The Cowboy's Ready-Made Family Read Free

arrangement.
    Aunt Ada had left him alone with Susanne at his request. “I need to know what I’m getting in this bargain,” he’d said. As soon as the door closed behind Aunt Ada, he’d grabbed Susanne and started to paw her. Her skin crawled at the memory.
    â€œI’ll not marry you until I know you’ll be able to pay me back properly.”
    She’d fought him.
    â€œYou owe me, you little wildcat.”
    She’d broken free and locked herself in the bedroom, refusing to come out until Aunt Ada promised she wouldn’t have to go with the man.
    The next day she’d sent Jim a letter. It had taken two more years for him to invite her to join him. He’d said he always meant to get back to her, but he got busy with his family and working on the farm. She would have left Aunt Ada’s but without Jim’s help and without a penny to her name, she would simply be throwing herself from one situation to another. Better the one she knew and understood.
    Ever since then she’d been leery of men offering any form of help, and vowed she would never marry and owe a man the right to do to her as he wished.
    But at this moment she had no other recourse.
    â€œIf you don’t mind bringing her back.” She hoped his offer was only a neighborly gesture and he wouldn’t demand repayment.
    â€œNot at all.” He swung back onto the saddle without using the stirrups and reined about to trot from the yard.
    She stared after him, at a loss to know what to think. She couldn’t owe him for fear he’d demand repayment, but what could she do in return? Still, first things first. She turned to the children. “Let’s get the chickens back in.” And then she absolutely must figure out how to get the field plowed.
    Fifteen minutes later and a generous amount of oats thrown into the pen, the chickens were in and the gate closed.
    Two minutes afterward, three were out again, having found a hole in the fence. Susanne closed her eyes and prayed for a healthy dose of patience. “Frank, you stand at the hole and keep any more from getting out. I’ll find something to fix it with. You others, see if you can catch those hens.”
    She was knee-deep in the bits and pieces of Jim’s supplies in the corner room of the barn when the gentle moo of the cow jerked her about. “So you decided to come home, did you? You’re more bother than you’re worth.”
    Tanner rode in behind the cow, ducking through the open door just in time to catch her talking to the cow.
    For a moment, her embarrassment made it impossible to speak.
    â€œShe got out through a big hole in the pasture fence,” he said, without any sign of amusement or censure, which eased her fractured feelings.
    â€œI know. The fences all need repairing. I’m getting it done as fast as I can.” If she wrote down everything that needed doing around here it would require several pieces of paper. She was drowning in repairs. “Thanks for bringing the cow back.”
    He nodded. “You’re welcome. Ma’am, I could fix that fence for you. Wouldn’t take but a minute.”
    Her insides twisted with protest. It wasn’t as if she didn’t need help. As Alfred Morris pointed out regularly, anyone could see she wasn’t keeping up with the workload, but help came with a price. The lesson had been drilled into her day after day by Aunt Ada. “No, thank you. I have no wish to be under obligation to you.”
    His expression hardened. “Ma’am, you aren’t the first, nor will you be the last, to want me off their place because I’m half-Indian.” He backed his horse out of the barn.
    She climbed over the pieces of wood and wire at her feet as fast as she could and ran after him. “It has nothing to do with your heritage,” she called.
    But he rode away without a backward glance.
    She pressed her hand to her forehead. The last thing