Falling for the Rancher Father. Linda Ford
evening did not get better and he was happy when the time came to tuck them in. They still refused to forgive him despite the fact he’d done nothing that required forgiveness.
And then he faced the lonely evening. Only then did he remember he had meant to warn Mercy of the man in the woods. He slipped outside and closed the door behind him. Had she gotten back safely? He strained to listen for any unusual noise in the woods. When he heard only coyotes howling and night birds calling he told himself he was being silly. Of course she’d gotten back safely. Surely someone would let him know otherwise.
He returned inside and prepared for bed but, despite his weariness, sleep did not come easily. How was he going to get a bigger cabin built and firewood brought in?
Still, hadn’t he planned to manage on his own when he moved here? Really nothing had changed.
Only his wish that things could be different. But even that wasn’t new. He’d wanted something more all his life. When he was sixteen he’d thought he’d find it in abandoning the principles his parents had taught him. When he married Ruby, he thought he’d find it with her. After the twins were born, he thought he’d find it in being a father and returning to his faith in God.
And yet... He dismissed the errant thought.
It was in obeying God and living a careful life and looking after the twins that he would find what he wanted.
His last thought before sleep claimed him was that Mercy had been glorious, all fire and flash. He meant to argue to the contrary but instead fell asleep with a smile on his lips.
His smile turned upside down the next day as he contemplated his work. The sky hung heavy with clouds threatening rain and making it impossible to consider taking the twins with him to the woods. That meant he must stay close to the cabin. Right after breakfast he went to the logs he had dragged in—the ones meant for firewood—and cut and stacked a supply.
The children stayed inside where they would be warm and dry. He returned to the cabin after a couple of hours to check on them and get a drink.
As he stepped through the door they both gave him accusing looks.
“There’s nothing to do,” Ladd said in his most disgruntled voice.
Allie nodded. “If Mercy was here she’d play games.”
“Or tell good stories,” Ladd added, with heavy emphasis on the word good, as if to say her stories were much better than any Abel had read or told.
He gave them both considered study before he said, “Or do something wild and woolly like this was part of Mr. Robert’s Circus Side Show.” He named a traveling circus.
Allie’s eyes gleamed and pink filled her cheeks. “That was the best of all.”
The mere mention of it overexcited his daughter. “It’s not good for you.” He downed a dipper of water and returned to the pile of wood. He wasn’t arguing with a pair of disappointed nine-year-olds. They didn’t know what was good for them. Even sixteen-year-olds couldn’t know. Wasn’t he proof of that?
At the end of the day, the twins ate their meals in accusing silence and went to bed without being told. Ladd reached over the edge of the cot and held Allie’s hand.
Their displeasure with Abel festered. But what choice did he have? He sat alone after they’d fallen asleep and faced his quandary. Without help, he would have to abandon plans to build a bigger cabin. They could spend the winter in this one just fine, if he had enough firewood to ward off the cold. On nicer days he could take the children to the woods with him, but how many nice days could he count on? As if to answer his question, the wind moaned through the treetops. God in heaven, I’m counting on You to help me. Maybe even send—he didn’t finish the request. Send someone to help. Mercy certainly wasn’t an answer to prayer.
He woke slowly the next morning. His eyelids didn’t want to face the day. His limbs felt heavy and unresponsive. But lying abed would not solve his problems.
He sighed and rolled over. The bed beside him was empty. He patted both sides to make sure. His eyelids jerked open. Where was Ladd? In the weak light Allie looked at him from her trundle bed, eyes wide and watchful.
He scanned the cabin. Ladd wasn’t there. The small quarters offered no hiding place, but he sat up and looked about again to make sure he hadn’t missed the boy.
“Where’s Ladd?” he asked Allie.
“Gone.”
“Gone?” Any remnant of sleep vanished as his blood raced through his veins. He grabbed his trousers and pulled them on under privacy of the covers. “Where?”
“To get Mercy. We want her to look after us. ’Sides, you need her here so you can get logs.” She sat in the middle of her bed and watched him as calm as could be while his arms turned leaden and he couldn’t seem to get them into the sleeves of his shirt.
“Mercy? She’s six miles away. When did he leave?” He peered out the window. The sun had not yet risen but cold gray light filled the clearing. Had his son ventured out in the dark? Was he lost? What about that whiskered man?
He pulled on his jacket and grabbed his rifle. But at the door he stopped. He couldn’t leave Allie here alone and wouldn’t take her out in the damp cold.
His lungs so tight he could hardly force in air, he faced the door. All he could do for the moment was pray. Oh, God, keep my boy safe. As soon as the sun drove back the chill, he would bundle Allie to her teeth and take her with him to find Ladd.
* * *
Mercy tiptoed from her room. If Abel didn’t want her help with the children, that was fine. It gave her more time to practice. She wanted to be able to twirl a big enough circle with her rope that she could swing it up and down over both herself and Nugget. She’d tried the day before yesterday. That’s when Abel had shown up all glower and snort. He didn’t bother to take into account that the children were content to sit quietly as they watched her. Nope. He simply ordered her off the place.
She missed the children. But she surely wouldn’t miss dealing with a man like Abel any more than she’d miss stabbing herself in the eye with a hot needle.
Carrying her boots so as not to disturb Linette and Grady, who were still miserable with their colds, she glided down the hall and creaked open the door. She glanced back at the stairs to make sure she hadn’t wakened them and slipped through the opening.
She turned and screamed as someone stood on the step before her. Heart in her mouth, she managed to croak out a greeting. “Ladd, you gave me a fright.” She looked past him as she pulled on her boots, expecting to see Abel and Allie. “Where’s your papa?”
Ladd ducked his head. “He was sleeping when I left.”
Mercy heard the words but they made no sense. “Left where?”
“Home.”
Surely he didn’t mean— “You mean the cabin?”
“Uh-huh. I promised Allie I would come and get you.” He grabbed her hand. “You have to come. Please. It was so boring without you. Allie even cried a little.”
She stared at the boy. “Does your papa know where you are?”
“Allie said she’d tell him.”
“But it’s barely light. How did you get here?”
“I followed the trail, but it was hard to see.” He glanced beyond her. “Someone helped me.”
Someone? So far as she knew the men were all on the roundup and the women tucked safely in their beds. Except for that whiskered man she’d seen. “What did this someone look like?”
“I don’t know. I couldn’t see him. He carried me and left me there.” Ladd pointed toward the barn. “I might have got lost if he didn’t help me. Actually, I think it was God helping.”
None