Susanne looked shocked. “Were you hurt?”
He looked at the palms of his hands as if checking for the rope burns and rubbed his stomach, remembering the bruises. “Nothing serious. You know what I said to Pa?”
“You thanked him for rescuing you?”
“Nope. I said, ‘Guess I won’t do that again.’” He leaned back on his heels, the memory ripe with so many good things. His pa’s concern, his ma’s pride in how hard he tried and the knowledge that they both cared about him in their different ways.
She laughed. “I would hope not.”
They returned to putting seeds in the ground. After the beets, beans and corn were planted, Susanne said, “I’ll have to do the carrot seeds. They need to be sprinkled carefully.”
The children stood to one side, watching. Robbie shoved Frank hard enough to make him fall down. Janie kicked at the dirt sending up puffs of dust.
“Stop doing that!” Liz said.
The children were getting restless. “Let’s do potatoes,” Tanner told them. “They’re fun.”
“Yeah!” Robbie yelled. He ran to the bucket holding the eyes.
“Whoa, there.” Susanne ran after him to save the potato eyes. Her bonnet fell down her back and her brown skirts flicked back and forth with each step. Her laughter filled the air as she caught up to Robbie and swung him off his feet. “What’s your rush?”
Tanner leaned on his hoe and enjoyed the scene.
“Tanner said it was fun.”
She set him down. “And so it shall be.”
Tanner’s inside warmed as he watched the pair laughing together.
Susanne found tin cans for each of the children and divvied the potatoes among them. They returned to his side where he waited with the hoe.
“Wait one minute,” Susanne said, and raced away.
Tanner again admired the view.
“Where’s she going?” Liz demanded.
“I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out when she gets back.” For his part, he was content to watch.
She ducked into the barn and he heard a clatter come from inside. Had she fallen over some of the farm implements strewn about? He started to toss the hoe aside so he could go after her when she marched out, triumphantly carrying another hoe.
“Let’s work in teams,” she said as she reached the garden. “That way the work will go twice as fast. Who wants to be on my team?”
To Tanner’s utter amazement, all four said they wanted to be on his.
Susanne tossed one hand in the air in what he hoped meant surprise. A part of his mind worried she might be offended. “You’re going to make me plant by myself? Does that seem fair?”
“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