she looked as if she didn’t want to draw attention to herself. As if she were trying to hide.
He shot her another glance, surprised to find her looking at him. Then a flush colored her cheeks and she looked quickly away, turning back to Brooke. But her friend was leaning past her, looking at Tanner, the faint frown on her face telegraphing her disapproval of his presence there.
For a moment he regretted coming. But he pulled in a breath, ignoring both of them and looking at the front of the church, centering himself. He was here to worship. He shouldn’t care what Keira or her friend Brooke thought.
The worship team was assembling at the front, another surprise for Tanner. For as long as he could remember, Laura McCauley had played the old organ, coaxing maximum volume for her favorite hymns, making it barely wheeze for the songs she didn’t care for. In fact, she had played for David’s funeral, a long, steady requiem of mournful songs that had served only to make Tanner even more depressed.
But this group started a lively song that got Tanner’s toe tapping though he didn’t recognize the song they were playing.
Halfway through the first song he felt a nudge on his shoulder.
“You’re in my spot, young man.”
He looked up, puzzled, then repressed a grin.
Keith McCauley glared down at him, his mustache quivering over tightly pursed lips.
He had forgotten that Mr. McCauley had always sat here. His three daughters always took up the space between him and Keira. But that was many years ago.
“So. You’re back,” Keith said, his frown easing as he recognized Tanner. “You don’t usually sit here.”
Tanner shook his head as he moved over to give Keith room yet still preserve some space between him and Keira. “No. Me and my family always sat in the back.”
Keith dropped into the pew beside him and let out a mournful sigh. Keith always had an air of long-suffering, which, Tanner suspected, had as much to do with his estranged daughters as it had with the arthritis he knew had been bothering the man as long as Tanner could remember. “So what you been doing since you left Saddlebank?” Mr. McCauley asked him.
“Been busy with work,” Tanner said with a polite smile. He knew his sudden appearance after a two-year absence would engender commentary, welcome or not.
“You sound like my daughters,” Keith grumped, tugging a folded-up bulletin out of the pocket of his shirt. “They’re always busy, too. Too busy to see their dad. After all I’ve done for them, all the sacrifices I made.”
Tanner kept his smile in place, fully understanding why Lauren, Jodie and Erin had stayed away from the ranch and their father. Keith and Tanner’s stepmother, Alice, would have made a good pair. Both intent on letting their offspring know exactly how much they were owed and not letting them forget it.
Tanner folded his arms over his chest as the music group began another song. The song wasn’t familiar to him and he felt a moment of irritation. He had hoped to find some comfort in the familiarity of the church service. He focused on the words of the song the group was singing, flashed on a screen at the front.
“My refuge, my fortress, sanctuary to me. My God, my father, my eternity.” Tanner let the words wash over him, realizing that of all the relationships in his life, all of the changes and losses, God had always been there, waiting.
Forgive me, Lord, he prayed, and made himself concentrate on the service. The group was finished playing, and Pastor Dykstra, a young man with a beaming smile, came to the front. He looked over the congregation and welcomed everyone, then encouraged the congregation to welcome the people around them with a handshake and a smile.
Tanner turned to Keith first but only received a cursory nod. The man had his arms folded tightly across his chest, the black look on his face clearly showing his feelings about this new development.
“Don’t care for all that hand shaking or these new songs,” he grumped. “My aunt should be playing the organ, not these young kids who don’t know the first thing about music.”
And welcome to the service to you, too, thought Tanner, stifling a grin at Keith McCauley’s attitude.
“Tanner Fortier, how wonderful to see you here,” Sadie Properzi, an middle-aged woman sitting in front of him, said, clasping his hand with both of hers, her warm demeanor the perfect antidote to Keith’s ill temper. “We missed you.”
“Probably because I don’t live here anymore,” Tanner said.
Sadie’s smile slipped as if she understood why that was, but she recovered quickly and patted him on the arm. “That’s too bad, of course.” Her eyes darted to Keira in silent question but Tanner wasn’t drawn in. He looked behind him, but no one was sitting there, and then he had nowhere else to turn but to Keira. Should he hold out his hand? He was the guest. Should he welcome her or should he wait for her to talk?
So he simply nodded at her and went with, “Hello, Keira.”
Her response was a tight nod. “Welcome to the service,” she said, then looked straight ahead.
He looked at her a moment longer, fighting the same urge he’d felt every time he’d seen her the past couple of days. The urge to demand answers to questions that had tormented him for the past two years. Why hadn’t she been willing to give him a second chance? Why had she ignored his phone calls?
Why hadn’t she called him?
But from the determined set of her jaw and the quick frown thrown his way from Brooke, he knew he wouldn’t be getting any answers in the near future.
He pulled in a long breath and hoped that George Bamford would be able to talk his buddy into letting Tanner stay at his place while he was here.
Refuge Ranch was certainly no refuge for him.
* * *
“I can’t stay long,” Keira said to Brooke, as she glanced at the oversize clock hanging on the wall of the Grill and Chill behind her friend. “Alice said she wanted to visit a friend today and I promised I would make sure Mom had company.”
Brooke owned a hairdressing shop in town and though she and Keira saw each other regularly, Brooke had suggested they meet up for coffee.
But Keira’s hopes for some quiet time were ruined the moment they stepped inside the bustling café. The tables were filled with chattering hockey moms and dads full of excitement for the game they had just played.
“So, what happened to your hand?” Brooke asked, pointing to the bandages that Keira still wore.
“Cut myself doing dishes yesterday,” Keira replied, feeling her cheeks flush as she relived the moment when Tanner bandaged up her finger.
Brooke leaned forward, her brown eyes bright with expectation as she toyed with the purple streak she had put in her hair a few days ago. “So? Tanner? How’s that going for you? Is it hard to see him again? Has he missed you?”
She paused to let the barrage of questions linger, as if hoping Keira would answer one of them.
“So? George?” Keira parried, referencing the thirty-five-year-old bachelor owner of the Grill and Chill, who had held Brooke’s heart for many years. Unfortunately Brooke didn’t hold George’s, a matter that had caused Brooke endless indecision.
“You and Tanner were engaged. You have history,” Brooke said, implying that she and George had far less than that. “You haven’t seen him since you left Saddlebank. It’s got to be hard to see him now.”
“He’s part of my past. I’ve got my future to think of.”
“I saw how Tanner looked at you in church,” Brooke continued. “I think he still likes you.”
Keira clenched her fists against a sudden and unexpected pain. “Please, Brooke, can we stop talking about