by Leigh Bale
“You can count on me,” he said.
Oh, I certainly hope so.
The thought came unbidden to her mind, startling her with its intensity. She’d been so strong for so long that she didn’t dare count on anyone but herself and God. Maybe that could change now. Maybe she’d learned what the Lord wanted her to know, and now He wanted her to learn something else.
Like how to love again.
As Tanner turned and walked down the hallway toward Jonah, Zoë stood there, frozen to the floor. Tanner paused and spoke to her son for just a moment. His deep voice filtered through the air, but she couldn’t make out his words. In response, Jonah’s happy yell made her blink. Obviously, Tanner had told the boy that he would take him on the father-son outing. Jonah had gotten his way.
Zoë realized how much she missed being able to rely on a man’s strength when she needed his help around the house. Or when she felt blue and had no one but the Lord to confide her troubles to.
Not since her husband had Zoë felt physically, mentally or spiritually drawn to another man. But why did it have to be Tanner Bohlman who made her heart sing?
It didn’t seem to matter that she’d be leaving at the end of August or that Tanner didn’t have faith in God. Whether she liked it or not, whether she was ready or not, she was falling for Tanner Bohlman. Hook. Line. And sinker.
Chapter Nine
“So you work with Zoë Lawton?”
“Yes, that’s right.” Tanner didn’t look up, concentrating instead on the long, thin sticks of pine he’d been whittling with his pocketknife. He’d been hammered with questions from the man sitting next to him since he and Jonah arrived at Camp Fleshermann four hours earlier.
Paul Carter. The man Jonah hadn’t wanted to take him on the father-son outing.
Trying not to be rude, Tanner continued peeling the outer bark off the sticks, then chiseled a sharp point on their ends. Almost done now. Then he and Jonah could pierce their hot dogs and roast them over the campfire.
Paul shifted his seat on the enormous fallen tree trunk, preparing a stick for himself. As much as he tried, Tanner couldn’t seem to get rid of the guy or figure out why Paul had made him his new best friend. Obviously, Paul was interested in Zoë, but why did he keep questioning Tanner about her? The incessant inquiries irritated Tanner—no denying it.
Laughter and a cacophony of male voices filled the air. Structured chaos settled over the picnic area as approximately thirty fathers and their sons, ranging from toddlers to teenagers, milled around in preparation for their noon meal. Everyone was having fun.
Except Paul’s sons. The two boys sat off to one side, trying to prepare their own hot-dog sticks. One of them, a gangly kid, perhaps eleven years old, came over and stood beside his father.
“My knife’s too dull, Dad. Can you sharpen my stick for me?”
“Nah, you can do it. Keep at it.” Paul brushed the boy aside before focusing back on Tanner. “Do you spend a lot of time with Zoë?”
“I work with her, so we see each other several times a week.”
“Have you ever gone out with her?” Paul’s small eyes narrowed as he waited for Tanner’s response.
“You mean on a date?”
“Yeah.”
“Nope.” Tanner waved the sticks in the air to get Jonah’s attention.
The boy stopped chasing Billie Milan and came running. He stumbled over a rock along the way, catching himself just before he went sprawling in the pine needles littering the ground.
“Whoa! You okay?” Tanner clutched the child’s arm, his heart beating fast. He’d feel rotten if he had to explain to Zoë that Jonah had gotten hurt while in his care.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Jonah sounded breathless with excitement.
Tanner chuckled, figuring the boy would collapse with exhaustion by the end of the day. “I’ve got our sticks ready for roasting. How about you go and get us two hot dogs? Don’t worry about the plates or buns right now. We’ll get those later. Just get the dogs.”
He would have given Jonah one of the sticks to carry but feared the boy might fall and injure himself on the sharp point.
Without a word, Jonah took off like a shot, racing over to the picnic tables. Tanner shook his head and laughed. He’d definitely been smart not to give Jonah one of the pointed sticks.
The camp leaders had set coolers on the tables, filled with various flavors of soda pop and packages of hot dogs, condiments, buns and potato chips. Though the summer sunshine blazed down on them, the cool mountain breeze had forced them to pull on warm jackets. It didn’t matter. Everyone laughed and chatted, ignoring the cold.
As Jonah bounced around the tables, Paul’s gaze raked the active little boy with repugnance. “That kid’s sure a nuisance, isn’t he?”
Something bristled inside Tanner. “Not to me.”
Paul blinked in surprise. “You really like him?”
“I certainly do.” Tanner didn’t hesitate to answer, realizing he told the absolute truth. In fact, it irritated him that Paul didn’t like Jonah. Besides being incredibly cute, Jonah also had a guileless, winning way about him. Tanner figured it took a crabby disposition for someone not to like the boy.
“Hmm. I like his mother okay, but I’d rather do without her annoying brat,” Paul said.
Tanner’s hands clenched. He didn’t like this man calling Jonah a brat. Not at all. But he was an outsider here and didn’t want to start a fight. Instead, he bit his tongue.
“Jonah’s not a brat. He’s a wonderful little boy. We’re lucky to have him and Zoë in our congregation.” Blaine Milan spoke from across the campfire where he knelt on one knee as he laid more wood on the flames.
Thank you! Tanner knew there was a good reason he liked Blaine. “I agree. Jonah’s smart and lively. He’ll make a good man someday.”
“I’ve been thinking about asking Zoë out. On a real date,” Paul continued, ignoring Blaine’s frown of disapproval.
“That right?” A defensive tingle rose along Tanner’s spine. He had no right to tell Zoë whom to date, but he sure didn’t want her going out with someone like Paul Carter. The guy seemed to be a playboy. Always on the hunt for another conquest. No commitment. No caring. Tanner wanted to mention his misgivings to Zoë but didn’t know how to do so without sounding jealous. Which he wasn’t.
Well, maybe a little.
“Dad, I dropped my hot dog in the dirt. And Tim broke my stick.” Josh, Paul’s nine-year-old son, held out the thin pieces of pine. The boy sniffed, his eyes red from crying.
Tanner noticed the thin shaft of the stick had never been sturdy enough to support a hot dog in the first place. Josh needed help from his dad, but it didn’t appear he’d get it anytime soon.
“Go get another stick and leave me alone,” Paul snapped, barely sparing his son a glance.
The boy flinched, looking hurt but not surprised by his father’s anger, then backed away cautiously.
“You got any more kids?” Tanner asked in casual conversation, his gaze briefly locking with Blaine’s as they communicated in a glance their disgust for Paul. But since this was a church function, they had to be nice. They had to be Christian and love everyone. Or at least try.
Tanner was trying very hard. He really was.
“Just these two, thank goodness. They each have different mothers. I like the women fine, but the kids get on my nerves. They’re both clingy, like their moms.” Paul jerked his thumb toward his two sons. Without an effective way to cook their food, they’d resorted to eating their hot dogs cold.
Tanner clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to help the boys. They weren’t his responsibility, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. When Tim grimaced at his raw food, Tanner stood and found two more sturdy sticks. In no time, he had the wood whittled and ready to use.
“Here you go, boys. Now you can cook your hot dogs, but be careful not to fall on the sharp points.” He handed the slim branches of pine to the kids.
“Gee, thanks, Tanner!” Josh showed a toothless smile that looked a lot like his dad’s.
“Yeah, thanks,” Tim chimed in, his voice sounding stunned, as though he couldn’t believe someone had actually helped him.
The two boys carried their sticks over to the hot-dog table where Jonah stood laughing at something Billie had said.
“You didn’t need to do that. They’re old enough to look out for themselves,” Paul grumbled.
“No, they’re not.” Maybe Tanner shouldn’t have said that, but he wouldn’t take it back.
A flash of anger filled Paul’s eyes and he opened his mouth to respond. Tanner didn’t give him the chance. He turned and walked to the other side of the fire, biting back an angry retort about rotten parents. He must remain civil on this outing; otherwise, Zoë might hear about it later. Tanner didn’t want her upset. She’d entrusted him with her child, and he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize her confidence in him.
To soothe his jangled nerves, Tanner avoided Paul and focused on Jonah. The boy skipped over to the fire. Tanner chuckled. Jonah didn’t know how to walk anywhere. He scampered, ran, sprinted, hopped, scurried and dashed. But never walked.
“Here they are.” Looking enormously pleased with himself, Jonah held up two raw hot dogs with his bare hands.
Tanner eyed the dogs, together with Jonah’s grimy fingers, and didn’t bat an eye. He figured it was his own fault for telling the boy not to worry about plates right now. And the germs should cook off just fine.
Instead, he wrapped an arm around the child’s shoulders and helped him thread the meat onto one pointy stick. “If you do it lengthwise like this, your dog won’t fall off into the fire. But if you poke the stick into the middle, you’ll be more likely to lose your dog.”
“Okay.” Jonah nodded, soaking up every word Tanner said.
Just like fishing, Tanner realized he could show this boy a lot of things. It felt good to share his knowledge with Jonah, even if it was as simple as how to thread a hot dog onto a stick. In Tanner’s mind, this was what fathers were for. Quality time was important, but so was quantity time. The thought of Jonah ending up with a father like Paul left Tanner feeling troubled.
Jonah sat beside Tanner on the log, scooting together as they held their roasters over the flames.
“Not too close. You don’t want your dog to burn,” Tanner cautioned in a gentle voice.
Jonah moved his stick, responding cheerfully. “When I’m done with this one, I’m gonna have another one and another one. I’m gonna eat a zillion hot dogs today.”
Tanner felt the little boy’s shoulder brush against his arm and a feeling of protective love overwhelmed him. There was no place on earth he’d rather be right now, except perhaps with Zoë. “A zillion hot dogs? You think your tummy can hold that many?”
Paul hovered nearby, a dark scowl creasing his forehead. No doubt he wished Jonah would leave so he could continue milking Tanner for information about Zoë. Tanner just ignored him.
“Sure! I can eat two all by myself. Maybe more. Then I’m gonna have ice cream. Mom said today’s special, so I can eat anything I want.”
Tanner could just imagine the feeling of freedom that permission would give a child, and he couldn’t help appreciating Zoë’s savvy mothering skills. She was the kind of mother Tanner wanted for his own children.
No, he’d better close the door on that thought. And fast.
“That’s right. She did tell me you could eat whatever you wanted today. What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?”
“Chocolate.”
“I like strawberry and rocky road.” Tanner kept up a steady stream of conversation with the boy, hoping Paul would take the hint and get lost.
By early afternoon, Tanner had been brought forward as the expert on fishing techniques. Blaine Milan roped him into offering a mini-class for all the fathers and sons. It felt good to be wanted and needed by this group of men.
“You’re good with the kids. Maybe we can take our sons fishing together sometime,” Tom Watson said.
Our sons. Strange how everyone seemed to have accepted Tanner and how easily he’d fallen into the role of Jonah’s father. Didn’t they all know Zoë was moving back to Portland soon?
“Yeah, that would be fun.” It would be fun—even if it would probably never happen. Tanner’s ears burned, but he couldn’t deny he liked the friendship the other men offered. He liked being here with Jonah.
The dads soon spread out around Fleshermann Lake with their sons. Boys of all sizes tossed their fishing lines into the water, laughing and talking so loudly that Tanner doubted they’d catch many trout. But Jonah wasn’t disappointed by his lack of fish. He told everyone that would listen about the steelhead he’d caught with Tanner and his mom at Kids’ Creek Park in town.
“It was this big.” The boy held out his arms in an exaggerated stretch.
“Wow, I never caught a fish that big before,” Billie said.
“It’s because Tanner uses special bait.”
“What is it?”
Jonah’s forehead creased in a serious frown. “I can’t tell you. It’s a secret.”
Tanner chuckled. “I think it’s okay if you tell Billie.”
Jonah looked doubtful. “Really?”
Tanner couldn’t resist. “As long as he promises not to tell anyone else.”
Billie shook his head, a solemn expression on his face. “I won’t tell no one.”
“Okay.” The two boys crowded close together as Jonah whispered the secret in Billie’s ear.
Blaine stood close by, watching the children. “So you gonna tell me this secret of yours?”
Looking at his friend, Tanner realized Blaine really wanted to know. He shrugged but kept his voice low so the little boys wouldn’t overhear and think he’d betrayed their confidence. “It’s just deli shrimp. No big deal. But it makes the boys feel special to share a secret.”
Blaine laughed. “Yeah, I remember when I was their age and having a secret was a lot of fun.”
By late afternoon, they reeled in their lines to go back to the camp area. Tanner noticed Josh and Tim fishing alone. Paul sat on the other side of the pond, his heels resting on a tree stump, a baseball cap pulled low across his eyes while he took a nap. Tanner was half tempted to get Blaine and Ted to help him dump Paul in the lake.
Blaine walked past, noticed Tanner’s gaze and stopped to chat. “Can you believe that guy?”
Tanner just shook his head. He wasn’t big on gossip and didn’t want to say something that might ruffle anyone’s feathers.
Ted joined them, his round face flushed with sunburn. “I wish he’d get into the spirit of this outing and spend some time with his sons. They’re at a critical age, and Tim’s been getting into trouble at school. Paul could do a lot to prevent us from losing those boys when they get older.”
Tanner agreed but wasn’t about to contribute to the discussion. He didn’t have kids of his own and didn’t feel like an authority. But he figured an absentee dad had a lot to do with his kids falling into crime and bad behavior. The thought of Jonah becoming a miscreant when he became a teenager caused Tanner to inhale a sharp breath. If only he could do something now to stop that from happening.
Blaine nudged Tanner’s arm. “You’re not gonna let Paul ask Zoë out, are you?”
Tanner frowned. “It’s not my business.”
“Why don’t you make it your business?” Ted said.
“How?”
Blaine pursed his lips together, as though this was obvious. “Ask her out first. You’d be a fool not to.”
“Has she said something
about it?” Tanner asked.
“Nope. My wife is good friends with her, but Zoë hasn’t said a word to her, either. You’re a nice guy, Tanner. The right kind of man to make Zoë happy. She’s amazing and you’d be crazy to let some other guy take her.”
Hearing his own thoughts verbalized caused Tanner’s stomach to clench. “She’s leaving for Portland at the end of the summer. I don’t want to get involved and then lose her.”
“So, ask her not to go.”
The two men didn’t wait for Tanner’s reply before they turned and headed down the narrow path to a different fishing spot. Tanner stared after them, thinking they were both crazy. He couldn’t just ask Zoë to give up her career and stay with him in Steelhead. Not when they’d never even talked about dating. And for that matter, if they did get involved, Zoë might want him to quit his job and move to Portland. Tanner wasn’t sure he’d agree to something like that, so what made him think Zoë might do it for him? And how could he ask her to leave the job she loved? He wouldn’t know unless they at least talked about it. And they were a long way from having that kind of serious conversation.
Later, as Tanner paired up with Jonah in the three-legged race and then the watermelon-eating contest, he had the time of his life. But his thoughts kept drifting back to what Blaine and Ted had said. He’d be crazy to let another man take Zoë. But this wasn’t a game. This was life. His life. And it hurt when things went wrong.
By the end of the day, Tanner drove Jonah home. The dusky sunlight glinted off the windshield as the boy fell asleep in the truck. Jonah’s golden head fell back against the seat, his mouth open wide as he breathed deeply.
Tanner smiled at the innocent trust of this child, enjoying the quiet murmur of the truck engine after such a busy day.
Back in town, he pulled into the driveway at Zoë’s house and carried the sleeping boy inside. As Tanner followed Zoë back to Jonah’s room and tucked the little guy into bed, one thought repeated in Tanner’s brain. He should never have accompanied Jonah on the father-son outing today. He shouldn’t have whittled sticks, cooked hot dogs, chatted with the dads or taught the boys to fish. Because now, Tanner only wanted more.