A Family In Wyoming

Pushing through the dining room door, she was surprised to see a light on in the living room...and even more surprised to find Wyatt Marshall seated in the rocking chair.

She stopped short. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think anyone would still be up.”

He shook his head. “No problem. Can’t sleep?” A big man, with broad shoulders and long legs, he seemed to dominate the spacious room. The big, golden dog lay at his feet, its tail thumping the floor.

Susannah swallowed against a sudden surge of nervousness. “Not yet.”

“Sometimes your brain won’t shut off even when you need it to.” Thanks to the brace he wore, he was sitting bolt upright in the rocker, looking anything but comfortable. The strong planes of his face created an impression of austerity. But his deep-set brown eyes were compassionate. “Garrett is right. Worry and regrets won’t change anything tonight. Right now your kids are safe. You’ve got friends you can count on. Your troubles will keep until morning.”

“Until morning. Got it.” Seeking a distraction, she nodded toward the book in his hand. “Is the story so good it’s keeping you awake?”

A smile widened his well-shaped lips. “My back keeps me awake, but the book gives me something to focus on besides how much I’d rather be in bed.” After a pause, he cleared his throat. “Asleep.”

“What is the story about?”

With a finger marking his place, he showed her the cover, which featured a sword and a shield. “The Battle of Thermopylae in 480 BC.”

Susannah frowned. “I don’t know what that is. Was.”

“A small force of Greek soldiers held off the Persian army for a week and then lost their lives defending a narrow pass through the hills. The soldiers’ example inspired the rest of the country, and eventually the Persians were defeated in their attempt to take over all of Europe. It’s a pretty important moment in history.”

Examining the shelves flanking the fireplace, she saw that many of the volumes were about war. “Are battles your favorite subject?”

He came to join her in front of the books. “I enjoy history, especially military history. So much of human destiny has been decided on the battlefield.”

She realized just how tall he was when she had to look up at his face. “I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

His keen gaze met hers. “Facts are facts. If you aren’t familiar with the past, you’re just going to repeat it.”

“Yes, I’ve heard that quote before. But maybe we use the past too often as a pattern, instead of searching for new solutions.”

Wyatt closed his book and slotted it into an opening on the shelf, before turning toward her. “An interesting point of view. Sounds as if you’ve done some reading of your own.”

“Not really. Not...lately.” She moved away from the shelves. Away from his attention. “My parents were both teachers. They talked about ideas at the supper table.”

“That’s a good way to learn.”

Foolish, to bring up such painful memories. “It should have been. But I was a careless teenager, more involved with my friends and boys than what they had to say.” Running a finger along the top of the rocking chair, she blew out a deep breath. “I wasted the opportunity.”

“It’s never too late to learn.”

“Oh, I think sometimes it is. Right now I’m more concerned about what to do for Nathan and Amber than what happened thousands of years ago.”

“You do have some decisions to make. Forgive me for butting in, but I’m hoping one of them isn’t to go back to that bastard who hurts you.”

The intense anger in his voice mirrored her own. “That’s not an option. He stepped over the line tonight with Nathan. I can’t let him hurt my children.”

“Good for you.”

She gripped the rail of the rocker with both hands. “But I don’t know what comes next. Ford said something about an order of protection. Are we supposed to stay in the trailer after that? Where will Travis live? If he stays there, how will I get the children’s clothes and toys?” Once again, concerns and uncertainties ambushed her, buzzing in from all directions. “Where will I get a job in a place as small as Bisons Creek? Or do we have to move to find work? Where? How can I secure a place to live without a paycheck? What about—”

Appalled, Susannah clapped her hands over her mouth to stop the flow of words. What had possessed her to unload on Wyatt Marshall like that? “I’m so sorry,” she whispered from behind her palms.

He came to stand about an arm’s length away. “I can solve a couple of those problems.”

She uncovered her face. “You’ve already done more than enough. I shouldn’t be bothering—”

“Maybe you ought to stay here for a while. At least for the summer, while your son’s in camp.”

“I couldn’t possibly impose on you for so long.”

“You could if you worked as our housekeeper and cook.”

Hearing the words made her mind go blank. She could only stare at him in shock.

“Even if I wasn’t trussed up in this brace, I’ve never been much good in the kitchen,” he said with a lift of his big hands. “Or the rest of the house, for that matter. This summer, my brothers are going to be tied up with the ranch work I can’t do, plus the kids in the camp. Dylan’s got sculptures to work on, Garrett has his responsibilities at the church, and Ford will be going back to his law office in San Francisco soon. We really need somebody who can take care of this place, maybe put together a meal for me now and then. We would pay you, of course. And you’d be safe here while you got things...straightened out...with your husband.”

“I—I don’t know what to say.” She could barely breathe, let alone think. “C-can I give you an answer tomorrow?”

“Sure. Whenever you decide. In the meantime, make yourself at home.” His smothered yawn seemed too convenient to be real. “I believe I’m ready to hit the sack. Just flip the light off when you’re ready.” He stopped at the doorway to the hall but didn’t glance back. “Night, Susannah. Come on, Honey.”

She started, then realized that was the dog’s name. “Good night.” On impulse, she added, “What time do you eat breakfast?”

Wyatt pivoted to face her again. He wore a big grin. “I’m sleeping late these days, don’t get up much before six or six thirty.” Touching two fingers to an invisible hat brim, he nodded. “See you in the morning.”

Standing in the living room, Susannah listened as his footsteps receded down the hallway. Wyatt Marshall struck her as a remarkable man. Despite his injury, he seemed to be in control—of himself, of his surroundings, of life in general. And his generosity amazed her. Not only was he holding a summer camp for teenagers on his ranch, but he’d offered a solution to her most pressing problem—she and the children could stay on the ranch while she saved up the money she needed to find a new home and a real job. His kindness might even extend to giving her a reference she could use when she applied. How helpful that would be!

After turning out the living room lamp, she went back to the lovely guest room, where she saw that Amber still hadn’t stirred. With her shoulders sagging under the weight of fatigue, Susannah folded down the covers on her side of the bed, finally ready to rest. She had just lifted her feet off the floor when her cell phone gave a familiar ring.

Travis.

She jumped up and grabbed her purse off the dresser, rummaged for the phone...but then hesitated as it rang again. Should she answer?

With the third ring, Amber frowned and her eyelashes fluttered. “Mommy?”

Susannah leaned over to put a palm on her daughter’s shoulder. “Shh, baby. It’s okay. I’m here.” With her free hand, she pushed the button to talk. “Hello?”

“Susie? Susie, honey, where are you?” His words were slurred. “I miss you, sweetie. Come home.” He’d moved through the anger phase of being drunk and would now become more and more maudlin. If she were there, she’d put him to bed and he’d sink into unconsciousness.

“Susie?”

“I can’t come home.” The words were hard to say. She’d loved him for so long. Just not anymore. “We won’t be back, Travis.”

“Don’t say that. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it, honey.” He sniffed hard, as if he was crying. “I’ll change. Really, I will. I’ll go to AA. That social worker can help me.”

Thirteen years of promises were as much as she could take. “No, Travis. Not this time.”

The rage flared up. “They’re my kids, too. You can’t keep them from me.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and remembered Nathan, crumpled on the floor where his father had thrown him earlier that night. “I told you that if you hurt them, I would keep them away from you. And you did that tonight.”

In the long silence that followed, she could hear his fractured breathing, could picture him trying to pull himself together.

“It doesn’t have to be like this,” he said. “Give me another chance, Susie. We’ll make it work.” When she didn’t answer, he continued to plead. “We were good together, you know? We’ve had lots of fun, even with the kids. I can get it together, find a job. Don’t give up on me, Susie, I swear—”

Susannah pressed the button to end the call and then turned off the phone altogether. As she curled up on the bed beside Amber, her eyes burned with tears. The despair she’d been fighting for hours threatened to swamp her.

She’d made such a mess of her life. Her children were suffering because of her foolishness, her bad choices. How could she ever compensate for those mistakes?

Wyatt’s deep, warm voice came into her head. Worry and regrets won’t change anything tonight... You’ve got friends you can count on. She recalled the concern in his brown eyes, the encouragement in his smile.

Friends. She hadn’t had many of those over the years. Travis never liked the women she’d tried to connect with...or else he liked them too well. Susannah hadn’t been blind to those affairs. But for some reason he had always come back to her.

Now, though, the Marshall brothers had declared themselves her friends. Caroline Donnelly would stand beside her, too. If they were willing to offer so much help, she couldn’t let them down. Couldn’t let her children down. Somehow she would have to dredge up the courage and determination to accept Wyatt’s offer. She would spend the summer working for him, doing whatever she could to make his recovery easier, maybe help with the kids’ camp, as well. Amber and Nathan would have a chance to recover from Travis’s influence and experience a more settled, responsible way of living.

At the end of the summer, she would find a job, probably in a bigger town like Casper, or Cheyenne or Laramie. As for a divorce...she’d already filed the papers, which had only made the situation worse. Travis had never hurt one of the children until tonight, when he was notified of her petition. Now that he knew, he would put up every roadblock he could think of to keep the kids, including a custody battle, and the court might very well give him visitation, at least. Then he would be part of their lives forever. The prospect drenched her with dread. What would it take for them to be free?

With her thoughts still in turmoil, Susannah began to wonder if she’d be awake all night long. Sleep finally claimed her but only until the sound of a shower running somewhere in the house roused her at five thirty. Anxious to start her new job—her new life!—responsibly, she groped her way out of bed and into the bathroom, where a cold washcloth on her face and arms dispelled most of the brain fog. She donned a clean shirt and jeans, combed her hair and twisted it into a messy bun. She even managed to put on some lipstick. Just as the shower cut off, she left the guest room and made her way to the kitchen.

But the coffeepot defeated her. A stainless-steel monster with no obvious controls, it lurked on the counter, daring her to do something stupid and break it. The only coffee she found was a bag of whole beans, beside a grinder as intimidating as the brewer. Susannah hung her head. Not even six o’clock and she’d already failed.

“Well, good morning!”

She whirled to find Garrett Marshall standing in the doorway. His wet hair identified him as the one who’d taken the shower. “G-good morning. I was going to make some coffee, but...”

He sent her a grin nearly as appealing as his older brother’s. “It’s quite a contraption, isn’t it? Dylan decided we should upgrade from the standard plastic-and-glass model.” He joined her at the counter. “I will admit this version makes a great brew. Let me run you through the process.”

Within minutes, they were sampling the results. Susannah savored the aroma rising from her mug. “I had no idea coffee could taste this rich. I’ll have a pot made at about five thirty tomorrow. And breakfast at six thirty. Will that work for you?”

Garrett shook his head. “You don’t have to worry about that. I usually make the coffee. As for breakfast—”

“It’s my job,” she told him with some pride. “Wyatt hired me last night to cook and keep house.”

The man on the other side of the breakfast bar gazed at her for a long moment. Then he chuckled. “Of course he did. It’s a great idea.” He offered a handshake. “Welcome to the staff at the Circle M. Wyatt is the main one you’ll be making breakfast for, besides yourself and Amber. Occasionally I’ll need something, too, and maybe Dylan, those mornings after he stays up late working on his sculpture. The camp kids do most of their own cooking, so Ford, Caroline and I try to show up for their meals as a gesture of support. I expect to lose a good ten pounds this summer, when all is said and done.”

She laughed with him. “I’ll have a supply of cookies on hand, to keep your strength up.”

“I’ll hold you to that promise.”

By six thirty, she’d explored all the cabinets and the refrigerator, started a pan of biscuits baking and arranged a place setting at the breakfast bar, where Garrett said Wyatt preferred to stand and eat. When she heard new steps coming down the hallway, she quickly poured a big cup of coffee and turned just in time to see Wyatt enter the kitchen. Wearing a wrinkled T-shirt and sweat pants, with his hair uncombed and his puffy-eyed face unshaven, he reminded her of a bear just coming out of hibernation.

She couldn’t help smiling at him. “Good morning! Here’s your coffee. How do you like your eggs?”

“Damnation,” he growled, squeezing his eyes shut for a few seconds. When he opened them again, he was scowling. “I’d forgotten you were here.”

So much for the first day of her new life!

Chapter Two

July

“Will you play with me?” a little voice asked. “Please?”

Honey, dozing on the floor beside the desk, raised her head at the intrusion. Wyatt started to glance over his shoulder, but a stab of pain in his back stopped him. With an irritated snort, he swiveled his chair away from the computer instead.

But his bedroom seemed to be empty. “Who’s there?”

The five-year-old peeked around the corner of his dresser. “Me.” She eyed him nervously. “Amber.”

Not wanting her to be afraid of him, he kept his tone gentle. “Why are you hiding, Me Amber?”

She glanced behind her. “My mommy said not to bother you,” she said at a lower volume.

He smothered a smile. “So why did you?”

“’Cause I want to play Candyland.” Coming out from behind the dresser, she displayed the game box she was holding. In a bright yellow T-shirt, green shorts and green sneakers, she reminded him of a cheerful dandelion. “And you can’t play by yourself.”

Wyatt remembered playing the game with Dylan when his brother was about this age. “Did you ask your mom to play with you?”

Her golden curls bounced as she nodded. “She has to dust the bookshelves. And wash the windows. And sweep the fireplace.”

“That’s a lot to do.” In the short time she’d been there, Susannah Bradley had systematically overhauled the place, room by room. He scarcely saw her during the day, she stayed so busy. And the house had never been so clean, so easy to live in. The meals she prepared tempted him as food hadn’t in years. On her breakfasts alone, he’d have been well fueled for a full day’s work...if he wasn’t stuck in the house with nothing to occupy him but wrangling numbers.

The least he could do was give her daughter a few minutes of his time. “Sure. I’ll play with you. Come on in.”

He rolled his chair over to the bed and they set up the board on the mattress, which Susannah made up for him in the mornings while he ate breakfast—an image he tried to avoid when he went to lie down at night. The image of her graceful hands smoothing his sheets did nothing to foster a good night’s sleep.

“Now, this is how you play,” Amber said, explaining the rules as she shuffled the cards with an endearing clumsiness. She was very serious about the process, frowning as she moved her piece from square to square, instructing him on the meaning of each card he drew. Even though he knew next to nothing about little girls, he felt he had the situation under control.

Until she landed on a licorice square. “No!” She bounced on the bed, upsetting the playing pieces and scattering the cards. “I don’t want to lose my turn!”

He made the mistake of arguing. “That’s the way you said the game works.”

“But you’ll get ahead of me,” she wailed. “It’s not fair!”

In the next moment, Susannah’s voice came down the hallway. “Amber? Amber, where are you?” Then she stood at his door. “What in the world...?”

Getting to his feet, Wyatt cleared his throat. “We’re...uh...playing Candyland.”

Standing by the bed, she crossed her arms and glared at her daughter. “What did I tell you?”

Staring at her hands, Amber hunched her shoulders. “Not to bother him.” Then she looked up. “But he wanted to play. Didn’t you?” Wide blue eyes, still wet with tears, begged for his support.

“I did.” He caught Susannah’s gaze. “It’s okay. Really. I’ve got nothing but time.”

“You’re very generous.” Taking a deep breath, she let her arms relax. But a faint flush on her cheeks revealed that she was still upset. “You don’t have to be a babysitter. It’s not part of the arrangement.”

“I’m not a babysitter,” he shot back. Then he softened his tone. “I’m a friend. Amber’s friend. And yours.”

Her shoulders slumped slightly. “I know. I just...hate taking advantage. We owe you and your brothers so much already.” Even though she must have been working hard, she seemed neat and fresh, her sleeveless blue shirt and khaki shorts as crisp as when he’d first seen her early this morning.

“You’re helping us out.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “And we’re grateful.”

She started under his touch. Her gaze flashed to his face and then away.

Wyatt withdrew his hand quickly, silently cursing himself. Like a mistreated horse, a woman who’d been abused would naturally be shy of men. How had he let himself forget?

“We’re doing fine in here,” he said then, jaw tense, fingers shoved into the pockets of his jeans. “Don’t worry.”

Stepping to the side of the bed, Susannah pointed a finger at her daughter. “No more tantrums over the game, Amber. You’re a big girl and you know you have to play by the rules. Nathan taught you. Remember?”

“I ’member. I’ll be good.” She beamed an angelic smile. “Can we start over? I messed up the board.”

Wyatt frowned at her. “I think I’ve been conned. But, yeah, we can start over.”

He only wondered if he would have to do the same with her mother.

* * *

SUSANNAH WENT TO the kitchen and poured herself some coffee, cradling the mug with both hands to hold it steady.

Wyatt had touched her. And she’d jumped, like a nervous teenager. How stupid could she be?

She didn’t believe for a second that he would hurt her. That wasn’t the problem. But her own response had shocked her—an immediate urge to lean into his hand, to savor the warmth of his palm, the strength of his fingers.

Where had that come from?

The sound of footsteps heralded Caroline’s arrival in the kitchen. “Good afternoon! I see you have a formidable project underway in the living room.”

“I noticed the books needed dusting.” Susannah gathered her scattered thoughts. “I’ll have everything restored to order by dinnertime.”

“I’m impressed that you decided to tackle it at all. There’s no telling when—if ever—that chore was last attempted.” Dark haired and petite, wearing jeans and a green T-shirt, boots and a white hat, she epitomized the perfect cowgirl. “I left Dylan and Garrett watching the kids jog their horses around the corral. I’m dying for some coffee to keep me awake.” Pouring a cup, she sent Susannah a conspiratorial wink. “Too many late nights spent on the phone with Ford in San Francisco.”

“When does he come back for good?” Though he’d meant to stay on the ranch for only a few weeks while Wyatt recuperated, falling in love with Caroline had inspired Ford to leave his law practice in California for his home and family in Wyoming. He’d brought with him the lovely engagement ring now resting on Caroline’s left hand.

“At the end of the week, thank goodness. I can’t believe how much I miss him.”

Susannah realized she hadn’t seen Travis for almost two weeks—and she hadn’t missed him at all, had actually been more contented than she’d felt in years. Shame brought heat to her face. “I’m sure you do.”

Caroline gazed at her for a moment and then crossed the kitchen to stand nearby. “You don’t have to feel guilty,” she said quietly. “He forfeited his claim to your concern, your love, the first time he hurt you. You and your children have every right to find a place where you’re safe and cared for.”

“I know.” Susannah swallowed hard. “It’s just...he wasn’t always like...that.”

“But you have to cope with the present, not the past.”

“He could change.” The possibility seared her conscience. “What if I gave up too soon?”

Leaning one hip against the counter, the cowgirl social worker ran a finger around the rim of her mug. “Do you think he will?” After a moment, she met Susannah’s gaze. “Are you willing to risk Nate and Amber’s well-being on that possibility?”

“No!”

Caroline nodded, lifting her mug in a salute. “You’ve made the smart and brave choice. Just take things one step at a time for a while. Let the past recede and the future wait awhile. For now, this summer, the three of you are in a good place.”

Picturing the big man playing Candyland with her daughter, Susannah smiled. “You’re right. We are.”

Caroline stopped by the plate of peanut butter cookies on the kitchen table. “Mmm...these look delicious.” She chose one and finished it off. “That Nate of yours is a natural horseman, by the way. He rides as if he’s been in the saddle since he was a baby.”

Susannah dumped the dregs of the coffee in the sink and poured out beans to start a fresh pot for Wyatt’s afternoon consumption. “He’s always loved horses. Whenever we went to the library, he found books about cowboys, ranches and riding. I’m sure he enjoys being here.”

“I hope so. We’ll see to it that he gets as much horse exposure as possible. Meanwhile, I’m taking one more of these cookies as I go. Once Dylan, Wyatt and Garrett find them, there won’t be any left.” She grabbed another cookie on her way out.

With the coffee made, Susannah decided she’d better check on the gamers in the room at the far end of the hall. Since Amber hadn’t wandered off seeking new entertainment, Susannah expected to find them still absorbed in the colors of Candyland.

Her heartbeat quickened as she approached the doorway, which was ridiculous. Nothing had happened to make her nervous. She drew a deep breath and relaxed her clenched fingers. Maybe she’d indulged in too much coffee today.

When she stepped into the room, she was surprised to find the game abandoned on the bed. Wyatt sat at his desk, with Amber on the floor beside his chair, her box of crayons and what seemed to be a ream of paper spread around her.

Amber glanced up as Susannah stood staring. “I’m drawing, Mommy.” The page she held featured one diagonal blue line. “See?”