“And it will get six children out of the house,” Luke stage-whispered to Julia. He held up six fingers and mouthed, “S-I-X.”
Julia laughed. “Yeah, sure, soak up a nice day because they’re rare in March.”
Tanner kept a steady eye on the kids as they filled their plates, and they almost made it to the yard without a hitch, but Martin tripped at the edge of the stairs. He’d have tumbled headlong, but Tanner caught him before he hit the sidewalk. The paper plate, however, suffered a mortal blow. Pasta and chicken flew in multiple directions. Ripe black olives rolled down the sloping walk, and baby carrots landed in the grass.
Tanner kept his grip firm but light on the shaken boy. “You okay, Martin?”
The seven-year-old was trying not to cry. His lower lip trembled, his cheeks went tight and moisture pooled in his honey-brown eyes. He nodded, but when his gaze dropped to the far-reaching mess, one tear slipped down his pale cheek.
“If we only had a dog,” Tanner remarked. “A dog would make short work of this clean-up for us.”
Martin spun his way, surprised. “We have a dog, but he’s naughty. He’s at Grandpa’s house, in his crate because he doesn’t behave.”
Connor moved their way. “I thought he was in the crate because he needed a nap? That’s what Grandpa said.”
“You’re too little to understand everything.” Martin’s superior tone said his level of comprehension stretched far beyond that of his younger brother. “I bet Titus doesn’t have to spend every day locked in a big stupid crate. Our dog is dumb and doesn’t listen.”
“Is not!”
“Is, too.”
“Is—”
“Guys, is your dog one of the puppies your uncle Zach found a couple of years ago?”
Martin waved toward the farm pond on the northern edge of the McKinneys’ farmyard. “Right over there. They were in a sack and someone just threw them away.”
Connor confirmed that with a nod, eyes wide. “Reverend Smith has one of the puppies, we have one and two other people took puppies, but Spike runs around a lot. And he kind of likes to chew things he’s not a’sposed to.”
Tanner stooped to their level, ignoring the mess around them for just a moment. “So Spike and Titus are brothers?”
“Yes.”
“And brothers are always exactly alike, right? Like you two.”
Martin stared at him, and then at Connor. “Except I like to read and play by myself and Connor likes to mess everything up and do ‘Earth-shake’ and then doesn’t want to clean things up when he’s done.”
“So, you’re different.”
Connor nodded. “A lot.”
Martin shrugged. “Yeah. I guess.”
“Titus and Spike are different, too,” Tanner explained. “Just because they’re littermates doesn’t mean they’re going to act alike or do the same things or even grow up the same way. Do you think Reverend Smith gets down on the floor and wrestles with Titus?”
Connor burst out laughing. “I don’t think he’d do that ever!”
Martin answered quietly, “He probably just sits and pets him. And takes him for walks.”
“You guys have a big fenced yard so Spike can run free whenever he wants,” Tanner continued. “Reverend Smith has a small rectory yard and a big cemetery behind him, so Titus can’t jump and play all the time. His family life is different.”
“So Spike isn’t dumb?” The hopeful note in Connor’s voice made Martin roll his eyes, but when Tanner answered, Martin’s expression softened.
“No, not at all. He’s different, just like you and your brother are different. He’ll settle down after a while, and turn into a nice dog, but it’s kind of cool for Spike to have two big strong guys to play with and take care of him.”
Connor gulped, guilty. “Mom does most of that, actually.”
“She does, but she’d love more help.” Julia stepped through the door behind them, and the look of gratitude she shot Tanner said his explanation had been overheard.
He moved to give her room to come down the steps. She bent closer to Martin as she handed him a fresh plate of food. “Go eat with your cousins. We’ll clean up this mess.”
“You sure?” He looked up at her, and while he didn’t look like Julia, Tanner sensed he had that same anxious-to-please personality. “I don’t mind helping, Mom.”
“I appreciate that, but Tanner’s right. If Spike was here, he’d have cleaned all of this up already. As it is, I’ve got a broom and I’m not afraid to use it.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Martin flashed her a grin, grabbed the new plate with two hands and rushed to the picnic table set in the middle of the sun-soaked yard.
Connor turned to go, but then he turned right back and gazed up at Tanner. “You should come to our house and play with Spike. I think he would like you a whole lot, Mr. Tanner.”
“That’s a great idea, Connor. I like playing with dogs.”
“Do you have a dog?”
Tanner shook his head. “Nope.”
“Do you have a little boy like me?”
Tanner’s heart chugged to a slow, painful stop, but after taking a deep breath, he stooped low again. “I don’t. But I would be very proud to have a little boy like you or Martin. Go eat. I’ll come to your house and play with Spike sometime soon, okay?”
“Okay!” Connor dashed off, then waved from the table, as if almost too excited about Tanner’s visit to worry about something as mundane as food.
“You’ve gone and done it now.” Julia handed him the dustpan while she swept as much of the food as she could into the plastic base. “He won’t let you forget that you promised to come play.”
“I don’t want to forget it, just so we’re clear.”
She slanted him a look of doubt. “I’m a single mother, Tanner, and that means I keep my risk level with the boys aimed straight at the ‘nonexistent’ setting.”
“Less excitement that way.”
“And less cause for regret.” She reached for the dustpan while he reached for the broom.
He took the broom and kept the dustpan and walked around the sidewalk to the garbage tote in the garage, hoping she’d follow.
She did. “I could have done this.”
“I know that, Miss Independence.” He smiled down at her once he’d disposed of the fallen food. “And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I kind of like that independent streak and that surprises me a little.”
“Welcome to the new millennium, Tanner.”
He laughed, set the broom and dustpan inside the garage and slung an arm around her shoulders. “It’s not that. I love the idea of women being self-sufficient and earning money and having careers. But not too many women I know can raise kids, operate a power saw, deliver babies, write grants and look this good.” He smiled down at her, and when she smiled back, all he wanted to do was lean in and kiss her. Just to see if kissing Julia would be as wonderful as he thought it would be.
“Are you going to kiss my mom?”
Shrieks of laughter followed Connor’s loud question, so Tanner ducked his head, swept a sweet, quick kiss to Julia’s very surprised mouth and turned to the tableful of children. “It appears so.”
Giggles, laughs and a chorus of “eews” filled the air.
Julia ducked her head, muttering to Tanner, “You’re a troublemaker. You’re going to get all the little bees and a few big bees buzzing. And I’ve got no time to deal with cute state troopers with chips on their shoulders.”
Her smile softened the warning, and the thought of kissing her again, without an audience, made Tanner take a half step forward. “Cute? You think I’m cute?” He gave her a lopsided grin. “And what if the chip on my shoulder managed to disappear? What then, Julia?” He whispered the last, then gave her hand a private l
ittle squeeze. He walked over to the table full of loud, goofy kids and sat down in the middle of them.
He’d spent so much time avoiding life, that to be suddenly plunked into the middle of the huge, sprawling clan felt almost good and normal. Like he was living and breathing on his own again.
He looked back toward Julia.
She looked intrigued, perplexed and possibly smitten. A beautiful woman, surrounded by love, life and laughter. This was the dream he’d longed for years ago, the dream he’d lost.
Could he find it again? Did he dare?
“Hey, Tanner! Do you like seafood?”
He scolded Dorrie with a quick look. “If your mother sees you chewing with your mouth open, she’s not going to be happy. And besides.” He ruffled her hair. “That’s the oldest joke in the book, kid. Get some new material, will ya’?”
Dorrie laughed. Sonya sent a shy smile his way, a softened mirror image of her more boisterous sister. Aiden and Martin were deep in conversation about some new kind of remote control airplane club starting up on the west shore, and Connor was stuffing pasta into a napkin and trying to hide it in his lap. Tanner leaned his way. “You don’t like the pasta?”
“I love it.” Excitement marked his face. “It’s one of my most favorites.”
“Then why hide it?” Tanner tipped a finger to the rolled napkin on Connor’s lap.
“For Beansy,” Connor whispered. “I like to take Beansy and Miss Daisy treats. Maybe Miss Daisy will have her babies today, and she’ll need all the energy she can get because Mom says having babies is real hard work.”
“It is.” Tanner put his mouth to Connor’s left ear and kept his voice soft. “Shall we go check on Beansy and Miss Daisy when you’re done? Together?”
“Oh, yes!” Connor turned, knocked Tanner in the chin with a fairly bony head for such a little kid, then stopped, chagrined. “I didn’t mean to hit you, Mr. Tanner! Here, let me rub it for you. Rubbing it makes it better.” Connor proceeded to rub Tanner’s cheek with sticky, greasy, little boy fingers, and his intense expression said he truly wanted to help ease his friend’s pain.
Another rusty knot fell loose from Tanner’s heart. The boy’s quick care said Connor had a gentle heart despite his rambunctious nature.
“Is it better now?”
Anxious blue eyes peered up at him. Tanner nodded and gave Connor a quick hug. “So much better.”
“Good!” Connor waited until the other kids were done with their food. Once they were taking their plates back inside, he slid off the end of the picnic table bench. “If we go now, we can give them their treat and be back in no time.”
“Shouldn’t we tell Mom?”
“If we do, then all the kids will want to come and Mom said it’s not good for Miss Daisy to get too excited right now, that she needs some peace and quiet.” He looked worried that too many kids would spoil the adventure.
Tanner nodded in agreement. “Sound advice.”
“And as long as I’m with a grown-up, we’re okay.”
Tanner was pretty sure a mom would want to know where her kid was even if it was with another grown-up, so he texted Julia a quick message and took Connor’s hand. “Lead the way, bud.”
“I will!”
They strode across the backyard, cut through a small field and then walked over the small bridge Zach and Marty erected over a drainage ditch that separated the original McKinney Farm from Zach’s property.
“Here’s where they live!” Connor crept forward on tiptoe feet, watching. Peering.
Beansy came to the edge of his pen quickly, begging. Connor slipped the Nigerian dwarf goat a treat, then moved to the other pen, set against the barn’s edge, about fifteen feet away. He looked inside, and frowned. “She’s not here. But it’s a nice, sunny day and she likes to be outside on nice, sunny days, Mr. Tanner.”
“Shall we check inside the barn?” The goats had a small hatch cut into the barn wall, so they could move inside during rough weather spells. The minute he and Connor got into the barn, Tanner sensed trouble. The little doe wasn’t curled up, lazily awaiting picture-perfect childbirth. She was pacing the small pen, mounding fresh straw, then straining with all her might, but nothing came of her ardent endeavors.
“Is she okay?”
“I’m sure she is.” He wasn’t at all sure, so he pulled out his cell phone and hit Julia’s number. “I need you and Piper to assess the situation in the barn ASAP, okay?”
Her return tone said she heard what he didn’t dare say in front of Connor. “We’ll be right there.”
“Is something wrong?” Connor gripped Tanner’s hand, gripped it tight as minutes ticked by. “Is Miss Daisy in trouble?”
He didn’t know. He couldn’t tell if she was in trouble or if he was simply overreacting to a perfectly normal situation. How would he know? He’d never had the experience of seeing a child born, or a goat or even a puppy for that matter. He hunched low, but couldn’t stop the anxiety welling up inside him. “I’m not sure what’s normal for goats having babies, so I called Mom and Aunt Piper. They should be right here.”
The two women came in through the barn door together. Julia had ditched the dress and donned someone’s sweats. Their breathing said they’d run across the field, and as they approached the doe’s pen, Miss Daisy labored through another contraction. Tanner couldn’t bear to look into the doe’s eyes, the worry and stress of what might happen reflected in the ‘help me’ expression on the animal’s face.
“Julia, I’ve got my birthing kit right there.”
Julia pulled down a wrapped parcel from a shelf above the pen. She opened the bundle and knelt in the straw alongside Piper. “Coach me as needed.”
“Will do.” Piper examined the goat and frowned. “We’ve got one crosswise, blocking the birth canal.”
“Can you shift it?”
“Hopefully.”
Hopefully? Tanner’s heart started beating harder in his chest. What did she mean, hopefully? If she couldn’t do the job, shouldn’t they call the vet? And should he stay there with Connor or take the kid away? “Should we go?” He asked the question softly, not wanting to cause the stressed animal any further duress, but at that moment, Miss Daisy appeared more interested in Piper’s help than the presence of a stranger.
“I want to stay.” Connor’s tone and expression implored. “Miss Daisy loves me and she knows I love her. Mom, can I stay, please?”
Julia kept her eyes on Piper’s intervention as she answered. “Connor, we talked about this, remember? That sometimes everything goes fine when a baby animal is born, but sometimes it doesn’t.”
“But we’ll do our best, won’t we?” His voice was soft, but the end of the question pitched up significantly.
“We always do,” Julia assured him.
Her words stabbed Tanner in the gut. Maybe Julia always did her best, and maybe midwives were good at their jobs, but when things got dicey, shouldn’t they call for help? Like now? “Should we call the vet?” He pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket. “We can get Miss Daisy to the clinic in ten minutes.”
Piper shook her head. “No time for that. If I can just get hold of this baby’s head—”
Tanner couldn’t listen to any more. He let go of Connor’s hand and strode out of the barn, across the yard and to his car.
His heart rate soared. His gut clenched. His breathing accelerated, and he was pretty sure he was on the verge of a full-fledged panic attack.
Nerves tightened his belly, and he was glad he hadn’t taken time to eat. He got into his car, backed out of the driveway, and drove as far and fast as he could before he had to pull off to the side of the road and get sick.
The sight of Piper, sprawled on the barn floor, trying to help the laboring animal, had hit him square between the eyes. Why didn’t she c
all the vet at the first sign of trouble? Why did untrained people think they could save the day when there were trained professionals nearby?
He sank to the ground next to his car, trying to rein in his emotions. The image of an unskilled farmer trying to save a few dollars while the animal suffered made him physically ill and just plain angry.
His cell phone buzzed.
He ignored it.
It buzzed again a few minutes later. He pulled it out, saw it was a text from Julia, and read the message. You okay?
He wasn’t okay, none of this was okay, and he couldn’t stand there and pretend it was all right to let people play doctor.
He didn’t answer, he didn’t have the strength to answer, but a minute later, a picture came through, a picture that made him stop and stare at the small screen.
Connor and Piper flanking the back of Miss Daisy’s pen, and beside Miss Daisy were three pretty little kids, two brown-and-white baby does and one black-and-white-spotted fellow.
And her caption?
Success! Two doelings and a little buck, adorable and all okay! Thanks for calling us in, you saved their lives!
Emotions swamped him.
He saved their lives by making a phone call?
And then you ran away.
He sighed, leaned his back against the solid support of his car and replayed the past thirty minutes in his head.
He’d taken off in a time of trouble. He’d run scared by the probable outcome, and he’d been 100 percent wrong. What kind of person did that? What kind of cop did that?
Clouds moved in, stealing the transient warmth of the late winter sun, and with the clouds came a brisk, chill wind, the kind that said winter hadn’t finished with them yet.
He stayed huddled against the car, getting cold, unsure what to do, but then Connor’s words came back to him, from the day they first met. Every day I pray and pray for these babies, and she hasn’t had them yet.
Something moved inside him. Something cold and hard and unyielding came loose when he pictured the boy’s earnestness. The wind came stronger, a steady push of bone-chilling air, and still he sat, staring up into the heavens. “You want me to pray? Is that it? I should look up and assume You’re there, listening? Because I don’t believe it. I don’t think I even want to believe it because I know how unlikely it is. I’m not stupid.”
Healing the Lawman's Heart Page 9