by Lois Richer
“No more cooking for you today, Sophie,” he said firmly. “We’ll grab something there.”
“But—” She stopped when he shook his head.
“It’s Easter, a time to celebrate the risen Lord. Let’s enjoy the day He’s made for us.” It wasn’t so much Tanner’s words as the wistful expression she saw in his green eyes that ended her argument. She had no intention of refusing. In fact, she could hardly wait to get started.
Funny how she always thought of Tanner as a loner. Was that an aura left over from his former street persona? How she wished he’d open up to her about his past. What was so terrible that he had to hide it? Drugs? Theft?
“Sophie?” His hand on her arm drew her from her introspection.
“Sorry. I’ll change and be right out.” She moved away from his touch while noting how much she liked it. Too much. “Beth, do you want to change out of your Easter dress?”
“Why?” Beth looked shocked by the suggestion. “It’s an Easter dress and this is Easter,” she said logically.
“Indeed it is. And a most lovely dress it is, too. The zoo animals will love it.” Tanner grinned at Sophie. “We’re waiting on you.”
They didn’t wait long. Sophie took mere seconds to change into her favorite sundress, loosen her hair from the topknot she favored for work and spritz on a few drops of her favorite scent.
For Tanner?
She ignored that mocking voice in her head and joined the others, inwardly glowing at his approving smile. She accepted his helping hand into his truck and made sure her kids were belted in before fastening her own. On the drive to Reid Park Zoo, Davy and Beth chatted with Tanner about Pastor Jeff’s short sermon that they heard this morning at Wranglers’ sunrise service. As Sophie listened to Tanner’s answers to their questions, she was struck by the solid faith of the cowboy’s answers.
“See, the thing is, Davy, that we are the center of God’s plan.” Tanner caught her scrutiny and smiled at her before he continued. “He dreamed up the idea of us and made us His children, part of His family, just because He wants to love us.”
“Even if we do bad things?” her son wondered.
“Even if,” Tanner affirmed.
“But God doesn’t like us to do bad things,” Beth corrected in a grave tone.
“Nope. You’re right.” Stopped at a stop sign, Tanner reached behind Sophie and tugged Beth’s ponytail with a smile. “He doesn’t like that. But it doesn’t stop Him from loving us. No matter what we do He loves us because we’re His kids.”
“Sometimes I don’t feel like God hears me when I pray to Him.” Sophie saw Davy shoot her a quick glance as if he wasn’t sure he should have admitted that. If he only knew how often his mother felt the same!
“We all have times like that.” Tanner’s tone grew pensive.
“Even you?” Davy asked in an awed voice.
“Especially me,” Tanner said. “That’s when I remind myself that nothing can separate us from God’s love. Nothing.”
“Does it say that in the Bible?” Beth asked. Sophie hid her smile at her daughter’s fastidious insistence on knowing biblical references.
“It does. I’ll show you later,” Tanner promised. “It says something else, too. It says in Deuteronomy that the Lord our God is faithful and will keep His agreement of love for a thousand lifetimes for people who love Him and obey His commands.”
“A thousand lifetimes is a long time,” Davy murmured thoughtfully.
“Our God makes big promises. And He keeps them,” Tanner said.
The kids seemed satisfied with that answer and so was Sophie, though when she got the chance she was going to ask Tanner some questions about her own Bible study. His faith seemed so much more developed than hers.
Rubbing shoulders with Tanner, she wandered through the zoo beside him as the kids dashed ahead. Then they’d run back to be sure the adults hadn’t missed anything. It was a warm afternoon filled with fun and relaxation, and Sophie savored the closeness she felt with Tanner.
“Time for lemonade?” At her nod he bought them each a glass of the chilly beverage and they sat at a picnic table to enjoy it. Davy and Beth kept running off only to return full of information about the next exhibit.
“They’re having so much fun. Thank you for bringing us here,” Sophie said when they were alone for a few minutes.
“They’re good kids. I enjoy being with them.” Tanner smiled at her. She would have liked to read his eyes but they were concealed behind his sunglasses. For once he’d left his Stetson in the truck. “I enjoy being with you, too,” he added in a quieter voice.
“It’s mutual,” she said, struggling not to grin at him and reveal just how much she was enjoying this afternoon. “I don’t think Burt could have picked anyone better than you to run Wranglers Ranch.”
“That’s debatable.” He shrugged, then grinned. “But I’m awfully glad he entrusted me with his dream. It’s a challenge that’s truly worthwhile.”
“I agree.” Sophie inclined her head to study him. “I noticed someone carved his verse about you into a piece of beech wood and hung it in the barn.”
“I did,” he admitted sheepishly. “I don’t want to forget the things he told me.”
“Fan into flame the gift that is within you,” she quoted. “Do you know what that gift is yet?”
“Not a clue.” His nose wrinkled. “I don’t have any special gifts unless you count riding a horse. I can do that okay.”
“A little better than okay, I’d say. Moses showed me all those rodeo trophies you won.” Sophie liked the way he deflected compliments. In her opinion, Tanner Johns had a lot to be proud of and yet he didn’t put on airs or try to impress. He just did what needed doing. “I think you have many gifts. But you don’t think of them as gifts.”
He leaned back with a frown. “Gifts like what?”
“The way you handle Tige’s sons for one thing.” Sophie wasn’t sure he wanted her to discuss that. After all, he’d spoken about his former friend only one time and that was to warn her. She’d offered him several opportunities since but he hadn’t confided anything more, so his past remained a mystery to her.
Tige’s two boys kept reappearing at the ranch. Tanner acted as if that was perfectly natural. He never questioned them about their parents, simply treated them as if they were visitors—the same as other kids who’d recently begun to drop by. He made sure the two boys were fed, taught them how to sit on a horse and answered any questions they had. And he always invited them to come back.
“Being with Rod and Trent doesn’t take any gift.” He shrugged it off. “They’re just kids.”
“Kids in a bad situation. Lots of people would try to get them away from their parents or convince them to run away,” she began but Tanner was vehemently shaking his head.
“I would never do that without a very good reason,” he said in a harsh voice. “Families are precious.”
“See?” Sophie grinned and nudged him with her elbow while wondering why he was so adamant on the subject of families. Her questions about him grew. “That’s what I’m talking about. Everything you do is for the kids’ sake. That’s a gift.”
Tanner made a rude noise.
“It’s common sense. I’m a product of a foster home. Believe me I’m well aware that if Rod and Trent were put in foster care they could be better off. It could also be much worse.”
“You’ve made sure they’re okay with Tige and Lulu, haven’t you?” she guessed and smiled when he shrugged.
“Judging parents isn’t my mission. My mission is to help kids,” he said, his voice unwavering. “That means gaining their trust and trusting them to know when to ask for help. And those two haven’t. I think they’re willing to come to Wranglers because I don’t interfere.”
“But it’s not just t
hose two. You have a gift with most kids, Davy included,” she insisted. “I’ve seen the way you work with them after they fail at something they desperately want to do, like Davy trying to rope that calf the other day.” She joined in his reminiscent chuckle, then sobered. “He was frustrated and ready to blow. You could have made fun of him or told him to practice. Instead you used that opportunity to teach him about patience. That’s a gift.”
Tanner let his sunglasses slide to the end of his nose so he could give her a rolling-eye look. “You’re pushing the definition, Sophie.”
“I don’t think so. I think God is using you at Wranglers far beyond anything Burt could have imagined. God showed him those qualities in you—those gifts that you’re fanning into flame.” She stared into the distance thoughtfully. “I wish I had some kind of gift.”
“You do!” Of course Tanner being Tanner, he raced to enumerate what he considered her gifts and compliment her. She cut him off.
“It’s nice of you to say, but I don’t have any real gifts,” she murmured sadly. “I’m not the type of person God uses.”
“Why do you think that, Sophie?” he asked quietly. “Why do you think God isn’t using you?”
“Because I’m not fit. Because I can’t quite trust Him.” She hung her head, ashamed of the admission. “Not completely. I’m trying but—I’m just not there yet.”
“Listen to me.” He shoved his sunglasses to the top of his head, then took her hand in both of his. “Willingness to be used is what God looks for. Trust me, He is using you. And as He does you will learn to trust Him more and more. It’s a process. Trust grows. The more we use it, the stronger it gets.”
She stared at his hand holding hers and wondered for the hundredth time why Tanner Johns wasn’t involved with someone. Were single women so foolish that they couldn’t see beyond his humble cowboy demeanor and recognize his integrity and compassion?
Maybe he’s hiding something that you can’t or won’t see.
Taken aback by that thought, Sophie immediately wondered if there was something about Tanner that when revealed would cost her. She liked, appreciated and respected him but...
Distrust moved in. Much as she hated breaking contact with him, she slid her hand from his while forcing a smile.
“Thank you for your encouragement.” She watched her children dart from one animal enclosure to the next and admitted, “I know it’s foolish but somehow depending on God seems like I’m abandoning my role as a mother. After all, I’m responsible for them. Leaving things up to Him seems like I’m letting go of the controls He’s given me.”
“You’re not letting go, Sophie. You’re being their mother in the best way you know how, by seeking His will,” he said. “Then you act, trusting that He’s directing you.”
How did Tanner’s explanations about God always make her feel better, as if she wasn’t the failure at Christianity that she always felt?
“Recently I’ve been reading Isaiah. I’ve been struck by how much God yearned for His children to love Him.” He shook his head as if he couldn’t wrap his mind around why it should be so. “They were disobedient, they took other gods, they did exactly what God said not to and He had to discipline them. Yet there’s such a longing in His words, begging them to restore their relationship with Him and to have their love again. Such love amazes me.”
Sophie made a mental note to read Isaiah as Davy and Beth rushed back, finished their drinks and pleaded to move on.
As the afternoon waned, the children’s restlessness gave way to quiet introspection as Tanner frequently commented about God’s painstaking efforts to make His creation perfect. And always the big cowboy emphasized how much God loved His children. Tanner made God the father’s love come alive.
Yet it wasn’t so much Tanner’s comments about family as the way he expressed them, combined with the lingering hugs he’d given Beth and Davy that bothered Sophie later that night when she sat alone in her living room.
She’d watched him as the kids raced away from him, into the house. She’d seen the loneliness wash over his face, felt his yearning to stay, to share her family.
Once more Sophie’s questions about him ratcheted up. Why didn’t he talk about his past? Surely he’d dated, fallen in love at least once?
Sophie’s misgivings about Tanner came from concern that the rancher was hiding something she wouldn’t like. She cared a lot about Tanner. But she couldn’t get past the fear that trusting him would cost her dearly.
Chapter Ten
Tanner sat on his patio in the May sunshine, nursing a fragrant cup of perfectly brewed coffee, utterly stunned by the contents of the manila envelope in front of him. As he read everything in his private detective’s update, hope shriveled inside him. Now he could only stare at the small picture that had been clipped to the report, desperately struggling to formulate a prayer for direction, for something to end this despair clawing at him. Nothing came.
All he could think of was that his child was gone. He’d never know that person, never see his potential or hear Hi, Daddy. His insides squeezed tight with pain and loss.
God?
Tanner didn’t know how much time passed before he jerked to awareness at the sound of a vehicle arriving. He rose, stuffed the papers into the envelope and stored it under a plant pot, tucking the picture into his back pocket. Something else to hide.
His heart lifted as he caught a glimpse of a familiar van. Sophie and the kids. But she was catering a Memorial Day dinner today. She wasn’t supposed to be here.
Something must be wrong.
Surprised by how glad he was to see her again, though only last night he’d enjoyed a barbecue dinner at her house, Tanner suddenly realized that they now saw each other almost every day. Which was good and totally fine with him. It couldn’t be too often for Tanner. Sophie and her kids felt like his family, the one he’d always wanted and now would never have. That secret was hardest of all to keep.
“Hey,” he greeted, opening her door. She looked beautiful, as usual, though her lips were pursed in a thin line. “What’s happening?”
“Not that stupid stove of mine.” She frowned. “I hate to keep running to you—”
“Why?” he demanded, surprised by how much he disliked her saying that. He wanted her to need him. He’d have to think about that later. “Aren’t we friends? Don’t friends help each other?”
“Well, you certainly help me an awful lot.” She sighed and slid out of the van.
Oh, Sophie. If only you knew how much I love helping you, being around you, touching you. Kissing you? A kiss wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy his longing to hold her.
“I’m not sure you get as much as you give,” she said, her tone wistful.
“Do you hear me complaining?” Tanner asked.
“Not yet. Guess the treats I’ve been leaving in your fridge must be working.” Sophie laughed when he licked his lips, then sobered. “May I please use your kitchen? Again?”
“Of course. Hi, guys.” He grinned at Beth, high-fived Davy. “What needs carrying in?”
“I brought everything for the meal,” she said, handing him a stack of bins. “I haven’t got time to run back and forth. It’s already eight and I have to serve at one thirty.”
“Okay, you two, lead the way.” He chuckled at Beth’s delicate maneuvers with her bulging bag of salad fixings. Davy, on the other hand, wielded his two plastic tubs with such carefree abandon that Tanner caught his breath when they teetered dangerously, and held it until everything was safely stored on the kitchen countertop.
“This is going to be tight.” A hint of panic laced Sophie’s voice. She who never panicked. With practiced ease she slid a pan that held perfectly sliced roast beef into the oven, covered it and set the temperature to warm the meat.
“It’s going to be as perfect as
everything else you make. And we’re going to help you.” He glanced at Davy and waited for his nod. Of course, Beth copied her brother. “What should we do first?”
“Can you peel potatoes?” she asked hesitantly, as if she thought he’d never used a knife on a tuber before.
Tanner gave her a look he meant to say, You doubt my abilities?
“Of course you can. You’re Tanner Johns. You do everything well.”
If she only knew. Tanner made no response except to return her smile.
“There’s a bag in that yellow bin. Start peeling. Beth, you can whip the cream for my banana cream pie and Davy, you can chop carrots. Are you sure you don’t mind?” she asked Tanner.
“I might have,” he said, thinking of how desolate he’d felt only ten minutes ago and how her arrival had chased away his gloom. “But since I’ve just finished the most excellent cup of coffee from a wonderful machine someone gave me on my birthday, I’m in a very good mood.”
He winked, relieved that for now the dark clouds had dissipated from his brain though he knew they’d return when Sophie and her family were gone and he was alone. Again.
Unable to constrain his need to touch her, he reached out to caress her cheek and whispered, “Calm down, Sophie. We’re going to help you make this meal amazing. Trust us.”
Tanner didn’t miss the way her forehead furrowed and her eyes narrowed at his choice of words. So she still found it hard to trust. Even him? Tanner was going to have to do something about that.
He’d thought about buying her a new stove. But then it occurred to him that Sophie would stop coming to Wranglers so often if she didn’t need his kitchen. He wasn’t about to end these sweet meetings. He enjoyed having her and the kids here too much.
“Make thinner peelings, please.” Meeting his dour look, Sophie explained, “I know exactly how many potatoes I need. If you keep peeling half away I’ll run out.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted then returned to his work. But he couldn’t stop watching as she moved around the kitchen, checking on Beth’s progress, stirring the pie filling on the stove, encouraging Davy to keep going. “We have to do our best to help your mom make this a fantastic meal, kids.”