style="font-size:15px;"> “I’ll help you,” Liz said, and went to her aunt’s side.
Tanner edged backward. He had no desire to come between Susanne and her charges. But perhaps he could offer a solution. “Tell you what.” He addressed the children. “We’ll make teams and plant one row then make new teams for the next row. Agreed?”
They nodded.
“Liz and Robbie are on your aunt’s team for the first row. Frank and Janie are on mine.”
The children sorted themselves out and got into place at the end of the first two rows. Susanne and her team beside Tanner and his team.
He tried not to be aware of her. Not to feel her elbow bump him. Not to want to close his eyes and breathe in her presence. He cleared his throat. “Ready?”
“Yes!” they chorused.
He secretly smiled at Susanne’s eager participation.
“On your mark. Get set. Go.” He dug a hole, one of the children dropped in an eye. He scooped the dirt over it. He dug another hole. The other child dropped in an eye and Tanner covered it. Beside him, Susanne did the same thing. He kept himself to a slow, steady pace so they worked side by side.
They reached the end and turned about. Liz and Frank traded places and they planted two more rows. At the end, Janie and Robbie traded places.
All too soon they were done and the six of them stood back and admired their work. He wouldn’t mind staying there the rest of the afternoon, but that was impossible.
“What’s next?” he asked.
“Just lettuce and small stuff. I’ll finish up. I want to plant some flowers, too.” Her voice grew dreamy.
He stole a look at her. She looked at the garden, a slight smile on her lips as if she saw it in full bloom.
She held out her hands to draw the children close. “Let’s thank God for the garden and ask Him to bless it.” She raised her eyebrows as she looked at Tanner.
He shook his head and backed up. “This is your garden.”
She seemed to understand and, with the children clustered about her, she bowed her head. The children followed her example.
He snatched his hat off, at the same time smiling at how Janie held her hands together in prayer.
“Dear Heavenly Father,” Susanne said in a reverent yet trusting tone. “Thank You that our garden is planted. Bless it with rain and sunshine. Provide us with food from the ground. Thank You that You hear our prayers and always, always meet our needs and take care of us. Amen.”
For a moment they remained huddled together, then the children ran to play.
He didn’t put his hat back on, feeling as if he stood on holy ground.
She faced him, a gentle smile on her lips. “Thank you,” she said. “I’ve been worried about the garden since the snow melted. I know God will take care of me, provide for our needs, but it’s easier to trust when I see things happening.”
He nodded, not knowing how to respond. Then words escaped him. “It’s difficult to trust when you can’t see God or know if He’s listening.”
Her eyes widened. “He’s always listening. He’s always near. We have His promise and I have but to look about to see His presence in all that He’s created.”
Tanner needed proof in this aspect of his life as he did in every aspect. When he didn’t respond she smiled though her eyes remained guarded.
“Anyway, thanks again for your help. You made it fun for the children.”
“It’s the way I was raised. Maisie always says there’s no point in looking at work as drudgery when it can as easily be joyful.” He had to clear up something that lingered at the back of his mind. “I hope you weren’t upset because the children all wanted to be on my team.” He had no desire to earn her disfavor. On the heels of that thought came another so foreign it was surely a mistake. He’d enjoyed working with her and had allowed himself to believe she didn’t mind working with him. He knew it couldn’t be so. He’d known most of his life both on the ranch and off that he was neither white nor Indian. Some of the cowboys called him injun and tormented him. Or at least they had until Tanner got strong enough they feared crossing him.
In town—well, he wasn’t going to dwell on the many times he’d been shunned at a social event or young ladies refused to sit by him or even crossed the street to avoid him.
It was enough to enjoy one sunny afternoon when he didn’t feel that disapproval. He wasn’t in a hurry to end it, but he must before she did.
He moved away six feet, paused to speak his piece. “Tomorrow I’ll return to take care of plowing the field for the crop. I won’t bother you again.”
* * *
Susanne stared after him as he rode from the yard. It seemed he couldn’t wait to get away. Her cheeks warmed. Had she said too much? Given him reason to think she expected him to be ready and willing to take care of chores other than the crop? But she wanted nothing from him other than the fulfillment of their agreement.
She returned to the garden, planted a patch of lettuce and then marked out several round areas for flowers next to the fence so she could enjoy them from the kitchen window.
Maybe Tanner had a young lady he was interested in. That would explain his eagerness to let Susanne know he would be avoiding her. The young lady should consider herself fortunate. Tanner would certainly make a good husband and father if the way he’d acted this afternoon was any indication.
She’d enjoyed the afternoon, perhaps more than she had a right to. But the lessons learned from Aunt Ada had not been in vain. Every pleasant moment ended poorly, so she wasn’t surprised that Tanner had suddenly withdrawn and made it clear he wanted to avoid her in the future. However, she would not let it ruin her day. Another Aunt Ada lesson.
She finished her planting, put away the tools and supplies then went out to the pasture to get the cow.
The walk gave her time to settle her thoughts and bring them back to where they belonged. God, I’m trying to be grateful that Tanner seems to be the answer to my prayer for help, but in truth, I’m perhaps not as grateful as I should be. I’m sure You understand how cautious I am about this. You are the only one I can count on. You love me unconditionally. You will never leave me or forsake me.
Since God could read her thoughts there was no point in being less than honest, so she admitted it had been fun working alongside Tanner. She even admitted she sometimes had yearnings for something more in her life. Those yearnings would not be given a name. They must be denied. Her job was to raise the children and do it in a way that they would never feel they were a burden to her. She’d never put them in a position of obligation.
She’d tell Tanner she meant to end their agreement but then how could she get the crop in on her own? Besides, he already had his horses there.
She couldn’t tell him not to come. But she’d make certain to accept nothing more from him.
She put
