Chapter Twenty-Nine
T he house was in better shape than it had any right to be after the few days they’d had.
The floors were clean, the dishes were done, and the pile of unopened mail that had been breeding on the hall table was gone.
Rebecca Palmer had been through the day before, had checked what she needed to check, asked her questions, written her notes, and left without drama.
That should have eased things. It hadn’t, not really.
Tanner had held it together while she was there, then was quiet for the rest of the evening.
Miles was in the kitchen putting coffee on when there was a knock at the front door. He already knew who it would be because Cody had texted half an hour earlier to say he was coming by with Orsen and was “not taking no for an answer.”
Tanner was at the table with Savannah on his lap while she colored on the back of an old envelope. He looked up at the knock, then at Miles. “Tell me you didn’t invite half the town.”
“Only the useful half.”
Miles opened the door to Cody standing there with two grocery bags in one hand and a box of something under his other arm. Orsen was behind him carrying a toolbox and a folded step ladder.
Cody walked in without waiting to be asked. “Morning. We brought food and practical skills.”
Orsen lifted the toolbox slightly. “Mostly him. I’m here to stop him from making things worse.”
Cody snorted. “That’s rude considering I’m holding bacon.”
Tanner had stood by then, Savannah still leaning into his side, crayon in one fist. He looked caught between embarrassment and resistance.
“You didn’t have to do this,” he said.
“No,” Cody agreed. “But we did because that’s what friends are for.”
Orsen put the toolbox down by the door. “Miles said the back gate still drags and one of the cupboard doors is hanging off enough to be annoying. Thought we’d fix that before tomorrow.”
Tanner frowned. “Tomorrow?”
“The case conference,” Miles said.
“I know what tomorrow is.”
Cody put the grocery bags on the counter and started unloading them before anyone could argue. Bread, milk, fruit, pasta, cans, cereal, juice boxes, a multipack of yogurts, and enough snack food to keep Savannah going for a week. He held up a pack of dinosaur-shaped pasta with complete seriousness.
“This one is for emotional support.”
Savannah, who had been watching from Tanner’s side, pointed. “Dino.”
“Exactly,” Cody said. “You get it.”
Tanner rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “You really don’t need to—”
Cody cut him off without any edge. “We know. That’s why it’s help and not a favor.”
That shut the argument down. Tanner looked at the food, then at Orsen by the door, then at Miles. Miles didn’t step in. This one had to be Tanner’s.
Savannah wriggled free and padded over to the counter to inspect the yogurt. Cody crouched and let her take charge of choosing which flavor should go in the fridge first. Tanner stayed where he was, watching.
Orsen picked up the toolbox again. “You want to show me the gate, or should I start with the cupboard?”
Tanner hesitated and then he said, “Gate first.”
Miles followed them out back while Cody stayed inside with Savannah and the groceries. The gate dragged against the concrete at the bottom corner every time it opened fully. Tanner had mentioned it once and then clearly pushed it down the list behind everything else that mattered more.
Orsen tested it twice, crouched, and ran a hand along the lower hinge. “It’s dropped.”
“Yeah,” Tanner said.
“Easy enough.”
Tanner folded his arms. “Nothing’s easy enough lately.”
Orsen looked up at him from where he was crouched. “No, but this is.”
Miles leaned against the porch post while Orsen worked.
He watched Tanner more than the gate. Tanner stayed close, not hovering exactly, but present.
That was new too. A week earlier he would have kept his distance and treated the whole thing as something being done to him.
Today he fetched a screwdriver when Orsen asked, held the gate steady when told, and took the old hinge screws without being prompted so they didn’t get lost in the grass.
Inside, Cody had moved on from groceries to cooking.
Bacon was in the pan, and the smell had reached the yard before Miles and the others came back in.
Savannah was at the table now with a yogurt open and a spoon clutched in her fist. Cody had found a way to make toast while also talking to her about whether dinosaurs could beat police cars in a race.
“Depends on the dinosaur,” Cody said.
“T. Rex.”
“Too short in the arms. Bad steering.”
Savannah frowned at him. “No arms for driving.”
“That too,” Cody admitted.
Tanner stopped in the doorway and watched for a minute before he moved again. It was brief, but Miles caught it. Tanner’s face had gone softer without him noticing.
Cody glanced over his shoulder. “You standing there judging me or helping?”
“Could go either way,” Tanner said.
“Then make yourself useful and find plates.”
Tanner did and that mattered more than the bacon. More than the gate. More than the food lined up on the counter. He just did it. No protest or pride getting in the way, and no need to prove he could carry everything alone when he clearly didn’t need to anymore.
They were halfway through eating when there was another knock at the front door. Tanner stiffened straight away.
Miles put his mug down. “I’ve got it.”
Mrs. Hemsworth stood on the doorstep in a navy coat buttoned all the way up despite the mild weather. Her handbag hung from one elbow, and she held herself with the same upright, no-wasted-movement posture she always had. She looked past Miles into the hall.
“I won’t stay,” she said. “I just came to drop this off.”
She held out an envelope and Miles took it. “What is it?”
“A letter.” Her mouth flattened slightly. “I assumed that part was obvious.”
Behind him, Cody made a choking sound into his coffee that might have been a laugh, which Miles decided to ignore.
“For tomorrow?” he asked.
“Yes.” She shifted her gaze past him. “Is Tanner in?”
Miles stepped back. “Yeah.”
Tanner appeared in the hall a second later, wiping his hands on a dish towel. He stopped when he saw her. “Mrs. Hemsworth.”
“I heard there was a meeting tomorrow.”
He glanced at Miles, then back at her. “How’d you hear that?”
“Robinson isn’t large enough for secrets.” She held his eyes. “And TJ told me there might be use in a written statement.”
Tanner stilled. “You did one?”
“Yes.”
He took the envelope from Miles and looked at it without opening it. “You didn’t have to.”
Mrs. Hemsworth’s narrowed her eyes. “I’m beginning to suspect young men in this town are all raised with the same irritating sentence.”
Cody, still in the kitchen, called out, “Accurate.”
She ignored him completely. “You were sixteen when your parents died. Sixteen when I first saw you carrying Savannah in your arms while trying to fill in forms at the station. You always had milk for her and spare clothes and her rabbit when she cried. You were too young for any of it, but you did it anyway.”
Tanner didn’t move.
Mrs. Hemsworth nodded toward the envelope. “I put the truth in writing. That you raised her. That you have always been responsible. That whatever official language they want to use now doesn’t change what has already been true for years.”
Tanner looked down at the envelope. His throat worked once before he spoke. “Thank you.”
Mrs. Hemsworth gave a short nod then she glanced into the kitchen and spotted Savannah on the chair.
Savannah waved her spoon. “Hello.”
Mrs. Hemsworth’s whole face changed. “Hello, sweetheart.”
Savannah held up the yogurt pot. “Strawberry.”
“A good choice.”
Savannah nodded. “Good.”
Mrs. Hemsworth looked back at Tanner. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Then she turned and walked back down the path before anyone could try to make more of it.
Tanner shut the door slowly and stayed with his hand on it for a second. When he turned back, he still hadn’t opened the envelope.
“Want me to read it?” Miles asked.
Tanner shook his head. “Not yet.”
Later, Cody took Savannah outside and helped her draw chalk roads on the back path.
Orsen rehung the kitchen cupboard door properly and tightened the loose rail on the front steps.
Miles fixed the sticking window latch in Savannah’s room.
Tanner moved between all of it, joining in where needed.
He held boards steady, cleared tools out of the way, made drinks, wiped down the counter after lunch, and once even asked Cody to keep an eye on Savannah while he ran upstairs with the clean bedding.
Miles noticed every bit of it because Tanner didn’t trust easily. None of this came naturally to him, but he was doing it anyway.
Late in the afternoon, Orsen packed up the last of the tools and Cody gathered the empty grocery bags. Savannah had chalk on both knees and a streak of blue across one cheek. Tanner crouched to wipe it off with a damp cloth while she squirmed and complained.
“Stay still,” he told her.
“It tickles.”
“That’s because you’ve got half the yard on your face.”
Cody slung the bags over one shoulder. “We’ll leave you in peace before I’m drafted into bath duty.”
“You say that like you’re useful at bath duty,” Orsen said.
“I’m excellent at bath duty. I bring chaos and bubbles. Macy and Christian enjoy it. Well, not Macy so much now that she’s older.”
“The chaos is why you’re not invited.”
Cody looked at Tanner before he headed for the door. “You need anything tonight, you call, and I mean actual anything. You’re not alone.”
Tanner gave a small smile. “Thanks.”
Orsen nodded at him. “Tomorrow, too.”
Tanner held his gaze, then nodded back. “Yeah.”
After they left, the house felt quiet again. Savannah had finally crashed out after dinner. Tanner put her to bed and came back down slower than usual, tired showing.
Miles was in the kitchen rinsing out the last two mugs when Tanner stopped in the doorway.
“They meant it,” Tanner said.
Miles looked over. “Yeah.”
Tanner glanced around the room. “People always say they’ll help. Most of them don’t.”
Miles dried his hands and leaned back against the counter. “These ones do.”
Tanner looked at him for a second, then nodded. “Yeah.”
Later, when the house was quiet and Tanner had gone to check on Savannah one more time before bed, Miles stood alone in the kitchen and looked around properly.
This wasn’t a fling he could keep separate from the rest of his life.
He wasn’t just choosing Tanner. He was choosing him and everything that came with him, and for the first time that thought didn’t make him step back. It made him realize he wanted it all.