Healing the Widower's Heart

by Susan Anne Mason

  A flush moved up his neck, while his gaze slid down to his clenched hands.

  Suspicion flickered. “You have told Zach you love him, haven’t you, Mr. Porter?”

  “I’m his father. He knows how I feel.”

  She leaned forward over the desk to emphasize her point. “Everyone needs to hear the words—no matter how much you think it’s understood. Especially children.”

  Visibly agitated, Nathan stood to pace the small enclosure. “It’s not easy to profess love to a child who constantly screams ‘I hate you.’”

  Compassion welled within her, and inexplicably Paige found herself wanting to comfort this man, to ease his pain in some small way.

  “Of course it isn’t easy,” she said. “But you, as the adult, have to rise above his outbursts. Sometimes a simple hug during a tantrum will defuse the situation. And right now Zach needs all the hugs he can get.”

  Nathan stopped pacing, his back to her. His rigid stance and lack of response told Paige there was something much deeper blocking his relationship with his son.

  She jotted down a few notes on her pad of paper before posing another difficult question. “I have to ask, Mr. Porter...were there problems in your marriage?”

  His back muscles visibly stiffened before he turned to pin her with an icy glare. “That is a very personal question, Miss McFarlane. And quite presumptuous, I might add.”

  Heat crept into her cheeks, but she didn’t allow her gaze to falter. “If you want to help Zach, you need to be honest about the state of your relationship, both before and after your wife’s death.”

  Paige could almost feel the war of emotions surging underneath the surface as Nathan contemplated her words. Finally, his shoulders slumped, and his whole body seemed to deflate. “I will do whatever it takes to help my son.”

  She offered him a smile of encouragement as he resumed his seat, and waited for him to speak.

  He stared at the floor for several moments, then at last raised his head to look at her. “Cynthia and I separated six months before she died.”

  Paige’s stomach dipped. Poor Zach. How much upheaval had he endured in his young life? “I see.” She schooled her expression, hoping her dismay didn’t show. “Was Zach living with his mother during this time?”

  “Yes. She moved out and got an apartment.”

  Odd. Usually the mother and child stayed in the family home. “How often did you get to see Zach during the separation?”

  Again Nathan’s gaze slid away. “About once a month.”

  Paige blinked. “Why so little?”

  She thought she might be the recipient of another glare, but he only sighed. “Sometimes Cynthia would cancel our weekend plans at the last minute. Sometimes an emergency would come up at work, and I’d have to cancel. It was hard to keep our schedules straight.”

  Paige’s heart went out to the poor child caught up in that type of ping-pong match. “I imagine Zach’s behavior was less than ideal during your allotted visits.”

  One dark eyebrow rose. “That’s an understatement.”

  “Which made you dread the time you spent with him instead of looking forward to it.”

  “Pretty much.”

  Now they were getting somewhere. “I’d like you to look at your separation from Zach’s point of view for a minute. His mother takes him away from his home, from everything familiar. Then every time his dad is supposed to come and see him, the plans fall apart. And when they do spend time together, his father seems like he can’t wait to leave. Zach comes to the conclusion that his father doesn’t want to see him and doesn’t care about him. A lot of anger and resentment builds up. Compound that with his mother’s sudden death, and quite frankly I’m surprised Zach’s not a lot worse off than he is.”

  Nathan’s silence spoke volumes. She decided not to push for anything further at this point. “Thank you, Mr. Porter. I have a much better understanding of Zach’s emotional state now. I should be able to help him work through some issues. May I ask how long you’re planning to stay at Wyndermere?”

  “I haven’t decided. A month—maybe more. But Zach will attend camp the whole summer.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose as if trying to ease a headache. “There’s something else you should probably know. Zach’s behavior at school got him suspended twice. And Zach’s maternal grandparents have threatened to sue for custody if his behavior hasn’t improved by September. I don’t think they’ll do anything over the summer, but just in case, I wanted you to be aware.”

  Paige paused to digest this information. “Good to know. I’ll do my best to help Zach and will keep you informed on his progress.” She rose and offered her hand, praying he couldn’t tell that she felt as off-kilter as a new colt.

  In one fluid motion, he stood and engulfed her palm in his. A tremor raced up her arm as his intense gaze held hers. The stark sorrow in their depths stalled the air in her lungs.

  “I’ll be grateful for any improvement you can bring about, Miss McFarlane.”

  With a slight nod, he released her hand and quietly left the room.

  Paige slumped into her chair and let the air whoosh out of her lungs as she lifted a silent plea Heavenward. Without divine assistance, she feared she would never be able to heal the broken spirits of either Zach or his father.

  * * *

  The fresh air came as a relief after the confinement of Paige McFarlane’s office. Nathan’s long strides ate up the path as he headed toward the lake, consumed with the need for physical activity to release his pent-up emotions.

  As he followed the lakeside, his brisk walk changed to a jog. He focused on the air rushing in and out of his lungs, and the sting of his leg muscles, allowing the sensations to block out all the negative emotions that had started to surface during his talk with that woman. He needed the exertion to push them firmly back where they belonged.

  Winded, he stopped to lean against a tree and stared out over the water. The serenity of the scene did nothing to ease his anxiety. His mind was in chaos, his emotions churning. Talking about his marital difficulties had brought all the guilt and anger rushing back to the surface—a toxic mixture that had all but crippled his life in New York and rendered him incapable of continuing his ministry. His parishioners deserved someone who demonstrated a shining example of faith and courage, not a man paralyzed with hatred and bitterness.

  Nathan continued on the path by the water, this time walking. Deep-breathing exercises allowed him to corral his unwanted feelings back into the appropriate compartment. It was ironic, really. His friends and family had all tried to get him to see a counselor, but he’d refused. The thought of baring his soul to a stranger, even another clergy member, made him physically ill.

  Now, while trying to help his son, Paige McFarlane had started poking into the most private areas of his life. Areas he wanted to keep buried. Somehow he had a feeling she would not allow that to happen.

  He sighed, and reluctantly headed down the beach in the direction of George and Catherine’s house to pick up his son, his mind still consumed by one unavoidable question.

  How was he ever going to help Zach when he was powerless to help himself?

  * * *

  Paige entered the employee cafeteria on the lower level of the inn, grateful for a distraction from her thoughts of Nathan and Zach’s problems. She found Jerry already seated at their usual table, two trays in front of him. With his sandy brown hair and freckles, Jerry Walton appeared a lot younger than his twenty-five years. He hadn’t changed a bit since they’d started running the children’s camp at Wyndermere four years earlier.

  “You’re late. I got you a burger. Hope that’s okay.”

  “Perfect. I’m starving.” She threw her files on the table and plopped onto a chair.

  Jerry wiped a drip of mustard from his m
outh. “Any word from Sandy? I thought she’d be here by now.”

  Paige scanned the bustling room as if Sandy Bennett, the third member of their team, would materialize. “Not yet. I know she expected to arrive late, but I thought she’d be here by now.”

  Jerry shrugged. “No use wasting time. Let’s go over the schedule again.”

  Paige chewed a large bite of her burger and opened her folder. Everything was falling into place for the camp, at least on paper. Dealing with the reality of the children would be a whole different dynamic.

  “How’d your meeting go with Zach’s father?”

  Paige shrugged. “Not bad. I learned some background information that will be helpful.” She set her burger down with a sigh. “I’m still not sure I’m doing the right thing, Jer. I might be in way over my head.”

  He raised a brow. “What’s the worst that could happen? If you get nowhere with the kid, his father will have to take him somewhere else. In the meantime, he’s going to have a great time here.”

  Despite her uneasiness, Paige couldn’t help but smile. “I guess you’re right. Being at Wyndermere always made me feel better, no matter what was going on in my life.” Even when her own grief had weighed her down.

  “Okay, it’s settled. Now, can we get to work here? We’ve got a ton to do before the kids arrive tomorrow.”

  “Got the plan of attack all worked out?”

  Paige looked up at the familiar voice and broke into a wide smile. “Sandy. You made it.” She jumped up to embrace the petite brunette. “When did you get in?”

  “About an hour ago.” Sandy gave Jerry a quick hug and dropped into a chair at their table. “Sorry it’s so last-minute. Being maid of honor for my sister was exhausting.” Her easy grin and cheerful demeanor brightened the room. “It’s good to see you guys.”

  “Same here.” Paige resumed her seat, already feeling steadier now that her friend had arrived. “You look great. I like the new do.”

  Sandy swung her head so that her layered brown hair moved with the breeze. The shorter feathered cut suited her big blue eyes and pixie face.

  “A makeover for the wedding.”

  “If you guys are going to trade beauty secrets, I’m out of here,” Jerry grumbled.

  “Relax.” Sandy patted his cheek. “We’ll catch up on the girl talk later. Right now I need a crash course on tomorrow’s schedule.”

  While Jerry filled Sandy in on the details, Paige went to get another round of iced tea. Thankfully, the cafeteria crowd had thinned out, which meant a quieter noise level for their meeting. She was on her way back with a tray of drinks when a tall figure blocked her path.

  “Hey, gorgeous. Let me get that for you.”

  Brandon Marshall, one of the students from last summer who did maintenance around the grounds, took the tray out of her hands and grinned down at her. His longish brown hair skimmed bold eyes that raked over her.

  Paige swallowed her dismay. She’d hoped Brandon wouldn’t be back this year. His arrogance had always rubbed her the wrong way. “Hello, Brandon. How are you?”

  If he noticed her less than enthusiastic greeting, he ignored it. “Fantastic, now that I’ve seen you.”

  He flashed a rakish smile, which only annoyed her further. She’d spent most of last summer fending off his attention, and it looked as if things would be no different this year. Reluctantly, she led him to her table, where he set the drinks down with a flourish.

  She nodded at her friends. “You remember Jerry and Sandy?”

  “Yeah, sure.” He barely glanced in their direction.

  Not wanting to appear rude, she asked if Brandon would like to join them.

  “No, thanks. I’ve got somewhere to be. But I’ll be seeing you around.” He winked at her as he backed out of the room.

  Paige dropped into her chair with a grimace.

  Sandy crossed her arms. “Looks like Romeo’s on the prowl again. You’re going to have to say something if you don’t want a repeat of last summer.”

  Paige groaned. “I tried to get rid of him last year, but he wouldn’t take the hint.”

  “Then you’ll have to be more forceful, so he gets the message loud and clear.”

  Jerry reached for his glass. “Aw, Brandon’s harmless.”

  Sandy shot him a disgusted look. “You men always stick together, don’t you?” She stabbed her pen in the air. “Seriously, Paige, be careful. Something about Brandon gives me bad vibes.”

  As they settled back to work, Paige hoped Sandy’s instincts were wrong. With everything else on her plate—initiating the new camp program, helping Zach Porter, struggling to figure out how she’d make ends meet for her last year of grad school—she didn’t need the added aggravation of fending off unwanted male attention.

  Especially since her plans for the future did not include romance. She’d learned the hard way what loving someone—and losing them—could cost, and she’d vowed to never let that happen again.

  Chapter Three

  “Have you ever been in a canoe before, Zach?”

  Kneeling on the dock, Paige adjusted the belt on the boy’s life jacket. With a few hours left of daylight, Paige had opted to have a little one-on-one time with Zach before the hectic first day of camp the next morning. Nathan had seemed relieved at her offer to spend time with Zach and had politely declined her invitation to join them.

  The fact that Zach had agreed to come with her only after she’d bribed him with ice cream did not bode well for their talk. Paige hoped that being out on the water for an impromptu canoe lesson would work in her favor, as opposed to keeping Zach cooped up in her dungeon of an office. Paige sighed, wondering again how she’d gotten roped into this crazy situation.

  “I went canoeing once with my cousins on a camping trip.” Zach kicked at a stone on the dock.

  Paige rose and offered a smile of encouragement. “Good. Then you know how easy it is to tip a canoe and how careful you have to be to balance the boat.”

  “I guess.” Zach tugged on the zipper of his jacket. “Do I have to wear this thing? I can swim, you know.”

  “Everyone has to wear a life jacket no matter how well they can swim. It’s a Wyndermere rule.” Paige held the side of the canoe and motioned for Zach to board. “Nice and slow and stay low toward the bottom of the boat.”

  Zach stepped inside, wobbled for a second before regaining his balance and then scrambled to one of the seats.

  Paige steadied the craft and got in herself, opting to kneel on one of the floatation cushions. Using one of the paddles, she pushed away from the dock. The boat glided out into the lake. “I’ll get us out a bit farther before I show you how to row.”

  Zach nodded. He peered out over the smooth water and pointed. “Can we go all the way to that island?”

  “Not tonight. That’s pretty far out.”

  Zach scowled at her. “It doesn’t look that far.”

  Paige mentally counted to ten. Zach seemed prepared to challenge her every statement. “Let’s take it one step at a time.” She began paddling in a rhythmic pattern and headed toward the open water. A light breeze teased the ends of her hair, cool enough to make her glad she’d worn a sweatshirt.

  “When are the other camp kids getting here?” The brim of Zach’s cap almost hid his eyes, but Paige had no trouble telling that they were hard and closed-off. She had a feeling he was less interested in meeting new people and more interested in her being too distracted by the others to bother him.

  “Some arrived today. A few will come tomorrow morning in time to register.” She paused for a moment to adjust the brim of her Wyndermere cap to block the sun. Even her sunglasses couldn’t reflect the glare off the water. “Are you looking forward to moving into the cabins?” Zach had been staying in Nathan’s suite at the inn, but would be j
oining the rest of the campers tomorrow at the two cabins near the woods.

  “Yeah. As long as the kids aren’t lame.”

  Paige hoped the scowl lines weren’t permanently grooved into the boy’s face. “No one is lame, Zach. And I’ll tell you right now that everyone is expected to get along. You may not like every boy or girl you meet, but you will treat them with politeness and respect. And they will treat you the same way.”

  Zach pressed his mouth into a thin line and shrugged. “Whatever.”

  Paige bit back a rebuke and decided to change focus. “You ready to try paddling?”

  He nodded and she handed him a paddle. She positioned his hands on the tool and gave him some basic pointers on how to use the blade. Soon he had mastered the technique and was moving the canoe forward.

  “You’re doing great,” she told him. “Next time I’ll teach you how to steer.”

  They floated along in silence for several minutes until Paige figured they’d better start heading back. “I’ll turn us around. The sun will almost be down by the time we get back.”

  “All right. I guess it is too far to get to the island.”

  She smiled. “It’s a lot farther than it looks.” Expertly she guided the canoe around. “So where do you live, Zach?” Paige opted to begin the counseling by asking a few harmless questions to get Zach used to talking with her.

  “In New York.”

  “Do you like your school?”

  “It’s okay.” He turned his face slightly and stared over her shoulder.

  “What do you do for fun? Play any sports?”

  His shoulders relaxed a fraction. “In the summer, I play baseball and soccer. Except this year I won’t because I’m here.”

  Sheesh. Every question was like entering a minefield. “Don’t worry. We’ll be playing a lot of sports, too.”

  He shrugged and kept staring at the horizon. Farther out, a speedboat flew by, creating a ripple of waves.

  “While you’re here, you and I are going to spend some time talking.” If she were lucky, Zach wouldn’t dive overboard.