as the boys.
They called goodbye to Linette and headed down the hill.
Thor, the tame fawn, saw the children and bounced over to join them, eliciting squeals of laughter from Allie.
Mercy stopped to let them enjoy the antics of the rapidly growing deer before they moved on. Soon Thor would disappear in the woods to join other deer, but she wouldn’t inform the children of that fact. Let them enjoy the pet while they could.
Thor bounced away in search of amusement elsewhere and Mercy shepherded the children onward.
She had them sit against the barn and showed them how to swing the rope overhead. How to drop it over a fence post. How to spin a circle of rope just above the ground and jump in and out of it. “I have lots more to learn,” she said.
“But you’re pretty good,” Allie said.
Ladd bounced to his feet. “You said you’d show me how to make the horse bow.”
It wasn’t exactly what she’d said but close enough. She’d spent a few days getting Nugget to follow the offer of a carrot until his head almost reached the ground. Then she’d taught him to pull one leg back and put the other forward. He was getting good at bowing. She figured he’d perform for Ladd and handed a carrot to the boy. “Stand here. Show him the carrot then lower it toward the ground. He’ll do the rest because he knows what to expect.” Nugget performed perfectly. “Now give him the carrot.”
Ladd held the carrot out but drew back as the horse tried to take it.
Mercy guided his hand so Nugget got his treat.
“What else can I make him do?” Ladd asked.
“Before I show you, maybe Grady and Allie would like to do a trick.” She held a hand toward the pair.
Grady jumped forward. “Can I get him to bow, too?”
“You sure can.” She repeated the trick with Grady and helped the boy feed Nugget his treat.
Allie stood nearby, rocking back and forth in anticipation. “Can I do something different?”
“What would you like to do?”
“Me and Ladd saw you standing on his back. Can I do that?”
Mercy considered the request. Nugget was still saddled and he wouldn’t protest, and if she held Allie, she could see no problem. The child would be perfectly safe. “I don’t see why not. Come on, I’ll show you how.”
She lifted the featherlight child to the saddle, placing her feet so she balanced then held her hand as she straightened. “There you go. What do you think?”
Allie giggled. “I’m a bird.” She held out her free arm.
A man came out of nowhere direct to Mercy’s side. Although alarmed at the sudden appearance, she held Allie firmly.
He lifted Allie from the horse and stepped back. “How dare you put my child at risk?”
“You! Mr. Abel Borgard, I presume. Haven’t we met before?” She didn’t much care for the dark expression on his face.
“And you would be...? Just so I know to avoid you in the future.”
“Mercy Newell. So pleased to make your acquaintance.” But her sarcasm was wasted on him.
“Papa,” Allie patted his cheek to get his attention.
“Yes, baby.”
Baby! This child was no baby. Why did he call her that? Worse, why did he treat her like an infant?
“It was fun,” Allie said. “And she held my hand really tight.”
“It was exceedingly foolish. Ladd, didn’t you think to say something?”
Ladd faced his father without a hint of fear. Or remorse. “Miss Mercy held her real good. She is smart about horses and—”
“Children are different than horses, Miss Mercy. Mrs. Gardiner knows I’ve come for the children. I’m taking them home.” He still carried Allie in one arm and took Ladd by his free hand. “Where they’ll be safe.” He hurried away.
Ladd and Allie sent Mercy pleading looks. She couldn’t say if they were silently apologetic or simply regretting that their enjoyment had been cut short. Regardless, something about their silent appeals released her own caution and she trotted after them, reaching Abel’s side before he made it to his horse. She grabbed his shoulder and forced him to stop.
“Sir, you are mistaken if you think I was about to let something happen to your children. I was only allowing them a bit of harmless fun. Everyone should be allowed to enjoy life and not shoved into a corner.”
He put Allie down and released Ladd. “You two go wait by the horse.”
They scampered away and stood watching the two adults.
Abel turned his back to the children. “Miss Newell, whether or not you agree with my choices on my children’s behalf is immaterial to me. But Allie has been very ill. Her heart has been damaged and the doctor says she must not get overly excited, nor can she be allowed to overexert herself. It could have very bad consequences.”
There was no mistaking the agony in his voice as he spoke those words and then he strode away, swung to the back of his horse and lifted the children, Ladd behind him, Allie sheltered in his arms.
How was she to have known about Allie? The last thing she would ever do was put a child at risk.
Abel reined his horse about. He was about to leave. She couldn’t let him go without trying to explain.
“Wait.” She raced to the head of the horse, forcing Abel to pull up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. But believe me, I would never put a child in danger.”
Abel studied her a moment. Then he shifted his gaze to Allie. He cupped her head then reached back and pulled Ladd closer. He lifted his gaze to Mercy.
“So you say. But it is immaterial to me. My one and only concern is my children.”
She fell back, struck by the depth of emotion in his eyes.
“Whatever foolish thing you choose to do with your time is your business.” He rode away. Ladd lifted a hand in a wave.
Mercy stared after them, her insides churning. She knew the look in Abel’s eyes. Not because she remembered ever seeing it but because she had longed for it all her life. Instead, all she’d ever seen was indifference. Seems Butler was the only child who had mattered to her parents and when he died, Mercy became a necessary nuisance. She could never do enough to get them to acknowledge her. No matter how absurd her behavior.
She shook off the feeling.
She’d hoped she’d found the acceptance she longed for when, at seventeen, she fell in love with Ambrose, the preacher’s son. They’d enjoyed many adventures together. But after their romantic summer—oh, how mistaken she’d been about that—he’d introduced her to a sweet, young thing he identified as his fiancée. When Mercy confronted him, he said he couldn’t live with a person like her who longed for adventure. A man wanted to come home to peace and quiet, not restlessness. Mercy realized then that men, in general, preferred a woman to be invisible in her husband’s shadow. Mercy could never be that.
The circle of her thoughts widened. Wasn’t the Wild West show exactly the kind of thing she’d wanted since she was sixteen years old and watching Cleopatra’s Needle unveiling in London? They’d buried a time capsule beneath it that included pictures of the twelve most beautiful women. That struck her as unfair. What if a woman was born ugly? Was she to be ignored? What if she was beautiful but no one noticed? No, a person had to be able to do something to earn notice and value.
She would do something. She would join a Wild West show and perform for others. The audience would appreciate her skills. It didn’t matter what Mr. Abel Borgard thought.