Falling for the Forest Ranger

by Leigh Bale

  “Me, either.” Zoë chuckled, liking how Tanner interacted with her son. As though they were good friends.

  “Shrimp!” Tanner held up a pink piece of deli shrimp between two of his long fingers.

  “Shrimp? That’s it?” Jonah’s expectant expression wilted, replaced by a look of disappointment.

  Tanner laughed, deep and low. “Believe me, it’s enough to do the trick. Trout love shrimp.”

  The man reached for the hook on Jonah’s line and leaned near as he showed the boy how to thread the shrimp from head to tail so it wouldn’t come off easily. “Notice we’re using a single, barbless hook. Do you know why?”

  Tanner showed Jonah the difference between a barb and a hook and the child shook his head.

  “It’s because the barbs rip up the fish’s mouth and do a lot of damage. Even if we catch and release the fish, it’ll probably die later on. But a fish can survive a single-hook release pretty well.”

  “Oh.” Jonah’s brow crinkled in thought. “I don’t want to hurt the fish. I just want to catch them.”

  Zoë gave her son a loving smile. “Unfortunately, it’s impossible to not hurt the fish if you want to eat them later tonight.”

  “Don’t worry. The fish in this pond are for eating. And eating fish is good for you,” Tanner said.

  Jonah’s expression lightened and he smiled, seemingly completely trusting of Tanner’s explanation.

  “Okay, let’s go catch them.” Tanner showed Jonah how to cast his line without hooking a person from behind. Once Jonah stood happily on the dock holding his fishing rod, Tanner turned his attention to Zoë.

  Placing his hands on his hips, he eyed her with a subtle smile. “Do you need help hooking your shrimp?”

  “No, thank you.” She couldn’t conceal the happy lilt in her voice. For a short time, she could forget about the lonely nights when Jonah was asleep and she prowled around her quiet house. She could pretend they were a normal, happy family out having fun together. She could forget they worked together and might yet need to deal with some difficult issues.

  “Thanks for being kind to Jonah,” she told him.

  “You’re welcome.” Tanner handed her a piece of shrimp, his face flushing a light shade of pink.

  Holding the rod firmly with her hands, Zoë pulled the hook forward and threaded it through the bait, just as she’d watched Tanner do. She pressed her tongue to her upper lip and concentrated to get it just right.

  When she glanced up, she caught a look of surprise on his face. “What’s wrong?”

  He shook his head and smiled. “I’ve just never seen a woman hook her own bait before. You’re...you’re a bit different.”

  A laugh burst from her throat. “I hope that’s good.”

  “Oh, it is, believe me. I think you’re ready to go fishing.”

  She didn’t need help to cast her line. But when Tanner touched her hand, a current of electricity surged beneath her skin. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun.

  And when Jonah caught and landed his first fish, you’d have thought he’d cured cancer or something. Tanner wrapped his arm around Jonah’s shoulders to help disengage the fish from the hook. The two of them laughed buoyantly, sharing a father-son moment that defied any need for explanation. And seeing them like this did something to Zoë’s insides. She felt jittery, happy and sad all at the same time. She had to remind herself that she and Tanner weren’t dating—that half the time he didn’t even seem to like her. And even if they worked flat-out and tried for a relationship, it couldn’t last. By the end of August, she and Jonah would return to Portland.

  * * *

  “I caught one. I really did it.” Jonah hopped up and down with excitement.

  Tanner chuckled as he helped the boy reel in the heavy fish. “Yes, you did. I’m proud of you, son.”

  Son. The word made Tanner pause. This wasn’t his child. They were just friends, nothing more. He must remember that.

  The line dragged forward, the slack going tight as the fish tugged on the hook. Finally, they saw the fish, skimming just below the surface as it thrashed around in the shallow water. And when they landed it on shore, Tanner understood why.

  “Is this a rainbow trout?” Jonah skimmed his fingertips reverently across the smooth, shiny body.

  “Nope, this is a steelhead. Like the rainbow trout, the steelhead has an orange-red stripe along its side. But its tail is squarer, its body more silvery.” Tanner pointed out each of these characteristics for Jonah, teaching the boy lessons he’d remember the rest of his days.

  Jonah laughed and touched the inky-black spots covering the fish’s sides. “It’s got freckles.”

  “Yep, it sure does.” Tanner chuckled, enjoying himself thoroughly in spite of his promise not to bond with this little boy.

  “It’s so pretty.” The boy watched the fish with awe.

  “God has definitely made some beautiful creatures for our world,” Zoë agreed.

  Tanner stilled, listening intently to more than just the words spoken between mother and son. A feeling of reverence washed over him, so powerful that he couldn’t deny his own amazement at God’s creation. He vaguely remembered some tender moments with his own mom, who’d instilled an abiding conviction in him that the Lord had created the earth and every living creature in it. For His children.

  For him.

  As an adult, Tanner hadn’t thought about God much. Since his grandparents died when he was just a kid, he’d been by himself. And being alone had hardened him in ways he couldn’t even contemplate. He didn’t trust or give his affection away easily, but once he did, he was loyal for life.

  Maybe that was why his broken engagement with Cheryl hurt so much.

  “This is the biggest fish I ever saw,” Jonah exclaimed, an expression of pure rapture on his face.

  “It is, huh?” Tanner knelt down and turned the fish on its back before disengaging the hook.

  “Is this a seeded fish?”

  Tanner nodded and held the steelhead firmly, but gently, in his big hands. “Do you know how you can tell this is a hatchery-raised fish?”

  “Uh-uh.” The boy shook his head.

  “See this area on the back of the fish, just in front of its tail?” Tanner pointed to the area, keeping the fish in the water to avoid duress in case Jonah decided to let it go.

  “Yeah.” Jonah’s eyes widened, as if he were about to discover a miracle.

  “There used to be a small adipose fin here. The hatchery snipped it off so we can tell if this is a wild or hatchery-raised fish.”

  Jonah puckered his lips. “Ah, the poor fish. Does it hurt?”

  “I’m not a fish, so I don’t know for sure. But I suspect it doesn’t hurt more than stubbing your toe.” Tanner liked the tender side of this little boy, but he also wanted to teach Jonah that it was okay to catch and eat fish.

  “But why do we care if we can tell if the fish is wild or came from a hatchery?” Jonah’s eyes crinkled.

  “Marking the adipose fin helps us count how many fish are wild, so we can determine if our efforts at preservation are working. If not, we have to decide on some other tactics to help the fish survive. You understand?”

  The boy shook his head hard.

  “Well, it’s like this. Your mom takes you to get your measles and polio immunizations, right?” He glanced at Zoë, who stood close by, listening intently.

  Jonah’s eyes widened. “You mean my shots?”

  “Exactly. They hurt, don’t they?”

  “Yes. A lot.” Jonah rubbed his right shoulder, as if remembering his last injection.

  “But your mom does it because she knows it’ll help save your life. It’ll keep you from getting an illness that might kill you. Even though it hurts, it’s good for you.”


  Jonah glanced at his mother, who nodded. “I guess so.”

  “It’s the same with the fish. If we don’t clip their adipose fin, we wouldn’t know if they were wild or hatchery-raised. And we need to know so we can help them survive.”

  Jonah’s brows knit together as he thought this over. “Well, since we’re trying to help the fish, I guess it’s important to mark their fins.”

  “That’s right. And yearling smolts are outplanted with their adipose fins clipped.”

  “What’s a smolt?”

  Tanner chuckled and glanced at Zoë, thinking he’d never finish answering questions with this curious little mind at work. “A smolt is a young fish about four to seven inches long. Even that small, the fish begins its migration toward the Pacific Ocean where it will grow into a big fish and be able to breathe in salt water.”

  “Migration?” Jonah prodded.

  “That’s when you travel long distances to live somewhere else,” Zoë said.

  Jonah nodded. “Like us! We migrated all the way from Portland to live here in Steelhead.”

  “Something like that,” she agreed, ruffling the boy’s hair with fondness.

  Tanner smiled, liking the way Zoë patiently taught her son. Not once since knowing her had he ever heard her snap at the boy in anger.

  “And you’re trying to help save the fish, aren’t you, Mom?” Jonah looked at his mother, his little chest thrust out with pride.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “And Tanner, too.” The boy rested his hand on Tanner’s shoulder as the man knelt on the dock.

  “Yes, Tanner, too,” she said.

  Zoë whipped out a camera from her pocket. Tanner tried to move away, but Jonah almost dropped the nineteen-inch fish. Tanner caught it in his bigger hands and the boy leaned close while Zoë snapped a couple of pictures.

  A sugary-sweet feeling filled Tanner’s chest and he stood abruptly. A sensation of affection and confusion clogged his mind. He didn’t want to have his picture taken with this cute little boy. He didn’t want to love this child or enjoy Zoë’s company. In fact, he wished Zoë were like most other women. Squeamish around worms and fish. Then he wouldn’t like her so much. Being with her and Jonah left him feeling all mushy and soft inside.

  “Can we eat our fish for dinner tonight?” Jonah gave a little skip, his body squirming with excitement.

  “I guess so.” Zoë spoke vaguely.

  “Tanner can come over and eat it with us.”

  Zoë blinked and slid the camera back into her pocket. Tanner couldn’t tell if she was indifferent or upset by Jonah’s invitation.

  “Sure, you’re welcome to join us, Tanner. We’ll eat about six,” she said.

  Mother and child looked at Tanner, waiting for his reply. He wanted to accept. He really did. But he’d spent so much time working with Zoë that he’d neglected his other assignments. He needed to get caught up.

  “Sorry, but I can’t make it tonight.” He let a slow breath escape his lungs.

  Jonah didn’t bat an eye. “What about tomorrow?”

  Tanner hesitated, swallowing, clenching his hands. “Sorry, partner. I can’t.”

  Zoë’s blue eyes crinkled with misgivings. Tanner could feel her gaze resting on him like a ten-ton sledge. In her expressive eyes, he saw her doubt. As though she sensed his uncertainty. And her sensitivity to his plight only made him more uncomfortable.

  “Jonah, don’t be pushy. Tanner has other plans,” she said.

  Tanner’s hands shook. He looped his thumbs in his back pockets to keep Zoë from seeing the impact Jonah’s invitation had on him. “Maybe some other time, okay?”

  Jonah brightened at this idea. “Okay.”

  Tanner had done it now. Against all his common sense, against his better judgment, he’d opened the corral gate and chased all the livestock out into the open. So to speak.

  But maybe he was making too much of this. Sharing a meal with them now and then couldn’t hurt. It didn’t entail any long-term commitments. No falling in love. It was just dinner. Just food.

  Wasn’t it?

  “Would you like to go to church with us in the morning?” Zoë asked.

  “No!” He answered a bit too fast, but he couldn’t help it. Sitting in church seemed too domestic. And anyway, he’d depended on himself for so long that he didn’t need God anymore. The last thing he wanted was to be pressured into religion by a lovely widow and her son.

  “Why don’t we change spots and fish underneath that tree over there?” Tanner pointed across the pond, eager to put some distance between him and his fishing partners, if just for a few minutes.

  “But we’re catching fish over here,” Jonah said.

  “I know, but the sun is moving. It’s casting our shadow onto the water. Fish know a shadow can mean a predator and they stay away. If we move, we’ll have a better chance of catching your limit today.”

  And give Tanner a few minutes to calm his rattled nerves.

  Without a word, Zoë reeled in her fishing line. Ignoring the leaf litter clinging to the hem of her blue jeans, she picked up the cooler and walked with her son across the bridge.

  Jonah scurried ahead while Tanner carried the tackle box. The thud of Tanner’s boots on the wooden planks mirrored the pounding of his pulse. He knew he should have canceled this fishing trip. Now it was too late. The damage was done.

  “Jonah is so happy today. I can’t thank you enough for taking the time to fish with us,” Zoë said.

  He couldn’t respond. A lump the size of Kansas had lodged in his throat.

  “Tanner, why aren’t you married with a passel of your own kids?” she asked.

  He swallowed hard and coughed, the blunt question catching him off guard.

  “I’m sorry. That was rude of me to ask.” Her cheeks flushed a delicate rose color.

  “It’s okay. Let’s just say I wanted to be married, but it didn’t work out.”

  “Yeah, for me, either. When Derek and I got married, we planned to have five children. We wanted enough for a basketball team.” She gave a harsh laugh that revealed her disappointment.

  Tanner’s heart went out to her. Maybe she was the one woman that could understand his own heartache. “How long were you married before he died?”

  “Two short years. But it was enough for us to love one another and to have Jonah. And that’s something I’ll never regret.” She glanced Jonah’s way, the wind ruffling her short hair as she gazed lovingly at her son.

  Her words twisted inside Tanner’s stomach. How he wished he could have known that kind of devotion with someone.

  “Why haven’t you remarried?” he asked.

  She frowned. He’d turned the tables on her, and she didn’t seem to like it.

  “Truthfully?” she said.

  “Truthfully.”

  She chewed the end of her pinkie finger, a characteristic he was fast learning meant she was pensive about something. “I’ve been so busy these past few years that it hasn’t been a priority. I had Jonah, school and bills to worry about. Then I got busy with work, but I thrive on my career.”

  “Do you think you could ever love again?” Now, why did he ask that? He was digging deep here, being just as nosy as she’d been with him.

  She met his eyes. “I hope so. It’s taken a long time for my heart to heal, and I doubt I’ll ever get over losing Derek. I don’t think you can recover from that. But life is awfully lonely when you don’t share it with someone else.”

  Tanner knew that firsthand. He wanted to share his life, but he just hadn’t met the right woman. Maybe he never would. And that thought left him feeling hollow and bereft.

  Chapter Seven

  The next morning, Zoë slept in later than usual. She didn’t need to rush
around before she and Jonah had to be at church at eleven. She enjoyed the slower pace. Standing inside her kitchen, she wore her fluffy bathrobe and blue slippers. Jonah was still asleep. She’d taken advantage of the opportunity to get a few things accomplished before he woke up.

  Tidy packages of salmon filets rested on her countertop. She’d wrapped each steak in plastic and tin foil, to protect the meat from freezer burn. Tanner had been kind enough to clean Jonah’s steelhead. All Zoë had needed to do was cut the meat into manageable sizes for broiling.

  As she placed the filets into the freezer, she kept enough out for dinner that evening. She wished Tanner had accepted Jonah’s invitation to join them.

  Maybe she shouldn’t have invited him to attend Sunday meetings with her and Jonah. As a diligent Christian, it was her job to do missionary work. She liked Tanner. A lot. But she also didn’t want to appear pushy. They were coworkers, after all.

  By eleven-fifteen, she and Jonah sat quietly on a pew inside the little chapel, listening to a sermon on keeping the Sabbath day holy. Though she tried to focus on the message, she felt encased by restless energy. Her thoughts kept returning to Tanner and the awesome day they’d spent together fishing. She’d see him tomorrow at the office and couldn’t wait. Work had become more than a fun way to earn a living. With Tanner, it was an adventure she craved.

  Following the meeting, she greeted Debbie Milan in the outer foyer. She’d met Debbie the first day she’d attended church.

  “Hi, Zoë.” Debbie waved as she shuffled her three young children down the hall to Sunday school class.

  Zoë gave a friendly nod, enjoying the way Debbie’s rosy cheeks plumped with her smile.

  “Hi there, Billie.” Jonah greeted Debbie’s son, who was the same age as he was.

  “Look what I got.” Billie pulled a plastic snake from his pants pocket. With a bevy of shrill laughter, the two boys scurried down the hall, their heads close together.

  “Billie!” Debbie called after her son, but it did no good. The boys moved too fast for their moms to catch them.

  Debbie shook her head. “There goes madness and mayhem. I feel sorry for their poor Sunday school teacher today.”