Mom.
Ginny leaned back into Tucker, resting her cheek against his. She stroked her fingers over his and stared at the card for a moment. “Is it silly to say I can hear their voices reading those words?”
“Not silly at all.” Tucker gave her a squeeze. “I’m glad. They were good people, and your dad was right. You do brighten up every place you go.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Thanks. That’s a really sweet thing to say.”
She dipped her hand down and lifted the chain.
“That is the strangest necklace I have ever seen,” Tucker said.
“Me too.” Ginny lifted the pendant in her palm. Not quite a square, not quite a triangle, the wood was polished golden, but nothing super fancy. “I mean, it’s pretty, but it is a chunk of wood. An old chunk of wood.”
Tucker lifted the folded paper. “You up to do this right now?”
“Hell, why not?”
She slowly unfolded the page and they both went motionless.
7
The page in front of them made no sense. Mostly pictures, crudely drawn and inexplicable.
“My dad,” Ginny said as dryly as possible, because disappointment had swept in. “I’m pretty sure he thought he was being cute, but his drawing skills were terrible. Is that a horse, or an elephant?”
“Hippo,” Tucker guessed. “Although, the fact you live on a ranch is probably a clue that it’s a horse. Or a cow.”
“Probably, but not definitely.” Oh, no. She met Tucker’s gaze straight on. “Here’s where I need to curse a little at sixteen-year-old me. You know the number one thing I was obsessed with during that timeframe?”
Tucker grimaced. “Am I supposed to say the name of a boy band right now? Oh, I know. Kenney Chesney. He’s been around forever, right?”
As guesses went, that was pretty good. “That year was my puzzle and geekery phase. I wrote an entire English essay in Klingon. When the teacher complained, I resubmitted it, only this time in high Elvish. I sent notes to Dare in class using Playfair ciphers and then deliberately dropped them on the floor so other kids would pick them up and be confused.”
He raised his brow. “You think your parents gave you a puzzle for your birthday?”
She wiggled the paper in the air. “This part of it, anyway.”
It wasn’t the kick to the heart she’d feared, and in some ways, that was good.
She glanced for a moment at the box then shook her head. “Okay, the card turned out less shocking than I expected, but I’m not prepared to roll the dice anymore. The rest of the package has to wait until later.”
Tucker agreed. “If that’s what you want, then let’s get on with our day. Want me to make you a coffee while you grab a shower?”
He was a good, good man. “Since the magical condom fairies haven’t appeared, I’ll take being spoiled as a very close-ranked second option.”
He had on his stony face, but she could tell he was amused. “I’ll have to remind you how good the sex is. I don’t mind coffee being second, but it shouldn’t be a close-ranked second.”
“Coffee and shower, remember that part,” Ginny said. She threw herself at him and stole another hug. Breathed in the scent of him and wondered how much damage a nervous system could take from being thrown up and down and up and down in rapid succession for a lot of days in a row.
Coffee was ready as promised when she came out of the bathroom. And miracle of miracles, there was food in the fridge, so while Tucker showered, she made breakfast. First breakfast, like hobbits, because whichever house they went to next, somebody was sure to feed them.
But when Tucker demolished three of the egg sandwiches she’d made without pausing to breathe, she knew cooking had been the right decision.
He finally sat back, nodding his approval. “Thanks. I know fried eggs aren’t your favourite, but that helped lay down a base so I don’t starve before the morning’s out.”
Before they left, bundled up against the cold, Tucker shocked the hell out of her and dragged her tight into his arms, kissing her fiercely.
She enjoyed every second of it, including the stars floating in front of her eyes when he finally let her go. “Wow. Thanks?”
He winked. “Since we want to keep this under our hats, I needed a top up before we went out in public.”
They were out the door and into the blinding white snow field. “I think I’d like to go say hi to the girls. AKA, the cutie patooties at my brother’s house.”
“I’m going to see what leftovers Luke has. He asked me to join him.” Tucker waved and headed in the opposite direction.
It was too tempting. Ginny scooped up some snow and quickly packed it into a nice firm ball. Cocked her arm back and aimed…
Tucker didn’t look back, just called over his shoulder. “If you throw anything at me, I will get revenge.”
Well, damn. “When did you get eyeballs installed in the back of your head?” she demanded.
“I see all. I know all.” She held the ball higher, threatening, but he laughed and pointed at the side mirror of the truck he was passing. “Just kidding.”
Ginny was still giggling as she made her way to the back door of the house where she’d grown up. Stepping without looking to deal with the small out-of-kilter turn to reach the porch. Nearly banging her knees on a bench that hadn’t been there the last time she visited.
Familiar. Brand-new. She bounced between those two sensations every time she turned around.
As she entered the house, the scent in the room was perfection, though.
“Please tell me you didn’t eat all the bacon,” Ginny announced loudly.
Six heads pivoted toward her from where Caleb’s family plus Dusty and his friend were seated at the massive round kitchen table. Seven, as she spotted Tyler in his highchair.
Tamara gestured her forward. “Join us. There’s plenty.”
“I only need the bacon,” Ginny admitted. “And need is probably too strong a word because I already ate. Only, bacon—anytime, anywhere, am I right?”
“You’re so right.” The lanky dark-skinned young man beside Dustin was on his feet, wiping his mouth with a napkin before reaching out a hand. “I’m Shim. Here. There’s an extra chair for you.”
When he pulled out the sturdy straight-back beside his own chair, Ginny bit her lip to keep from making a joke.
Instead she pulled on her manners. “Thanks.”
She sat, staring across at Tamara. Her sister-in-law’s amusement was clear for a split second before she nabbed the plate with the remaining bacon and passed it around the table to Ginny. “You ate? That means you found the groceries then.”
“I did. Thanks. It was nice to cook something simple when I wanted it.”
“I figured you might have missed that lately.”
Tyler banged on his tray and made a complaining noise.
Tamara offered Tyler another piece of bread slathered in peanut butter. “Stop growling like a bear, please. Or growl softer so we can hear each other.”
“Grrr.” This from Sasha, who smirked mightily and elbowed her little sister. “Grrrrrrr.”