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Bozeman was about a half hour east of Thunder Canyon. Truth be told, he was more interested in other things about her than where she grew up. “I don’t know a tactful way to ask this, so I’m going to just ask. Is Jonah’s father involved in his life?” His gaze dropped again to her hand that was devoid of a wedding ring.
“Jonah’s father died before he was born.”
“I’m sorry.” Zane saw her swallow hard and take a breath. Obviously she’d loved the man a lot.
Before Zane could say anything else, Jonah scrambled back through the doorway and up onto a chair. “I’m ready,” he announced.
“So are we,” Jeannette singsonged back, recovering from whatever turmoil Zane’s question had caused. Already he could tell she was a good mom. Whenever he’d dated before, he hadn’t even thought of something like that. Of course he’d never dated anyone who had kids. And he wasn’t dating Jeannette, either. He was just—Having a meal with her…and her son.
The small table hardly fit the three of them. Zane’s long legs seemed to extend to the other side. As tall as he was, he couldn’t move without his elbow brushing Jeannette’s, or shift his legs without bumping Jonah’s knees. The little boy laughed when it happened. Zane made a game of it and Jonah giggled every time he did. With barbecue sauce smeared all over his face, on his fingers and on the spoon he used to scoop mashed potatoes into his mouth, he looked like he was having a great experience.
Zane wiped his fingers on a napkin as Jeannette ate another forkful of her dinner. “So, what do you think about the ribs?”
She seemed to consider his question with the importance he wanted her to give it. But then she shrugged. “They’re great, but the sauce tastes like the sauce we use at LipSmackin’ Ribs. I do have to admit the corn bread is wonderful and not something I should consider eating on a daily basis or my clothes won’t fit.”
Zane let his gaze run over her and there was male appreciation in his voice when he commented, “You don’t have to worry about a thing.”
Her face turned a pretty color of pink and he wondered if she didn’t get many compliments. She had a smudge of barbecue sauce on her upper lip and without thinking about it he leaned forward and wiped it away with his thumb. He hadn’t realized this simple gesture could have such an impact.
They both stilled as his finger lingered on her skin. She didn’t pull away, and he realized from the radar he’d perfected over the years that she was affected, too, by whatever this attraction was between them. It wasn’t one-sided. That pleased him a great deal. Yet it was too soon for him to touch her, or kiss her or anything like that. Jeannette had a son. Zane’s life was so chaotic no woman would ever want to set foot in it.
He pulled his hand away from her reluctantly, and then took his napkin and said to Jonah, “I think you’re going to have a permanent barbecue mustache if I don’t get some of this off.” He wiped the barbecue sauce from around Jonah’s mouth and set the napkin on the table. “Your fingers are going to need soap and water.”
“Gran tells me to use lots of soap,” Jonah informed Zane.
He glanced at Jeannette and she explained, “Jonah stays with his dad’s parents while I work. Ed and I weren’t married, but they’ve become like parents to me.”
Zane considered Jeannette’s expression. It was watchful as if being a mother and not married would elicit some kind of judgment from him. He wasn’t in a position to judge anyone.
“I’m full,” Jonah suddenly announced.
“No apple pie?” his mother asked.
“Not now,” he said as he scooted off his chair. “Can Zane play a game with me?”
Jeannette glanced at Zane. “You’ll have to check with him.”
“Sure, we can play a game. But you’ll have to teach me whatever it is.”
“We could have pie and coffee after he goes to bed,” Jeannette suggested.
“Sounds good.”
Two hours later in Jonah’s bedroom, Jeannette finished buttoning Jonah’s pajama top, well aware Zane was seated in her living room, TV turned off, as he paged through a photo album with baby pictures of Jonah. Tall and muscled, he almost looked out of place on her mauve-and-green plaid sofa. She’d told him he could watch TV if he wanted to, but he’d just shrugged and said he’d rather page through the photo album.
“Mommy, can I give Zane a good-night hug?”
A lump came to her throat. “You’ll have to ask him if it’s okay.”
“I will. I like Zane.”
It was obvious that Jonah did. Zane had played with him as if they’d been buddies for a while. Mel and Edna were great with Jonah, and she appreciated everything they did for him. But they were overprotective at times. Mel didn’t play with him in the yard, just watched Jonah as he played by himself. There weren’t children in Edna and Mel’s neighborhood, and that’s one of the reasons Jeannette had wanted to enroll him in preschool. Zane, however, had played with Jonah as if he was used to being with kids, and Jonah had taken to him, lapping up the attention like a new puppy.
As Jonah ran down the hall into the living room—he never walked anywhere—Jeannette followed him. He went over to Zane and asked, “Can I give you a hug?”
Zane didn’t hesitate. He enveloped her son in a bear hug and squeezed tight until Jonah giggled. “You sleep good tonight, cowboy.”
“I will,” Jonah said as he waved to Zane, then walked with Jeannette to his bedroom.
She tucked him in and kissed his forehead, seeing that his eyelids were already drooping with sleep. “I love you, Jonah. I’ll see you in the morning.”
When she kissed his cheek, he mumbled, “’Night, Mommy.”
As she returned to the living room, she heard Zane in the kitchen and realized he was on the phone. She didn’t mean to eavesdrop, really she didn’t, but she heard her name mentioned, so she listened. “I understand why you fired her,” he was saying. “But I’m telling you if you keep her on, I’ll pay her salary.”
She was thunderstruck. He would do what? She walked into the kitchen straight-backed and square-shouldered.
Zane didn’t hide what he was doing. He didn’t put down the phone. “Yes, I’m sure about it. I’ll let you settle the details with her. I’m sure Jeannette will be speaking with you. You have a good night, too.”
Jeannette didn’t know what to say or how to say it, so she asked, “Why would you possibly do that? How could you possibly do that?”
“It’s easy. I had looked up the owner’s number on my laptop this afternoon. So I just made her an offer that was hard to refuse. You’re reinstated. You have your job back.”
“No, I don’t. You will not pay my salary. I’ll find a job and I’ll get it on my own.”
He stood very close to her, close enough to kiss. Where did that thought come from?
“Did anyone ever tell you that maybe you have too much pride?” he asked, almost rhetorically.
“Didn’t a woman ever tell you she might want to live her life on her own terms?”
He seemed to wince at that, but then he shook his head. “I don’t want to be bad karma for you. I don’t want you to worry about how you’re going to pay your bills.”
“I’ve been worrying about that for years, but I’ve managed.”
“Life is about more than managing…when it’s good.”
As he said those words, Jeannette saw pain in Zane’s eyes. They hadn’t gotten a chance tonight to talk about more than where he was from. She didn’t know much more about him now than she had before dinner. Had he kept his life hidden on purpose? If so, why?
So she asked again. “All right, so now I know why you would do it. Let me ask you now how you would do it. I mean, my salary’s not stupendous, but most people couldn’t just add that into their budget as another bill.”
“You really don’t know who I am, do you?” he asked, studying her so probingly that she felt almost turned inside out.
“Who are you?” She heard the wobble in her voice because she was suddenly afraid to learn the answer. After all, Dillon Traub had indicated he was a stand-up guy.
“I’m Zane Gunther.”
She must have still looked blank because he added, “The country singer.”
The only music she listened to blared from the Disney Channel. She’d ignored country music over the years because it had always touched her too much—bringing back memories she’d rather forget. But as she studied the man before her, a man she hadn’t recognized out of his stage-presence context, she remembered a poster she’d seen last year for Frontier Days—a community celebration to bring in tourists. She now remembered Zane Gunther’s ruggedly handsome, clean-shaven face, his black Stetson, the much-shorter hair, his twinkling green eyes. Her lips opened in surprise and she was absolutely speechless. Zane Gunther—the singer—had brought ribs to her house for dinner?
Zane had picked up his Stetson from the counter and plopped it on his head. Then he leaned into her, kissed her parted lips for a soul-stirring moment and backed away.
By the time Jeannette recovered her wits, he’d stepped outside and closed the door.
Too stunned to go after him, too shaken by his kiss, she touched her fingers to her lips and wondered if she’d ever see the mega-star again.
Jeannette mounted the steps to the Thunder Canyon Library on Saturday afternoon, determined to find out everything she could about Zane Gunther. She’d heard the name bandied about on TV shows after the Country Music Awards and, of course, during last year’s Frontier Days. But he looked so different! She didn’t know his music. And she certainly didn’t know why he’d be staying on top of a mountain near Thunder Canyon.
After five minutes at the library’s computer, however, she knew exactly why. He was escaping the paparazzi furor, anyone who wanted to interview him, as well as what had happened. She didn’t know which account to believe. Everyone spun a story the way they wanted it to be heard. She’d like to hear the truth from Zane himself. But which Zane? Mountain Man Zane? Or Zane Gunther, the country singer?
She might never have the chance to hear anything from him. He could be gone tomorrow!
Yet she remembered that kiss. Surely he hadn’t been as affected as she had. After all, he was Zane Gunther. Why had he even wanted to come to dinner at her place?
The woman at the computer next to her, obviously nosy, saw the content of what she’d been searching. “It’s a shame, isn’t it?” The curly redhead in jeans, who looked to be near sixty, around Edna’s age, obviously wanted to strike up a conversation.
“I don’t know much about him,” Jeannette admitted. “That’s why I was doing a search on him.”
“I heard he was asked to perform at Frontier Days again, but he turned it down. Maybe he’s afraid to show his face.”
Jeannette mulled over everything she’d read. “Or maybe he’s had enough of showing his face and everybody jumping on him.”
“Have you seen him in concert?”
“No, I haven’t. Have you?”
“Oh, I was there last year. He was wonderful! Makes you think he’s a regular guy.”
“Maybe he is.”
“Not with all that money. I heard he’s got a place in Nashville and one in Utah.”
“I suppose he travels a lot.”
“Especially when he’s on tour. No wonder he doesn’t have a family. Who could with that kind of schedule?”
Jeannette’s heart took a nosedive. She supposed that was true. On the other hand, she knew there were singers who had successful relationships and children. Why did that matter to her?
She shut down the search engine and was about to get up when the woman next to her asked, “So why were you looking him up?”
Why, indeed? She almost said, Because I met him and was curious. But then she thought about the story she’d read, the pain in Zane’s eyes, the way he’d looked at her. “Like you said, I heard a rumor he might perform at Frontier Days again this year. I was just curious.”
“Never happen,” the woman said with certainty. “We probably won’t see his face again until he goes to trial. I bet that family will win.”
Jeannette had no idea what would happen. But she did know one thing. From the change in Zane Gunther’s appearance, from the way he was living on that mountain, she guessed his life had already changed irrevocably.
Jeannette’s car was running rough as she pulled up in front of Edna and Mel’s two-story colonial house in an older section of Thunder Canyon. Since before Jonah was born, this house had been her home. She’d moved in during her pregnancy and stayed until a few months ago. But she had to be on her own now. That was best for her and Jonah.
She rapped on the door to announce her arrival and went inside. Mel and Edna were sitting in matching recliners watching TV, while Jonah played with blocks over in the corner.
He ran to her and hugged her around the waist. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too, honey. Ready to go?”
“You look beat,” Mel said matter-of-factly. He was usually cheery but always to the point.
“I should wear roller skates on Saturday nights,” she joked. “LipSmackin’ Ribs was hopping.”
Edna frowned. “Do you think they’ll have a winter uniform?”
Jeannette looked down at her royal blue short shorts, the skimpy white T-shirt that left part of her tummy showing, the logo on the front with its big red lips. “I’m pretty sure this is an all-year-round uniform. As fast as we move, we don’t get cold.”
She understood Edna wasn’t worried about her getting cold. She disapproved of her showing off her body. When Jeannette worked at LipSmackin’ Ribs with the other waitresses, she could make herself believe the uniform wasn’t so bad. But outside of the restaurant, she found it hard to defend. What happened when values and the need for money smashed into each other?
She had to pay the bills. A few business classes taken at night didn’t qualify her for a CEO position. Right out of high school she’d worked as a secretary for a textile company in Thunder Canyon. But it had closed its doors a few years later. After that, she’d worked for an insurance company in Bozeman as a receptionist. That’s where she’d met Ed. But early in her pregnancy she’d had to quit that job because of severe morning sickness and then a near miscarriage. After Ed died, Edna and Mel had insisted she come live with them to make sure she could carry the baby to term. Once Jonah had been born, they hadn’t wanted her to leave.
“Did you have something to eat?” Edna was a little plump, with silver wire-rimmed glasses and salt-and-pepper hair that curled around her face. She’d had a difficult time conceiving children. She’d had a couple of miscarriages and that’s why she’d understood the care Jeannette had needed so well.
Jeannette smiled at this woman who had become a surrogate mother to her. “I’ll get something when I get home. I used my break times to make calls.”
“Calls?” Mel asked, turning away from the TV again.
Jeannette absolutely shouldn’t have said anything. But now it was too late. She wasn’t going to lie and they’d eventually find out from her work schedule that she didn’t have her cleaning job anymore. She would not let Zane pay her way. “I was let go from Mops and Brooms. They claim they just don’t have the business they once had. So I’m trying to find something else that will fit in with waitressing.”
Mel and Edna exchanged a look and Edna became the couple’s spokesperson. “If you need to move back here, you know you’re welcome. Your main job should be raising Jonah, not scrambling from here to there to try to put pennies together.”
Jeannette wished that was so, she really did. But reality was reality. “I appreciate your offer and everything you’ve done. I hope you know that. But Jonah and I will be okay. I have insurance for him at the restaurant and I’m sure I’ll be able to pick up something else part-time. The next time I have a break, I’ll go to the library and put together my résumé on the computer there.” That’s what she should have been doing this afternoon, instead of researching Zane Gunther.
After another disapproving look that told Jeannette Edna and Mel wanted her and Jonah back here under their watchful eye, Edna said, “I made chicken salad. You can take that along. I know you. You’ll just eat a salad and yogurt at home.”
Jeannette didn’t know what was wrong with a salad and yogurt, but she held her tongue as Jonah put his blocks away and then slipped into his jacket.
Back at her apartment a short time later, Jeannette made herself a sandwich while Jonah got ready for bed. She’d just taken it to the living room with a glass of milk when he came running in, brown hair standing up all over, pajama top crooked. “Is this late night?”
When Jonah didn’t have to go to school the next day, she let him stay up a little longer. It gave them much-needed time together. “This is late night. What do you want to do?”
“Puzzles,” he said without hesitation.
“Okay. Pick out two favorites and dump them on the coffee table.”
Jeannette took a few bites of her sandwich and a sip of milk, planning to finish it while she played with Jonah. But there was a knock at the door and she stopped midbite. She and Jonah didn’t get many visitors. They weren’t here that much. She was on a waving basis with two of her neighbors. Maybe one of them needed something.
Going to the door, she looked through the peephole and froze. It was Zane Gunther!
So many thoughts ran through her head. Why was he here? Was he here because he wanted to see her again? Or was he here to sum things up before he left her life completely?
She looked down at her uniform and wished she could go change, even if it was to put a robe on top of it. But she didn’t have time for that. Not if she didn’t want him to leave.
