It wasn’t like he was the only man in the world whose wife had ever left him, but he might as well have been, for the way he was feeling.
His heart was in shreds and there was nothing he could do to hide it.
He clenched his fists against his biceps as he forced a breath into his burning lungs. Tension rolled off his shoulders, leaving his neck stiff and unmovable.
He hated when people stared at him. This whole experience made him feel more like he was on a chopping block than the auction block. He wasn’t much in the mood for community events these days, especially because he was pretty sure he could guess what was going through the crowd’s minds right about now.
Poor Tanner. His wife went and left him without a word about where she’s gone. Why’d she do it? It is always hard to tell in cases like these. It could be she was at fault. Then again, maybe Tanner had somehow run her off.
Run her off?
No.
He gritted his teeth even harder to keep from shouting that one single, defensive word out loud.
No.
He might be guilty of a thousand things in his relationship with his wife—many thousands of things, if he were being honest—but not that. He hadn’t told her to leave.
He hadn’t told her anything.
Most of these folks from around here knew who the true injured party in his relationship with his wife was—and it wasn’t him. Maybe it was his pride talkin’. Maybe not. He’d had plenty of time to mull over what had gone on between them during the rough times, and even though he knew they had more than their fair share of problems and trials for a young couple, he still couldn’t imagine what could have suddenly set Rebecca off to the point where she would purposefully choose to ignore the wedding vows she’d made to him to love him for better or for worse.
Where were those vows now?
He couldn’t say. He didn’t even know where she was.
He would admit, but only to himself, that maybe what they’d been facing at the time had been worse for both of them, especially Rebecca, but he wouldn’t have run away from their problems, no matter what. When he’d said, To have and to hold, from this day forward until death do us part, he’d meant every single solitary word.
Rebecca, on the other hand? Not so much.
So they’d drifted apart in those last few months before she’d left him. That happened at some point in every marriage, right? It wasn’t all roses and sunshine all the time.
He was a simple rancher with an equally simple philosophy about how to love his God and live his life. A man dealt with whatever circumstances God gave him without complaining. Sometimes it was good, sometimes not so much. Some things a man could plan for, see the storms coming so he could batten down the hatches. Other times things came unexpectedly, or didn’t come at all. Sometimes life swung a fisted punch in a gut which was hard to recover from, and no doubt about it. But a real man had to pick himself up, dust himself off and keep on keeping on. That’s how he ran his ranch, and up until a short while ago, that’s how he’d believed he’d kept his marriage alive and stable.
Maybe not, though. If he’d paid more attention, maybe—
But a dozen maybes wouldn’t bring Rebecca back to him.
Even with all the problems between them, most especially the heartbreaking pain of them suffering through the seven months’ stillbirth of their firstborn daughter, whom they’d named Faith before they buried her in the ground, he never would have imagined Rebecca would out-and-out abandon him.
But six months ago, she had.
After they’d buried their daughter, Rebecca had spent weeks in bed, not even allowing him to open the curtains to let some sunshine in or turn on the lights. She didn’t want to have anything to do with her life anymore—or with him. He’d taken to sleeping on the couch so as not to disturb her. She took pills for anxiety and insomnia, but they didn’t really help her.
And then he’d come back in late from his ranch work one evening and she’d been gone. No note or anything. No explanation.
Just gone.
She’d disappeared to no-one-knew-where, not even her mother, and she’d only called him once since the day she’d walked out on him.
She had been reaching out to him with that one phone call, and in hindsight, he realized he should have taken the time to listen to her, to try to talk through their problems and bring her back home. But she’d caught him off guard on an evening when he was already feeling down. And when he’d picked up the telephone and heard her voice, he’d been so angry he hadn’t even let her speak. He’d understood why they called it seeing red, because that’s exactly how it felt.
And to his shame, he hadn’t let her say a word. He just hung up on her.
He didn’t know whether to be glad or sad or mad that she’d taken the hint and hadn’t attempted to reach out to him again.
Probably a mixture of all three.
In any case, he didn’t belong up here on a bachelor’s auction block. He was a man unhappily separated from his wife and he didn’t want anything to do with women. Full stop. It didn’t matter to him that every man in Serendipity, married and single alike, was offering his services for this very special auction.
Tanner just wanted to go home. Alone. To grieve in private.
If he hadn’t promised Jo Spencer, the boisterous old redhead who was both organizer and auctioneer, that he’d do his part for charity, a fund-raiser to build a local senior center recently approved by the town council, Tanner wouldn’t be here at all. He would have stayed home at his ranch where he belonged. At least out on the range with his horse and the cattle he could nurse his broken heart in peace and quiet.
Well, not exactly peace, anymore. Nor quiet, for that matter.
He no longer had that luxury.
“Uncle Tanner! Uncle Tanner!”
He looked down to the front row of the crowd to see his three-year-old niece, Mackenzie, madly giggling, bouncing up and down and waving at him, as excited about this outing as Tanner was not. Tanner’s mother-in-law, Peggy, Rebecca’s mom, was attempting without much success to corral the small girl, whose blond curls bobbed right along with the rest of her body. She had more energy in her pinky finger than Tanner had in his whole body on a good day. She also had the biggest blue eyes Tanner had ever seen—and she knew just how to use them to melt his heart.
But it wasn’t her fault none of the adults around her could get their lives together.
Mackenzie deserved his very best, so he made a gigantic effort to smile and wave back at her. Hopefully it looked like a smile and not a grimace, for the child’s sake.
Five months ago, Tanner’s sister, Lydia, had landed in jail for the second time on drug charges, leaving her daughter, Mackenzie, temporarily in Tanner’s care, as he was the only other living relative. Two major life changes in six months was two too many, but Tanner was determined to do whatever it took to protect and provide for Mackenzie. He was incredibly grateful for Peggy, who had cheerfully moved to the ranch to help with the round-the-clock care the preschooler demanded.
Peggy had never questioned Tanner’s loyalty to Rebecca, even though their relationship had come to such an abrupt ending. In Peggy’s mind—and in Tanner’s—she was still family, and always would be.
Mackenzie’s arrival in Tanner’s life was the ultimate irony. Rebecca had left him because the stress of losing their daughter was more than Rebecca had been able to handle, and she’d become withdrawn and moody, which Tanner frankly couldn’t comprehend.
For whatever reason, or maybe many reasons, she’d eventually left him altogether.
And then only a few months later, Mackenzie had entered his life.
If Rebecca had stayed, maybe she could have healed her heart by caring for the precious little girl God had brought into Tanner’s life. They would have been a family.
Rebecca’s mos
t heartfelt wish was to be a mother, and she would have been such a good mother figure for Mackenzie. She’d had so much love to give a child.
If only she were here to take on that role now. What a difference that would have made.
But she wasn’t here, leaving Tanner a single man trying his best to juggle ranch life with finding quality time with Mackenzie.
“Go, Uncle Tanner!” Mackenzie called, joyfully clapping her little hands. “Yay for Uncle Tanner!”
Tanner breathed out heavily and flashed a puppy-dog glance at Jo, hoping she might take pity on him and release him from this painful obligation, but she just smiled encouragingly and opened the bidding.
“As y’all know, Tanner here is a lifelong rancher. Need your fences repaired or your tack buffed to a shine? Tanner’s your man. Need help rounding up stray calves? You’re looking at the answer to your problem right here with this handsome fella.”
To Tanner’s surprise, within moments, folks were cheerfully tossing out bids, merrily one-upping each other to win what Tanner considered not a particularly great prize.
He should have expected this, he belatedly realized. His friends and neighbors were eager to support him throughout these tough months and this was one concrete way they could do it, showing him a little love by their high bids. Of course they felt sorry for him and Mackenzie, but it wasn’t the kind of pity that put a man down. They were trying to build him up.
He released his breath and tried to relax. This would be over in a minute. He’d worked himself into a dither for no reason. It wasn’t his fault Rebecca had left him, and everyone in town knew it. He had a new appreciation for those willing to step up for him.
He would mend fences or round up cattle for the woman who won him to the best of his ability, and then his obligation to Serendipity’s new senior center would be met.
He removed his dark brown Stetson and combed his fingers through his thick blond hair. He was overdue for a haircut. Rebecca had always trimmed it for him.
He nodded gratefully toward Bob and Janice Jones, an elderly couple near the back of the crowd who were currently the high bidders. Janice was a spunky ol’ gal and blew him a kiss, which he captured with his hand and pressed to his cheek. He grinned, his first genuine smile of the day.
Sweet old lady.
Nearby, a young woman flicked her auburn hair off her forehead with her thumb and forefinger, and then shook it out again, causing her hair to drop right back into place over her copper-penny eyes, basically undoing what she’d just accomplished.
The air around him froze, lodging firmly in Tanner’s throat. He tried to take a breath but choked on it. Coughing didn’t help. His blood turned to lead in his veins and an iron fist gripped his heart, squeezing painfully.
Rebecca.
There was no question about it.
Her hair was longer now, closer to shoulder length than chin length, as it had been the last time he’d seen her, but he knew that nervous gesture as well as he knew the beat of his own heart. He’d seen it a million times before. Whenever something was bothering her or she was deep in thought, her hand went straight to her hair.
He’d once thought it was cute the way her bangs always swept right back down to brush her high cheekbones just after she’d pushed them aside. Now the gesture only made his gut churn until he thought he might be physically sick.
Janice Jones was still waving cash in the air and staying ahead of the other bidders, but Tanner couldn’t wait for his lot to be finished. He didn’t have a moment to spare if he was going to catch up to his wife.
Even now, Rebecca had picked up her backpack and was turning away, then walking toward the far edge of the park where a few townsfolk were already picnicking. He immediately noticed her limp. One of her legs was encased in a walking boot.
When had she been hurt? How?
If he didn’t catch her now...
He shrugged an apology to Bob and Janice and bolted off the front of the platform, not even bothering to use the stairs. It was a six-foot drop to the ground and he landed hard, hitting it at a dead run.
“Pardon me. Excuse me. I’m sorry,” he muttered as he threaded his way through the gathering, ignoring the buzz of surprise he’d created by his unexpected exit. He didn’t care if he was creating drama the folks in town would gossip about for weeks.
The only thing on his mind was catching his wife.
“Rebecca,” he called as he narrowed the distance between them. “Rebecca. Please. Wait!”
She neither turned nor paused. It was almost as if she didn’t hear him.
Or else she was ignoring him, which was probably the more likely explanation. She was walking away from him again, just like the first time. But if that was the case, then...
Why was she here?
“Rebecca,” he called again, just before he reached her side. His lungs burned from the effort of running. Working on a ranch, he was in good shape, but a runner he was not.
“Rebecca,” he pleaded. “Hold up a minute.”
He grabbed hold of her elbow and turned her around, only then realizing that in addition to her leg, her wrist was in a splint. Something bad had definitely happened. Was that what she’d called him about that day? That she’d been hurt and needed his help?
And where had he been? Out on the range, nursing his own internal wounds.
Shame mixed with anger and warred deep within his chest.
But then again, he reminded himself, pressing his emotions back, none of this would have happened had she not left him in the first place.
“What’s the deal?” he demanded, his raspy voice coming in short, unsteady breaths, half because of the dash he’d made to catch up with her and half because of nerves. It had never occurred to him that she might return today of all days.
Her eyes went wide with surprise, shock and concern. She glanced down at his hold on her elbow and took a physical step backward.
“Rebecca?” Frustration pulsed through him as she jerked out of his reach and tucked her good hand underneath the one in the splint. Why was she acting as if he were about to accost her?
“I—I’m sorry, I—” Rebecca stammered. She sounded lost. Confused. Maybe even a little frightened.
Of him?
Their marriage had not ended well, but he had never, ever given her a reason to fear him. He’d barely even raised his voice when they had arguments, which were few and far between, anyway.
Sure, they sniped at each other when they were tired, just like every other married couple in the world, but they hadn’t fought much. That wasn’t their way. Instead, resentment burned under the surface of their relationship but never emerged, so they’d drifted apart. Their rainbows-and-unicorns promise to each other that they would never let the sun go down on their anger just sort of slipped away into the twilight.
Yet despite everything that had happened, and even with what felt like an uncrossable rift between them, he had still loved her with his whole heart—
Until she’d betrayed him.
She had left him, not the other way around. She was the one who needed to make the first move. To reach out. To apologize.
Their eyes met and locked and he narrowed his gaze on her. There was something peculiar in the way she was looking at him, all glassy-eyed, her pupils dilated. It was almost as if she were looking through him rather than at him, as if she didn’t recognize him.
“I am R-Rebecca.” She sounded as if she wasn’t entirely certain that was true. As if she didn’t know her own name. Her dark red eyebrows lowered, shading her gaze. “But who are you?”
“What?” he asked, his voice rising in tone and pitch. He was thoroughly flummoxed by her question. She may as well just have physically pushed him. Her words had the same effect.
She took yet another step back and raised a protective hand, laying it across her burgeon
ing midsection.
For the first time since she’d turned around to face him, Tanner’s gaze dropped to her stomach. His breath left his lungs as if he’d been sucker punched.
For a moment, his sight clouded, darkness tunneling his vision as the reality of his world tilted on its axis.
Rebecca was pregnant.
* * *
She knew her first name was Rebecca.
Rebecca Foster was the name she’d been born with and the one she remembered—even if her driver’s license said something else.
She opened her hand and read the words written in black ink on her palm.
Check notes—cell phone.
Filled with both curiosity and anxiety, she glanced at her phone.
Hamilton.
Her name was Rebecca Hamilton.
She closed her eyes for a moment and repeated the name in her mind.
Hamilton. Hamilton.
Rebecca Hamilton.
There was something vaguely familiar about the sound of the name, and the butterflies currently flittering about in her tummy had nothing to do with her growing baby, but that was as far as it went.
She couldn’t claim that name as hers. Nothing in her Swiss-cheese memory gave her that assurance.
According to the notes her best childhood friend, Dawn, had written to help her navigate her way in Serendipity, Rebecca was separated from her husband, Tanner.
Tanner.
Tanner Hamilton.
Her husband.
According to her notes, separated but not divorced.
She didn’t believe in divorce—and she strongly felt that moral principle, the same way she still believed in God. Why she knew this when she couldn’t put names to the faces of those she supposedly knew best confused her even more.
It made no sense to her that she could know some things absolutely and know absolutely nothing about others.
If she didn’t believe in divorce, then why had she left this man—Tanner Hamilton?
Shelter from the Storm Page 19