Chapter 7

7

Tanner is just a friend. Tanner is just a friend. Tanner is just a friend.

Maisy forced the words through her head over and over and kept her gaze from straying to where he was sitting at the table, repairing the hammer of his double-barreled shotgun.

She had to focus on frying the black morel mushrooms she'd uncovered and the grouse she'd shot that afternoon after she'd awoken from several hours of sleep. Tanner hadn't been around, and his horse had been gone. A part of her had suspected that he'd left her in spite of their conversation earlier. Because that's what men always did. They left.

But she was used to it. So in spite of the surge of disappointment, she'd taken her rifle and headed out to scavenge for food. After the past week of spending every spare moment at Nelly's bedside, she'd had little time to hunt. And with Pa and Glenn having been gone for so long, she was out of most staple provisions.

She wasn't worried about going hungry. Her pa had taught her enough over the years that she could survive. She could easily locate edible roots and berries. She could pull fish from any river or lake. And she knew how to find game, even in the winter.

When she'd returned to the cabin, she'd had a couple of grouse slung over her shoulder and a bag full of orache leaves, tansy mustard, and dandelion plants. She'd also found enough serviceberries for several meals.

Tanner had also returned and started working on gutting some marmots—he'd apparently headed out to check on some of his closest traps and brought back his catches. To say she'd been relieved to see him would be an understatement.

Now that darkness had fallen, he'd washed up and come inside. He'd fixed the broken latch on the door before setting to work cleaning and repairing his guns—a daily task for an experienced hunter like him.

All the while, their conversation had been normal and comfortable as always, and there hadn't been any awkwardness between them. He seemed to be doing exactly as they'd agreed—keeping to friendship and nothing more.

As he'd worked at the table, he'd told her about traveling to New York City with Ryder and his new wife along with Boone, Ryder's son. The trip accounted for where Tanner had been over recent weeks. He'd gone to meet with his investigator, who was helping him in his efforts to find his family. But apparently the meetings hadn't been as productive as Tanner had hoped.

She flipped a piece of the meat, the sizzling lard turning it crispy and brown. And she let herself sneak a look at him, bent over on the bench, the parts of his rifle spread out on the table before him.

Without his hat, his brown hair was wavy, curling at the nape of his neck. His shirt stretched tightly across his broad shoulders and around his biceps, outlining his muscles as he unscrewed a bolt.

His fingers worked at each part with certainty and dexterity—long fingers with blunt nails. Those fingers had skimmed up and down her spine. So softly, so sweetly. And she'd loved it.

Nope. She tore her gaze from him and forced her attention onto the pan. But all she could see was the darkness of his eyes after he'd kissed her. The blackness had enveloped her with delicious heat—so delicious that she'd wanted to bask in it forever.

Would she ever feel it again? She wanted to. But she couldn't with Tanner.

Because he was just a friend. Tanner is just a friend.

Once more she repeated the mantra, needing to convince herself of the truth. Why was it so hard to do so?

Was it because of the kisses they'd shared? She didn't want to relive them, knew doing so would make it harder for her to think of him as only a friend. But she couldn't keep her mind from wandering back to those few moments when her mouth had been pressed against his.

She'd never expected kissing to be so enjoyable. She'd never expected that attraction could develop so swiftly either. Now the wanting was burning low and steady inside her and refused to be extinguished no matter how hard she tried.

"And so that's it." Tanner finished his tale of Ryder and his new wife Genevieve. "They're sickeningly in love and can't keep their hands off each other."

Maisy didn't want to keep her hands off Tanner either, so she could understand Genevieve's difficulty. "That's not sickening. It's adorable."

Tanner guffawed. "It's not adorable when they're kissing every time you turn around."

"It is adorable."

Tanner didn't banter back. Instead, he grew silent.

She glanced at him over her shoulder to find that he'd stopped working on his gun and was staring unseeingly ahead, familiar shadows haunting his face.

"What are you thinking about?" She'd never held back from asking questions and pushing for answers. Nelly had often accused her of being too bold and sometimes even being a pest. But Maisy figured there was nothing wrong with asking questions—that it was up to the person on the receiving end to decide if they wanted to answer or not.

Tanner kept staring at the wall, and he seemed to be lost in thought.

She slid the skillet off the front burner to the back. Then she scooped up a large spoonful of the meat and mushrooms and deposited the mixture on a bed of greens she'd already arranged on his plate next to the glazed fruit she'd cooked earlier. She did the same for hers, then she crossed to the table and put the plates down.

The sight and scent of the meal drew him back to the present. He bent and dragged in a whiff of the food. "You're an amazing cook, Maisy. You can take anything and make it into a delicious meal."

She smiled at his words of praise. "Thank you."

"It's the truth." He picked up his fork and dug in.

She stood by the table, let him take one bite, then she asked her question again. "So, what's bothering you? That you didn't find your family the way you'd hoped?"

He finished swallowing, then dangled his fork above his plate. "I've decided to stop searching for my family."

Considering how important it was to him, he couldn't be serious—except that his expression was serious.

"You can't stop." She knew how much he'd wanted to find out about his past—where he and Ryder had come from and if they had any living relatives. "It's important to you."

"Not anymore." Tanner spoke the words with a resignation that Maisy didn't like.

"Course it still is. Now that your investigator knows your and Ryder's real names and those of your parents, it's just gonna be a matter of time before something turns up."

He took another bite of his meal, chewed, and swallowed before speaking again. "During my last few days in New York City, I realized something."

She pulled out the bench adjacent to his and sat down.

"I realized that Ryder and I have both handled the losses in our past in different ways." Once again Tanner stared at the wall, clearly trying to make sense of the pain of all that had happened to him as a little boy. "He kept trying to forget about it, while all I've done is try to remember it."

She'd only met Ryder twice, and while he was a fine-looking man like Tanner, he'd been reserved and gruff and temperamental. "It's okay to handle it differently. You're different than Ryder."

Tanner nodded. "Ryder's stopped trying to forget and is making peace with his past. Because of that, he's finally able to move on with his life."

From everything Tanner had told her, Ryder had indeed moved on and was relishing his new life with Genevieve.

"If I can stop having to know everything and learn more, then maybe I'll be able to find peace too."

She reached over and placed a hand on his arm. The second she did so, he flinched and drew back, almost as though she'd scorched him. Then he shoveled in a mouthful of food.

She swiped up her fork and took a bite of her meal. How had it become so natural to touch Tanner? Should she apologize? On the other hand, why should she? She hadn't meant anything by it.

"You can't be so jumpy every time we touch, Tanner."

He paused in chewing.

"There's nothin' wrong with me patting your arm." Was there?

He swallowed, then blew out a breath. "I'm trying hard to forget all about what happened outside earlier today." He didn't have to say the kissing for her to know that's what he was referring to. "But since just looking at you makes it hard enough to forget, you touching me will make it impossible."

The same heat as earlier sparked again in the air between them. It was alive and magnetic and made her want to draw closer to him. How could her desire charge to life so easily after it had been stomped out earlier? Or maybe it hadn't died out. Maybe it was impossible to stomp out. Maybe it would always linger somewhere inside of her.

After all, Tanner was a pretty special man, and she doubted she'd ever meet anyone else like him. Granted, she hadn't met all that many men in her isolated life, but she didn't hold out too much hope that she'd find another man like Tanner once she reached Minnesota and her aunt.

"Can we agree to no touching?" he asked, his voice sounding strained. "No matter how innocent it might seem?"

Because apparently it wasn't so innocent... for either one of them.

Even so, she had to tease him and find a way to ease the tension between them. "So I can't do this?" She reached over and mussed his hair.

He sat up straighter, his eyes widening.

"Or this?" She socked his arm with her knuckles.

This time a slow grin worked its way up his lips.

"What about this?" She shoved at his chest.

"No. None of it."

Smiling, she picked up her fork again. "You're no fun."

He ate another bite through his grin.

She did the same. Even though she could never be in a serious relationship with Tanner Oakley, she'd always care about him. It was impossible not to.