no matter what. When he’d said, To have and to hold, from this day forward until death do us part, he’d meant every single solitary word.
Rebecca, on the other hand? Not so much.
So they’d drifted apart in those last few months before she’d left him. That happened at some point in every marriage, right? It wasn’t all roses and sunshine all the time.
He was a simple rancher with an equally simple philosophy about how to love his God and live his life. A man dealt with whatever circumstances God gave him without complaining. Sometimes it was good, sometimes not so much. Some things a man could plan for, see the storms coming so he could batten down the hatches. Other times things came unexpectedly, or didn’t come at all. Sometimes life swung a fisted punch in a gut which was hard to recover from, and no doubt about it. But a real man had to pick himself up, dust himself off and keep on keeping on. That’s how he ran his ranch, and up until a short while ago, that’s how he’d believed he’d kept his marriage alive and stable.
Maybe not, though. If he’d paid more attention, maybe—
But a dozen maybes wouldn’t bring Rebecca back to him.
Even with all the problems between them, most especially the heartbreaking pain of them suffering through the seven months’ stillbirth of their firstborn daughter, whom they’d named Faith before they buried her in the ground, he never would have imagined Rebecca would out-and-out abandon him.
But six months ago, she had.
After they’d buried their daughter, Rebecca had spent weeks in bed, not even allowing him to open the curtains to let some sunshine in or turn on the lights. She didn’t want to have anything to do with her life anymore—or with him. He’d taken to sleeping on the couch so as not to disturb her. She took pills for anxiety and insomnia, but they didn’t really help her.
And then he’d come back in late from his ranch work one evening and she’d been gone. No note or anything. No explanation.
Just gone.
She’d disappeared to no-one-knew-where, not even her mother, and she’d only called him once since the day she’d walked out on him.
She had been reaching out to him with that one phone call, and in hindsight, he realized he should have taken the time to listen to her, to try to talk through their problems and bring her back home. But she’d caught him off guard on an evening when he was already feeling down. And when he’d picked up the telephone and heard her voice, he’d been so angry he hadn’t even let her speak. He’d understood why they called it seeing red, because that’s exactly how it felt.
And to his shame, he hadn’t let her say a word. He just hung up on her.
He didn’t know whether to be glad or sad or mad that she’d taken the hint and hadn’t attempted to reach out to him again.
Probably a mixture of all three.
In any case, he didn’t belong up here on a bachelor’s auction block. He was a man unhappily separated from his wife and he didn’t want anything to do with women. Full stop. It didn’t matter to him that every man in Serendipity, married and single alike, was offering his services for this very special auction.
Tanner just wanted to go home. Alone. To grieve in private.
If he hadn’t promised Jo Spencer, the boisterous old redhead who was both organizer and auctioneer, that he’d do his part for charity, a fund-raiser to build a local senior center recently approved by the town council, Tanner wouldn’t be here at all. He would have stayed home at his ranch where he belonged. At least out on the range with his horse and the cattle he could nurse his broken heart in peace and quiet.
Well, not exactly peace, anymore. Nor quiet, for that matter.
He no longer had that luxury.
“Uncle Tanner! Uncle Tanner!”
He looked down to the front row of the crowd to see his three-year-old niece, Mackenzie, madly giggling, bouncing up and down and waving at him, as excited about this outing as Tanner was not. Tanner’s mother-in-law, Peggy, Rebecca’s mom, was attempting without much success to corral the small girl, whose blond curls bobbed right along with the rest of her body. She had more energy in her pinky finger than Tanner had in his whole body on a good day. She also had the biggest blue eyes Tanner had ever seen—and she knew just how to use them to melt his heart.
But it wasn’t her fault none of the adults around her could get their lives together.
Mackenzie deserved his very best, so he made a gigantic effort to smile and wave back at her. Hopefully it looked like a smile and not a grimace, for the child’s sake.
Five months ago, Tanner’s sister, Lydia, had landed in jail for the second time on drug charges, leaving her daughter, Mackenzie, temporarily in Tanner’s care, as he was the only other living relative. Two major life changes in six months was two too many, but Tanner was determined to do whatever it took to protect and provide for Mackenzie. He was incredibly grateful for Peggy, who had cheerfully moved to the ranch to help with the round-the-clock care the preschooler demanded.
Peggy had never questioned Tanner’s loyalty to Rebecca, even though their relationship had come to such an abrupt ending. In Peggy’s mind—and in Tanner’s—she was still family, and always would be.
Mackenzie’s arrival in Tanner’s life was the ultimate irony. Rebecca had left him because the stress of losing their daughter was more than Rebecca had been able to handle, and she’d become withdrawn and moody, which Tanner frankly couldn’t comprehend.
For whatever reason, or maybe many reasons, she’d eventually left him altogether.
And then only a few months later, Mackenzie had entered his life.
If Rebecca had stayed, maybe she could have healed her heart by caring for the precious little girl God had brought into Tanner’s life. They would have been a family.
Rebecca’s most heartfelt wish was to be a mother, and she would have been such a good mother figure for Mackenzie. She’d had so much love to give a child.
If only she were here to take on that role now. What a difference that would have made.
But she wasn’t here, leaving Tanner a single man trying his best to juggle ranch life with finding quality time with Mackenzie.
“Go, Uncle Tanner!” Mackenzie called, joyfully clapping her little hands. “Yay for Uncle Tanner!”
Tanner breathed out heavily and flashed a puppy-dog glance at Jo, hoping she might take pity on him and release him from this painful obligation, but she just smiled encouragingly and opened the bidding.
“As y’all know, Tanner here is a lifelong rancher. Need your fences repaired or your tack buffed to a shine? Tanner’s your man. Need help rounding up stray calves? You’re looking at the answer to your problem right here with this handsome fella.”
To Tanner’s surprise, within moments, folks were cheerfully tossing out bids, merrily one-upping each other to win what Tanner considered not a particularly great prize.
He should have expected this, he belatedly realized. His friends and neighbors were eager to support him throughout these tough months and this was one concrete way they could do it, showing him a little love by their high bids. Of course they felt sorry for him and Mackenzie, but it wasn’t the kind of pity that put a man down. They were trying to build him up.
He released his breath and tried to relax. This would be over in a minute. He’d worked himself into a dither for no reason. It wasn’t his fault Rebecca had left him, and everyone in town knew it. He had a new appreciation for those willing to step up for him.
He would mend fences or round up cattle for the woman who won him to the best of his ability, and then his obligation to Serendipity’s new senior center would be met.
He removed his dark brown Stetson and combed his fingers through