by Linda Ford
His gaze held hers in a demanding, challenging manner.
She couldn’t free herself from his look and was only vaguely aware that Frank and Liz took the younger children and went outside, pulling the door closed behind them.
He shifted his chair so they sat almost knee to knee. “Let’s be clear about something. I did not think you were taking advantage of anything.” Their looks went on and on, past the recent events that had put a strain between them, past the two agreements they had made, past the time she had spent with Aunt Ada, perhaps right back to the time her parents were alive and she had been confident of being cherished, valued and loved.
Liz returned, a smaller bouquet in her hands. “I rescued these. Made sure there weren’t any bees.” She filled a jar with water and arranged the flowers in it, then put them in the middle of the table.
Susanne looked at the bouquet. It seemed to signify something, though she wasn’t prepared to say what it might be...or what she wished it might be. She looked again at Tanner and smiled.
A faint smile barely curved his mouth, but his eyes filled with a thousand stars.
Liz slipped out again.
Tanner’s smile deepened and Susanne’s heart opened to new possibilities.
He pushed to his feet. “I need to get the crop in.”
She stood, too. “Thanks for the flowers and everything.” The word ended breathlessly.
“I hope the sting won’t bother you.”
She’d already forgotten it. Though the memory of his touch was seared permanently in her brain. She brushed her hand to the back of her neck. “I barely feel it.” Her nape tingled with the memory of other fingers there.
“Until later?”
She nodded, liking that his question sounded like a promise. “Until later.”
Chapter Twelve
The flowers were meant to put her at ease. Tanner wasn’t sure he’d accomplished that. They seemed to have cleared the air, but then, he suspected, she was uncomfortable with her reactions.
As was he.
He smiled and looked at the tips of his fingers that had examined the bee sting on her neck and applied the baking soda paste. They still tingled. He understood more fully her uneasiness with her reaction for now he felt the same.
It would prove challenging to go back to the way things had been, to be neighbors working together for mutual benefit. Though perhaps it had never been quite that simple.
His smile lingered throughout the morning as he and Pat planted the crop. A few more days and the crop would be in the ground. He’d then turn his time to working the horses.
The children played. Susanne left the house only once and wandered to the garden. He knew by the way she fell on her knees that a few early plants were already poking through the ground, though they might only be weeds.
Susanne straightened and waved at him before she returned to the house.
The morning slipped away on slow, measured steps. Uncertainty reared its head as the sun moved overhead and he took Pat to water. Would she be too busy to bring him dinner?
When the door opened and Susanne stepped out, a plate in each hand, his heart sang.
He left Pat to eat and rest a bit, and waited by the side of the barn as she crossed to him. She slowed and stared. Did his expression give something away? Their gazes caught and held as she drew steadily closer. She stopped three feet away though the space felt like nothing. He could feel her in every pore. Each breath filled with her sweet presence.
“I brought you dinner.” Her voice seemed husky. Or was it only his brain that made the words deeper, more emotional?
“Thanks.” He took the two plates, one loaded with egg sandwiches on thick slices of bread and the other with a large piece of chocolate cake. “Smells real good.”
“Lots of plants are coming through the ground in the garden.” She sat with her back against the barn and he did the same, side by side, their shoulders brushing. “Go head and eat. Don’t let me stop you.”
He did so and she talked as he ate.
“I helped Jim with the garden last year but this is the first year I’ve been in charge. It’s kind of exciting to see things growing. Just think how much food I’ll be able to produce to feed the children.” She chattered on about peas and beans and potatoes before she suddenly ran out of words.
He studied her. A frown creased her forehead. “What’s wrong?”
“I just realized how much the future depends on what grows in the garden and how many things can go wrong. So much depends on the weather.”
“That’s true.” Too much rain, too little rain, hail, frost, insect pests, even deer could destroy a crop and a garden. “Farmers are truly dependent on things they can’t control.”
“That’s true but—” she brightened “—I can trust God to meet our needs.”
“You’ve seen firsthand how a family survives when the crops and garden fail?” He wanted to know what she based her faith on.
“I’m not a farm girl. I told you that. So my experience is somewhat limited.” Her gaze went beyond him to the distance. “But time and again I saw God meet my needs in unexpected ways when I was living with Aunt Ada. She was miserly. She wouldn’t buy me new clothes even when I was in desperate need and I told you what happened when she lent me an old dress.”
His fists clenched. “She sounds very unfair.” He could think of a dozen other ways to describe her but had no desire to give Susanne more reason for the troubled expression that always came to her face when she talked about her aunt.
“Well, she took the dress back even though I desperately needed something that fit. I prayed and reminded God of the fact. Not that He didn’t know but I needed to let Him know I trusted Him. I might have asked the preacher’s wife for help but Aunt Ada had forbidden it. Nor did she believe in accepting charity.”
“Or offering it.”
“That’s true.” Susanne’s amused smile eased his thoughts. “You would never guess how I got four dresses that fit me.”
“I don’t suppose I would.” It was enough to know she’d had her needs met and her faith honored.
“In a garbage heap. I had taken a bucket of garbage to the place and saw a bundle on top. I examined it and there were four dresses and a pair of shoes in it. All I had to do was wash and mend them and they were almost like new.”
He schooled his face to reveal none of his dismay. What kind of woman would treat anyone that way, let alone her niece? And yet it had not hardened Susanne or made her equally miserly. She was a joyful, generous woman who loved her nieces and nephews and did not fail to show it in every way she could. Perhaps because of the way she’d been treated. “You have every reason in the world to be resentful.”
She favored him with a smile full of sunshine, her eyes shining brightly. “Does anyone have the right to be resentful? You see, I am not responsible for how others act, only how I act. And I chose to believe God loves me even though I lost my parents and have an aunt Ada.”
“I guess it applies to me, as well. I can choose to believe God made me who I am and He loves me no matter how others view me.”
She pressed her hand to his. “Isn’t it wonderfully freeing?”
He planted his other hand on top of hers, sandwiching it between his two. “It is. Thank you.” His words did not begin to express the hope she planted in his heart.
She glanced at his empty plates. “I won’t keep you.” She took the dishes and headed for the house.
As he went to get Pat, he looked back and saw her doing the same. They both grinned, but neither of them moved. He would not have been the first, except Pat snorted as if to say it was time to get back to work. He waved and went to the field. Again he glanced toward the house.
Susanne stood in the same spot still watching. He bent over the hi
tch, pleased beyond reason that she did.
He worked all afternoon breaking only for the cold drink and more chocolate cake that Susanne and the children brought out. Then it was time to go home. Three more days and he’d be done seeding. He would miss this routine. Not likely would anyone see fit to bring him a snack when he worked with the horses.
On the way home, he did some planning. Tomorrow was Saturday. He wouldn’t be planting on Sunday, but perhaps he could do something else.
He reached the ranch, took care of his horse then joined the others heading for the house. He kissed Maisie on the cheek, sat at the table and bowed his head as Big Sam asked the blessing.
Big Sam concluded his report on his day by saying, “I’ll move the herd up to higher pasture next week.”
Maisie turned to Tanner. “How was your day?”
“I reckon it will take three days to finish seeding. I checked on the horses. You know leaving them alone to settle in was a great idea. They’re getting used to people around them.” He ignored the teasing way Levi and Johnny nudged each other as he continued, speaking directly to Maisie. “I was thinking Miss Collins and the children must get lonely, so I wondered if you would mind if I invite them over for dinner on Sunday.”
Levi and Johnny dropped their jaws.
“He’s inviting a lady friend!” Johnny could hardly get the words out.
Tanner didn’t bother acknowledging the comment.
Maisie smiled. “That would be a lovely idea. Please extend an invite from me.”
He nodded and the conversation shifted to Johnny, who couldn’t seem to think of anything except to repeat, “He’s inviting a lady friend.”
* * *
Inviting them over still seemed like a good idea in the light of day, but now as he rode toward the Collins farm, Tanner couldn’t think how to extend the invite.
As always as he neared, he eyed the surrounding area. He’d seen nothing of Charlie since the man had staggered up the hill, but Tanner still knew how vulnerable Susanne was. Today he would teach her to use that gun.
He reached the barn, unsaddled Scout and put him in the nearby pasture to graze. “Good morning,” he said to Frank, who was in the barn.
Then he headed for the house. Janie rushed out to greet him and he swung her in the air. He did the same to Robbie, who was on her heels. Liz came out with a bucket of scraps for the chickens and paused to say good morning.
Susanne stood in the doorway, all smiles, and offered him a sunny greeting.
He stopped six feet away and grinned at her. “Good morning to you, too.”
“Isn’t the sun lovely? And not a cloud in the sky.”
He glanced up though the view wasn’t half as nice as the one before him. Not that he was about to say it. “Maisie says you are invited to dinner at the ranch tomorrow.”
Her eyes lit. The children crowded close to see what she’d say. “Would you like that?” she asked them.
“Mrs. Harding seems like a nice lady,” Liz said.
“She brung me home and she wasn’t mad at me,” Janie added.
Frank said, “I’d like to see the ranch and the horses.”
Robbie’s eyes were big. “How would we get there?”
“I’ll come and get you,” Tanner said. “I have to check on the horses anyway.”
Susanne nodded. “Then it’s decided. We accept.”
“Good. Now one more thing. Before I go home, I will give you lessons in handling the rifle.” He deliberately made it an announcement, not a question.
Susanne shooed the children away and confronted him. “I’m not sure I want to know how. I could never bring myself to shoot a man.”
“I’m not suggesting you should. But at least you can scare off any intruders, whether man or beast.” He could not bear to think of her alone and defenseless. “Let’s do it at noon.” He narrowed his eyes and did his best to look fierce. “High noon. The traditional time for a shoot-out.”
She laughed. “Guess I can’t refuse now without looking yellow.”
He grinned. “Sounds like you’ve been reading the same dime novels I have.”
“Jim enjoyed them and I got a little bored over the winter.”
“Noon it is, then.” He returned to seeding, counting every hour until noon arrived.
The sun finally reached its zenith and he took Pat in. Susanne brought him dinner, looking at once eager and reluctant.
“You aren’t going to chicken out, are you?” he asked.
“Not a chance. But I am a little nervous. Frank says I’ll feel the recoil. It might hurt, he says.”
“It doesn’t have to.” He’d make sure it didn’t. “Bring the rifle and bullets out while I eat.” He had the sandwiches down before she reached the house and finished the chocolate cake before she stepped out with the rifle.
The children clustered about. “Can we watch?” Robbie asked.
“You stay here and we’ll go out there.” He pointed to a grove of trees where they could safely shoot away from the house and not put anyone in harm’s way. “Liz, Frank, you make sure Robbie and Janie stay right here.”
Each of them grabbed a child’s hand. They wouldn’t be going anywhere.
Together he and Susanne walked the hundred yards to the trees. He stacked hunks of wood on a fallen log. Not that he cared if she hit a target or not. Step by step he showed her how to load and cock the rifle. He had her do it several times until he was confident she knew what to do.
“Now hold the rifle butt to your shoulder good and tight.” He stood behind her and showed her what he meant, then reached around her and steadied the rifle.
“Ready, aim, now squeeze the trigger.” She did. The recoil sent her stumbling against him. He planted his hands on her shoulders and held her safe. She lowered the gun and eased about to face him. He kept his hands on her shoulders, shifting position as she turned. Her eyes were wide, full of surprise.
Then she grinned. “I did it,” she yelled, not realizing how loudly she spoke because of the sound of the blast.
He looked deep into her eyes, saw so many things. Things he wondered if she meant for him to see. Pride, contentment, gratitude and... Was it pleasure, too, he saw there? Did she welcome the excuse to be held in his arms? She smiled up at him in such a way that he allowed himself to hope it was possible.
She turned back to the targets he’d set up. “Don’t suppose I hit anything.”
“Listen. I suggest you either aim high or low as a warning. That should scare off anyone. Now try it again.”
She nodded and reloaded with care, lifted the rifle to her shoulder and looked at him. Whether or not she meant it as invitation to stand behind her again, he willingly took it as such and again cradled her in his arms, steadying the rifle and holding her against the recoil.
His senses filled with the scent of her—the smells of baking and freshly turned soil—though that might be coming from him. Her hair was soft as newly washed cotton and smelled like sunshine. Her arms were warm and her muscles firm. The skin on her hands where he held them against the rifle was smooth, making him want to run his fingers up and down the back of her hand. He breathed deeply, branding every detail in his brain.
She squeezed. The bullet exploded from the gun and thudded into a nearby tree. The recoil pressed her into his chest. She lowered the gun, but apart from that neither of them moved.
He would freeze the moment here forever if that were possible. But the children waited nearby. Pat would be ready to get to work. The rest of the crop still had to be put in the ground.
He released her. She darted a look at him from under her dark lashes as if the moment had been as packed with awareness for her as it had been for him. A loud, insistent part of his brain said he should stay away from her.
A quiet
er part said he wasn’t running from her or the children.
Tomorrow was Sunday and he would take them to the ranch. He could hardly wait. He’d seen her life; now it was time for her to see his.
* * *
Sunday morning came and Susanne prepared to visit Sundown Ranch. She looked at her dress. Was it suitable? Not that it mattered. It was the only good dress she had. At least it wasn’t wool. She’d grown used to wearing cotton every day. This dress used to belong to Alice. Jim had given it to her, assuring her he didn’t mind if she adjusted it to fit. At first, she thought she’d be uncomfortable in one of Alice’s gowns, but by the time she finished with it, it felt like hers and she quite liked it.
Earlier in the day they’d had their customary church service, again outside as the weather was so nice. She’d cut the Bible lesson short as the children were restless, always jumping up to see if Tanner had arrived. Truthfully, she was almost as bad. Her nerves had been taut with wonderment and hope since the shooting lesson yesterday. Being held firmly against his chest had triggered feelings she’d long buried. A sense of having come home, belonging to someone, being cherished. She’d tried desperately to convince herself it was only the result of many years in Aunt Ada’s home. The experience had made her so needy she about melted at any sign of kindness. She’d told herself over and over that Tanner showed no special interest in her. Yes, he was kind and concerned. But she knew better than to read anything more into the situation. At least she ought to by now.
But talking to herself had accomplished nothing. Her feelings refused to be ignored. And she could not convince herself that the way Tanner pressed his hands to her shoulders had anything to do with shooting the gun—they’d lingered there far too long. And yet he’d removed them far too soon.
She turned her attention back to preparations for the day and fixed her hair with extra care, then braided the girls’ hair. Thankfully she’s recently cut the boys’ hair. She gave a final inspection of the children and looked in the mirror for her own final assessment. “We’re ready for the day.” Whatever it might bring. Part of her tingled with excitement at an outing and at seeing the ranch where Tanner lived. An equal portion of her twisted with questions. Would his family approve of her? That one was uppermost in her mind.