Falling for the Rancher Father Page 2

  Linette returned immediately to Mercy’s situation. “It seems to me you’ll have to respect Abel’s wishes and stay away from the cabin. Maybe now you’ll remain at the ranch. Tell me you will. I worry about you out there on your own.”

  Mercy didn’t bother to again say she could take care of herself. “Guess I will be practicing my riding and roping around here until I find another place. But—” She leaned forward and gave them each a demanding look. “I don’t want anyone hanging about warning me about the dangers. Agreed?”

  Jayne and Linette exchanged a look then together shook their heads. “We aren’t agreeing to any such thing.”

  “Nor am I,” Sybil said. “From the beginning I’ve opposed your dream to join a Wild West show and will continue to do so.”

  Mercy groaned. “I can see I’ll have to find another place to practice.” In the meantime, the corrals were virtually empty, with the cowboys and horses gone on the roundup. She’d be able to work on her tricks without a lot of interference. She’d simply deflect her friends’ needless worry should they voice it.

  The next morning she slipped from the house before Linette or Grady stirred and hurried down to the corral behind the barn. The guns she used for her fancy shooting worried the others the most so she did her gun work in the cold dawn. The pearl-handled guns, one of her greatest treasures, had been acquired through Cal, a cowboy who had worked at the Eden Valley Ranch before he’d been fired. She’d encouraged Cal to do a number of things Eddie didn’t approve of. He’d even coached her roping stunts. Thankfully, it was his own actions that got him fired, and nothing she could feel responsible for.

  After an hour, her wrists grew tired and she saddled Nugget and brought him out to the same area. She practiced a number of tricks—bowing, rearing up, sidestepping. Then she turned her attention to a new trick—teaching Nugget to lie on his back and let her sit on his chest.

  She finally got him to lie down and roll to his back and rewarded him with a carrot.

  The sun had grown warm. Her stomach growled, reminding her she’d eaten nothing but a slab of bread she’d grabbed on her way through the kitchen. Linette and Grady would be up and about by now. Time to climb the hill and find breakfast. She’d heard Cookie call good morning to Jayne a short time ago. Overhead, a flock of geese honked, and a crow called from the trees. The chickens cackled and crowed. The world had come alive.

  She stepped into the house and traipsed down the hall to the kitchen.

  Grady ran to her, almost tackled her. She caught him. “Whoa, cowboy. What’s your hurry?”

  “We got company.”

  Warning trickled down Mercy’s spine. Surely Abel hadn’t stepped into her corner of the ranch. She slowly raised her eyes. The twins sat at the table watching her. She shifted her gaze around the room until she met Linette’s eyes. No one else was there.

  Her breath whooshed out.

  “Papa says we can stay here while he works,” Allie said.

  “That’s nice.”

  The children eyed her. She eyed them back. Then they all grinned.

  Linette brushed a strand of hair off her face. “I thought you might like to take the three of them out after breakfast and amuse them while I do some things around the house.”

  Mercy laughed, as much out of relief as amusement. She didn’t mind spending time with the children. Over breakfast, she considered the day. “Who wants to watch me do some roping?”

  The boys yelled yes and Allie nodded, her blue eyes sparkling.

  “Good. Then finish your breakfast, help me clean up and we’ll go do it.”

  The boys ate hurriedly but Allie picked at her food.

  “Come on, Allie,” Ladd said. “We can’t go until you finish.”

  Slowly she cleaned her plate, then the three of them helped Mercy do the dishes. Ladd dried the dishes so fast they barely got introduced to the towel. He was darker than his sister, his blue eyes so dark they almost seemed black until the light hit them and the blue became evident.

  Grady, five years old, carefully placed each dish on the table and dried it with both hands.

  Allie dried each dish as slowly as she ate.

  Ladd nudged his sister. “Go faster.”

  “I can’t.”

  They studied each other. Mercy thought Ladd would press the point and then he patted her shoulder. “Do your best.”

  Mercy turned away and stared at the soapy dishwater. The boy’s gentleness with his sister tugged at her thoughts. Had her brother, Butler, treated her with such kindness? She tried to remember. But it seemed she could only recall the loneliness of his illness and the emptiness of the house after he died. And how her parents had mourned so deeply they plumb forgot they had a daughter.

  That was in the past. The future and adventure beckoned.

  She handed the last dish to Ladd and dumped out the dishwater. “Are we ready?”

  The boys cheered in affirmation and Allie merely nodded, but her eyes said she anticipated the outing as much as the boys.

  They called goodbye to Linette and headed down the hill.

  Thor, the tame fawn, saw the children and bounced over to join them, eliciting squeals of laughter from Allie.

  Mercy stopped to let them enjoy the antics of the rapidly growing deer before they moved on. Soon Thor would disappear in the woods to join other deer, but she wouldn’t inform the children of that fact. Let them enjoy the pet while they could.

  Thor bounced away in search of amusement elsewhere and Mercy shepherded the children onward.

  She had them sit against the barn and showed them how to swing the rope overhead. How to drop it over a fence post. How to spin a circle of rope just above the ground and jump in and out of it. “I have lots more to learn,” she said.

  “But you’re pretty good,” Allie said.

  Ladd bounced to his feet. “You said you’d show me how to make the horse bow.”

  It wasn’t exactly what she’d said but close enough. She’d spent a few days getting Nugget to follow the offer of a carrot until his head almost reached the ground. Then she’d taught him to pull one leg back and put the other forward. He was getting good at bowing. She figured he’d perform for Ladd and handed a carrot to the boy. “Stand here. Show him the carrot then lower it toward the ground. He’ll do the rest because he knows what to expect.” Nugget performed perfectly. “Now give him the carrot.”

  Ladd held the carrot out but drew back as the horse tried to take it.

  Mercy guided his hand so Nugget got his treat.

  “What else can I make him do?” Ladd asked.

  “Before I show you, maybe Grady and Allie would like to do a trick.” She held a hand toward the pair.

  Grady jumped forward. “Can I get him to bow, too?”

  “You sure can.” She repeated the trick with Grady and helped the boy feed Nugget his treat.

  Allie stood nearby, rocking back and forth in anticipation. “Can I do something different?”

  “What would you like to do?”

  “Me and Ladd saw you standing on his back. Can I do that?”

  Mercy considered the request. Nugget was still saddled and he wouldn’t protest, and if she held Allie, she could see no problem. The child would be perfectly safe. “I don’t see why not. Come on, I’ll show you how.”

  She lifted the featherlight child to the saddle, placing her feet so she balanced then held her hand as she straightened. “There you go. What do you think?”

  Allie giggled. “I’m a bird.” She held out her free arm.

  A man came out of nowhere direct to Mercy’s side. Although alarmed at the sudden appearance, she held Allie firmly.

  He lifted Allie from the horse and stepped back. “How dare you put my child at risk?”

  “You! Mr. Abel Borgard, I presume. Haven’t we met before?” She didn’t much care for the dark expression on his face.

  “And you would be…? Just so I know to avoid you in the future.”

  “Mercy Newe
ll. So pleased to make your acquaintance.” But her sarcasm was wasted on him.

  “Papa,” Allie patted his cheek to get his attention.

  “Yes, baby.”

  Baby! This child was no baby. Why did he call her that? Worse, why did he treat her like an infant?

  “It was fun,” Allie said. “And she held my hand really tight.”

  “It was exceedingly foolish. Ladd, didn’t you think to say something?”

  Ladd faced his father without a hint of fear. Or remorse. “Miss Mercy held her real good. She is smart about horses and—”

  “Children are different than horses, Miss Mercy. Mrs. Gardiner knows I’ve come for the children. I’m taking them home.” He still carried Allie in one arm and took Ladd by his free hand. “Where they’ll be safe.” He hurried away.

  Ladd and Allie sent Mercy pleading looks. She couldn’t say if they were silently apologetic or simply regretting that their enjoyment had been cut short. Regardless, something about their silent appeals released her own caution and she trotted after them, reaching Abel’s side before he made it to his horse. She grabbed his shoulder and forced him to stop.

  “Sir, you are mistaken if you think I was about to let something happen to your children. I was only allowing them a bit of harmless fun. Everyone should be allowed to enjoy life and not shoved into a corner.”

  He put Allie down and released Ladd. “You two go wait by the horse.”

  They scampered away and stood watching the two adults.

  Abel turned his back to the children. “Miss Newell, whether or not you agree with my choices on my children’s behalf is immaterial to me. But Allie has been very ill. Her heart has been damaged and the doctor says she must not get overly excited, nor can she be allowed to overexert herself. It could have very bad consequences.”

  There was no mistaking the agony in his voice as he spoke those words and then he strode away, swung to the back of his horse and lifted the children, Ladd behind him, Allie sheltered in his arms.

  How was she to have known about Allie? The last thing she would ever do was put a child at risk.

  Abel reined his horse about. He was about to leave. She couldn’t let him go without trying to explain.

  “Wait.” She raced to the head of the horse, forcing Abel to pull up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. But believe me, I would never put a child in danger.”

  Abel studied her a moment. Then he shifted his gaze to Allie. He cupped her head then reached back and pulled Ladd closer. He lifted his gaze to Mercy.

  “So you say. But it is immaterial to me. My one and only concern is my children.”

  She fell back, struck by the depth of emotion in his eyes.

  “Whatever foolish thing you choose to do with your time is your business.” He rode away. Ladd lifted a hand in a wave.

  Mercy stared after them, her insides churning. She knew the look in Abel’s eyes. Not because she remembered ever seeing it but because she had longed for it all her life. Instead, all she’d ever seen was indifference. Seems Butler was the only child who had mattered to her parents and when he died, Mercy became a necessary nuisance. She could never do enough to get them to acknowledge her. No matter how absurd her behavior.

  She shook off the feeling.

  She’d hoped she’d found the acceptance she longed for when, at seventeen, she fell in love with Ambrose, the preacher’s son. They’d enjoyed many adventures together. But after their romantic summer—oh, how mistaken she’d been about that—he’d introduced her to a sweet, young thing he identified as his fiancée. When Mercy confronted him, he said he couldn’t live with a person like her who longed for adventure. A man wanted to come home to peace and quiet, not restlessness. Mercy realized then that men, in general, preferred a woman to be invisible in her husband’s shadow. Mercy could never be that.

  The circle of her thoughts widened. Wasn’t the Wild West show exactly the kind of thing she’d wanted since she was sixteen years old and watching Cleopatra’s Needle unveiling in London? They’d buried a time capsule beneath it that included pictures of the twelve most beautiful women. That struck her as unfair. What if a woman was born ugly? Was she to be ignored? What if she was beautiful but no one noticed? No, a person had to be able to do something to earn notice and value.

  She would do something. She would join a Wild West show and perform for others. The audience would appreciate her skills. It didn’t matter what Mr. Abel Borgard thought.

  Chapter Two

  Abel held Allie tight as he rode toward the cabin. He found comfort in Ladd’s arms about his waist. Miss Mercy was a menace to his kids and likely to herself, though that didn’t concern him. It surprised him, however, that Eddie allowed such conduct. Like his parents said, “You reap what you sow. If you sow to the wind, you reap sorrow.” He’d learned the truth of their words the hard way. He’d left home at sixteen to follow a sin-filled path, thinking it meant excitement. It had led him to marriage with Ruby. She wanted to continue their wayward path but once the twins were born, Abel wanted only to provide them with safety and security. Poor Ruby hadn’t signed up for that sort of life. So she paid in frustration. With an unpredictable, unreliable mother, the twins paid, too, and unable to stop the train wreck of his marriage, Abel would likely spend the rest of his life making up for his foolish decisions.

  And he would not allow Miss Mercy to undo the good he aimed to achieve by settling down and giving the twins a home like they’d never known.

  The children were quiet on the trip home. He let them off in front of the cabin. “Go inside. I’ll be there as soon as I take care of Sam.” The faithful horse would get a few oats and some hay, which reminded him of another job awaiting him. He must find feed for the horse and the milk cow he hoped to obtain. This late in the year, locating feed would prove a challenge.

  He returned to the cabin, ducking his head to enter. The inside was as inadequate as the door—barely big enough for a table, four chairs and a narrow bed. Beyond that, a corner of the roof had been damaged. He’d repaired it, but a good wind or a heavy snowfall would threaten the entire roof. He had to get a bigger, sturdier cabin built before winter set it.

  Allie and Ladd stood shoulder to shoulder and watched as he hung his hat on a hook. He faced them. “What’s on your mind?”

  “You were rude to Miss Mercy,” Allie said, her face wreathed in distress.

  “Oh, honey. I was only concerned about you. Can you imagine how I felt to see you standing on the back of her horse?” His heart had punched his ribs with such force they still hurt.

  “She wouldn’t let me fall.”

  His daughter’s loyalty was commendable but misplaced.

  Ladd nodded. “She let me and Grady make her horse bow. She knows what she’s doing. Someday she’s going to be in a Wild West show and I bet she’ll be the best person in the whole show.”

  “Don’t say bet.” He spoke automatically as his thoughts raced. When had the twins ever been so passionate about defending anyone? Never, in his mind, though they often refused to reveal the truth about what Ruby had been doing in his absences. In that case he decided he preferred not to know too much so long as everyone was safe.

  There seemed no point in continuing the discussion about Mercy’s reliability. “Who’d like bannock and beans?”

  Soberly, they both nodded. “We do.”

  Seeing as it was one of their favorite meals he expected slightly more enthusiasm, but he’d settle for changing the subject.

  As he mixed up the ingredients for the bannock and put it in a cast-iron fry pan to bake in the oven, he told the children about his trip to the woods. “I need to get the logs in to build a nice cabin for us. Something bigger than this. And I need to chop firewood.” The enormity of what he had to accomplish in the few weeks before the snow came settled heavily on his shoulders. He didn’t need to deal with Mercy on top of it, yet she had become a fly buzzing about his head. He couldn’t go to the woods and leave the twins alone, but obvio
usly taking them to the ranch had been a disaster. He didn’t have a lot of options open to him.

  He warmed the beans and checked the bannock. “Almost ready. Anyone hungry?”

  “I am.” Ladd’s answer was expected.

  “Me, too.”

  Abel jerked around to stare at Allie. “You’re hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  “Well.” That was good. Did it signal she would not have lasting damage from her illness? He swallowed back his reaction. He wished he could hope for her to someday be healthy, but the doctor had offered no such hope and Abel would not be taking any risks with her health.

  He placed the food on the table and asked the blessing, then they dug in. Ladd ate heartily as usual but when Allie cleaned her plate and asked for seconds, Abel shook his head. “I can’t believe how much you’re eating. Are you okay?” His spine tightened. Did it mean she was getting better or did it signal something awful?

  “I guess helping Mercy gave me an appetite.”

  “See, she’s a good person. She made Allie feel better.” Ladd grinned as much as his sister.

  Abel shook his head. “She does foolish things and there is always a price for foolish choices. Doing wild things leaves a person with regrets.”

  The twins simultaneously put down their forks, placed their hands beside their plates and studied him with serious expressions. They turned to look at each other, then returned their gazes to him.

  He felt their unasked questions and waited.

  Ladd finally spoke. “Like Mama.”

  He wasn’t sure what Ladd meant and didn’t want to guess. “What do you mean?”

  Allie answered. “Mama said we were nothing but a nuisance.”

  Ladd nodded. “A stone about her neck.”

  “We were the payment for your wild life, she said.”

  Oh, the pain he’d inflicted on these precious children. And, he admitted yet again, to Ruby. It was true. He’d changed his mind about what sort of life he wanted to live. She hadn’t. But it was the twins that mattered. And always had. How could he make up to them for the choices he’d made, or would they always pay?