The Cowboy's Ready-Made Family (15 page)

Tanner broke into the open. She followed with the children right behind.

“Oh.” Totally speechless, she stared about. They stood in a round clearing with the tree branches arching overhead to form a light-dappled canopy.

“It's like church,” Liz whispered in wonderment.

“An outdoor cathedral,” Susanne echoed her sentiments.

Tanner turned full circle. “It is exactly as I recall it.” He moved to the center. “Ma knelt right here.” As he looked upward, light pooled on his face. He closed his eyes as if in prayer.

Susanne drew the children back, wondering if he wanted to be alone.

He opened his eyes and held his out hands, inviting them forward.

He pulled Susanne to his side and the children clustered about them.

“This is a very special place,” he said. “I have never felt closer to God than I did here when my ma prayed. And I feel it again. Do you?”

The children nodded.

“Look up.”

They did so. The branches parted in the overhead breeze and light flooded them. Each of them closed their eyes as if lost in awareness of God. Susanne could not take her eyes from them.

Tanner squeezed her shoulder. “You try it.”

She lifted her face, and light and warmth washed over her. She closed her eyes and let the cares and worries of her life slip away until she felt free. “God is so good. He loves each of us in a special way.”

No one replied. They simply stood there so aware of God's love that there was no need for words.

Birdsong came from a nearby tree. “A robin,” Tanner said.

The moment ended and the children stepped away to explore the clearing, their voices muted.

Susanne did not want to break the closeness that she shared with Tanner. His arm remained about her. Neither of them moved. The sun passed from overhead and the clearing grew chilly.

“I should get you home.” But Tanner remained motionless.

“Liz and Frank, take the younger ones back to the buggy. We'll be there in a minute or two.” She sensed Tanner needed a few minutes alone, but when she made to follow the children, he held her.

“Stay here. I want to hold this moment in my memory forever.”

She relaxed with his arm about her shoulders. “I'm honored that you chose to share it with me.”

“There's no one I would rather share it with.” His gaze claimed her. In that moment she knew she was eternally changed. Life would never be the same for her. His look went on and on, searching her very soul.

“Susanne.” Her name was music on his lips.

“Tanner,” she whispered. The word came from deep inside.

His gaze traveled over her face and came to rest on her mouth.

She couldn't breathe for fear of shattering the special feeling between them in this fragile moment.

He lowered his head, then seemed to think better of it.

She tipped her face up to him, inviting the kiss she knew was on his mind.

He smiled and claimed her mouth in a reverent, sweet kiss full of promise and possibility.

She clung to his shoulders, not wanting to end the moment, but he drew back.

“I shouldn't have done that, but I can't find it in my heart to say I'm sorry.” He didn't sound the least bit regretful.

“I'm not sorry.” She said it with utmost conviction.

He laughed with such pure delight her eyes stung.

The children's voices reached them and they shared one more special smile, then returned to the buggy and headed home.

It wasn't until he'd said good-night and departed, and after the children were tucked in bed, that she had time to think about the afternoon.

And the kiss. Neither of them had said what it meant though she cherished the possibility that it might mean something very special.

Chapter Fourteen

T
anner returned to the Collins farm Monday morning and continued putting seed in the ground, every minute a joy as he watched Susanne and the children go about their chores. He worked very hard to appear normal as he went in for dinner and then enjoyed the afternoon break. But would anything ever feel truly normal again?

The sky was bluer, the air clearer, and the mountains more majestic. The children's laughter rang more joyously and he was certain Susanne's smile was warmer.

He tried not to linger as he said goodbye at the end of the day, but it took supreme effort to pull himself from Susanne's questioning gaze. It was as if she wanted to know if yesterday's kiss had changed him. She would never guess how much, and he feared saying anything would shatter the joy flooding every barren corner of his heart.

Partway home, he left the trail and headed toward the cathedral of trees. He dismounted and slipped into the clearing, where he sat cross-legged at the center. The sun sent rays of light through the branches.

He was flooded by memories of his ma worshipping in this spot, intermingled with the more recent memory of Susanne and the children being mesmerized by their experience here. It seemed his life made sharp turns at this place. First, his ma died leaving him confused, then he discovered a different kind of love with Susanne and the children. He lifted his face to the sky as joy flooded his heart. He loved Susanne.

Dare he hope his feelings were more than dreams? Or that they might eventually be reciprocated?

He bowed his head to the ground. “Father God.” His prayer went no further. It was enough to acknowledge God's presence.

After a bit he sat up again. In a day or two he would finish the seeding though it wouldn't put an end to going to the farm. Not so long as he needed the corrals. He would not think past the time that would come to an end. He recalled something Maisie had said. “I wonder if the poor girl ever gets to town. If not, she could be getting low on supplies.”

He knew a way to solve her dilemma, but would it work?

* * *

Midafternoon Wednesday he finished seeding, put the equipment away, gave Pat an extra good rubdown with Frank helping, then he sauntered to the house. To all outward appearances he was relaxed and casual, but his insides churned.

Susanne came to the door and waited.

He almost forgot his rehearsed speech at the warmth of her smile. “I've finished seeding.”

“I'm grateful. You must be anxious to start work on the horses.”

He nodded. “I'll get at it, but tomorrow I am taking you and the children to town.” It was not at all what he'd planned to say and he rushed on. “We need to celebrate having the crop in.”

Her expression went from surprise to caution to eagerness. “That sounds like a fine idea.”

“We'll need to get an early start.”

“I'll be ready. I'll pack a picnic lunch.”

Her words of agreement eased some of his tension. He would have suggested they go to the small dining room in town but the last time he'd been there with his brothers, there had been a scene because some of the patrons objected to the presence of Indians.

The children gathered round, tugging at his arms and asking questions.

“Papa always bought us a candy when he went to town.” Janie's bottom lip quivered. “Will you buy us a candy?”

Liz took her sister's hand. “Papa wouldn't want you asking that.” Her bottom lip quivered, too.

Tanner looked at the boys. Robbie sucked his fingers. Frank gazed into the distance.

Had he made a mistake in suggesting the outing? “If you don't want to go to town we'll do something else.”

Robbie and Janie looked to the older ones for direction.

Liz and Frank turned to each other, some silent message passing between them. Then Frank, as the oldest, spoke, his words soft yet firm. “We'd like to go to town. It will be fun.”

The little ones relaxed.

Tanner was still uncertain. “If I do something or say something that bothers you, you tell me. I don't want to make things difficult for you.”

Janie tugged at him and he squatted down to face her. She wrapped her arms about his neck and hugged him. “You don't make things hard. You make them easy.”

He hugged her back, his throat too tight to speak. He hugged Robbie and squeezed both Liz's and Frank's shoulders, then pulled his gaze toward Susanne.

She wiped a tear from her eye.

He eased the children out of the way and went to her. “What's wrong?”

She ducked her head.

He caught her chin and lifted it so he could see her expression. Her eyes were awash with tears and he groaned. “I've made a mess of things, haven't I?”

She shook her head but he wasn't convinced. She pressed her palms to his chest. “Tears aren't necessarily bad. Sometimes they're healing. That's what you're seeing here. You've given the children the freedom to acknowledge their grief. Like Janie said, you make things easy.”

“Me?” How was that possible? Much of his life his presence had made things difficult.

She patted her hands on his chest, sending drumbeats through his heart. “Maybe someday you will realize that lots of people appreciate you and recognize your abilities.”

He wasn't sure he wanted to wait for someday. He caught her hands and clasped them close. “What are my abilities?”

Her smile teased. “You captured wild horses that many have wanted to catch. That's one ability.”

Shaking her hands slightly, he silently demanded more.

“You offer help to a poor farm lady. You—”

Her words were cut off by Frank. “You made me feel important...like a man,” he said.

“You hug me,” Janie added.

Liz ducked her head. “You're nice to me.”

Robbie wrapped his arms as far around Tanner's waist as they would go. “You throw me up in the air.”

Tanner wondered how much of this his heart would take before it exploded. Yet, he wanted more. He wanted to hear from Susanne. He held her gaze, seeking words from her.

She smiled so sweetly he was sorely tempted to kiss her. “It's just the way you are...who you are.”

Funny, she didn't say anything specific and yet her words were exactly what he needed to hear. She appreciated him for who he was. Something startling and cleansing rushed through him like a hot spring wind driving away the dirty remnants of winter. Something stung his eyes. He nodded in acknowledgment of her assessment, then wheeled around and rushed to the barn.

He mounted Scout and paused to wave at the family. “See you tomorrow.” He galloped from the yard and didn't slow down until he was almost home.

* * *

A cool wind the next morning made Tanner study the sky. Clouds hung over the mountaintops in the west, but they were white and puffy, harmless looking. Still, it would be a good idea to keep an eye on the weather. He hitched the horses to the buggy and left for the Collins farm. The day promised enjoyment.

The children heard him coming and waited outside as he approached the house. They allowed him to set the brake before they climbed aboard.

Then Susanne came to the door looking fine in her blue dress. The first time he saw her in it he'd thought she looked like a flower. He didn't change his mind now.

“Do you need help?” he asked, and she indicated a large basket and a gallon jar of water, which he picked up. She lifted another box that held dishes.

He stowed them all in the back, then put his hands on her waist to help her aboard. Not content to let her climb up on her own, he lifted her to the seat.

She laughed as her feet left the ground.

He jumped up beside her, his heart overflowing with anticipation. A whole day to enjoy Susanne and the children. A warning bell sounded in his brain. Going to town hadn't always been enjoyable for him. There were those who still harbored resentment toward the Indians and funneled it in his direction even more so than at his brothers because he looked the most Indian of the three. But he pushed the worry aside. Today was for pleasure. Besides, hadn't Susanne said he made her life easy? He couldn't ask for more.

The children bounced up and down, constantly asking questions. “How far?”

“Are we almost there?”

“Is that an antelope?”

He welcomed their questions as it provided him something to talk about, something to occupy his thoughts apart from the awareness of Susanne at his side.

The trail followed the trickling creek that bordered the south side of the farm. Two miles later, it ran into Granite Creek, the little river that gave the town its name. They followed it several miles until they had to cross the river to head toward town. He slowed as they drove into the water and followed the rocky crossing to the other side.

“Robbie, don't lean out so far.” Frank held the boy by the back of his trousers to keep him from tumbling into the river.

Susanne reached back and pulled him safely to the seat. “What were you doing?”

“Did you see those rocks? They shineded like gold.”

Tanner knew the boy had not seen actual gold. “There have been lots of people looking for gold here and none have found any.”

“It was gold,” Robbie insisted. “Someday I'm going to find gold.”

“That would be nice.” Susanne sounded soothing, then to divert the boy, she pointed to a gopher watching them.

The trip took more than three hours and as they neared the town an expectant hush fell over them all. He suspected the children were both curious and excited. As for himself, he felt his muscles twitch. Could he hope to spend a few hours in town without encountering any difficulties? He had to try, for Susanne.

“Where to first?” he asked.

“The general store, please.” She pulled out a piece of paper and stub of pencil and added something to her list.

He parked the wagon in front of the store and helped them down. Susanne took Robbie's hand and hurried up the steps with the other children close behind. He hesitated, not sure that following them into the store was a good idea. Maybe he'd wait out here. He lounged against the hitching post and watched the comings and goings of the little town.

A man and woman came toward him, saw him, paused, then clung to the far side of the sidewalk as they passed.

He sighed. He'd worn jeans and a plain shirt rather than leather trousers and a fringed shirt in the hopes people would ignore him. Maybe he should have taken the feather out of his hat, too, but it had been given to him by an old Indian chief who had known his ma. It stayed no matter what others might think.

Maybe he'd be less conspicuous inside. He straightened just as three ladies sidled past him and into the store.

Now what?

He stopped himself. He was a Harding and had every right to go freely in and out of any place of business. He crossed the threshold and waited for his eyes to adjust to the dim interior.

“Oh good,” Susanne said. “Would you mind carrying these parcels out for me?” He noticed a sack of flour, others of beans and coffee, numerous boxes and packages. She must have been very low on supplies.

He filled his arms. “I'll be back for the rest.” He took the purchases to the buggy then returned just as the three ladies clustered about Susanne. The children were on the other side of the store looking at a display of men's wear. Tanner stopped. He'd wait until the ladies moved off before he'd get the rest of Susanne's things. No one had noticed his entrance and he withdrew into the corner.

“You're Jim Collins's sister, aren't you?” The speaker fussed with her gloves as she spoke.

“Yes. Did I meet you at his funeral?”

“My husband and I were there. A fine man, your brother was.”

“Thank you.”

A lady with a black bonnet edged forward. “How are you managing out on that farm so far from town and with four children to take care of? Why, it's simply astonishing that you stay there.”

Susanne widened her eyes, though Tanner knew it was not in surprise. She objected to the suggestion she should leave the farm. “I'm managing quite fine, thank you. The Hardings have helped put the crop in.”

The three ladies tilted their noses upward. “Do you mean that half-breed I saw outside? You should not be associating with the likes of him.”

Tanner clenched his fists. Bad enough he had to deal with such animosity—they had no right to involve Susanne in their dislike of him. He straightened, intending to intervene, but then waited, wanting to know how Susanne would deal with the situation.

She gave each of the ladies a look that should have curled their hair, but they remained oblivious, stuck in their own self-righteousness. “Have you ever considered that he comes from noble people on both sides of his lineage? Or have you ever taken time to notice his strengths?”

“His mother was an Indian.”

“From what I've heard she was very strong. She survived being injured and lost for days. I wonder if any of you could handle such a challenge.”

The lady in the black bonnet looked down her fine nose. “Why would we have to?”

“Let me make one thing clear.” Susanne's voice rang out. “I judge a person not by things they have no control over but by things they do control. Like how they treat others and whether they are kind and generous.” Her voice softened. “I wonder how you ladies would fare under such an evaluation.”

They were undaunted. “You must think of the children and how your association with such a man will affect them,” one of them said.

Susanne's determined look never faltered. “It's been very beneficial for them.”

“Humph. I can see you have no sense,” said the woman in the black bonnet. “There will come a day you regret your foolishness.” She and the other two women stormed out of the store without looking to the right or the left.

The storekeeper clapped. “That was a mighty fine speech, miss. I agree with what you said, but I fear you have turned those ladies into enemies.”