didn’t have any more faith in his words than he had in hers. Time alone would prove whether or not she was safe in his presence, but it wasn’t fear of him physically that made her shudder. No, it was the way the children looked at him. The way he had shown up to help when she floundered to manage on her own and the fact she’d been desperate enough to accept the agreement between them.
She already regretted her decision. Was she to be forever at the mercy of other people’s handouts and thus under obligation to them, wondering what they would demand in return?
The next morning Johnny and Levi accompanied Tanner to help move the horses. Pa had sent three of the hired cowboys to assist.
They rode directly toward the canyon where the horses were penned.
Tanner reined in at the hill closest to the Collins farm. “I’ll go warn the family to stay out of the way so they don’t spook the horses.”
His brothers waved him away and he turned Scout toward the farm.
Frank and Robbie saw him coming and raced down the trail to greet him, yelling about the horses.
Smiling, he waited for them to reach him. “What’s all the noise for?”
Frank caught his breath. “You’re bringing the horses here today?”
“That’s my plan.”
“My pa would be glad.”
“Then I am, too.” He perceived he and Frank shared something special—a desire to please a dead parent.
The two boys trotted by his side as he rode into the yard.
“Where’s your aunt? I need to talk to her.” He wished he could avoid it. All her fine talk yesterday of accepting a man based on his conduct sounded pure and sweet, but he’d heard it before—specifically from Miss Jenny Rosneau—and he knew untested words had no substance to them.
“In the house,” Frank said.
“Auntie Susanne,” Robbie yelled loud enough to make Scout snort in surprise.
Susanne came to the door, a kitchen towel in her hands. She smiled, her eyes catching the early-morning sun. “Yes, Robbie?”
Tanner swung down. “Morning, ma’am.” She stood framed in the doorway, apparently happy with whatever she was doing.
As her gaze shifted from Robbie to him, the light faded and her smile flattened. Her smile had not been for him. That was obvious.
He hadn’t expected otherwise. “Came to say we’re bringing the horses over this morning. Won’t take anything to spook them, so maybe you and the children could stay inside until we have them penned.”
She nodded. “I understand.”
He stood there captured by the moment and a dozen thoughts that didn’t make sense, most especially that something about Susanne made him think of his ma. They couldn’t be any more different. Ma was bronzed, while Susanne’s skin glowed like fine porcelain. He shifted his gaze so he could think more clearly. “I’ll see to things.”
“Thank you.”
Her words jerked his attention back to her. “For what?”
She gave a little shrug. “For letting me know.”
“You’re welcome.” He trotted away while he could still think. The two boys followed as he led the cow out to the far corner of the pasture and tethered her securely. They stayed right with him as he dragged the water trough out to the cow and they helped him carry water to fill it. They talked as he scoured the yard, removing anything that might spook the nervous horses. Or rather, they asked questions that he did his best to answer.
“How many horses you bringing?” Frank asked.
“Ten,” Tanner said.
“You got lots of help? My pa said getting them into the corrals would be the tricky part.”
“That’s a fact.” He told the boys how many men were with him.
“We could help,” Robbie said.
Tanner stopped cleaning up objects in the yard—some branches, a pitchfork, a scrap of rag—and looked into the younger boy’s eyes. “Robbie, the best way you can help is to stay inside until we have them in the corrals. Otherwise, you might frighten them. Think you can do that?” He didn’t mention that Robbie might be trampled. Tanner’s fists curled at the idea.
Robbie nodded.
Tanner gave the yard a sweeping glance. He could see nothing more that would alarm a wild animal. He turned his attention to the corrals. Jim Collins knew what he was doing when he built them. The valley ran from the box canyon downward to the yard, narrowing and providing a natural crowding passageway. By swinging the set of gates outward Tanner created an alleyway that would funnel the horses into the big pen. Even if the animals wanted to run, the men would have no trouble keeping them contained.
Satisfied, he spoke to the boys. “It’s time. Go on inside.”
As the boys went toward the house, he swung to Scout’s back and rode up to join the others. Tanner opened the barricade and the men slowly edged the animals out of the enclosure and down the coulee.
The animals snorted and neighed but moved easily along the narrow valley. At the yard they balked for a moment but the men had them surrounded and the only direction for the horses to go was into the big holding pen.
Tanner and Johnny both dismounted and closed the gates.
The men gathered round the corrals and admired the milling horses for a few moments before Big Sam’s three cowboys rode away on the heels of Tanner’s thank-yous.
“Those three are off Ma’s mare, if I don’t miss my guess,” Johnny said as he eyed the horses.
“I’m thinking those two, as well.” Tanner pointed out the two he meant.
“I barely remember Ma’s mare,” Levi said as he joined them.
Tanner grinned at his younger brother. “You were just a tadpole.”
“I was five.”
“I’m five, too,” said a little voice behind them, and all three jerked about.
Tanner’s heart raced up his throat when he saw Robbie. He thought he’d made himself clear about staying indoors. Thought the boy understood. “Does your aunt know you’re here?”
“Why? You only said we had to stay in until you had the horses in the corrals.” He climbed the fence to look at the herd. “Say. They’re even better-looking than I recall.”
Johnny and Levi grinned at each other.
“Robbie, you
