The Cowboy's Ready-Made Family

She turned away so he couldn’t see her face, but he didn’t need to in order to understand that she fought a war between her stubborn pride and her necessity.

Her shoulders sagged and she bowed her head. Slowly she came about to face him. “This morning I prayed that God would provide a way for me to get the crop in. Seems this must be an answer to my prayer.”

He was an answer to someone’s prayer? He kind of liked that. Maybe he should pray that God would make Himself plain to him. He’d sure like the answer to that prayer, as well.

“So I agree to your plan.” Her eyes flashed a warning. “With a few conditions.”

He stiffened, guarding his heart against the words he expected. Stay away from the children. Don’t think you can make yourself at home. Don’t forget you’re a half-breed. She might not use those exact words but the message would be the same.

“The children must be treated kindly at all times. And I don’t want them getting hurt because of the horses.”

His mouth fell slack. He was lost for words. Nothing about his heritage? Nothing at all?

“Ma’am, there is no need for such conditions. I would never be unkind to a child. Or an adult. Or an animal. Everyone deserves to be treated with respect. And I would never put anyone in danger. For any reason.”

She studied him for several heartbeats. She seemed to be searching beyond the obvious, but for what?

He met her look.

His mouth grew dry. He blinked and shifted away. He saw depths of need and a breadth of longings that left him both hungry to learn more and wishing he saw less.

“Then we have a deal.” She held her hand out.

He took it before she remembered he was a half-breed, and marveled at her firm grip despite the smallness of her hand.

Inside his heart, buried deep, pressed down hard beneath a world of caution, there bubbled to the surface a desire to protect.

The one thing he meant to protect was his heart. No one, especially a fragile blonde woman, would be allowed near it.

“We have a deal,” he said.

Their agreement would certainly solve two problems. But he wondered if it would create a whole lot more to take their place.

Chapter Two (#ulink_97fdfba1-4efd-5abb-8833-d140981d180d)

A little later, Tanner rode into the yard at Sundown Ranch. His brothers trotted over to the barn as he led Scout in. Though they were close in age—Johnny was twenty, a year younger than Tanner, and Levi two years younger—his brothers were as different from Tanner as was possible. Johnny lived to please his father and to prove he was part of the white world. Levi didn’t much care what anyone except Maisie thought.

“You get them?” Johnny asked.

“I sure did. Ten in all. And all three of Ma’s horses. I have them in that little box canyon over the hill.”

Big Sam ambled into the barn. “Howdy, boys.”

“Hi, Pa,” they replied.

“You capture them horses?” he asked Tanner.

“Ten. Now all I got to do is break them.”

“Sure wish I could help you out, but you know my feelings.”

Tanner did. They all did. He could hardly wait to see their surprise when he announced his good news.

The supper bell rang and the four of them crossed to the house. It was a one-story structure, nothing fancy, but, as Big Sam often said with a great deal of pride, it was solid.

Maisie waited at the door to greet them. As part of her many rituals, she got a kiss on the cheek from each man as he passed. Not that Tanner was complaining. She was a good, loving mama to Big Sam’s boys and had never let their mixed heritage influence her affections for them.

They washed up, sat at the table and automatically reached for one another’s hands as Big Sam asked the blessing. Holding hands was another of Maisie’s rituals. He’d found the gesture comforting when he was eight and still found it comforting at twenty-one. There was one place he knew he belonged. Right here in this house.

They passed the food and then began another of Maisie’s rituals.

“Sam, did you get the cows moved up to summer pasture?” Over the evening meal, Maisie asked each of them about their day, starting with Pa and then proceeding in descending age.

“Sure did. Grass is looking good already. The cows will get lots to eat. Soon there will be calves on the ground.”

Tanner listened as Big Sam described every aspect of the herd. He’d grown up hearing this sort of thing and knew the importance of each detail.

When Pa was done, it was Tanner’s turn.

Maisie turned to him. “How did your day go? Did you get those horses you wanted?”

“Sure did.” Again, he told of his day, describing the horses in more detail for her than he had for his brothers or Pa.

“And I had a visitor.”

“Up there?” She sounded as surprised as his brothers looked.

“A young boy.” He enjoyed parceling out the information in a way that increased their curiosity.

Maisie sat back, dumbfounded. “What would a child be doing up there? How old was he?”

“Five.”

“That’s hardly more than a baby. Levi’s age when your mama died.” She gave Levi a look of love. It was no secret the two of them shared a special bond. She brought her attention back to Tanner. “Was he lost? Abandoned?”

“Nope. Just wandering a little far from home. It was Robbie Collins. You know, from Jim Collins’s farm.”

Maisie made a sound half distress, half regret. “Why, it’s—” She counted on her fingers. “It’s four months since he died. I’ve been meaning to get over there. I hear his sister is caring for the children. That poor girl. They say she hasn’t anyone to help. How are they faring?”

“I’d say she was struggling.”

“Sam, someone ought to help them.” Maisie shook her head, her look part pity, part scolding.

Tanner felt rather pleased that he’d be able to reassure her that someone was. “I have a set of corrals to work the horses.”

Maisie, Big Sam and his two brothers looked at him.

Big Sam found his voice first. “You built some already? How’d you manage that?”