Linda Ford - Falling for the Rancher Father

She pulled out an atlas she had borrowed from Linette and Eddie’s library. “Let’s see some of the places we could go.”

For the rest of the morning they pored over the book and she told them things she knew about each country they decided to visit. It was a good thing she had paid attention to her geography and history lessons.

“Now it’s time for the travelers to have something to eat.”

She made sandwiches and they ate outside. “I’ll make tea for us.” She left them on the quilt and made tea thinned with tinned milk and rejoined them on the quilt.

The thud of approaching horse hooves and rattle of a chain jerked her to her feet and instantly at attention, but it was only Abel dragging logs into the clearing to the spot where he meant to build a new cabin.

The children rose, too.

“Papa,” Allie called.

“Stay there until I finish.”

He unhooked the chains, then straightened and wiped his arm across his brow. All the while, he studied the children until Mercy fought an urge to jump up and down and say she hadn’t been doing anything wrong.

But she would not let his suspicious nature affect her.

His gaze settled on her. She met his look without flinching because—she told herself firmly—she had no reason to be nervous. Sunlight flashed in his eyes making them a warm blue. Their gazes held. The look went on and on until her lungs grew airless. She was overly aware of his study, of her own rapid heartbeat and of the shimmering air in the clearing.

He headed toward them and her ribs tightened so much her lungs could not work.

Ladd raced to him. “Papa, we have been having such fun.”

Abel shifted his attention to the boy, and Mercy gasped in an endless breath. What had happened? Why had she felt so strange, as if the air between them pulsed with something she couldn’t name?

Allie took two steps then waited for Abel to reach her and lift her to his arms. “We’ve traveled all over the world.”

Abel lifted his eyebrows in surprise. “I sure am glad you got back before I did. I might have worried.”

The twins laughed. “Oh, Papa,” Allie scolded. “We were here all the time.” She squirmed from his arms and ran to Mercy’s side and smiled up at her. “Mercy took us on a pretend voyage. I was the captain.”

“And I got to climb high and be the watchman.”

“I am most glad to see you’ve all survived your adventure.” His gaze bored into Mercy. She tried to tell herself he was warning her that the children better remain unharmed. But it wasn’t suspicion she saw or felt. His look measured her, examined her and left her again struggling to fill her lungs.

“Of course everyone is safe,” she murmured, then jerked away, saw the tin of cookies on the quilt and grabbed it. “Abel, we were about to have tea. Would you care to join us?” Oh no. Had she just called him by his given name? Surely another evidence of her unacceptable behavior. But it had somehow slipped out of its own accord.

“Oh, please do, Papa,” Allie begged. “It’s such fun.”

“I think I shall.” He sat cross-legged on the corner of the quilt. The children sat beside him.

His ready acceptance surprised her, made it impossible for her to think clearly. Shouldn’t he be in a hurry to get his work done instead of lingering here? But for some crazy reason, she’d asked. And now she must do as she’d offered and she passed the cookies and poured milk tea from the jug she had prepared.

As he sipped from his cup, he continued to watch her.

What did he want? Why did he keep looking at her so intently? Did he like what he saw? She squirmed under his scrutiny, rearranged the five remaining cookies in the tin, set the tin on the quilt and adjusted it several times. Then, to see if he still stared at her, she lifted her gaze back to him. She blinked as her eyes collided with his blue ones.

Had he watched her all this time?

He jerked his gaze away and put his cup down. “I have to get back to work.” He gained his feet in a flash. “I can get more logs hauled in this afternoon.” He clamped his hat on his head and strode away.

“Bye, Papa,” the twins called, then turned their attention back to their cookies and tea.

Mercy saw Abel pause at the edge of the clearing to glance their way again. His look slid past her and then returned. He shook his head as he guided the horse out of sight.

Mercy tried to analyze what had just happened. Why had he stared so long? Why had she found it so difficult to breathe? It didn’t make sense. She had befriended all the cowboys at the ranch. She had been at ease with the sailors on the ship and with everyone—male or female—she met in between. But never had she felt such a strange tightness in her throat or a twitch behind her eyeballs.

Goodness. The man didn’t even approve of her. He only tolerated her presence because he had no other way of providing supervision for his children. Still, she couldn’t help admiring his devotion to the twins. Many children didn’t ever know such approval from either parent. As for her, he made his opinion crystal clear.

She shook her head, as Abel had done, and wondered if he was as confused as she was.

What was wrong with the pair of them?

They didn’t much care for each other and yet... She shook her head again.

It must be the autumn sunshine so warm and deceptive when everyone knew it could change overnight. The temporary delay had lulled them all into a make-believe state.

She turned her attention back to the children. It was time to enjoy the present and forget the unexplainable.

Chapter Four

Abel shook his head several times as he returned to work. What had made him stop in the middle of a sunny afternoon to share tea and cookies with Mercy and the children? He couldn’t afford to waste daylight when winter was hard on his heels.

He’d observed Mercy and the children a few minutes without them seeing him. The three of them sharing a picnic. Such a domestic scene. Mercy bending her head toward Ladd and then Allie as they talked. Touching their heads and laughing. The twins drinking her in with their eyes.

His throat had tightened. This happy scene was all he’d dreamed of since the twins were born. Only he’d hoped Ruby would be the one sharing the moment with the children. And he would be right at her side.

Mercy did not fit into the picture he imagined. She wore loose trousers. All the easier to ride in. Mercy obviously did not care about following any rules in her life. Remember, he warned himself, this woman wants to join a Wild West show.

Yet as their gazes connected across the clearing, he seemed unable to remember his arguments. He tried to pull his thoughts into order as he unhooked the logs. This woman was different from Ruby only in her upbringing. Certainly not in what she wanted from life. He and the children didn’t count in her plans. He must bear that in mind.

Then her gaze had snagged his again like some kind of rope trick—demanding, probing, searching...for what he could not say, but he felt as if she reached into his chest and sought to squeeze truth from his heart. How silly. He’d been nothing but truthful with her.

He spent the rest of the afternoon working in the woods. Despite his best efforts to the contrary, his thoughts kept harking back to the cabin and the trio on the quilt enjoying the sunshine. He straightened at the truth he’d discovered—they enjoyed each other while he worked alone. He shook his head at how foolish his thoughts had grown. Of course he worked alone. And the children were safe at home. That’s what he wanted. Only he felt isolated.

He bent his back to the task and swung his ax with renewed vigor. He didn’t let up until the late afternoon shadows lengthened. He knew he must return if he hoped for Mercy to reach the ranch before dark.