Falling for the Rancher Father

He couldn’t and returned her look for look, noting, for the first time, the deep brown of her eyes and how her mahogany hair framed a very pretty face.

“I enjoyed spending the day with the children,” she said, smiling at them. Her smile disappeared as she again looked at him. “I’d love to come as long as they need me.”

“Thank you.” It was only for the children, he silently repeated. She made it clear she felt the same way. Not that it mattered to him one little bit.

“I’ll return in the morning then.” She brushed her fingers across Allie’s cheek and then Ladd’s. “See you two tomorrow.” And she left without a word of farewell to him.

Not that he cared, he insisted. But the tiny cabin seemed empty...a feeling that intensified after the twins went to bed.

Determined to dismiss such irrational thoughts, he pulled the Bible off the shelf and read it. His parents had raised him to look for answers to life’s problem in the words of scripture and to obey unquestioningly the precepts set out there. Since the twins’ births he had found strength and guidance in the pages of the Bible, just as his parents had taught.

But tonight he found no solution for the restlessness that plagued him.

Finally he gave up and prepared for bed. Thankfully the cold air and hard work of the day enabled him to fall into a sound sleep.

The next morning, the children could barely be persuaded to stay in bed long enough for him to start the fire and take the chill off the room.

“When will Mercy be here?” Allie asked for the twentieth time.

“Let’s have breakfast first.” He tried to corral them both to sit at the table, but they kept bouncing up to throw open the door and see if Mercy approached.

After a few such interruptions, Abel grew annoyed. “Miss Mercy is only helping for a few days. You’re simply asking for trouble if you think it’s anything more.”

Wide-eyed and disbelieving, the twins stared at him.

“Didn’t she say she meant to join a Wild West show?” he added to press home his point.

Their gazes grew wary.

“That means she’ll be traveling all over the country, living with the others in the show.” It sounded like a restless sort of life he wouldn’t welcome. He’d tried it already and knew it offered adventure but gave only emptiness. But to each her own. “You won’t see her much after that.”

Allie brightened. “We could go with her.”

He blinked before the eagerness in his daughter’s expression. “You could not.” What a dreadful, sordid life for a child.

Ladd sighed long. “She’s not going for a while. She might change her mind after she gets to know us better.” His shoulders sagged. “But she’s very good. I guess she won’t change her mind.”

“There you go.” Abel should be relieved that they’d accepted the facts of Mercy’s friendship but, instead, he felt as if he had jerked a rug out from under their feet.

A noise against the side of the cabin snapped Abel’s head in that direction. Both children bolted to their feet. “Mercy,” they yelled.

He grabbed two arms and planted the pair firmly back in their chairs. “Mercy would not be rubbing against the house. Sit here and be quiet.” He grabbed his rifle from over the door. If that whiskered man from the woods thought to bother Abel and his children...

“Don’t shoot her,” Allie whispered.

“Sit and be still.” He tiptoed to the door, quietly opened it and inched out far enough to see the side of the cabin. A deer. They sure could use fresh meat, but he wouldn’t shoot an animal with his children watching. Besides, this was a doe. He’d find a buck out in the woods. He signaled to the children to come and held his finger to his lips so they’d know enough to be quiet.

They joined him.

“Awww,” Allie whispered, the faint noise startling the doe, who bounced into the trees and disappeared.

Allie stared after her. “What did she want?”

He shepherded them back inside though the wind was still and the air promised a warm day. “I don’t know. Maybe she is curious. Maybe she’s been here before when no one lived here.”

“Maybe she thinks this is her house.” Allie looked about ready to burst into tears.

“No, baby. I don’t think so. Deer like to be among the trees. They don’t live in buildings.”

Allie sniffled. “You’re sure?”

“Very.”

Ladd had remained at the door. “Here she comes.”

Abel didn’t have to look up to understand he meant Mercy. Allie raced to join her brother. Abel took his time going to their side, though truthfully he was as relieved as the twins to see her ride to the cabin. But only because he needed to take advantage of the autumn weather while it lasted.

She called, “Hello,” then led her horse to the corral.

Which gave him almost enough time to convince himself he only cared because he had work to do and her presence would enable him to get at it. Besides, he still wasn’t persuaded the twins were completely safe with her. What if she decided to shoot her guns off? Or race her horse around with the twins on its back?

He hurried inside to get his coat and hat and leave before she entered the tiny space. They met at the doorway.

She carried a bulging gunnysack.

Both curiosity and caution stopped him in his tracks. “What’s in there?” He couldn’t keep the ring of suspicion from his voice.

She chuckled. “You needn’t sound like you wonder if I’ve brought knives to let the children throw. Or guns to shoot.”

He worked to hide his discomfort; she’d correctly gauged his concern. “I am their only parent.”

“Yup. I figured that out. Relax. I merely brought some things to keep the children occupied. See for yourself.” She opened the sack and held it out for him to peer in.

Papers, books, cookies? His mouth watered. How long since he’d had cookies? He swallowed back the saliva and nodded. “Looks harmless enough.”

“I keep telling you I am not so foolish as to do something to hurt a child.”

He looked at her and saw the way she tried to hide her emotion. But she didn’t quite succeed. Her lips tightened slightly and her eyes were too wide.

With a stab in his gut, he realized he’d hurt her feelings. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to suggest you would.” Yet hadn’t he, despite how well she’d done yesterday? The children had told him about their day in great detail. How they’d shown her all the things he’d bought before their arrival—new clothes, food and winter supplies. They’d shown her their books and their few toys. Told him how they’d played a fun game of pretend family, then she’d let them help her prepare the meals.

His suspicion was unfounded. Yet his caution must remain. He had to keep the children safe. And somehow he knew Mercy was a risk to them. And to him, too, though he couldn’t say why he included himself. He had no intention of letting any woman upset the stability he’d worked so hard to establish for the children. Especially a woman whose stated goal was to join a Wild West show. He’d had enough of women who wanted only to run off for whatever reason.

His jaw creaked as he warned himself of all the dangers he invited into his life by asking Mercy to watch the children, but he didn’t see what else he could do at the moment.

It would only be for a day or two, he told himself, then he’d insist Mercy stay away from all of them.

* * *