Everything was right in Tucker’s world.
Sixteen years ago, July
There was nothing worse than being told you couldn’t have a thing, Ginny Stone decided.
Her mother, Deb, eyed her hard and handed her another plate to wash. They stood side by side at the kitchen sink, cleaning up the lunch dishes. “Whatever mischief you’re currently plotting, stop right now.”
Ginny offered an innocent smile. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, mother dear.”
A loud burst of laughter was the instant response. “Oh, sweetie, you are a handful. But I am onto you.” Deb Stone leaned closer. “I also love you more than you know. You’re in a tough place, and I get that. But you need to let your older brothers have some space these days.”
“So that Luke can go suck face with Courtney Masseny?” Ginny shrugged. “I suppose I don’t want to witness that anyway.”
Her mom blinked for a second. “Courtney? I didn’t see that one coming.”
“Please. She’s been after him since third grade,” Ginny complained.
“And you would know this how?” her mom asked with real curiosity.
“We take the bus every day, Mom. ‘The ride to and from school is an education all in itself’,” Ginny quipped. “That’s what Caleb said the other day in his ‘I’m older and wiser than you’ voice.”
“Caleb is older, and hopefully wiser, than you.” Mom shook her head slowly. “Back to the matter at hand, your brother Luke…sucking face…notwithstanding, you need to remember there’s a big age gap between you and Dare and the boys right now.”
“Same four years that’s always been there with Luke. And only two between us and Walker.” Ginny grinned. “I know math isn’t my strong suit, but I’m pretty sure I have that part figured out.”
“Heaven help us if you ever have to do any real accounting,” her mom teased. “Yes, it’s the same four years it’s always been. But four years works something like magic when it comes to being alive. When Dustin was born, Shayla was already three. They didn’t do anything together back then. Now that they’re older, they play together a bit more, but Shayla is still able to do more than he is.”
“I assume this lecture will eventually have a point.” Ginny dodged the snap of the towel her mom cracked at her butt. “Hey, that’s not fair. I’m not armed.”
“You’ve got a smart mind, girl, and a smart mouth to go with it. Learn when to use which,” her mother admonished. “And the moral of the story is, once you’re all grown up, four years won’t mean a thing because time seems to compress the older you get. But right now, you’re thirteen. Four years between you and Luke and Tucker means you’re on this step, and they’re over here. Let them be for a while.”
Ginny did the math in her head. “You’re saying I should leave them alone now, but once I’m grown up, I can bug them all I want?”
Her mother actually rolled her eyes before giving Ginny the look. “Go for it. Once you’re an adult, you will hopefully have learned how to act and who to spend your time and energy on. They can tell you to go away if they want.”
Which meant, if she’d done the figuring properly, Ginny had seven years to wait. “So when I’m twenty?”
“Try twenty-one,” her mom said, pulling her in for a hug. “Don’t try to grow up too quickly, sweetie. One step at a time. That’s the best way to do anything.”
Eight long years until she was a grown up. Ginny sighed.
Well, in the meantime, she had her best friend Dare, and she had lots of time with her brothers, and Tucker, doing regular old fun stuff around the ranch.
But once she was grown, she would tell Tucker that they should go kissing behind the barn. If Courtney could wait six years for Luke—ugh—Ginny could wait a little longer for Tucker.
Thirteen years ago, February.
Tucker had never been in the Silver Stone ranch house and felt such silence. It wasn’t the quiet of a barn in the evening, with small animals moving comfortably. Not a peacefulness that spoke of life and potential and daily renewal.
It was the silence of death and loss and pain.
They’d buried them the day before. All five of those lost in the tragic car accident. Walter and Deb Stone. Joseph Hayes, his wife Jacquie, and their youngest daughter Shayna.
With one swoop, death had stolen away Dare’s entire family. Tucker’s heart ached at the sight of the sixteen-year-old currently wrapped in a blanket and curled up in Caleb’s arms. Her tear-soaked lashes rested on her cheek as she breathed unsteadily. She looked lost. So very lost.
Caleb met Tucker’s gaze across the room. Only four years separated them, but at twenty-four, Caleb had aged overnight as responsibility for the entire family landed squarely on his shoulders.
Because death had taken both of the Stone parents. Both of the Hayes, which meant everyone in charge of the ranch was gone.
Ashton was still there, and he’d do everything possible, but he was the foreman, not the owner. The ranch now belonged to Caleb, his siblings, and the broken-hearted girl in his arms.
The house seemed eerily quiet without Deb Stone laughing as she called out orders in the kitchen, or shouted from the office for someone to please bring her a cup of coffee before she passed out from accounting fatigue. It was strange to glance into the living room and not see Walter Stone in his favourite chair, speaking quietly to one of them in that no nonsense way he had that said firm and fair and yet absolutely loving.
Tucker had hurried to be there for his friends—the people who meant more to him than anyone else in the world. But now that he was at the ranch, he was powerless to do more than deal with chores and fight the tangle inside himself that he didn’t understand.
Twenty years old, and this was the first time that death had intruded on even the edges of his world. He was gutted—
How much worse did his friends feel?
Luke sat at the table, back to the room, staring at the wall. Walker paced restlessly in the open space between the kitchen and the mudroom. Eight-year-old Dustin sat across from Luke, his face streaked with red as he stoically tried to stem his tears.
Ginny was…
Tucker glanced around quickly, wondering where she’d vanished to.
Pivoting, he discovered the not quite sixteen-year-old in the kitchen. She had the coffeemaker out and the kettle on. The contents of what looked like half the fridge were spread on the counter in front of her.
Their aunt was in the room, but instead of helping, the older woman sat beside her husband on the couch, the two of them eyeing each other as if urging the other to hurry up and speak.
Meanwhile, Ginny worked. Her face tight, lips pressed into a thin line that was night and day different from her usual happy grin. She had plates out, and sandwiches for lunch in progress.
There. Something he could help with. Tucker crossed the room and silently joined her.
She paused for barely a second before reaching into the cupboard and pulling down two enormous pitchers. She tilted her head toward the freezer. “Can you make juice? There are cans in there.”