A Father For Zach (11 page)

Flanked by a vulnerable, trusting little boy and a shattered woman who were both counting on him for support, an unfamiliar emotion tightened Nathan’s throat. He’d never been anyone’s anchor. Nor felt so needed. Or valued. Or worthy.

Warmth spilled from his heart, radiating throughout his body.

And in that instant, he knew that this moment was a sample of what he’d been yearning for his whole life. He wanted to be part of a circle of love. Not just in a traumatic time of need, but for always.

When they reached the breezeway, he gave Zach’s fingers a squeeze. “Could you open the door for us?”

“Sure.”

Releasing his hand, Zach pushed through and held it open.

Nathan scrutinized Catherine again as they eased through the door. She still hadn’t spoken, nor had she
stopped quivering. But a little color had seeped back into her cheeks.

“Why don’t you sit here in the breezeway while I get a cookie for Zach and put him down for his nap. Okay?”

She gave a barely perceptible nod as he guided her to the wicker settee. Sinking down, she wrapped her arms around her body as if she was trying to hold herself together.

“I’ll be right back,” Nathan promised.

Again, she dipped her head.

“Come on, champ. Let’s round up that cookie.”

Nathan took care of the cookie business as fast as he could, setting it on a plate and pouring a half glass of milk. To Zach’s delight, he suggested they take it upstairs so he could enjoy it in his room.

“Wow! Mom never lets me eat in bed. Except when I’m sick.”

“We’ll make an exception today.” Nathan handed the plastic cup to Zach and led the way up to his bedroom. Once he’d settled the child in with the snack and a picture book, he hotfooted it back to the breezeway. Zach’s trauma was over.

But he had a feeling Catherine’s was still in full swing.

In the five minutes he’d spent with Zach, Catherine hadn’t changed position. She was sitting as he’d left her, arms wrapped around her body, still trembling, still too pale. But the numbed shock in her eyes had given way to an almost palpable distress.

As he approached, he also caught the glimmer of tears. The woman who’d said she never cried looked as if her control was finally about to break.

Joining her on the settee, he entwined his fingers with hers. She clung to them, her grasp painfully tight.

“Thank you for t-taking care of Zach.”

“He didn’t need much taking care of. I’m more worried about his mom.”

Her lips twitched as if she was trying to summon up a smile. Instead, they began to tremble. A tear slipped past her lower lashes and began to creep down her cheek. She didn’t seem to notice…and he resisted the temptation to wipe it away, not wanting to call attention to it.

“Yeah. His mom’s a mess, isn’t she?”

“I wouldn’t use that adjective.”

“Why not? It’s true.” She blinked and shook her head. “I t-try so hard to keep him safe. That’s why I moved here. My family v-visited Nantucket once, when I was a teenager, and I remembered it as a quiet, sheltered kind of place. I wanted Zach to g-grow up in that kind of environment so I wouldn’t have to worry about him all the time. But I couldn’t even keep him safe in our own yard. He could have b-broken his neck.” The last word caught on a sob.

He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. “Accidents happen everywhere, Catherine,” he said gently. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I feel like it was. I should have been watching him.”

“You can’t watch him every minute.”

“But I’m so afraid of losing him, too! He’s all I have now. If anything ever happened to him…” Her face crumpled, and she dropped it into her hands, trying to stifle the sobs clamoring for release.

“Oh, Catherine.” His stomach contracted, and he touched the silky strands of hair that had fallen across her cheek. Tucked them behind her ear. Then he followed his instincts and wrapped her in his arms, pulling her against his chest. Close to his heart. “Let it out, sweetheart. You’re overdue for a good cry.”

“I—I don’t cry.” Her broken protest was muffled against his shirt, but she didn’t try to pull away. Nor could she stop the sobs that began to wrack her slender body. They shuddered through her in waves; harsh, ragged sounds that disrupted the quiet Nantucket air and expressed more eloquently than words all the grief, anguish and anger that been building inside her for the past two years.

At some point, Nathan shifted enough to fish a handkerchief out of his pocket. She took it without a word and continued to cry.

He had no idea how long he held her in the shelter of his arms, but when at last her tears subsided, she eased back. Keeping her head bowed, she blew her nose.

“Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be. After all you’ve been through, you deserve a good cry.”

“Tears don’t solve problems.”

“No. But they can help dispel strong emotion.”

She lifted her tear-stained face. Even with blotchy skin and red-rimmed eyes, she looked beautiful to him. “You sound as if you’re speaking from experience.”

“I’ve shed my share of tears.” Some long ago, in the darkness of the terrible nights. Others over the past two years, as he fought his way back from the black abyss that had become his life.

“Most men wouldn’t admit that.” She studied his face.

He lifted one shoulder. “That’s their issue.”

Dabbing at her eyes with his handkerchief, she continued to watch him. “You’re a different sort of person, Nathan Clay.”

“Yeah.” He tried to smile, but all he managed was a small quirk on one side of his mouth. “An ex-con.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s true, though.” He was glad that hadn’t been top of mind when she’d made her comment. But his background did set him apart. And it always would. If there was to be any future for the two of them, his history couldn’t be swept into a dark corner. It had to be recognized and accepted.

“I was thinking more about your kindness and sensitivity and patience.” She looked down, balling his handkerchief into her fist.

A little seed of hope sprouted to life in his heart. “Thank you.”

“You’re very good with Zach, too. A lot of guys would consider him a nuisance—like the short-lived remodeler I hired after you left. I like that about you. You’ve been a great blessing in his life. In both our lives.” Her shoulders drooped. “I’ve tried my best to be all things to him these past two years, but it’s hard going it alone.”

She’d called him a blessing.

Incredible.

“You’re not alone.” His words rasped and he cleared his throat. “The man upstairs is always just a holler away. And I wield a mean hammer if you ever need anything repaired.”

“I’m not on the best of terms with God. And as for repairs…” She sighed. “A hammer and nails can’t fix loneliness. Or a broken heart.”

Disregarding the red alert that began to flash in his mind, Nathan angled toward her. With a gentle finger, he lifted her chin until her gold-flecked eyes were looking into his. “I’m sorry for all your losses, Catherine. I can’t fix those, but I can return some of the compliments you just paid me. In the weeks since we met, I’ve come to admire your ability to pick up the pieces of your life and move on. I’ve been
impressed by your strength. And by your commitment to Zach. You’re a different sort of person, too, Mrs. Walker.”

“In spite of my meltdown today?”

“You had good reason for it.”

His finger was still under her chin, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world to take the next step and cup her face with his hands. Her skin was smooth against his calloused palms, and as he stroked his thumbs over the faint shadows beneath her eyes, the sudden surge of longing in her green irises blindsided him.

Because it mirrored the yearning in his heart.

Kissing Catherine hadn’t been on his agenda for today. But all at once, it was the only thing that mattered.

No matter the risk.

Drawing in a steadying breath, he bent his head and tenderly pressed his lips to hers.

More than ten years had passed since he’d kissed a woman. Longer still since such an embrace had involved tenderness and caring. But as he claimed Catherine’s sweet lips, he felt as if he’d been transported to a different realm. To a world where affection and warmth and gentleness ruled. Where devotion and commitment were more than words. Where honor and vows and love wove a beautiful tapestry.

And as her mouth stirred beneath his, responding to his touch, he knew this moment, fragile as a butterfly’s wing, would live forever in his memory.

When he at last drew back, her face still cupped in his hands, she was trembling again.

So was he.

Brushing a wisp of hair away from her forehead, he took one of her hands in his. He didn’t intend to ruin the moment by talking about it. Or apologizing. Or saying
things she might not be ready to hear. It was better to leave now. Give them both a chance to regroup. To process what had just happened.

Clearing the huskiness from his throat, he gave her hand a squeeze. “I need to head out. I’ve got another customer expecting me in twenty minutes. Will you be okay?”

“Yes.” Her whispered response was barely there, her eyes big as she regarded him.

He stood. “Call me if you need anything.”

She nodded.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Another silent nod.

Lifting a hand in farewell, he pushed through the door, strode toward his bike and took off down the dirt road—all the while trying to assess Catherine’s reaction to the kiss.

Surely she’d been as surprised by it as he’d been. Yet she hadn’t pushed him away. Nor had she fired him again.

But where did they go from here? Would she think of his kiss as nothing more than a compassionate gesture? His way of comforting her after a nasty scare? Or would she see it for what it was—a desire to take their relationship to another level?

Nathan didn’t know. But he hoped—and prayed—she would find a way to get past the parallels between him and the man who’d taken the life of her husband. To look into his heart and see the goodness he had to offer.

Yet luck had been elusive in his life. Although her acceptance of his kiss had been a positive sign, after a good night’s sleep she might very well regret their little interlude and send him packing.

As if to verify that conclusion, rain began to fall from the clouds that had gathered during the past hour. Meaning long before he got back to town, he’d be hosed.

If he wasn’t already.

T
his is ridiculous.

Bunching the sheet in her fists, Catherine expelled a frustrated breath and checked the clock atop her nightstand. Three-thirty. At this rate, she’d be lucky to get two hours of shut-eye tonight.

All because of a kiss that still lingered on her lips…and a whispered endearment.

No one had ever called her sweetheart.

Resigned to her sleepless state, she tossed the covers aside and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Maybe more housework would help tire her out. She’d been using her toes as an excuse to delay those kind of chores, but the swelling and bruising had faded. In another two weeks, she could ditch the hiking boots and go back to wearing regular shoes.

After pulling on jeans and a sweatshirt, she headed downstairs, determined to take control of her thoughts—and emotions. Laundry first, she decided, veering toward the washer and dryer.

But her plan was foiled within two minutes. For as she
sorted through the garments, her hands stilled on an article that had been missing from her clothes basket for two years.

A man’s handkerchief.

Damp with tears.

Hers.

Catherine closed her eyes.

It was no use. Since their kiss twelve hours ago, she’d tried every trick in the book to put Nathan out of her mind. She’d scrubbed the bathrooms, pulled weeds from around the hydrangea bushes in front, cooked dinner, read Zach stories. Anything to keep from facing the disturbing questions and impulses generated by that brief moment of affection.

Had she been wise, she’d have pushed him away when he leaned toward her. She’d have refused to let herself be swayed by those appealing, warm brown eyes. But, no. She’d not only let him kiss her, she’d kissed him back.

She could try attributing that lapse in judgment to her distress over Zach and her heightened emotions after his fall.

Except that was a lie.

She’d let Nathan kiss her for one simple reason.

She’d wanted to be kissed.

And she’d liked it.

Just as she’d liked it when he’d called her sweetheart.

Tossing his handkerchief into the washer, she spotted the Atlanta Braves jersey he’d worn the day of the spaghetti incident. It had been sitting in her laundry room ever since.

Somehow it had never made it into the wash.

Slowly she leaned over and picked it up. Lifted the fabric close to her face. Inhaled the scent that was equal parts honest physical labor and powerful masculinity.

The scent that was all Nathan.

She should know, after getting an up close and personal whiff of it just twelve hours ago.

And Lord help her, she wanted more.

Setting aside the jersey, she closed the lid on the washer and twisted the dial. Then she wandered into the kitchen, made herself a cup of tea, sat at the kitchen table…and faced the truth.

She was falling for a man who represented everything she hated.

Or did he?

For despite the labels society might put on Nathan—troublemaker, delinquent, armed robber, ex-con—he didn’t fit her criminal stereotype. Nathan Clay was living proof people could change. Whatever his past, he’d become a compassionate, caring man who’d treated her and Zach with nothing but kindness and empathy and consideration.

That was the reason she’d kissed him back. Not because she was distraught or lonely or needed comforting. But because she was attracted to him—for all the right reasons.

And that was the crux of her problem. If she accepted that Nathan was a man worth loving; that he’d effected a radical transformation in his life; that his past was less important than his present—how did she know the same wasn’t true for Dale Nelson?

Yet could she let go of her hate? Could she forgive the man who had destroyed her world if he, too, had changed and come to regret what he’d done? And what if he hadn’t? Absent his remorse, could she still dredge up forgiveness, find it in her heart to ask the Lord to show him mercy?

All these months, she’d held on to her hate, using it to keep sorrow at bay. She’d been afraid to face her grief, fearing that if she gave into it, it would consume her and
leave her spent and empty and shattered. But yesterday, in Nathan’s arms, she’d let a lot of it go. And she felt okay. Better, even. Precisely
because
Nathan’s strong, comforting arms had been ready to catch her if she started to fall toward the yawning abyss of inconsolable sorrow.

As for Dale Nelson…she needed to think that through. Pray about it, perhaps. For just as Nathan had found his future only by letting go of his unhappy past, she had a feeling the same was true for her.

But there was another piece of her past she had to leave behind, as well, she realized with a pang. A happy part.

It was time to say goodbye to David, too. To let him go. To know that while every memory they’d shared, every moment of their years together, would always be precious to her, it was okay to love someone else. To let another man claim a piece of her heart in his own special, unique way that would take nothing away from the love that had belonged only to her and David.

Rising, Catherine tossed her spent tea bag in the trash.

For the past two years, she’d been living in the past, focused on making it through each new day.

Maybe now it was time to think about the future.

“Mom! I can do it myself!”

At Zach’s frustrated protest, Nathan looked toward the little boy. Catherine had been hovering over her son all day, never letting him more than a few feet from her sight, stepping in whenever he needed help, constantly warning him to be careful.

Yesterday’s scare had obviously unnerved her. He knew her actions reflected her deep love for her son, but her excessive attention was only annoying Zach.

She’d even cut his sandwich into bite-size pieces at lunch, much to Zach’s disgust.

“He does a good job collecting all the tools, Catherine. And I don’t leave any of the dangerous ones lying around.” Nathan kept his tone mild, purging any hint of criticism. He’d been treading carefully since he’d arrived this morning. While she hadn’t mentioned their kiss, she’d been avoiding eye contact. Not a good sign.

She shot him a quick glance. “The hammer’s heavy. He might drop it on his foot.”

“Oh, Mom!” Zach huffed out a breath. “Just because you dropped a paint can on your toes doesn’t mean I’m going to drop a hammer. Besides, it’s not heavy enough to break anything. And
I
have shoes on.”

A flush crept up her neck as the phone in the main house began to ring.

“I’ll keep an eye on Zach if you want to get that,” Nathan offered.

She hesitated a second, then turned on her heel and exited.

“Sheesh.” Zach gave Nathan a put-upon look and rolled his eyes. “Mom’s all over me today. Worse than usual.”

Nathan snapped the toolbox closed and brushed off his hands, taking a quick survey of the room, now finished except for the flooring. “That’s because she loves you, champ. She got scared yesterday when you fell.”

“Yeah.” Zach stood and brushed his hands off, too. “She gets scared a lot. I bet she wouldn’t be so nervous if my dad was still here.” He sighed and scuffed the toe of his sport shoe on the subfloor. “I wish I had a dad again.”

“Maybe you will, someday.”

“Yeah?” Zach gave him a hopeful look. “How would I get one?”

“Well, if your mom found someone else to love, like she loved your dad, maybe she’d marry him. Then you’d have a new dad.”

Narrowing his eyes, Zach sized him up. “Are you married, Nathan?”

Uh-oh. He should have seen that coming.

“No. And I’m too busy to think about that right now.” He flipped off the light in the bathroom, dropped a hand to the boy’s shoulder and tried to change the subject. “Next week we’re going to start on the floor. After that, your mom can decorate the rooms. I bet your guests are going to like this place, don’t you?”

“Yeah. So are you going to think about getting married
someday
?”

His evasive maneuvers hadn’t worked. No surprise there. Zach could be as tenacious as a Nantucket deer tick when he bit into a subject that interested him. “I might. But you have to fall in love with someone first.”

“You like my mom, don’t you?’

This was getting really sticky. “Sure. She’s a nice lady. I like her son, too.” He forced his lips into a grin, trying to come up with some way to distract the youngster. “I think we should have a wrap party after this job is finished, don’t you?”

“What’s that?”

The mention of a party had done the trick. Good. “It’s a celebration you have when a project is finished. We could have cake and ice cream, maybe.”

Zach’s eyes brightened. “Like a birthday?”

“Sort of.”

“I like cake. And ice cream, too. I bet we could talk Mom into it.”

“Zach!” Catherine’s voice interrupted their conversation. “Naptime.”

His face fell. “I hate naps.”

Smiling, Nathan gave him a gentle push toward the door. “You’ll outgrow them soon. Go on, your mom’s waiting. We don’t want her to worry. And this will give you a chance to ask her about that party.”

“Yeah.” Zach picked up his pace, clearly a man on a mission. “See you later, Nathan.”

“See you, champ.”

Once the little boy disappeared through the door, Nathan finished the cleanup. Ten minutes later, as he was placing the last folded tarp on top of the pile, Catherine joined him, surveying the room from the doorway.

“This turned out great, Nathan.”

“Thanks.” He wiped his hands on a rag, watching her. He’d been afraid Zach would mention their conversation about marriage, but if he was lucky, the boy’s total focus had been on the proposed celebration.

Her next comment confirmed that, for once, Lady Luck has smiled on him.

“Zach said you mentioned a party to celebrate when the project is finished. He seems to think it includes singing, along with ice cream and cake.”

Chuckling, he tossed the rag on top of the pile of tarps. “I called it a
wrap
party—with a w. No singing involved.”

A smile tugged at her lips. “I like the idea. And Zach loves parties.”

She was keeping her distance, hovering at the door rather than stepping into the room. As off balance as he was by the kiss they’d shared yesterday, judging by her behavior.

He considered bringing it up. But he was still grappling
with his own feelings. For now, it might be better to table that discussion.

There was another issue he
did
want to bring up to her, however. One just as sensitive and potentially explosive. If he hadn’t come to care so much for Zach, he might leave it alone. But Catherine’s smothering attention, though prompted by love, was doing more harm than good. He hoped a few diplomatic hints might help her see the light.

It was worth the risk. For Zach’s sake.

Propping a shoulder against the newly painted wall, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Did you get him down okay for his nap?”

“Amid much protest. The nap will be history, anyway, come September when he goes to kindergarten.” A subtle tightening gave her features a fragile brittleness. “That’s going to be a difficult transition.”

“For him or for you?”

At his gentle question, she shrugged. “Both, maybe.”

“Zach seems ready to make some friends. Eager, even.”

She folded her arms across her chest. Not a good sign. “Letting him head out alone into the world worries me.”

“I doubt the kindergarten class on Nantucket is a dangerous place.” He let the hint of a smile play at his mouth, trying to coax her to relax a little.

It didn’t work.

She leveled a direct gaze at him, a world of pain in her eyes. “I didn’t think a convenience store on a quiet Saturday morning was, either.”

His smile evaporated. Instantly. “It shouldn’t have been. Which goes to prove that no matter how hard we try to protect the people we love, we don’t always succeed. We
can only do our best to keep them safe and then put them in God’s hands.”

“God fell down on the job that day.” Her eyes grew hard and cold. “That’s why I’ve taken on full responsibility for Zach’s safety.”

“You can’t be with him every minute, Catherine.” He maintained a conversational tone, tamping down any suggestion of censure. “And even if you could, he needs space to grow. And breathe. And be a kid.”

Her jaw tightened, and the mutinous tilt of her chin told him she didn’t like his comment. “You think I’m smothering him, don’t you?”

“I think you love him with every fiber of your being. I think you want the best for him. I think you’re willing to go to any length to protect him.” He chose his next words with care. “But sometimes that can backfire. Too much of a good thing isn’t always good.”

A flame ignited in her eyes and she propped her fists on her hips. “You know, you might have a different take on this if you were in my shoes. If you’d lost someone you loved to violence. If you had an innocent, vulnerable child who counted on you to protect and nurture him. It’s easy to give advice when you don’t have that kind of responsibility. When you’ve never experienced the devastating effects of trauma on a little boy.”

A cold knot formed in Nathan’s gut as a surge of ugly memories snatched the breath from his lungs. It happened once in a while, after some random comment stirred that rancid pot. But this time, instead of shoving them back into a dark corner of his heart, he heard himself speaking.

“As a matter of fact, I have.”

In the shocked silence that followed his reply, Cather
ine stared at him. But she was no more stunned than he was. He’d never even
hinted
at his dark secret to anyone. Only God was privy to it. And a man long gone from his life, whose specter could still haunt him on a bad night.

Slowly Catherine uncrossed her arms and let them drop to her sides. “Do you want to explain that?” Her tone was no longer strident, and her eyes had softened, encouraging him to confide.

He turned away abruptly. No, he didn’t want to explain. The mere thought of sharing his secret filled him with disgust and self-loathing—the very emotions it had taken him years to conquer.