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“These are delicious. They taste just like the ones my grandma used to make. Soft and chocolaty.” He held up his fourth cookie, a big bite taken out of the side as he chewed with relish.
“Thank you.” At least she’d done something right today. But she didn’t like the tension between them. She didn’t like feeling like an ogre.
Later, Zoë packed everything up while Tanner went to the creek with Jonah. At one point, she looked up and saw Tanner holding her son’s hand, assisting the boy so he could cross the water without falling in. Seeing this man helping her little son reminded her that Derek was gone and wouldn’t be coming back.
Thinking about her husband caused her throat to ache, as though an icy fist squeezed it tight. How she longed for the companionship and intimacy she’d shared with her husband. Someone to talk to who really cared.
Someone who loved her as much as she loved him.
Shaking off her black mood, she returned the basket to the truck and got out her hip waders and sample kit. At the side of Clear Creek, she pulled on the green rubber waders. Then she opened her kit and took out several empty, tubelike glass vials. She dipped some into the water and some into the muddy bank for soil samples. As she pressed the cap onto the last vial and labeled the little jar, she became aware of Tanner standing nearby with Jonah.
“You taking some samples?” Tanner said.
“Yep.” She slipped the vial into her pocket before reaching for her fishnet. Holding still as the water swirled around her knees, she waited until a trout swam by. With quick movements, she scooped up the fish with the net. Keeping the thrashing animal in the water, she leaned down and gently clasped it with her hands, turning it upside down so its gleaming white belly faced her. The fish immediately quieted as she inspected it with her hands.
“Rainbow trout?” Tanner asked.
“Yes, eight inches long and in good health.” She didn’t look up as she measured the fish against the notches carved in the handle of the net.
She let the fish go and it zipped away while she pulled out a small notebook and jotted down the information.
“You’ve obviously handled a lot of fish, yet you’ve never gone fishing.”
“That’s right.” She didn’t offer an explanation. She hadn’t thought about it until now, but she never seemed to have enough extra time for leisure activities. Until recently. Although their scheduled fishing trip was mostly about Jonah, she also looked forward to the experience. But she didn’t want to tell Tanner that. He might get the wrong idea.
“Okay, that’s it. I’m done for now.” She stowed her notebook in the pocket of her shirt, then reached for a boulder to grasp so she could pull herself out of the stream. She found Tanner’s hand in front of her, his long fingers extended. Surprised by his offering, she gazed up at his stony face for several moments. As he pulled her up, she felt his great physical strength. She didn’t look at him as she rinsed the mud from her waders, dried them off, then folded them to carry back to the truck.
Jonah sped ahead of them, hopping over clumps of grass, kicking at a rock and laughing. Having a great time.
“I appreciate your getting those samples.” Tanner spoke beside her.
An unexplainable irritation gnawed at her gut. “It’s my job.”
“I know. But I didn’t even think about it, until I saw you doing it.”
She faced him. “And why is that so surprising, Tanner?”
“I, um... It’s not.” His face flushed with embarrassment, his hands in his pockets like a little kid who’d just been caught stealing a pack of gum.
“It’s your strategy in dealing with the farmers I don’t agree with,” he said.
“Is that right?” She bit back a harsher response.
His shoulders relaxed somewhat and his gaze softened. “Look, I didn’t mean to offend you, Zoë. I don’t know many women who would tromp through a stream to gather mud samples,” he said.
His confession left her speechless for several moments. “We definitely have different methods. I’d like to take these samples to my office now, if you don’t mind.”
Turning, she kept walking, conscious of him following behind. Back in the truck, they didn’t speak much as Tanner drove them down the mountain and back to town. In the supervisor’s parking lot, Zoë gathered her bags and moved them over to her car.
Before she took Jonah home, the boy looked up at Tanner with a charming smile. “Don’t forget our fishing trip next Saturday.”
“I won’t.” Tanner spoke low.
Zoë opened her mouth to tell Tanner that she’d changed her mind about them going, but she couldn’t stand to hurt her son that way. It wasn’t Jonah’s fault that she was having an altercation with Tanner over their methods.
Tanner took a deep inhale of resignation. “I’ll pick you up at nine.”
“Do you know where we live?” she asked.
“I do. It’s a small town.”
Right. She got it. But she still didn’t know if they should go.
“Thanks for taking us out today.” She said the words mechanically.
“You’re welcome. I’ve got another trip planned for us midweek, to visit one of the logging operations. I’ll call your office on Monday to give you the exact time. I’ll pick you up at your office.”
Yeah, that would be fun. She couldn’t wait.
She nodded, her gaze glancing off his. “Fine, I’ll let my assistant know.”
And without another word, they parted company on that sour note.
Chapter Five
Midweek came much too soon for Tanner’s peace of mind. With Zoë in the passenger seat, he drove a Forest Service truck this time as they headed up the mountain. For some crazy reason, Tanner missed the incessant chatter of her son. Against his better judgment, Tanner had come to like the boy. He tried to tell himself the kid was just another coworker’s little boy, but for some reason Tanner felt different about Jonah.
“How’s Jonah?” he couldn’t help asking Zoë.
“Great. He can’t wait for our fishing trip on Saturday.”
“Good.” Tanner figured if he had to go, the least he could do was make it fun for Jonah.
Part of him wondered if he was setting himself up for more pain by letting himself care for Jonah.
But really it wasn’t that big a deal. Taking the kid fishing didn’t mean they had to be best buddies forever. It wouldn’t hurt to be nice to a fatherless child.
Or would it?
As before, the road leading toward the mountains paralleled Bingham River. Willows, sedges and grass edged the riverbanks, the frothing stream splashing over smoothed boulders in its path. The water glimmered in the sunlight, like a million translucent crystals.
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