* * *
How did you know you were making the right choice?
She stared at the page a little longer, suddenly aware that the fire in her stove was dying. That she still had breakfast dishes in the sink, and that in spite of everything that was going well in her world, she was on the edge of tears.
What the hell?
Ginny gave herself a firm scolding. “Damn, you’re mopey. You need to get some energy tea brewing and snap out of it.”
Only one cup of tea later, when she was still feeling cranky, Ginny wrapped herself up and headed to the barn, climbing into the hayloft and dropping herself into the Operation Prove It headquarters.
Sunlight beamed in through the old window, turning the bales golden brown and lighting up the small space like a cathedral.
She laid back on the pokey surface, not even caring that she’d forgotten to bring a protective layer. She just stared at the rafters overhead and slowed her breathing as she listened to the distant sound of voices and animals. The rattle of feed pails, doors opening and closing, the occasional neigh or burst of laughter.
Familiar. Peaceful.
A soft creak on the floorboards brought her to a half-seated position as Tucker slid into the space and settled beside her. He rested his hands on the bales then sat quietly.
Ginny slipped her fingers over his. “Hey.”
“Hey. Everything okay?”
She shrugged. “I feel unsettled.”
He made a soft noise then picked her up, cradling her in his lap as he braced his feet on the center bale and leaned back. “Makes sense.”
“Really?”
“Goddess.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You forget what day it is?”
Ginny considered. “Wednesday?”
Tucker rocked her softly as if they were in some sort of giant easy chair. “It’s February tenth.”
Oh. “It’s the anniversary day.”
The anniversary of the accident. The day when everything had changed.
They sat in silence for a little longer, Ginny’s throat closing up in a most unwelcome way. “How come it still hurts so much?”
“Because you love them as much as you ever did, and you wish they were here,” he said quietly.
She couldn’t stop the tears. She wanted to, because this wasn’t her. Like she’d told Tamara before, she wasn’t weepy, she was strong. She could get things done, she could help others. She could make a difference.
But the one thing she couldn’t do was bring her parents back.
“I miss them so much,” she confessed, the words coming out broken and high-pitched.
Tucker gathered her closer, rubbing her back gently. “I know, baby. I know.”
It took a while until she cried herself out, and by then her sinuses were plugged and her throat was sore, which made her even madder at herself.
Then there was the other matter. “I’m keeping you from your work,” Ginny complained.
Tucker shook his head, still holding her close. He had provided a clean tissue so she could clean herself up. “This is what I’m doing right now, and it’s important,” he assured her.
She tucked the soggy tissues in her pocket before wiping a final time at her eyes with the back of her hand. “How did you know I was here?”
“A little bird told me,” Tucker drawled.
Ginny rolled her eyes. “Seriously.”
“Kelli saw you come in and mentioned it. I thought I’d pop my head in to see if you were looking for some company.”
She grimaced. “Such wonderful company. Sobbed all over you—”
“You trusted me with your tears,” he corrected her. When she would’ve protested, he raised a finger and shook it. “Life is not always laughter and sunshine, Ginny. I don’t want to be with you only when it’s easy, remember?”
He was a good, good man. Ginny dipped her chin. “I remember.”
He glanced around the space. “Is it time for an Operation Prove It meeting?”
Maybe, but there was something she needed his help with even more. “Would you go with me to Mom and Dad’s graves?”
Tucker’s expression went solemn. He dipped his chin. “I’d be honoured.”
First things first, though. Ginny wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed tight. Completely innocent. Completely intimate, because this man was quickly becoming an anchor for her very soul.
They had company at the graveside.
Ginny sent a message to Caleb to let him know what they were doing. Tucker had done the same for Luke. And then it only made sense to shoot a message to Walker and Dustin…
An hour later, a long solemn line on horseback shuffled along the trail up the hillside to where her parents had been buried. All of her immediate family were there except for Dare. Ashton had joined them, along with Kelli, and when the group dismounted and came forward, it was another one of those bittersweet moments.
Someone had been out earlier, because the graves had been cleared of snow, and bright plastic flowers poked up from the holders near the headstones.
After impulsively organizing the gathering, Ginny suddenly felt at a loss. What did she do now? What did she say?
Dustin looked on the verge of tears. Walker stared into the distance, nodding gently as if holding an internal conversation. Kelli had her arms wrapped around Luke’s torso, head against his chest. His lips were pressed together in a thin line, and Ginny realized he too was fighting for control.
Even big brother Caleb—strong, reliable, willing to do the impossible because it was the right thing to do, Caleb—even he had turned slightly away from the graves and held Tamara as if she were the post keeping him upright.
Somehow, she could do this. She was a Stone, and they were strong. She was a Stone, and they did the next thing. Her family needed her as much today as they had all those years ago, but inside she felt as if she had nothing to give.
Even as she took a deep breath, strong fingers tangled around hers. Tucker glanced down at her for a moment. Then he looked around the gathering and spoke in that clear, firm tone she’d come to love so much, and was strong for her.
“I ever tell you about the time I ran away from home?”
All heads swiveled their direction, curiosity replacing the sorrow and sad memories that had been the main focus.
Tucker casually wrapped an arm around Ginny’s shoulders, leaning back and looking up slightly, and damn if there wasn’t a smile on his face.
“It was spring. About the time every year when I’d start thinking summer couldn’t come soon enough. I was thirteen, which meant I knew plenty about buses and was cocky enough to consider hitching a ride if I had to. Because, truth told, I wasn’t running away, but more running to what I considered my real home. Silver Stone.” Tucker looked across the circle and met Luke’s gaze. “Amongst other things, my best friend was here, and it didn’t seem right that I had to wait another three months to see him.”
Ashton nodded, laughing softly as if remembering the story faster than Tucker was telling it.
“I was smart, all right. I packed a bag, bought a ticket, and rode all the way to Black Diamond. Pretty damn proud of myself, because I changed buses three times and hadn’t lost a thing the entire day and a half it took.”