Falling for the Rancher Father

“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 Newell. 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 obviously 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?

He pushed his chair back. “Ladd, Allie, come here.” He patted his knees and the pair scrambled into his lap. Their arms cradled his neck and he wrapped his arms about them both and held them tight.

“I love you two deeper than the ocean, higher than the sky and wider than forever. You are the very best thing that has ever happened to me. I wouldn’t trade either of you for gold nuggets the size of this cabin.” His voice trembled with the enormity of his love for them. “And don’t you ever forget it.”

“We won’t,” they chorused as they burrowed into his shirtfront.

He held them close as long as they would allow, but all too soon they wriggled away. “Get ready for bed while I clean the kitchen. Then I’ll read to you.”

A few minutes later, Ladd lay on the narrow bed he would share with Abel, and Allie crawled under the covers of the trundle bed right beside them.

“First, let’s say our prayers.”

The children closed their eyes and murmured their usual prayers, asking for blessings on the people in their lives. But then Ladd added, “And thank You for Mercy. I like her.”

Before Abel could protest, Allie added, “Bless Miss Mercy and help her be the best Wild West person ever. Amen.”

“Children, I don’t think you should be including Mercy in your prayers.” He hated to say it. Knew it didn’t make for sound theology.

Allie gave a gentle smile. “I think God would approve. He loves her, too, you know.”

What could he say? The child was right. And yet her defense of Mercy worried Abel. The woman signified danger for his children. But he simply said, “I suppose He does at that,” then opened the storybook he’d been reading to them.

This was his favorite time of the entire day. And he didn’t intend to let a certain wild woman ruin it for him.

He read for a few minutes as the children grew drowsy, then closed the book and prepared to tiptoe away, though he could only move a few feet before he ran out of space.

“Papa?”

“Yes, son?”

“Mercy is the smartest woman ever and would never do anything foolish.”

Abel’s sense of contentment and well-being crashed. Mercy again! How had she so quickly and thoroughly beguiled his children? He had to keep her away from them. How hard could it be? Yes, he needed help with the children. But he’d take them to Linette and leave instructions that they were to stay away from Mercy and she from them.

It was simple enough. Linette would surely understand and agree. Beside, how could she refuse if he gave instructions?

* * *

The next morning, Linette and Grady were sick with colds and Linette didn’t think it was wise for the twins to come for the day.

Mercy would deliver the message to Abel on her behalf, and then maybe she’d never see the man again. She could certainly live without his scorn. Yes, he had his reasons for concern over his daughter. Momentarily she felt a silly sense of longing at his affection for his kids. But more and more his final words churned inside her head. Foolish ways, indeed! Humph. He’d soon see firsthand how foolish she was when she became a star in a Wild West show. Not that she cared what he thought or whether he ever saw her perform.

She passed through the clearing that surrounded the ranch site and climbed the hill toward his cabin. Soon she entered the woods, where the cooler air made her pull her jacket tighter.

A dark shadow to her right caught her attention and as it slipped out of sight, her nerves tingled. An animal of some sort. Her pearl-handled pistols were stowed in her saddlebags, but she mostly used blanks in them. However, she had a business pistol and a rifle and both were loaded. She palmed the pistol and kept alert. Again she noticed the shadow. It passed so far to her right she wouldn’t have noticed it if she hadn’t been watching so carefully. Whatever it was followed her. Her skin prickled. This required further investigation. She guided Nugget off the trail, dismounted and slid through the trees toward the shadow, her gun at the ready. She paused and listened. There came a rustle of leaves as they fell to the ground to join the other yellowed and browned ones. Wind whispered through the trees. Birds cooed and called.

Then a metallic click froze her blood.

“Drop your gun and turn around real slow.”

She considered the order for about two seconds. But, knowing she had few options, she obeyed and with her arms raised to indicate she didn’t pose any danger, she turned to confront a man, short of stature, wide of beam with enough black whiskers to cover most of him for the winter.

“Why you sneaking up on me?” he demanded in a voice that sounded like he used his throat to store nails.

“Seems I didn’t do any sneaking up on anyone.”

“Only ’cause I’m better ’n you in the woods.”

Her grin felt crooked. “You are that all right.”

“Sure am. Now why you following me?”

“I didn’t know it was you, now did I? I thought it might be a wolf.”

He made a derisive sound. “And if it was, were you figuring to shoot him with that?” He nodded at her pistol on the ground.

“I figured to scare him off.”

“Missy, you sure are a greenhorn. What if I’d been a bear?” He lowered the gun and hooted like he enjoyed finding someone so foolish. There was that word again. It burned clear up her throat that she’d inadvertently proved Abel’s opinion of her. Not that he’d ever know.

“I guess in hindsight, I was a little careless.” She let her hands fall to her side and her breath eased out when he didn’t object. “Who are you?”

The man’s dark eyes narrowed. “Ain’t none of yer business. Just leave me alone if you know what’s good for ya.”

“Gladly. Now can I go?”

“Where ya going?”

“Don’t see that’s any of your business.”

He waved the gun as if to remind her he had the upper hand.

She shrugged. “Just delivering a message to a man, then I’m going about my own business.” She emphasized the final two words.

“Then git. And forget you ever saw me.”

She started away.

“Not that you’ll ever see me again.”

“Suits me fine,” she muttered when she was well out of hearing. The woods were getting overrun with crazy men.

As she continued on her journey, something about the whiskered man bothered her. She’d seen him somewhere. But where? She couldn’t place him. Had it been under good circumstances or bad? Was he a danger, or harmless except for his craziness? She shrugged. What difference did it make? He was likely only passing through.

She reached Abel’s cabin. His horse stood saddled and waiting. He opened the door as she approached, the twins at his side. As soon as he saw who it was he eased the children back to the cabin and pulled the door closed.

She gritted his teeth. A person could almost think he didn’t welcome her presence. Almost? It couldn’t have been plainer unless he hung a big sign over the door.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

Although his words were polite enough and his tone moderate, she felt the sharp edge of each syllable, and if not for her concern for Linette and Grady she would have reined Nugget around and left him to find out on his own her reason for coming. Instead, she swallowed a huge amount of resistance. “I brought a message from Linette. She and Grady are sick with colds and she asked you not to bring the children today.”

The harshness in his face fled, replaced with concern. “I trust they are not seriously ill.”

“Me, too.” Mercy’s heart had clenched at the thought of a sick child, but Linette assured her it was only a cold and normal for this time of year.

“Thank her for letting me know. I wouldn’t want Allie to get sick.”

“That’s what Linette said.”

The door creaked open and two little heads peeked out. “Hello, Miss Mercy,” the twins called.

“Hello, you two. How are you?”

“Good, thank you,” Allie said.

“Papa, are you going to take us with you to the woods now?” Ladd asked.

Abel looked toward the sky. The clouds had been thickening all morning. “I can’t. It looks like rain.”

Or snow, Mercy added silently.

“Then what are you going to do?” Ladd’s voice carried a huge dose of worry. “You said you had to get logs. Papa, we’ll be okay by ourselves. Won’t we, Allie?”

Allie nodded her head and looked determined.

“I’ll take care of Allie.” Ladd’s voice carried a hefty dose of concern.

Mercy’s eyes stung at Ladd’s sense of loyalty and responsibility. From the far recesses of her memory came a picture. She was about four, which would make Butler six. He’d held her hand tight as he helped her cross a bridge. As she looked at the memory, she realized there had never been any danger. The bridge was plenty wide enough that she wouldn’t fall off but only Butler’s hand had given her the courage to venture across.

Ladd’s promise to protect his sister reminded her of that moment.

Abel sighed deeply. “I really need to get those logs home.”

Was he going to leave the kids alone? “How old are you?” she asked them.

“Nine,” they answered together.

“But we’re very responsible,” Ladd assured her.

Mercy thought of the whiskered man in the woods. “Why don’t I stay with the children?” What had prompted her to make such an offer? He’d refuse without even considering it. After all, he’d made his opinion of her very plain. Foolish. The word stuck in her throat.

“Oh, please, Papa. Please.” Allie clasped her hands in a beseeching gesture and rounded her blue eyes.

Mercy hid a grin. Anyone who could deny such a plea would have to have a heart of stone.

“It’s an excellent idea, don’t you think, Papa?” Ladd added reasonableness to the request.

Mercy chewed her lip to keep from revealing her amusement.

Abel had his back to her, considering his children. Slowly he turned and faced her. His mouth drew back in a frown. Lines gouged his cheeks.

Even before he spoke, she knew he’d refuse.

Then Ladd tugged at his arm and Abel turned back to the children.

“Papa, you know you don’t have many days before winter.”

“You’re right, but still—” His shoulders rose and fell. He caught Allie’s chin. “Baby, you have to promise to take it easy.”

“I will, Papa.”

He placed his hand on Ladd’s head. “Sunshine, you have to promise to watch your sister.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “And no Wild West stuff.”

Mercy coughed. “Shouldn’t you be giving me the instructions?”

He faced her, rather reluctantly, she figured. “I will accept your offer but only because I’m desperate. It’s late in the season to be starting out and I must make up for lost time.”

“My,” she said, sighing as she pressed a palm to her chest, “your enthusiasm is overwhelming.”

Allie giggled, then seemed to think better of it and smothered it with her hand.

Abel’s eyes narrowed. They were the same dark blue as his son’s, Mercy noted. And he had the same unruly dark blond hair half controlled by his hat. “You can put your horse in the pen.” He nodded in the general direction. “And thank you for offering to watch the children.”

His thanks was so begrudging that she laughed as she reined about and took care of Nugget.

He was in his saddle when she sauntered back to the cabin. “The children know where everything is. If you need anything, ask them.” But he made no motion toward leaving.

She favored him with the most innocent, sweet look she could manage when inside she bounced back and forth between amusement and annoyance. “We’ll do just fine. Don’t worry.” She knew full well that every minute he was gone he would worry she might do something foolish. Some rebellious portion of herself that she’d never tamed urged her to add, “I’ll try not to do anything foolish.”

At the look on his face, she laughed.

Ladd and Allie stood in the doorway. “We’ll be good, Papa. Truly we will.”

“I’ll hold you to it.” He rode away.

Mercy didn’t wait for him to disappear from sight before she shepherded the twins inside and closed the door. “It’s getting colder by the minute,” she said by way of explanation for her hurry. She’d never been in the cabin before. Hadn’t been the least bit interested in it. Now she glanced around taking in every detail. Which didn’t take more than a minute. The cabin was smaller than Jayne and Seth’s. Only one tiny room. The small cookstove would more than heat the place on most days. She expected by the time the fire was hot enough to boil water the room would be hot enough to make a grown man drip with sweat. Only one tiny window allowed in light. The few shelves lining the wall overflowed with books, clothing, hardware. One corner of the ceiling had a definite sway to it. She recalled noticing damage to the roof outside. Abel had real cause for hurry if he meant to give these children a warm, safe place for the winter and she knew he did.