by Lois Richer
“Why?” Davy frowned.
“Because this is a dinner for men and women who have worked to protect our country and keep it free,” Tanner explained. “Some of them have even been injured, lost arms or legs or they have scars that will never get better.”
“Why do they do it if they get hurt?” Beth turned off the mixer and waited for an answer while her mother checked the consistency of the cream.
“They do it so we can live here in peace. They do it so we don’t have to fight people who don’t like freedom.” He watched them process that information.
“I don’t know exactly what freedom means,” Davy said with a frown. “You mean like we’re not slaves or something?”
“Sort of. Freedom means we can live without someone trying to make us do things we don’t want to do,” he clarified.
“You mean like when Bertie wants me to kiss him and I don’t want to?” Beth’s question stopped Sophie in her tracks. She stared at her daughter in shock. Tanner chuckled at Mama Sophie’s dismay. She frowned at him so he cleared his throat and continued.
“Yep, sweetheart, sorta like that.” He couldn’t look at Sophie or he’d start laughing again. “There are some people in the world who don’t want us to be able to go to church, or live without someone telling us what to do. Some people want to take what other people have and keep it for themselves.”
“Like Josh,” Davy said, nodding.
“Who’s Josh?” Sophie’s voice squeaked. Tanner felt a rush of sympathy. She was probably hearing about these particular issues for the first time and beating herself up that she hadn’t known earlier and protected them.
“A kid at school who takes other kids’ lunch treats and eats them,” Davy replied nonchalantly. “That’s why I always ask for two snacks.” He grinned at his mother, obviously delighted with his solution.
“Good thinking, buddy,” Tanner encouraged because Sophie seemed speechless. “Anyway, veterans are men and women who work so other countries can’t take what we have.”
“Like our treats you mean?” Beth frowned in confusion.
Tanner had to laugh out loud at that.
“I’ll explain later. Okay, honey?” Sophie pressed a kiss against her daughter’s hair. “This whipped cream is perfect. Can you chop up some dill for the salad now?”
“Sure.” Beth bent over the task cheerfully, her concentration on the herb.
“I think Tanner is trying to say that we can thank these men and women,” Sophie corrected with a wink at him, “by giving them a nice meal.”
Tanner felt the impact of that wink straight in his midsection. A second later he was swamped by a rush of guilt. She still thought the abandoning father he’d discussed with her was some unknown friend of his. He hadn’t trusted her enough to tell her the truth.
Who was he to preach trust to anyone?
He worked steadily, doing whatever she asked while encouraging the kids in their jobs. Half an hour before the appointed time, Tanner sat in the driver’s seat of the van with Sophie beside him.
“Are you sure this is the right way?” She checked a street sign, then her watch for the fifth time. “I’m going to be so late.”
“No, you’re not. There’s the place over there. We came the back way. You need to trust me, Sophie,” he teased, then inwardly grimaced. There was that word again.
“Yes, I do,” she said. He couldn’t move under her steady scrutiny. Finally she broke that stare. “Now if we can get it inside without spilling.”
“Puhleeze, woman! Have some faith.” Tanner shook his head in mock reproof. He climbed out of the van, took the heavy chafing dish with the beef from her hands and followed her inside the building. He made six more trips with the kids “helping.”
In the kitchen, Sophie worked fast. Her two helpers had already arrived and had the beverages under control. Realizing he and the kids were now in her way, Tanner guided the children into the dining room where veterans were taking their places at the tables. He began taking orders for coffee, iced tea and water, including Davy and Beth as he chatted with each vet. Soon the two children were following Tanner’s lead, ensuring each person had what he or she needed.
A minister Tanner didn’t know said grace, then Sophie and her staff began serving. They worked quickly, Monica and Tiffany emptying the rolling cart as quickly as Sophie filled it. Tanner’s admiration for her well-oiled operation grew as a murmur of approval flickered through the room, which now resonated with the delicious aroma of succulent roast beef. Someone invited him, Beth and Davy to sit at a table and moments later Sophie whisked full plates in front of them.
“Aren’t you eating?” he asked, realizing a moment later that she wouldn’t stop until her job was finished.
She moved through the room like the consummate hostess, refilling plates with a gentle brush to the shoulder, a soft, sweet smile and words he couldn’t hear but knew would bring comfort. No one was left out of Sophie’s generosity, he noticed, when men and women carried take-out containers. A man across the table said the meals would go to those veterans who couldn’t participate in today’s ceremony.
As quickly as a veteran’s empty plate was removed by Tiffany, Monica replaced it with a towering slice of banana cream pie with whipped topping. Davy’s eyes stretched wide when his mother set his pie in front of him though Beth only smiled and said, “Thank you, Mama,” before she lifted her fork to sample hers.
When Sophie leaned over Tanner’s shoulder, he couldn’t help but inhale the fresh citrus scent of her hair as she handed him his pie. She turned her head to look at him and their gazes locked. Her lips were a hairbreadth from his. Tanner had to work hard not to lean slightly to the side and kiss her. As if she knew, she squeezed his shoulder and moved away quickly.
He ate his dessert in a trance, stunned by the depth of his yearning to be close to her, to be the one she turned to every day instead of only during emergencies. Sophie Armstrong was everything he’d ever imagined in a woman: warm, generous, kind, giving.
He was in love with her!
* * *
“You have the best ideas, Tanner.” Sophie shifted a little on her comfy lawn chair under the shade of a mesquite tree and inhaled, letting go of the tension that had built up from the veterans’ dinner and her stupid stove. “Thank you for helping me this morning and then inviting us to spend this afternoon at Wranglers.”
“You’re always invited to Wranglers Ranch, Sophie.” The warm intimacy in his voice made her feel cherished. “You should take a break more often.”
“What about you?” She shook her head. “I saw those three boys show up, heard them ask if they could ride your horses. You seemed to know them.”
“Friends of Rod and Trent,” he said in what Sophie considered a guarded tone.
“Oh.” She pretended to study her pink toenails. “Have you heard any more from Tige?”
“No.” He used Davy’s squeal as he jumped in the creek to change the subject. “We’ve had another week of camp fill up. Two more and we’ll have the summer filled.”
“And you won’t charge for any of them?” she asked curiously.
“No. Not unless we’re asked to rent. Then I’ll request a nominal fee.” He smiled. “Don’t worry, Sophie. Wranglers is well funded. Even if we weren’t, donations have been coming in now that the word is getting out that we’re here for all kids.”
“Is that primarily Pastor Jeff’s doing?” She smiled as Beth dipped one delicate toe in the water. A second later she plunged in, shrieking with delight. Because Tanner didn’t answer she turned to glance at him, found him watching her. “Tanner?”
“Partly Jeff’s. That street mission work he’s doing gives him a lot of contacts with kids who need help. I’m glad he asked me to partner with him on that.” He shrugged, then chewed on a stem of grass for a moment
. “It’s also due in part to Rod and Trent. I guess they talk up Wranglers Ranch quite a bit.”
“No wonder. You’ve been great with them,” she praised. “Does that mean you aren’t worried about Tige anymore?”
“Not exactly. I don’t want him to come here, if that’s what you’re asking.” Why didn’t he look at her?
“It isn’t.” Sophie frowned. “A few weeks ago you were seriously worried about him, though I’m still not clear exactly why. Did he threaten you or something?”
“Tige doesn’t threaten.”
“Well, something about him bothered you enough to hire that security outfit that now keeps watch on Wranglers.” Confused and uncertain, Sophie waited for an explanation. “Yet today you seem almost nonchalant.”
“I’m not nonchalant.” Tanner’s voice tightened. “The security guys haven’t seen or heard anything and there haven’t been any other incidents. Since kids are coming here, which is what I wanted, I’m trying to focus on what I’m here to do and leave Tige up to God.”
“Yes, but—” Nervous about her burgeoning feelings for Tanner but hesitant to reveal them when he seemed to be distancing himself, Sophie finally asked the question that had been plaguing her. “Did you have a girlfriend when you lived on the streets?”
Tanner’s head jerked toward her. His face tightened into a mask Sophie had seen only once before, for a few moments the morning after the fire.
“Why do you ask that?” he growled.
“Because you never talk about your past. I’ve told you all kinds of things about Marty and my past life,” Sophie snapped, irritated that this sense of foreboding still troubled her. “But I know almost nothing about yours.”
“There’s nothing to know.” Tanner smiled at her, but it wasn’t his usual open smile. This one hid shadows in the back of his rich green eyes. The ball Davy and Beth had been throwing rolled toward him. As if relieved, he jumped to his feet to retrieve it. “I’m going to throw them a few,” he said and walked away.
Sophie was about to nod but since he wasn’t looking at her she clamped her lips shut, frustrated by the barrier that had seemed to come between them. Tanner laughed and joked with her children while she sat stewing about his attitude and lack of forthrightness. She yearned to be part of the fun the others were having but she couldn’t settle. She wanted to trust Tanner was everything he seemed to be.
But what if she trusted him and he betrayed her?
Questions about Tanner and his past tormented Sophie until finally she rose and walked toward a gray-barked sycamore tree near their horses. She admired the beautifully arched white branches loaded with large star-shaped leaves before lifting down the knapsack she’d packed earlier. She took out a thermos of coffee and poured herself a cup.
And froze.
There on the ground, where Tanner had been sitting just a minute earlier, lay a picture. Sophie bent, picked it up and swallowed hard. It was a copy of an ultrasound picture of an unborn child.
Tanner’s child?
Her knees buckled at the thought. Clutching her coffee, she sank onto a sun-warmed rock, unable to get past that thought. She sipped her black coffee, willing her hands to move, her brain to work, her thoughts to organize.
Sophie had no idea how much time had passed when she heard the kids’ voices coming closer. Without even thinking she slipped the picture into the pocket of her capris not knowing why, only aware that she needed time to make sense of her suddenly tilting world.
“We’re ready for a snack,” Tanner said, his usual tone in place. Then he frowned at her. “Sophie?”
“Yes. A snack.” She dredged up a smile while suppressing the urge to scream traitor. After all, she didn’t know anything about this picture yet. “Good thing I packed some cookies.”
“Are you all right?” His voice couldn’t have been more caring nor could the hand he placed on her shoulder have been more tender. “Don’t you feel well?”
“Actually I don’t. I think I’ll sit here and relax with my coffee while you guys have your snack.” She returned to her former seat, away from his touch, his voice and those all-seeing eyes. “I’ll be fine,” she assured him when he kept watching her.
Of course she would be. She had to be.
Because if there was one lesson Sophie had learned it was self-reliance. But while she maintained her stoic face, her heart cried,
Whom do I trust now, God?
* * *
“There’s something wrong so you might as well tell me what it is.” Tanner sat on Sophie’s lumpy sofa and waited for the ax to fall. “The kids are in bed, probably sleeping, and you don’t have a job scheduled for tomorrow so you have no excuse to keep you from telling me what it is.”
Sophie said nothing, simply reached into her pocket and slid something out. She set it on the coffee table in front of him. “You dropped this when we were at the creek.”
Tanner knew she wouldn’t ask him about the photo. She wanted to. He could see the questions filling her dark eyes. But she’d asked him about his past so often and he’d always rebuffed her. He knew she wouldn’t ask again.
Explaining was the very last thing he wanted to do. But for ages he’d been telling her to trust. Now it was his turn to trust her—with the truth.
“The picture is of my son. He died before he was ever born.”
Sophie caught her breath but gave no other visible sign that she was affected.
“I have to start at the beginning, okay?” When she nodded, he sighed. “Remember the friend I asked you about, the one who walked away from his pregnant girlfriend?” Her eyes flared and he nodded. “It was me. Her name was Amy and the day Burt invited me to live with him she’d just told me she was pregnant.”
“But how— When...?” Sophie’s lips pinched together. She sat back and waited.
“I know what I did was wrong. I know I should have taken care of her, at least made sure she was all right. I had a responsibility and I dodged it, ran away to a world I’d only ever dreamed about.” Tanner could tell by her expression that Sophie was horrified. “I should have been there for Amy and I wasn’t. I will always be ashamed of that.”
“Why did you do it?” she whispered.
“I don’t know if you can understand how unbelievable Burt’s offer was to me.” Even now Tanner was amazed that he of all people had been selected to live at Wranglers. “I’d been on the street for three months. I was scared, hungry, alone and going nowhere fast. I knew that if I stayed on the streets it wouldn’t be long before Tige would convince me to start using. I knew I’d end up exactly like him if I did.”
“Burt?”
“He said I’d have a home. I’d never had that, Sophie. Not a home of my own. He said I wouldn’t be hungry, that he’d teach me how to work with horses. I was a mess with people,” he joked but found no corresponding mirth on her face. “But I got along real good with his horses. Maybe because we both just want someone to love us.” Admitting that was embarrassing.
“I see.” Sophie frowned. “What did Burt say about Amy?”
“I didn’t tell him.” Tanner hung his head. “I didn’t think—no, I knew he wouldn’t let me go with him if he knew about her and the baby. He’d been taking me out for lunch, to church, to the ranch—stuff I’d only ever dreamed of. He had a house, a place where he could be his own boss, and I knew from his church talk that he would never beat me.”
“So you accepted.” She said it as if she’d expected nothing more.
“No. I refused at first. But when I told Amy she told me to go. She was in love with another guy by then. She didn’t want anything to do with me anymore. I figured it was the same old, same old. Nobody cared what Tanner Johns did.” He studied her, praying, hoping she could understand his desperation.
But all Sophie said was “Go on,” in that cris
p, cool voice that was not the real Sophie, not the woman he’d come to care about.
“So I thought why not take what Burt was offering. Nobody would care. I could finish school and most of all, I could get away from Tige. So I gave Amy every cent I had, all two hundred dollars.” He smiled, remembering how massive that sum had seemed. “And I walked away, all the way to Wranglers Ranch. And I’m still here.”
“But—didn’t it bother you?” Sophie wanted to know.
“Every day and every night,” Tanner told her honestly. “I’d think about that baby, wonder when his birthday was, if he could walk or talk, what color his eyes were, if he was all right. I was desperate to know about my child. So one day I went back to find out.” He stopped, the memory still powerful enough to catch his breath.
“And?”
“Tige told me Amy was gone. That’s when I knew I’d lost any chance I ever had to have the family I’d always wanted.” Tanner sat in silent shame.
He wasn’t going to tell her that Tige had beaten him within an inch of his life because he wouldn’t sell his drugs. He wasn’t going to mention that he’d lain in pain under a sheet of cardboard for two days, until Burt had found him and taken him to the hospital. He sure wasn’t going to tell her how hard it now was to keep going back to those awful streets, to keep some other kid from being as stupid as he’d been.
“I’m sorry, Tanner. No wonder you didn’t want to talk about it,” Sophie said in a very quiet voice.
“I’d talk about it nonstop if it meant he could have lived.” He rose and picked up the picture, let his forefinger trail over the face he now loved. “It should have been me who died. I deserved it. Not him.”
“I’m so sorry, Tanner.” Her hand touched his shoulder in the briefest caress.
Tanner turned into her arms, desperate to find—what? Solace? Forgiveness? Love?
Sophie hesitated, patted his shoulder and then when he would have drawn her close, eased free and moved four feet away.