He jerked his gaze away and put his cup down. “I have to get back to work.” He gained his feet in a flash. “I can get more logs hauled in this afternoon.” He clamped his hat on his head and strode away.
“Bye, Papa,” the twins called, then turned their attention back to their cookies and tea.
Mercy saw Abel pause at the edge of the clearing to glance their way again. His look slid past her and then returned. He shook his head as he guided the horse out of sight.
Mercy tried to analyze what had just happened. Why had he stared so long? Why had she found it so difficult to breathe? It didn’t make sense. She had befriended all the cowboys at the ranch. She had been at ease with the sailors on the ship and with everyone—male or female—she met in between. But never had she felt such a strange tightness in her throat or a twitch behind her eyeballs.
Goodness. The man didn’t even approve of her. He only tolerated her presence because he had no other way of providing supervision for his children. Still, she couldn’t help admiring his devotion to the twins. Many children didn’t ever know such approval from either parent. As for her, he made his opinion crystal clear.
She shook her head, as Abel had done, and wondered if he was as confused as she was.
What was wrong with the pair of them?
They didn’t much care for each other and yet... She shook her head again.
It must be the autumn sunshine so warm and deceptive when everyone knew it could change overnight. The temporary delay had lulled them all into a make-believe state.
She turned her attention back to the children. It was time to enjoy the present and forget the unexplainable.
Chapter Four
Abel shook his head several times as he returned to work. What had made him stop in the middle of a sunny afternoon to share tea and cookies with Mercy and the children? He couldn’t afford to waste daylight when winter was hard on his heels.
He’d observed Mercy and the children a few minutes without them seeing him. The three of them sharing a picnic. Such a domestic scene. Mercy bending her head toward Ladd and then Allie as they talked. Touching their heads and laughing. The twins drinking her in with their eyes.
His throat had tightened. This happy scene was all he’d dreamed of since the twins were born. Only he’d hoped Ruby would be the one sharing the moment with the children. And he would be right at her side.
Mercy did not fit into the picture he imagined. She wore loose trousers. All the easier to ride in. Mercy obviously did not care about following any rules in her life. Remember, he warned himself, this woman wants to join a Wild West show.
Yet as their gazes connected across the clearing, he seemed unable to remember his arguments. He tried to pull his thoughts into order as he unhooked the logs. This woman was different from Ruby only in her upbringing. Certainly not in what she wanted from life. He and the children didn’t count in her plans. He must bear that in mind.
Then her gaze had snagged his again like some kind of rope trick—demanding, probing, searching...for what he could not say, but he felt as if she reached into his chest and sought to squeeze truth from his heart. How silly. He’d been nothing but truthful with her.
He spent the rest of the afternoon working in the woods. Despite his best efforts to the contrary, his thoughts kept harking back to the cabin and the trio on the quilt enjoying the sunshine. He straightened at the truth he’d discovered—they enjoyed each other while he worked alone. He shook his head at how foolish his thoughts had grown. Of course he worked alone. And the children were safe at home. That’s what he wanted. Only he felt isolated.
He bent his back to the task and swung his ax with renewed vigor. He didn’t let up until the late afternoon shadows lengthened. He knew he must return if he hoped for Mercy to reach the ranch before dark.
He should warn her of the whiskered man, he realized now. Even her guns and rope would be useless if this man in the woods got the drop on her.
Anxious to get back, he hurried Sam onward. Again, as he’d done earlier in the day, he paused before those at the cabin noticed his presence. Immediately, he saw Mercy. It was hard to miss her. She rode her fancy palomino. The horse reared back on his hind legs as she twirled a rope around the pair of them.
Like Allie said, she made a glorious sight. The words fire and flash sprang to his mind.
Then he saw the children against the cabin wall, clapping. Allie’s eyes were bright, her color heightened. Abel’s throat clenched tight. She was overexcited. Hadn’t he warned Mercy about this?
He dropped the reins and raced to Allie to scoop her into his arms. He brushed his hand across her face, swept her hair from her forehead. Was she warmer than she should be? “Come along,” he said to Ladd, and strode toward the cabin. He put Allie on a chair. “Stay here.” He turned to Ladd. “You stay with her.” He returned outdoors.
Mercy had dismounted and led her horse toward him.
He strode toward her. His insides churned and his fists clenched at his sides. “Do you have no concern for my children? Are you interested only in an audience for your riding?” He sucked in air to refill his lungs.
She opened her mouth.
Before she could get a word out, he held his hand toward her, silencing her.
“Did you not see how excited Allie was? Did you not notice her bright cheeks?” He shook his head. “I can’t believe you could be so careless. I simply can’t allow you near my children.”
She tilted her head and gave him a hard look.
“Have it your way,” she said, her voice hard as rock. “I’m tired of explaining myself. Do you mind if I get my things?” She stalked past him without waiting for his answer.
He followed her and saw the children, wide-eyed and stiff.
Mercy knelt before them, caught their chins and pulled them to face her.
Allie, lips trembling, said, “You can’t go.”
Ladd gave his father a burning look, then shifted his attention to Mercy. “I like you here.”
“I must go. Be good.” She kissed them both on the forehead, grabbed her sack and jacket then strode from the house. She swung into her saddle and reined about. At the edge of the clearing she had the horse rear on his back legs. “Goodbye, Mr. Borgard.”
This afternoon he’d been Abel, and now Mr. Borgard. Alone again. Though why he thought it had ever changed defied explanation.
He watched until she rode out of sight before he returned to the cabin and the two children watching him with wide eyes and stubborn mouths.
“What do you want for supper?”
Tears welled up in Allie’s eyes. “Mercy said she’d make us vegetable soup. But now—” Her voice quivered. “You chased her away.”
Ladd clattered to his feet. “She wasn’t doing nothin’ wrong. You’re mad just ’cause she likes to do fun stuff.” He glowered at Abel.
Abel sighed. “You both know how careful Allie has to be. Do you want her sick again?” He directed his question to Ladd.
The boy’s anger faltered as he considered his sister. He shook his head, then faced Abel squarely. “We were only watching.”
Abel didn’t intend to argue with his son. “I have to do what I think is best.”
“Mama said you forgot how to have fun. She was right.”
Abel ignored the boy’s comment. Better to let them blame him than to realize the truth that Ruby cared more about her fun than her children. “Who wants bannock and beans?”
“I