Healing the Widower's Heart. Susan Anne Mason
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“You won’t tell my dad about this, will you?”
“About what?” She frowned, then recognized the embarrassment on his face. “You mean, that you were crying?”
He nodded, not looking at her. “My dad never cries.”
“I’m sure he does in private. Most dads don’t like to cry in front of anyone.”
Zach shook his head. “He says men don’t cry.”
Annoyance prickled at that kind of archaic, macho belief. “Crying is nothing to be ashamed of, honey. It helps your heart heal.”
“I guess.” But he didn’t sound convinced.
With gentle fingers, she pushed an unruly curl off his forehead. “Anytime you feel sad or like crying, you can come to me. I’ll be your safe place where you can say or do whatever you want. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Her heart tumbled when he raised vulnerable eyes to hers and swiped a hand across his nose. She pulled a tissue from her pocket and handed it to him. “You ready to join the others for another canoe lesson?”
When he nodded, she held out her hand. “Come on, I’ll walk you down.”
With his trusting hand in hers, they made their way to the lake. Paige lifted a prayer as she walked.
Lord, please use me to be Zach’s place of refuge. Let him feel safe with me and allow me to ease his pain. And while You’re at it, I could use some help getting through to his father.
Secretly, Paige thought that breaking down Nathan’s walls might prove to be the tougher job all around.
* * *
Nathan’s footsteps echoed down the hallway outside the auditorium, where, according to the posted schedule, the children should be practicing songs for a play. He’d slip in and watch the end of the rehearsal until he could speak with Miss McFarlane.
With some effort, Nathan pushed back his resentment at another summons from the persistent woman. He hadn’t really spoken to her—other than a brief hello at the opening of camp—since the canoe-tipping incident, and he suspected Zach had done something else to incur her discipline. He only hoped it wasn’t serious enough for Miss McFarlane to banish Zach from the camp altogether. Though he had to admit, despite the tension between them, he missed Zach’s presence in the suite they’d shared for a few days before camp started. Nathan sighed. At least, from what Nathan was able to observe, Zach seemed to be enjoying the camaraderie with other boys his age.
Nathan paused at the door to the auditorium and tugged at the collar of his polo shirt. For reasons he couldn’t name, Paige McFarlane unsettled him, challenged him, made him feel like an incompetent parent. Then again, maybe it was his own insecurity talking.
In any case, he needed to put his personal feelings aside and allow her to do her job—because he couldn’t deny that whether or not she’d gotten Zach to open up about his mother’s death, she’d already brought about changes in his son that Nathan could not. He’d witnessed Zach interacting with the other kids, watched him laughing and playing like a normal seven-year-old. That alone was worth putting up with Miss McFarlane’s superior attitude.
He placed a hand on the door handle, cracked it open an inch, then stopped to listen. A voice as pure and sweet as liquid honey floated on the air toward him. Who was that singing? Surely not one of the children. Nathan nudged the door open and slid inside. His insides quivered, resonating with the deep tone of the piano. He hadn’t listened to any music since Cynthia’s funeral. Music evoked too many powerful emotions—emotions he’d fought long and hard to repress.
He paused now, however, to let the beauty of the song roll over him, squinting to see whom the exquisite voice belonged to. Rendered immobile, he could only stare.
The person singing was none other than Paige McFarlane.
He stood riveted in place while her voice, as soothing as a balm, reached some secret place inside him and touched his very soul. The song ended on a poignant note, at which time the children burst into loud applause.
Nathan blinked in an effort to break the spell that had befallen him. The soft stage lights danced over Paige’s pale hair, creating a quivering aura around her. Her green eyes glowed with emotion, giving her smile a euphoric quality, and for a moment, he wondered if she were real or an illusion.
A petite brunette rounded up the kids and herded them through the door. Paige hopped down from the stage and stopped to speak to the other camp counselor—Jerry, he thought his name was—at the piano. She glanced up, and did a double take when she saw Nathan. She said something to Jerry, then started across the auditorium toward him.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Nathan moved to meet her halfway. “I got your message. You wanted to see me?”
She clutched a book of music in front of her. “Thanks for coming. I didn’t expect you so soon.” She glanced back at Jerry, who waved on his way out. “I need to speak to you again about Zach.”
Tension banded across his shoulders as memories of being summoned to the principal’s office of Zach’s school flew to mind. He took a deep breath. “Could we maybe talk over a cup of coffee?”
Her mouth opened and shut. She looked down at her watch. “I guess I could spare a few minutes. How about the café upstairs?”
He nodded and followed her into the corridor. An awkward silence descended as they made their way to the outdoor terrace, one of Nathan’s favorite spots. Small iron tables canopied by striped umbrellas overlooked the water below, scented by baskets of hanging geraniums. Other than one other couple, the area was empty at this time of day.
Nathan pulled out a seat for Paige at a table by the low stone wall. Her long hair was loose today and flowed over her shoulders.
After they’d ordered two coffees, he leaned back against the metal chair. “That song you were singing, is it from The Sound of Music?”
She looked up, surprise registering in her clear eyes. “Yes, it is. We’re practicing a shortened version of the play to put on for the parents.”
“You have a beautiful voice.”
Paige looked down and moved her book to one side, a blush staining her cheeks. “Thank you.”
Maybe he was stalling, to keep her from telling him something unpleasant about Zach. Or maybe he wanted to relate to her on a more personal level, instead of as a therapist. Whatever the reason, he wanted to know more about this woman. “Where did you learn to sing like that?”
The waiter arrived and set down their cups with a brief nod to Paige. She picked up a packet of sugar. “Both my parents have musical backgrounds. My father teaches music at the high school in my hometown, and we were all involved in the church choir.” She stirred her coffee, the spoon clinking against the ceramic mug. “Speaking of voices, Zach sings well for his age. Does musical talent run in your family, too?”
Nathan paused to consider her unexpected question. Other than hymns, he hadn’t thought about singing in years. “I used to sing in high school and did a little college theater. In fact, I played the captain in The Sound of Music my senior year.”
“How ironic we picked that particular piece.” Her lips quirked as if she was trying not to laugh.
He had to stop looking at her mouth. He took a long sip of his coffee, enjoying the strong burst of flavor, then set down his cup. “Miss McFarlane—”
“Please, call me Paige.”
“Paige then. What did you want to see me about?”
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