The Rancher's Family Wish

by Lois Richer

  Guilt fell like a shroud. But guilt wouldn’t help.

  “It’s not sudden. He’s wanted—I think he’s wanted,” Tanner substituted, trying to remember that he was talking about his friend, “—to know his child from the beginning. But he was only sixteen and he was scared and—”

  “He was scared. Oh, well, that changes everything,” Sophie snapped. “Because she wasn’t scared, I guess. She was alone, pregnant, struggling as her body went through changes, giving birth alone, a kid trying to care for her baby on her own, and he was scared. Really?”

  Desperate to end her scathing opinion of his actions, Tanner went for levity. “So I’ll take that as a ‘No, you don’t think he should find his child’?”

  “I think it’s too late for his regrets. If he wants to salve his conscience he should write a check.” The way she glared at him made him wonder if she’d guessed it was his child they were talking about.

  “What if the child needs help?” Tanner sighed. “He made a mistake, Sophie. We all make them, but now he’s trying to make amends. You can’t just write him off. He’s looking for practical advice to do what’s best for his child. Shouldn’t I suggest he find the mom and the kid and make sure they’re okay?”

  She frowned at him, her eyes scanning his face. Tanner wondered if he’d pressed her too hard.

  “It sounds like this guy must be a really close friend of yours,” she said finally. “I’m sorry if I dissed him. It’s just—I have no patience with people who opt out when the going gets tough. Especially when there are kids involved.”

  “I know and admire that trait in you.” He smiled, savoring the fiercely protective glance she directed toward her giggling children and suddenly wishing she was the mother of the child he didn’t know, the one he’d abandoned.

  With a mother like Sophie his child would be deeply loved because that’s what Sophie did. Of course, if she was his child’s mother, Tanner was pretty sure she wouldn’t allow him within fifty feet of their child. Sophie would be as protective as a mother bear of her cub.

  “I suppose the responsible thing to do would be to investigate, make sure mom and child aren’t starving in some hole, or living on the streets,” she finally agreed, brown eyes dark and brooding.

  He nodded. “Agreed.”

  “Maybe the woman’s married now, with a family. If the kid is fine, the least selfish thing this guy could do is to not disrupt their lives and get on with his own, preferably doing something that will make a difference in the world and maybe help make up for his past mistake.”

  Tanner gulped at the distaste lacing her voice. What would she say if she knew he was trying to do that by turning Burt’s idea into reality? And yet, he didn’t think this was only about Sophie’s repugnance toward some nameless man who’d abandoned his child. Something in her tone said there was more to the antagonism behind her stiff words.

  “You sound really angry toward my friend,” he said in a quiet tone.

  “If I do it’s because I know what it’s like to be on your own, the only one your kids can depend on,” she said, still bristling. “Can you imagine what it feels like to know you haven’t got a cent and no way to make one but know that in half an hour your child will be hungry and you have no way to feed him?” Her face tightened. Her voice broke slightly and she paused to regroup. “That even if you can find something for that meal, there’s tomorrow and tomorrow after that to worry about? I hope you never know that helpless feeling, Tanner.” Her hands fisted.

  “That’s how Marty left you.” In that moment he understood the scared lurch of her voice and the passion behind her words. Sophie was still afraid. “You were left alone with two kids to feed, clothe and house. That must have been terrifying.”

  “Yes.” She bowed her head, as if ashamed to admit it.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said as he touched her shoulder. “I wish I’d been there to help you through that. But at least you could count on God.”

  “Could I?” She studied him for a moment before her gaze veered away to study something in the distance.

  “Of course you could.” He was suddenly uncertain, given the flash of anger through her dark eyes. “You’re here. You made it. You and the kids.”

  “Thanks mostly to the food bank.” She lifted her head. Defiance blazed from her face. “If it hadn’t been for that, we’d have starved.”

  “And the church.” He saw something blaze across her face. “Oh, Sophie,” he groaned. “You did tell someone at church, didn’t you?”

  “Of course not.” Sophie glared at him. “Do you think I wanted the congregation talking about us, choosing the silly, clueless mom and her kids as their newest charity case?”

  “Sweet, sweet Sophie.” Tanner brushed his fingertips against her cheek, touched by her independence but frustrated by her attitude. “Is that what you think when you take your trays of leftovers to folks who need them?”

  She frowned. “How do you know about— Davy,” she breathed in an exasperated tone.

  “Would you think of Edna, whom you help, as stupid or silly because she’s fallen on hard times?” he asked. “Is that why you’re over at her house taking care of things while she’s in the hospital?”

  “Davy talks too much,” she mumbled.

  “Or do you help,” he continued, ignoring her comment, “because you see someone who just needs a hand, which you’re glad to offer because it makes you feel as if you matter, as if someone needs you?”

  “It’s not the same.” She winced at his bark of laughter. “Okay, it’s quite a bit the same but back then I had to stand alone, to solve my own problems.”

  “Why? That’s completely against the whole point of faith.” Tanner frowned.

  “Huh?” She stared at him as if he had two heads.

  “By definition faith is trusting in something you can’t explicitly prove. Or if you prefer a biblical definition, Hebrews eleven, verse one says ‘faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.’” He grinned at her, wishing he could hug her and watch those brown eyes lose their shadows. “In other words, believing God has it taken care of so you don’t have to fuss about it.”

  “Tanner, that sounds good but practically it makes no sense.” She glanced at her kids. “That’s like saying I should let Davy and Beth climb this wall without any advice or protection because God will watch out for them.”

  “I’m not saying that. I’m saying the worry is unnecessary.” Tanner sought to explain himself. “Faith is saying ‘I can’t be here all the time for my kids but I’ve entrusted them to God and I trust Him to do His best for them when I can’t.’ It’s leaving the results up to God.”

  “Is that what you do?” she asked, her forehead marred by a frown, her voice hesitant.

  “Not all the time,” he admitted shamefacedly. “Sometimes I try to work things around to ensure the result I want and then something I didn’t foresee happens and I wish I’d left it up to God.” He winced at her nod. “It’s a journey, Sophie. I’m learning to walk by faith. I still make mistakes.”

  “I tried that,” she admitted in a whisper-soft voice, her head bent. “After I got married, I promised God I’d do the best I could if He’d be with me.” She lifted her head and looked directly at him, her brown eyes welling with tears. “He wasn’t.”

  “Of course He was.” Tanner’s heart ached for the doubt that plagued her. “In Second Timothy it says, ‘Even when we are too weak to have any faith left, he remains faithful to us and will help us.’ That proves how much God loves us.”

  “But I never feel like He’s near, Tanner.” Sophie’s big brown eyes shone with tears. “I always feel like I’m alone.”

  Her raw whisper got to him. With a groan for her pain, Tanner gave up restraining himself and pulled Sophie into his arms, stunned by how right it felt.
“He’s always right beside you, sweetheart. Always leading you, always guiding you.”

  “Even when He let Beth...be the way she is?” Sophie’s hesitant whisper came as she lifted her head to search his gaze for reassurance.

  The satin strands of her hair brushed against Tanner’s cheek, carrying the faintest scent of lilac and bringing feelings of affection and comfort and belonging. Of Sophie.

  “Honey, Beth is a living testament to faith. She’s vulnerable and yet there’s this trusting spirit inside her that allows her to trust God in a way that makes me envious.” Tanner pressed his forefinger under Sophie’s chin so she had to look at him. “God knew exactly what He was doing when he created Beth. She’s His gift to us.”

  “That’s what I think, too,” Sophie murmured. “But sometimes—”

  “Sometimes you let fear take over,” he said softly, brushing a hand against her smooth cheek. “And that opens the door to doubt. That’s when you have to cling hardest to your faith. God is here. He will do his best for us. Count on that, Sophie.”

  As her intense brown eyes locked with his, Tanner couldn’t tamp down a rush of affection for this woman. She was so strong, forcing her way through her misgivings to be the mom her kids needed. What was this need inside him, to be here for her, to protect and support her—why did he feel compelled to protect Sophie Armstrong?

  She was so beautiful, so utterly lovely inside and out. His arms tightened around her. He needed to get closer. He dipped his head—

  “Are you going to kiss Mama?”

  Pulling away from Sophie, Tanner called himself an idiot. Was he so desperate to be part of a family, to share his life and his work with someone who could understand and support him, that he would kiss Sophie in front of her kids?

  Yes! his spirit groaned.

  “I’m glad you finally left those rabbits to come over.” Tanner dropped his hands to release Sophie and fought to control his voice. He winked at Beth. “You can tell me what you think of my climbing wall.” That reminded Tanner that his goal was to fulfill Burt’s dream by reaching kids—which superseded any personal wants.

  Trouble was, the more Tanner worked with Sophie, the more his yearning grew to be part of a family, preferably a family with a mom like her! His skin reacted to her hand when it rested fleetingly against his arm with a burst of electricity.

  “Thank you, Tanner,” she murmured too quietly for the kids to hear. “I’ll look up the verse tonight. Maybe some Bible study will help rebuild my faith in God.”

  Tanner was surprised by just how much he wanted that for Sophie. But caring meant he was getting too close to her. He had to stop trying to get his own desires. The thought made him grin.

  Faith was sure easier to preach to Sophie than it was to live by.

  Chapter Seven

  “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” Tanner’s visible gulp as he surveyed the twenty-odd kids who were mounted up and impatiently waiting for their trail ride to begin made Sophie smile. “There are way more of them than I expected.”

  “They’re just kids wanting to learn to ride,” she encouraged. “You’ve done that before. And Moses will be there as well as two of your hired men.” Sophie hid her smile at Davy’s proud stance on his horse, confident of his skill when his classmates were not. “And Davy will help, too.”

  “Nice to hear you have faith in your son.” Tanner studied her for several moments before lifting his reins. “Does your trust extend to me?”

  Sophie wasn’t going to answer that because she didn’t have an answer. She was comfortable with leaving her kids in Tanner’s care. She knew he’d protect and care for them. But trust him? That was asking a lot more than she could give.

  She swerved her gaze away, stepped back and watched Tanner lead the way over the trail. Davy’s school class followed in pairs, their teacher in the middle with Moses, and two of Wranglers’ hands in the rear. It was the first large trail ride Tanner had attempted and he was doing it mostly because Davy’s teacher, after noting a huge change in him, hoped Tanner could make her science project on animals come alive for the rest of her class.

  Please, please let everything go okay, Sophie prayed. It was the first time in ages that she’d actually asked God for something. Now have some faith, she reminded herself. Faith. That was the hardest part.

  “Why couldn’t I go on the horses with Davy, Mama?” Beth’s usually happy face drooped with disappointment.

  “You can go another time, sweetie. This time is for Davy’s class to have a riding lesson.” She tried to soothe her daughter but Beth wasn’t in a soothing mood.

  “I wish I had school friends to ride horses with,” her daughter muttered before turning toward the house.

  “You don’t like being homeschooled?” Sophie asked, surprised by Beth’s discontent. She struggled to quell the rush of hurt she felt. She’d tried so hard...

  “I love you, Mama.” Beth hugged her tightly and pressed a kiss against her arm. “I like being with you, too. But I want lots of friends like Davy has.”

  “What about Bertie and Cora Lee?” Sophie sat down on Tanner’s patio and patted the seat next to her for Beth to also sit, probing this uncertain territory with a worried heart.

  “They’re nice but I want more friends. Lots of them. And I want to sing in the kids’ choir.” Beth’s lips pressed in a firm line that warned Sophie she wasn’t about to be swayed.

  “Still?” Sophie’s heart sank a little at Beth’s swift nod. Her daughter was so not musically gifted.

  “I want to sing songs to God like that lady and her girl did on Sunday.” Beth leaned her head against Sophie and sighed. “I know I don’t sing very good, but I could learn, Mama. I could try really hard to learn.”

  “Oh, honey, I know you’d try.” Sophie drew her sweet child into her arms and held her, trying to soothe what could not be soothed. Beth couldn’t sing.

  After a moment Beth drew away so she could look at Sophie, blue eyes sad. “Remember that book we read about the lonely puppy. I think I’m like him, Mama. I’m lonely.”

  The words cut a swath straight to Sophie’s heart. She’d tried so hard to do everything right for this precious child, to protect her from the scathing hurt of other kids who didn’t understand her disability. Instead she’d made Beth feel isolated.

  “Do you mean you want to go back to school?” she asked in a careful voice as fear bubbled up inside. How could she protect...

  “No.” The answer burst out of Beth, accompanied by a swift shake of her head.

  “But you just said— Why not?” Beth’s sudden retreat puzzled her.

  “I shouldn’t have said anything.” Her blond head drooped.

  “Why not?” Something was going on.

  “Davy said I’d hurt you if I asked.” Beth’s bottom lip quivered and a tear rolled down her cheek. “I did, didn’t I? I don’t ever want to hurt you. I love you, Mama.” She wrapped her arms around Sophie’s waist and squeezed.

  “Well, I love you, too, sweetie. That won’t ever change. But I want you to tell me why you don’t want to go back to school.” She saw several emotions vying for supremacy on Beth’s expressive face. Finally her daughter spoke.

  “I don’t want to go ’cause I’m too dumb just like Bertie said.” Beth hung her head.

  “Honey!” Appalled, Sophie lifted her chin to peer into her eyes. “You are not dumb.”

  “Bertie said the other kids say that’s why I can’t go to school anymore. They said you have to teach me ’cause I’m too dumb to learn at school.” Beth began to weep as if her heart was broken. “I don’t want to be dumb. I want to go to school like Davy.”

  “Oh, Bethy, I don’t think you’re dumb.” Sophie tamped down her anger at the slur, comforted her child and searched for a way to handle her daughter’s unhapp
iness. “But actually I’m glad you told me because I’ve been thinking it’s time for you to get back in the school. I homeschooled you because I didn’t think you were happy at school. But you’re older now and you need to be among your friends. I was just waiting for you to be ready.”

  “But I don’t want you to be sad,” Beth protested.

  “Why would I be sad?” Sophie couldn’t figure it out but she had a hunch Davy had something to do with this. Beth’s next words rendered her speechless.

  “Because if I go to school you’ll be all alone with nobody. Davy said that I shouldn’t say anything because when I’m at home you don’t worry so much.” Beth sniffed. “Davy and me don’t like it when you worry, Mama.”

  So she was causing problems for both her kids. Sophie cringed inside. Davy must have guessed she hadn’t removed Beth from school only because she was struggling but mostly because she’d heard the horrible taunts of other kids and wanted to save Beth from unhappiness.

  “I can do it, Mama. I can learn at school.” Beth’s blue eyes implored her to understand while confirming Sophie’s realization that her children understood far more than she’d given them credit for. “Anyway I don’t care what other kids say about me.”

  “You don’t?” she asked, stemming her tears.

  “Nope. You love me and Davy loves me and God loves me.” Her daughter’s sweet smile lifted Sophie’s hurting heart. “God will help me. That’s what He does. He helps people who need him.” Beth’s trusting words added to the lump inside Sophie’s stomach.

  A child shall lead them.

  “If we trust God to help us, He does, Mama. That’s what Pastor Jeff said.”

  Each word was a prick against Sophie’s heart. Trust. Beth trusted God but her mother couldn’t? Humbled and ashamed, she realized that not only hadn’t she trusted her sweet child, she hadn’t trusted God to protect her daughter, either. She wasn’t the example her daughter needed.