Healing the Widower's Heart

by Susan Anne Mason

  The paddle splashed the surface of the water, sending a spray of moisture over them. “Talking about what?”

  She exhaled slowly. “About your mom and your relationship with your dad. I noticed you don’t seem to be getting along too well.”

  Zach fumbled and nearly dropped the paddle over the side. Paige reached out to steady it.

  The boy’s eyes glinted with anger. “I don’t want to talk about that stuff.”

  Paige dipped her paddle into the water, grateful the Wyndermere dock was now in sight. “I understand it’s difficult. We’ll take it really slow, a little at a time, until you feel more comfortable.”

  With a grunt, Zach lurched to his feet and heaved his paddle out into the lake. The canoe shuddered with the sudden movement, and before Paige could counter the momentum, the boat flipped, sending her tumbling into the water.

  * * *

  What was Zach doing standing in the canoe? From his position at the end of the dock, Nathan watched in horror as Zach teetered, waving his arms in a futile attempt to regain his balance, and then plunged into the water with a large splash. The boat quickly followed suit, upending Paige and the equipment into the lake.

  Nathan checked the strong urge to dive into the water and rescue them, realizing that this was part of the woman’s job. Surely it wasn’t the first time a camper had capsized a canoe.

  In seconds, her dripping head broke the surface. Nathan was gratified to see that she swam directly to Zach and made sure he was all right, before righting the canoe and salvaging the paddles and a flotation device. She helped Zach back into the craft and then swam beside it, effectively towing them until her feet reached the bottom and she could stand.

  From the angry scowl on Zach’s face, Nathan surmised the outing had not gone well. Paige headed to the beach. Nathan made his way down from the dock to help her drag the canoe onto the sand. She pushed wet strands of hair off her forehead, avoiding his eyes.

  “What happened out there?” Nathan asked, lending Zach a hand to climb out. His son’s clothes were drenched and his cap was missing.

  “Nothing.” Zach pushed away from him as soon as his feet hit the sand, and he trudged up the beach, leaving wet footprints in his wake.

  “Not nothing.” Paige’s head snapped up and she took off after Zach. “Wait a minute, Zach.”

  He kept going. Nathan followed, a feeling of dread dogging his footsteps.

  Paige ran in front of Zach and put a hand on his shoulder, her mouth turned down. “That was a very foolish thing to do. You could have been badly hurt if that canoe had landed on you.”

  Zach wrenched his arm away, glaring.

  Nathan held back a groan of frustration. Camp hadn’t even begun and already Zach had alienated the director. “What did Zach do?”

  Paige straightened and looked at Nathan. “He stood up and caused the boat to tip. A common mistake made by first-time canoers.” She turned her gaze back to Zach, who shivered in the cool evening breeze. “I just want to make sure he understands the dangers involved, so he won’t do it again.”

  Zach lowered his head. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

  Paige’s posture relaxed. “That’s okay. You’d better go get changed. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow for the start of camp.”

  Zach nodded, and for the first time looked at his father. Nathan held back the reprimand on his tongue. He’d save that for later. “Go on up to the room and start the shower. I’ll be right there.”

  Without another word, Zach turned and headed toward the inn.

  Nathan followed Paige back to the canoe and helped her dump out the water. They left it upside down on the beach to dry.

  She folded her arms across her chest, a worried expression darkening her eyes. “I’m afraid we didn’t get off to a great start.”

  His instincts had been right then. “What really happened?”

  She bit her bottom lip. “When I told Zach that I would be talking to him about his mother, he got upset.”

  “And?”

  “He jumped up and threw one of the paddles out into the lake.” She sounded apologetic as if she was the one who had done something wrong. “Maybe I brought it up too abruptly.”

  She shivered, and he realized she must be freezing. The sun had dipped below the horizon of the lake and even in dry clothes, he was aware of a cool breeze off the water. “You should go get changed yourself.”

  She nodded. “Hopefully things will go better tomorrow.”

  He gave her one last look and shook his head. “From past experience, I wouldn’t count on it. Good night, Miss McFarlane.”

  She let out a soft sigh. “Good night, Mr. Porter.”

  * * *

  Monday morning, Paige bit down on her pen as she double-checked the list of names on her clipboard. All the campers except one had arrived. She glanced at her watch. Nine fifteen. She’d waited long enough. Time to start the orientation.

  As was the tradition every first morning of camp, Paige put on a little welcome for the children and their families. It was a good way to help everyone feel more comfortable. Once the kids got to meet each other, the parents could say their goodbyes and discreetly leave.

  Paige raised her head to scan the group of people socializing on the stone patio. It was the perfect weather to hold the event outdoors today. Lou had provided a light buffet-style breakfast with fresh orange juice, fruit and an assortment of pastries. Some of the kids had already paired up. The girls especially stood grouped together, comparing backpacks. Jerry demonstrated some volleyball moves to the boys, while the parents mingled by the coffee bar.

  All except Nathan Porter, who stood alone by the far wall, sunglasses hiding his eyes. From the grim set of his mouth, he didn’t seem at all happy to be here. If Paige hadn’t emphasized the necessity for all parents to participate, she had little doubt he would have remained in his room—alone. At least Zach was mixing with the other boys. Paige prayed he’d make friends easily. That would play a huge role in whether or not he would enjoy the camp experience.

  A boy and a woman came into sight, walking hesitantly across the patio toward the crowd.

  Ah, the missing camper. Paige strode toward them. The dark-haired woman placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder as Paige approached.

  “Hello. This must be Peter.” Paige smiled at the boy.

  His blue eyes, framed by black-rimmed glasses, regarded her with a serious gaze.

  “Yes,” the woman answered. “I’m Anna O’Brien, Peter’s mom. Sorry we’re late. I got lost on those side roads.” An air of sadness hugged the woman’s features.

  “I’m Paige McFarlane, the camp director. Please come and join the rest of us. We have refreshments and coffee on the far table, and we’ll begin the orientation tour in about ten minutes.” Paige wanted to give the newcomers time to meet the others before they started. She ushered the pair over to the group, guiding Peter toward the other boys.

  “Hey, guys. This is Peter. Peter, these are some of the other campers. There’s Justin, Bobby, Steven, Kyle and Zach.”

  “Hi.” Kyle came forward to greet Peter. He glanced at Peter’s mom hovering behind Paige.

  Definitely one of the overprotective types, Paige decided.

  “How come your dad didn’t come?” Kyle asked. “Both my parents are here.”

  Peter shifted from one sneaker to the other. From the corner of her eye, Paige saw Anna stiffen.

  “My dad’s dead.” Peter shrugged. “He died in Iraq.”

  Paige gripped her clipboard tighter. Another child who’d lost a parent. Was she destined to open Wyndermere’s Center for Grieving Children?

  Kyle scratched his elbow. “Oh, sorry. I thought maybe your parents were divorced like Bobby’s.”

  Anna stepped up beside Paige. “I was going to
tell you privately,” she said in a quiet voice. “It happened almost a year ago, but Peter can still be withdrawn sometimes.”

  Paige gave her arm a sympathetic squeeze. “Thank you for letting me know. I’ll take extra care with him.”

  The woman’s eyes moistened. “Thank you.”

  At the same time, Paige noticed Zach moving closer, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his shorts.

  “My mom’s dead, too.”

  Paige held her breath as Zach looked right at Peter. The whole group seemed to stop talking as if awaiting the boy’s reaction.

  Peter pushed his glasses up higher on his nose. “Guess we’re both half orphans.”

  “Guess so.” Zach pointed to the table of food. “Wanna go get something to eat? The muffins are awesome.”

  “Sure.”

  As the boys moved off, Paige let out the breath she’d been holding. Lord, You sure answer prayers in unique ways sometimes. Thank You for bringing Peter here for Zach. I think he’s just the friend Zach needs.

  Chapter Four

  “Who can tell me the main point in the story of the prodigal son?” Paige smiled at the twelve eager faces in the meeting room they used as a classroom during camp every summer.

  Three days in, and apart from a few minor glitches, the program had been running smoothly. The kids were bright, eager and, for the most part, well behaved. Even Zach had settled in to camp life without incident, due in large part, Page felt, to his budding friendship with Peter. The two had been inseparable since the first morning.

  Her gaze settled on Zach and her stomach nose-dived. Make that eleven eager faces and one scowling one. She turned her attention to the four hands waving wildly in the air. “Yes, Felicia?”

  The girl’s beaming smile revealed several missing teeth. “If you do bad things but you’re sorry, your parents will forgive you.”

  “Very good. Forgiveness is the moral of our story. Like the father in the parable, our Heavenly Father forgives all our sins if we are truly sorry. He’ll always be waiting for us if we decide to come back to Him.” She looked at the clock. “That’s all the time we have for now. I want you all to think about which Bible story you’d like to study on Friday, and we’ll vote on it tomorrow. Now everyone down to the lake.”

  A flurry of activity ensued as the group rushed to follow Sandy, eager for their canoe lesson with Jerry. Zach, however, remained in his seat, glaring at the tabletop. Peter hovered in the doorway as though unsure what to do.

  “You go on with the others, Peter. Zach will be out in a minute.”

  Peter nodded and dashed off to catch up with the campers, his footsteps echoing down the corridor.

  Paige turned to study Zach’s profile, and huffed out a small sigh. She hadn’t made any progress with him over the past few days. Other than those few words he’d said to Peter, Zach remained closemouthed about anything to do with his mother. Maybe if Paige pried into whatever had caused his present bad mood, she’d get him to open up.

  With casual strokes, she erased the whiteboard. “Didn’t you like today’s story, Zach?” She darted a glance over her shoulder.

  “No.” He shredded a strip off the handout she’d given everyone.

  She set the eraser down. “May I ask why?”

  “Because it’s all a big, fat lie.”

  Paige allowed herself no reaction to Zach’s outburst. “Which part exactly is a lie?”

  Deep ridges formed between his brows. “The part about fathers always forgiving stuff. You shouldn’t tell everyone they do.”

  He turned furious eyes on her, glittering with unshed tears. Sympathy welled in her chest, and the frustration from the past few days melted away. She longed to take him in her arms and promise him everything would be all right. But that would be totally unprofessional and totally unacceptable.

  First rule of therapy—no touching the patient.

  She took a few steps closer and crouched beside his chair. “What won’t your father forgive?” she asked softly.

  Zach shrugged and rubbed a hand across his face. “Not what—who. He wouldn’t forgive my mom.” He waited a minute before continuing. “She took me away, and my dad was real mad about that. But later Mom wanted us to go home again.” His face crumpled, like the paper under his fingers. “She cried and said she was sorry, just like the prodigal son. But Dad didn’t care. He said we couldn’t come home. He hates us.” His voice broke on a stifled sob.

  His tears overflowed and dripped down his cheeks. Zach looked away in obvious distress, and Paige just couldn’t ignore his suffering. Throwing the rules out the window, she pulled him to her and pressed his head to her shoulder. “It’s okay to cry, Zach,” she whispered.

  She expected him to argue, even pull away. Instead he clutched at her, sobs racking his slim body while hot tears drenched her shirt. Her heart broke for this child and the soul-wrenching grief that consumed him. She stroked his tousled hair until he finally quieted. Paige found her own eyes moist when he drew away from her and wiped his face on his sleeve.

  “You won’t tell my dad about this, will you?”

  “About what?” She frowned, then recognized the embarrassment on his face. “You mean, that you were crying?”

  He nodded, not looking at her. “My dad never cries.”

  “I’m sure he does in private. Most dads don’t like to cry in front of anyone.”

  Zach shook his head. “He says men don’t cry.”

  Annoyance prickled at that kind of archaic, macho belief. “Crying is nothing to be ashamed of, honey. It helps your heart heal.”

  “I guess.” But he didn’t sound convinced.

  With gentle fingers, she pushed an unruly curl off his forehead. “Anytime you feel sad or like crying, you can come to me. I’ll be your safe place where you can say or do whatever you want. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Her heart tumbled when he raised vulnerable eyes to hers and swiped a hand across his nose. She pulled a tissue from her pocket and handed it to him. “You ready to join the others for another canoe lesson?”

  When he nodded, she held out her hand. “Come on, I’ll walk you down.”

  With his trusting hand in hers, they made their way to the lake. Paige lifted a prayer as she walked.

  Lord, please use me to be Zach’s place of refuge. Let him feel safe with me and allow me to ease his pain. And while You’re at it, I could use some help getting through to his father.

  Secretly, Paige thought that breaking down Nathan’s walls might prove to be the tougher job all around.

  * * *

  Nathan’s footsteps echoed down the hallway outside the auditorium, where, according to the posted schedule, the children should be practicing songs for a play. He’d slip in and watch the end of the rehearsal until he could speak with Miss McFarlane.

  With some effort, Nathan pushed back his resentment at another summons from the persistent woman. He hadn’t really spoken to her—other than a brief hello at the opening of camp—since the canoe-tipping incident, and he suspected Zach had done something else to incur her discipline. He only hoped it wasn’t serious enough for Miss McFarlane to banish Zach from the camp altogether. Though he had to admit, despite the tension between them, he missed Zach’s presence in the suite they’d shared for a few days before camp started. Nathan sighed. At least, from what Nathan was able to observe, Zach seemed to be enjoying the camaraderie with other boys his age.

  Nathan paused at the door to the auditorium and tugged at the collar of his polo shirt. For reasons he couldn’t name, Paige McFarlane unsettled him, challenged him, made him feel like an incompetent parent. Then again, maybe it was his own insecurity talking.

  In any case, he needed to put his personal feelings aside and allow her to do her job—because he couldn’t deny that wheth
er or not she’d gotten Zach to open up about his mother’s death, she’d already brought about changes in his son that Nathan could not. He’d witnessed Zach interacting with the other kids, watched him laughing and playing like a normal seven-year-old. That alone was worth putting up with Miss McFarlane’s superior attitude.

  He placed a hand on the door handle, cracked it open an inch, then stopped to listen. A voice as pure and sweet as liquid honey floated on the air toward him. Who was that singing? Surely not one of the children. Nathan nudged the door open and slid inside. His insides quivered, resonating with the deep tone of the piano. He hadn’t listened to any music since Cynthia’s funeral. Music evoked too many powerful emotions—emotions he’d fought long and hard to repress.

  He paused now, however, to let the beauty of the song roll over him, squinting to see whom the exquisite voice belonged to. Rendered immobile, he could only stare.

  The person singing was none other than Paige McFarlane.

  He stood riveted in place while her voice, as soothing as a balm, reached some secret place inside him and touched his very soul. The song ended on a poignant note, at which time the children burst into loud applause.

  Nathan blinked in an effort to break the spell that had befallen him. The soft stage lights danced over Paige’s pale hair, creating a quivering aura around her. Her green eyes glowed with emotion, giving her smile a euphoric quality, and for a moment, he wondered if she were real or an illusion.

  A petite brunette rounded up the kids and herded them through the door. Paige hopped down from the stage and stopped to speak to the other camp counselor—Jerry, he thought his name was—at the piano. She glanced up, and did a double take when she saw Nathan. She said something to Jerry, then started across the auditorium toward him.

  Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Nathan moved to meet her halfway. “I got your message. You wanted to see me?”

  She clutched a book of music in front of her. “Thanks for coming. I didn’t expect you so soon.” She glanced back at Jerry, who waved on his way out. “I need to speak to you again about Zach.”