by Bridget Lang
“I think she’s a lovely lady. Smart, beautiful, she’s a born mother. Don’t know what she was doin’ on something like a mail order service – but I think you should be thanking your lucky stars.”
Tanner turned in surprise. Josiah was one of the most taciturn people he’d ever met; it was rare for him to be so vocal about his opinions.
“Don’t you think the whole things a bit weird?” Tanner insisted.
Josiah looked to the sky, and then spat out a stream of tobacco.
“Sure. It’s a bit weird. Seen weirder.” He eyed Tanner briefly, and then got back to work. The conversation, from Josiah’s perspective, was closed.
Tanner eventually refocused on the task at hand, trying to push the woman out of his mind. He would deal with it tonight.
Heather laughed as Chloe accidently soaked them both at the out building sink. They were washing paintbrushes, after spending all afternoon paining a mural in Chloe’s room, one that depicted all Noah’s animals marching in two-by-two. They’d spoken a lot about Chloe’s school, her friends and Josiah and Wesley. Heather could see the girl had a soft spot for the younger boy, and she recalled her own early crushes. For Heather they’d mostly been painful and awkward – the boys she liked, the big football jocks who had fast cars and smart mouths, always inevitably preferred her sister, and Heather had no choice but to moon from afar, writing gibberish in her diaries and wistfully dreaming of the day that she’d be popular and adored. It sounded like Chloe was fairing far better than she ever did, and Heather was inordinately glad for it. All in all, the day had been perfect, Heather couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so content and at ease.
The only blight on her day, she reflected, had been the noticeable absence of Tanner. She had known that he’d seen her that morning as she was making breakfast; she’s felt his presence behind her and caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye, as he was vanishing out of the room.
Heather couldn’t understand if he was simply rude, or had taken one look at her and decided that she wasn’t the right woman for him. She had kept trying to push the question to the back of her mind all day, and focus on being with Chloe. But it was hard, being in someone’s home when they clearly didn’t want you there.
She and Chloe walked toward the house, they both needed showers – Chloe was pretty much covered in paint from top to bottom, she’d even managed to get it on her earlobe, somehow.
Heather took in the Wyoming landscape, admiring the majestic mountains in the distance. She took in a breath of fresh air, savoring its sweetness and the scent of fresh pine. She decided in that moment to make the best of things. She would cook for Chloe and Tanner tonight, if he showed up, and try to be the perfect guest. She was here, the house and the surrounding area were impossibly beautiful, and she loved spending time with Chloe. She didn’t want to waste that. She would do her best to enjoy the last remaining days here, and not waste a second moping or wondering about Tanner’s feelings.
“Hi.” A voice came from behind her, startling her out of her reverie. She turned, and came face to face with Tanner Holt.
She stared at him, taken aback by his broad frame. He towered above her, blocking out the last of the sunlight, tall and as imposing as the mountains behind him. Studying him, she observed how his hair was lighter than in the picture he’d sent, but his eyes were so dark they were almost black. His gaze was direct and unflinching, unnerving Heather.
“Hi,” was all she could reply in return. Her brain felt like it had been scrambled, she wanted Tanner to look away so she could recalibrate, but he stayed still, watching her. Waiting.
“I’m Heather. The woman you sent for, from the agency.” She looked around for Chloe, but she had completely vanished. Great.
Tanner nodded. “Thanks for coming.” His voice was low and deep, his words unhurried. Heather found herself hypnotized – by his voice, his gaze, his presence. There was something about the man that drew her in completely, something aside from his undeniably heavenly looks, which seemed to be based on a deeper connection – though rationally Heather knew that to be impossible, the man was a stranger. Then how, she wondered, did he seem to make the rest of the world melt away?
“I was going to cook. For you and Chloe, I mean. Is there anything you’d like, this evening?” Heather stumbled over her words – her voice sounded overly high pitched and jumbled, and she winced slightly, embarrassed by her gauche behavior.
“Anything you make would be great – I’m not much of a cook.” Tanner stated.
“Oh, yes – you said so, in your letter,” Heather smiled at him, glad to be reminded of it, when Tanner seemed to be such a stranger.
“I did?” He questioned, looking baffled.
“Yes. That and hair braiding.”
“Right. Of course.” He seemed to smile to himself at a private joke, and then turned back to her. “Well, I’m looking forward to it. No doubt Chloe will be too.” He gestured for her to continue inside, and she did so, feeling uncomfortable to be leading the way.
Chapter ten
“Dad’s having shower, can I use yours?” Chloe peeked her head around the door of Heather’s room. Heather already had the shower warming up, and was trying to find a towel in the linen closet.
“Of course you can – run in.” She let the girl go ahead, handing her the towel. Heather sat on the bed, waiting for her turn. She ran through the ingredients she could recall in the fridge, planning the meal tonight. She wanted to impress Tanner with her culinary skills, and make herself useful.
She wandered out into the hallway. Heather could hear that the main bathroom shower was no longer running, and decided she’d use that one instead, to get a head start on the dinner.
She walked toward the door just as Tanner was exiting. His torso was still dripping wet, and he had a towel slung around his waist. Heather was momentarily stunned, and stared for a few seconds too long before blushing furiously and looking away.
“Oh God – I’m so sorry. Chloe’s in my shower.” Heather blurted out.
Tanner ducked his head sheepishly, “my fault – I forgot we had a guest.” She should have moved away, but she stood transfixed in her embarrassment. They stood awkwardly in the hallway, till Tanner cleared his throat.
“Um, it’s all yours.” He said, and moved toward his room.
“Yes, thank you. Sorry again.” Heather rushed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
She closed her eyes as soon as she was in there, mentally kicking herself for behaving so strangely. But she couldn’t help the small smile twitch at the corner of her lips as she recalled Tanner’s chest rippling with muscles, and a smattering of light brown hair. She could feel the heat flaring up in her face again; she was blushing just at the recollection.
In the shower, Heather rejoiced at the hot water restoring her to sanity. After Tanner’s behavior this morning, he clearly wasn’t interested in her physically, and so she needed to get any lustful thoughts out of her head.
Before breaking up, Bertram had barely even kissed her in months and months. There was an occasional advance on his part – always when he was exceedingly drunk. Heather eventually had to admit that he just wasn’t attracted to her unless he’d consumed vast quantities of liquor.
She never wanted to feel like that again, she’d rather remain celibate for the rest of her life with a companion, than be with a man who had to force himself to be intimate with her.
Heather had made fried chicken, biscuits and mash potato, southern style. Before Heather’s mother had passed away, it had been a Saturday treat that she’d always made for her family– and it was the one recipe Heather thought she could probably make with her eyes closed.
“That was amazing.” Tanner declared, leaning back in his chair. He gazed directly at Heather, giving her a slow, appreciative smile. She blushed in return and looked down at her plate, she’d hardly been able to eat a thing.
“Teach me to make it, please Heather –
will you?” asked Chloe. She’d finished her food long before Tanner, and was proceeding to lick the crumbs off the plate with her finger.
“Manners, Chloe” interrupted Tanner, pointedly looking at her plate.
“Sorry.” Chloe glanced mischievously at Heather.
“Of course I will, honey.” Heather smiled at her; pleased her food had been appreciated by the both of them.
“I think it’s time for a movie and maybe we can show Heather how we make our world-famous Holt popcorn?” Tanner got up from the table as Chloe squealed in excitement. He picked up the plates, ignoring Heather’s protests that she’d clear up.
“Okay, fine – I’m looking forward to this popcorn though, can I help with that?” asked Heather.
“Yes! Of course she can, can’t she dad?” Chloe tugged on her dad’s shirtsleeve as he placed the dishes in the machine.
“I was kind of hoping that Heather could just enjoy being waited on for once – I think you’ve been running her ragged, Chloe.”
Heather laughed, “not at all. She’s been a delight today.” Heather met Tanner’s eyes this time, their dark brown warmth making her stomach somersault. She suddenly felt like the kitchen was too small, and she was too close to Tanner’s large frame.
“Chloe, why don’t you show me how to get the movies on and we can pick one of your favorites?” Heather re-focused her attentions on Chloe who was only too happy to take her through to the living room, listing a host of princess-themed Hollywood blockbusters.
Tanner came in a few minutes later with fresh popcorn, and began to get a fire going. There was one sofa and an armchair in the room, but only the sofa faced the screen. Chloe insisted that they all sat down on it, and placed herself in the middle, popcorn balanced precariously on her lap.
They watched The Princess Diaries in complete silence, apart from Chloe joining in with some of her favorite phrases.
Heather couldn’t concentrate. She kept glancing over at Tanner’s profile, lit up by the light of the screen. She couldn’t help but notice his hard jaw line, and how full his lips were. He didn’t touch the popcorn, and kept his gaze fully trained on the screen, not moving a muscle. Every now and then his jaw would twitch slightly, as if he were angry or annoyed about something, but as he had been perfectly polite to her all evening, Heather just put it down to boredom, rather than irritation at her presence.
As the credits rolled, Tanner stood up abruptly.
“It’s bedtime for you, kiddo.” He announced, picking up a drowsy Chloe and placing her small frame over his shoulder. She murmured a reluctant agreement, but then called for Heather.
“I want Heather to put me to bed, dad.” She yawned loudly, and he laughed.
“Are you trying to make me jealous? I’m taking you – let your old dad get some time with you.” He rolled his eyes at Heather and she smiled in response.
Once they were gone, and Heather had said her goodnights to Chloe, she went about clearing up the room and the half-spilled popcorn that lay scattered about the floor.
“Dad?”
Tanner had been about to walk out of the room and turn Chloe’s light off, but he returned at her call.
“What is it, pumpkin?”
“I don’t want you to send Heather away. I want her to stay.” Her voice sounded small, half lost in drowsiness and duvet.
Tanner sighed and came and sat on the end of her bed, “I don’t know, honey. She might not want to stay. We still haven’t talked about why you did this – and you know you’re still in trouble, right?” Tanner reprimanded her gently.
“Yeah I know, but dad – I love her. You will too. And,” she yawned loudly, “I need a mom. You’re the best dad in the world – but you don’t know about stuff, like my hair, and I’m going to get periods soon because loads of girls in my grade already have them, and you don’t know about those – that’s girl stuff. I won’t know what to do if I don’t have Heather.”
Tanner’s heart ached. He had no idea that Chloe was worried about these things yet, he assumed it would be a while before the subject of puberty came up. He was so unprepared. For Chloe to carry that around on her shoulders, that was too much. He berated himself for not realizing any of this sooner. He’d let his daughter become so anxious about it that she’d taken it upon herself to send off for a mom. He hated himself for that.
Years ago he’d sworn to her mother that he’d protect her child; look after her as his own. He’d tried every day to keep that promise, and loved Chloe with all of his heart – but he’d let her struggle through these feelings on her own. He was ashamed.
“Chloe, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize, I didn’t think…” He looked down at his daughter, she was already fast asleep. He cursed quietly to himself and walked out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
Chapter eleven
“Heather, we should talk.” Tanner stood in the doorway to the living room, just as she was on her hands and knees clearing away the last of the popcorn. She hurriedly moved to a more dignified position up on the edge of the sofa.
Tanner sat down on the armchair, keeping a physical distance between the two of them. He ran a hand through his hair in agitation.
“You need to know, I didn’t – well, I wasn’t exactly the one that…invited you here.” Tanner finished his sentence lamely.
“What do you mean?” Heather folded her arms across her chest.
“Well. I didn’t send off the application form, it was Chloe.” Tanner bit out the words and then raised his eyes to meet hers. “I actually had no idea about any of this until you were already here.” He forced a half smile, hoping she’d see the funny side of the situation.
Heather’s heart sank. Quickly replaced by the heat of utter shame and humiliation spreading across her body.
“Oh my goodness, what must you have thought of me?” Her arms clenched tighter, hugging herself as if she could make herself so small she might disappear.
“No – please. It’s not like that, Heather. I’m sorry to have…” Tanner hesitated trying to find the right words, “inconvenienced you.”
“The letter, then – that wasn’t you at all, was it?” She’d been such an idiot.
“Letter? No. That was Chloe, I haven’t actually seen that letter.”
Heather closed her eyes, as if she could block out the reality of her current situation. She’d made a complete fool out of herself in front of a man who was not only a complete stranger who had no idea who she was, but also a complete stranger that she was developing inappropriate feelings for.
“I’ll leave tonight, I’m so sorry about this.” Heather looked down at the carpet, desperately wanting to flee from the room.
“No!” Tanner burst out, then amended more quietly, “no – please don’t go. Chloe would be heartbroken to find you gone. I was thinking that maybe, maybe we could give this a try.” He paused, waiting for Heather to respond. He was met by complete silence, so he continued, “for Chloe’s sake. Maybe it’s not such a bad idea?”
Heather was stung by his words. On the one hand it was a relief that she wouldn’t have to leave without saying goodbye to Chloe, but it was also utterly gut-wrenching to realize that Tanner was clearly so unattracted to her, with no romantic intentions whatsoever. The sentiment she’d been flattered by in the letter, had read over and over again, had pinned her wild dreams on, had been written by a ten-year old girl.
“I need some time to think, I’m not…I’m not sure about this, Tanner.” Heather looked desolate. He’d seen her face crumple at his revelation, and he wanted to find some way to comfort her - but had no idea what to do without scaring her off with the intensity of his real feelings, feelings that even he found bizarre and strange. Better to keep her at a distance, at least for now.
“I understand. Please think about it though. Both Chloe and I would love to have you stay with us.” Tanner cursed himself privately, why did he have to sound so wooden?
Heather stood up; she smiled at
him, tightly and briefly. There seemed to be nothing more to say. He was a nice man. He was being polite, and perhaps he was right. Maybe it could work – maybe she could stay, looking after Chloe, living here amongst the fresh air and wild land of Jackson. There would be a freedom in that for her; away from the mayhem of New York, far away from the empty shell of a life she’d lived before, the cloying world of Bertram and AyerCooke.
“Heather, wait.” Tanner moved to block the doorway. “I’m saying this all wrong.” He reached out his hand, placing it on her upper arm. He held her that way, at a distance, while she kept her eyes on his chest. She didn’t dare look up, and risk him seeing the disappointment and defeat in her eyes.
Tanner hadn’t anticipated the reaction he would feel when touching her. His nerves went haywire; energy pulsed through him, hot and urgent. His senses focused sharply in on her, and he became hyper-aware of her soft lips and their cupid bow curve at the top; the light smattering of freckles that danced about her nose and cheekbones; the thick curve of her eyebrows, and the lustrous waves of hair that fell down her back and around her shoulders.
“Heather, look at me.” His voice came out hoarse and broken. It was his tone, not his command, which made Heather look up. She met his brown eyes, noticing for the first time the golden flecks around the iris and their look of burning intensity, so at odds with what he’d been saying a moment ago.
Tanner lowered his head down to meet hers. She drew back by an inch, confused as to what he was doing. The hesitancy on her part should have been enough to stop Tanner, to bring him back to reality, but despite the confusion in Heather’s eyes, he saw his own feelings reciprocated. He broke the space between them, pressing his lips sweetly onto hers.
Heather broke the kiss first, taking a step backward. He let her, dropping his hand from her arm. They stayed like that for a heartbeat, neither of them breathing.