Healing the Lawman's Heart

by Ruth Logan Herne

  “Thanks, Captain.”

  “No thanks needed. A great record and clean arrests earned you the spot. And, Reddington?”

  “Yes?”

  “You’re on my prayer list. Hang in there.”

  Tanner had no clue what to say to that, but the captain hung up before he needed to respond.

  Prayer list?

  Yeah, right. Good luck with that. He drove past several nice-looking churches, purposely ignored them, and headed for the southern tip of the lake.

  He and his sister, Neda, had been used as pawns between his parents for years. No matter how much he prayed as a kid, nothing got better in the back-and-forth of court dates, custody battles and child support hearings.

  He’d learned to stand on his own two feet and avoid drama. And if he’d ever wondered about the essence of God, the humility of faith as an adult?

  It all went by the wayside when Ashley and little Solomon breathed their last breaths. Lingering thoughts and doubts vanished. He’d face the world alone, like he’d been doing for a very long time. He was okay with that.

  * * *

  Julia saw Tanner’s name in her phone display that evening. Her pulse jumped, because why would he be calling her now? Maybe the gals at the café were right. Maybe— “Tanner. Hi. What’s up?”

  His reply pretty much dashed Laura’s and Tina’s notions like waves on the eastern shore. “I’ve got a Tuesday night work conflict that just came up, so I was wondering if we could do teardown on Wednesday evening instead?”

  A work conflict that came up on Sunday? What were the odds of that? So much for thinking she saw a glimmer of interest back at the café. “No worries. Dad and I will charge in on Tuesday as planned and you take care of things at work.”

  He sighed, a king-size one tinged with amusement, and she almost found herself smiling. “I’m not ditching you. We’ve got a new task force forming and the initial meeting has been scheduled for Tuesday night, so if you know anything about my commander or my job, when they say jump? I jump. So could we possibly move the demolition of the current interior walls to Wednesday night? Because I intend to be there.”

  “I’m on call Wednesday evening, one of the doctors is manning the Wednesday night crew, so we can’t. And like I said, we should be fine, Tanner. There’s no reason for you to feel guilty. We’ve got this.”

  Silent moments stretched between them. She could picture those deep gray eyes reading between the lines, quietly assessing the situation. “Then I’ll catch the next round of work,” he said.

  “Perfect.” Arguing with him would be rude, and they could use his help. Being stubborn about his initial reaction wasn’t in the clinic’s best interests. And the fact that he was being nicer about the whole endeavor was a plus. Yes, she’d let her imagination get the better of her, thinking he was calling for more personal reasons. Her problem, not his.

  “Dad and Luke Campbell will be there Thursday morning. I’ve got an early appointment, but then I’ll be there later in the day.”

  “Luke, the deputy sheriff?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll join their crew, then.”

  “All right.” She hung up just as Martin and Connor burst through the side door.

  “No babies yet!” Connor announced as he kicked one boot left and the other boot right. “Grandpa looked at her and said it might be a while before they come, but that Rosalita was going to have her calf tonight and if it wasn’t too late, I could go out to the barn and see it.”

  “Because we can’t be up late with school tomorrow.” Martin hung his coat up, put his boots by the fire and grabbed a cookie. “I want to make sure I get to bed on time so I don’t feel tired in the morning.”

  Her boys were polar opposites. Connor exploded onto every scene, ready to jump in, ignoring danger, laughing in the face of adversity.

  Seven-year-old Martin quietly surveyed life from a distance, assessed everything around him, and then made a well-thought-out decision with as little risk as he could find. Some days they got along. Others? Not so much.

  “Connor, put your boots where they belong, please.”

  He rolled his eyes, waited until she asked him a second time, then made an elaborate show of stowing the boots, a task that could have been completed in under ten seconds if he’d avoided the drama. Connor thrived on drama, as long as he was the one causing it.

  Martin picked up his e-reader, curled up in the corner of Grandpa’s reclining love seat and started to read.

  Connor raced to the lower level, pulled out train tracks and construction worker toys, and built the noisiest city he could fit between Marty’s furniture.

  Martin went on reading, oblivious.

  They were like night and day, but Martin had been especially sensitive to his father’s abandonment. Was that his nature or simply because he was older and more aware? How would they handle this new development? How could she make it better for them?

  First, she had to talk to Vic calmly and rationally. Then she’d throw something.

  With God, all things are possible.

  She knew that. Believed it. But she’d witnessed medical emergencies that defied the odds and went bad. She’d seen behavior unbecoming of God’s people. She’d treated victims of violence with no explanation of why humans could do such things to one another.

  She believed in God, and she was determined to pull her strength from him, but the actions of men were more questionable. Her job was to help her boys grow up as best she could. And pray. But first she’d have to call Vic to see what they could work out.

  Once the boys were asleep, she took the phone upstairs. Her hope that he wouldn’t answer and she could leave a message was dashed at his quick hello.

  “Vic, it’s Julia.”

  “Well, it’s about time. You got a new number.”

  She wasn’t about to launch into an explanation of why she was calling from her father’s phone. “The old one still works but we had some storm damage so I’m using this one for now.”

  “Did you get my letter?”

  The question surprised her. “No.”

  “Tomorrow, then. My attorney advised me to send a registered letter to show my intent, which means if you don’t show up with the boys, you’re in contempt of the visitation agreement. It seemed prudent when I didn’t hear from you.”

  Impatient. Cryptic to the point of rude. Old feelings rushed back. He’d always wanted the upper hand. It was his way or the highway. Why hadn’t she seen that sooner?

  “Don’t you think it would be better to reintroduce yourself to the boys a little at a time?” she suggested. “Call them. Do a face-to-face computer chat with them. Talk to them. Martin remembers you but Connor only knows you from your picture on their wall. I think that would be better for them, Vic. Don’t you?”

  He let her know in harsh words that he had court-appointed rights. “And furthermore,” he reamed her, “I’m not the one that moved three hours away. That was all you, Julia, so just the idea that I’m required to meet you halfway ticks me off. I shouldn’t have to step foot out my door, but now I’ll spend an entire evening driving across the state and back. So don’t talk to me about easy. You gave that all up when you moved so far away.”

  “Just looking to manage crowd control,” she answered smoothly. “I didn’t need our boys running into any of your ex-girlfriends when half the town knew what was going on. Making their life less awkward was the goal.”

  “Babying them is more like it, which is exactly your style. It’s a good thing I made sure we stopped at two because I guarantee that’s all you could handle.”

  His words fired a direct shot on her heart. She’d lost their first baby, a tiny girl, miscarried midway through the pregnancy. The devastating loss left a hollow ache in its wake, wondering what her daughte
r would have been like. Would she like dancing or prefer soccer? Would she sing off-key like Grandpa or join the choir? She would never know these things about her, gone so quickly. Never cuddled, never rocked, never nurtured at her mother’s breast.

  And then Vic announced after Connor’s birth that he’d gone through surgery to prevent more children without consulting her. He’d decided two kids were plenty, and her dreams of having a little girl someday disappeared. She choked back a heated response, knowing he wanted to make her angry, but refusing him that satisfaction. “This call isn’t about my parenting. It’s about compromise.”

  “Well, compromise this, Julia.” Then Vic hung up on her.

  She stared at the phone, drew a breath and sat on the edge of the bed in the spare room. The short conversation hit multiple emotional buttons, exactly how Vic wanted it to go.

  But you don’t have to give him that control anymore. Look forward. Seize the days. Pray for him. And break something quietly if you must.

  That thought made Tuesday night’s demolition much more attractive.

  Chapter Five

  Surprise and welcome marked Julia’s face when Tanner walked into the construction site on Tuesday evening. “You’re here.”

  Her sweet expression made pushing command for an earlier meeting time worth the questioning looks Tanner got from his boss. “I explained what I was doing tonight, how it would benefit the community, and the captain moved the meeting up an hour. So I’m here.”

  She looked amazed that he would plead his case to his bosses, and that made him wonder how often Julia Harrison had taken a backseat to others. Too often, from what he’d gleaned so far. “Where’s your dad?”

  “Problem with a cow. If all goes well he should be here later.”

  “He let you come here alone?” Protective hackles rose along the back of Tanner’s neck because that wasn’t just dumb, it was dangerous.

  “It is quite possible that my father thought you were still coming.” She made a face like a kid caught in a cookie jar, then offered her explanation. “It’s this deadline thing for the grant. We have to be at certain points by scheduled dates or there is no grant money, so I can’t afford to let things get off track.”

  “This is not a safe area,” Tanner countered. “And that is magnified by a woman being here alone. At night. Are you always this stubborn?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. It’s a family trait, I’m afraid.”

  He recognized the truth in that, but a big burly weapon-carrying cop like Zach stood a much better chance at self-defense than a pretty blonde woman with great eyes. “Promise me you won’t do this again. I get that I hurt your feelings by thinking this wasn’t the best location for your clinic—”

  “Which wasn’t your business.”

  “True. But we need to call a truce if we’re going to work together. You need to trust me.” The hesitancy in her eyes said that wasn’t as easy as he’d hoped it would be. “And I need to trust your goals to help women when they need it.”

  She met his gaze. “That’s a funny way of putting it.”

  “Not from my point of view. So here. Tonight.” He picked up a dust mask and handed her one. “Point me to the right wall. I’m in the right frame of mind to break things and pretty eager to get started.”

  Julia handed him one of the bigger sledgehammers once they had the masks and gloves on, and made a fierce face. “Me, too.”

  The face made him laugh. “We have more in common than we might have thought. I like that.”

  “Ditto.” She looked up at him, over the mask, eyes bright. For long, noisy ticks of the old wall clock he stood, looking down, watching her, wondering when his heart had started beating again, but glad it did. “Ready?” She tipped her head toward the wall.

  Ready for the feelings she evoked? Ready for a chance to move forward? He wasn’t quite sure.

  He moved to the wall, raised the hammer and let the blunt force of heavy metal strike the wallboard. It cracked instantly, spewing a cloud of dust into the air. “I’m ready.”

  She laughed, moved to her wall and mimicked his stance. It took her more than one blow to create a similar-sized hole, but when she did, she aimed a look of triumph his way. “I think we’ve got this.”

  And smiling at her, he couldn’t disagree.

  * * *

  “Are you still there?” Julia peered through the dust-filled air an hour later.

  “I’m here. Six feet to go. And if you’re getting tired, put the hammer down.”

  “And pick up a shovel,” she noted. “I’m tired, my upper body is clearly not meant for hours of sledgehammer work, but I can’t wait to see the new walls in place! I’ll load the wheelbarrow for a bit.”

  “That’s not resting.”

  “A change is as good as a rest.”

  Tanner moved closer, grasped her dusty shoulders and looked down. The skip of her pulse said she liked making eye contact with Tanner, even through dust-filled air without her glasses on. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “One of my favorite sayings, son.” Marty came through the front door just in time to catch Tanner’s comment and note their proximity.

  “Sorry, sir.” Tanner dropped his hands from Julia’s shoulders. Was he apologizing for the words or his closeness to her? The little wink he sent her way said the apology was totally word related. A trickle of joy made her dip her chin to hide her smile.

  “Don’t be,” Marty said as he set down a toolbox. “It’s one of those things farmers say because the work never ends.”

  “I do believe your son has mentioned that a number of times. And then he went and married a farmer.”

  “One of God’s little ironies.” Marty grabbed a face mask and looked around, impressed. “You guys aced this.”

  “Well, cleanup isn’t going to be a fifteen-minute job,” Julia noted, but she smiled at Tanner. “We discovered this is a great way to take out our angst.”

  “And a good way to bond,” Tanner inserted, and when she looked up there was no mistaking the meaning in his eyes. He slanted her a smile and turned back to the wall. “But I’ve still got some work ahead of me, so if you’ll excuse me...” He raised the hammer against what was left of the wall while Julia and Marty filled and dumped the wheelbarrow multiple times. By the time nine o’clock rolled around, they were a mess, but the room was now wide-open and all the debris had been swept out.

  “Done. And exhausted.” Julia tossed them their jackets and put hers on before she perched on the edge of a half wall. “I’m so glad I have tomorrow morning off. It will take that long to get this stuff out of my hair.”

  “You know when you add water to plaster dust, you get cement,” Tanner said.

  “No!”

  Round-eyed, she stared up at him until he grinned. She muttered something under her breath but wasn’t too upset with him as she stood. “Are the doctors in your practice really working construction here tomorrow night?” he asked in surprise. “I thought the grant money pretty much covered getting everything done.”

  “One of the grant requirements was to find volunteer labor for at least fifty percent of the project. It’s not so easy to find volunteer labor these days, so I kind of hinted that the staff and their families would do it.” She winced slightly. “A lot of our skilled retirees go south for the winter and won’t be back until construction’s complete, so I probably could have thought that part through a little better. Or asked for more time.”

  Marty chimed in. “By the way, if you’re around Thursday morning, I’m buying lunch for anyone on hand. Julia’s got an appointment first thing, but I know there’s a couple of us showing up here to work. Laura and Tina could use some extra winter business at The Pelican’s Nest and there’s always fresh lemon cream pie on Thursday.”

  “I�
��m available.”

  “Good!” Marty motioned to the door. “Are you two okay with locking up?”

  “I’ve got it, Dad.” Julia held up the keys. “Thank you for getting over here. We’d still be shoveling if you hadn’t been able to make it.”

  “Maybe.” Marty aimed a knowing look at the two of them as he moved outside. “Although you two seemed to have everything under control. See you Thursday, Tanner.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “See you at home, Dad.”

  Julia followed Tanner out the door. He waited, blocking the wind, while she fumbled with the key. Between her tired hands and the dark night, something wasn’t working right and she was just about to growl in frustration when Tanner’s arms came around from behind her. “Let me help.”

  His hands took the key from hers and he slid it into the lock with careful deliberation. But it wasn’t the key that had Julia’s attention. It was the feel of his leather jacket beneath her cheek...the scent of sawdust...the rugged shoulders, sheltering her from the late winter wind.

  Hope stole over her. She tried to fight the emotion, but couldn’t. It began in his gentle, strong manner and was nurtured by his serious gaze and his bright smile. He’d seemed downright prickly last week, but she saw none of that now.

  But you did see it, so don’t be fooled. People aren’t always what they seem.

  She’d found that out the hard way, but she didn’t want to think of past mistakes. Not with Tanner so close. Tanner finished locking the door, dropped the key into her hand and tipped his gaze down from over her shoulder. “We’re good.”

  Her breath caught, her eyes fixed on his, and when his gaze strayed to her mouth, mixed emotions fought for control. He put one broad, gentle hand to her cheek, then smiled. “It’s cold out here. Let’s head home.”

  They walked toward the parking lot together.

  His words reminded her of old dreams gone awry. A home, filled with children and a set of loving parents. Was she shortsighted to think the dream could still exist? And if a woman was cast aside by one man, what were the odds she could build a lasting, loving relationship with another?