by Leslie North
“You got pictures in there?” Cade was watching him curiously.
“Yeah.” Tucker took another drink. “From high school. I haven’t taken this out since then.”
“Most of your dark room equipment is still at the house, if you want to try it. I’m not sure if the chemicals are still good, but it’s worth a shot.”
Tucker grimaced and switched out the camera for his beer. “Maybe later.” He drained the rest of the drink and met his brother’s eyes. “Things didn’t go that well at Avery’s.”
“No?” Cade’s eyebrows shot up. “Liam said he found an X-ray machine for a good price. I thought you’d have bought it.”
“I did,” he said helplessly. The story poured out of him, starting in high school with his ill-advised breakup and ending with Avery discovering the new machine. “She’s so buttoned-up tight now that I don’t think I can get the full story of the breakup out of her. She won’t tell me what the worst of it was. It always seems like she’s holding something back.”
Cade sighed, tapping his fingertip against his beer bottle. “Avery’s right about one thing. You should have talked to her about buying the equipment instead of going behind her back.”
“Yeah, I know it. She’s just going to sabotage her happiness and future by not accepting help.” Something brushed against the far reaches of his memory, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember what it was.”
“I don’t know, Tuck. Maybe—”
The two brothers were interrupted by the front door banging open. Shanna ran in first, and Tucker’s heart twisted at the familiar way she came into the cabin—like she’d been doing it all her life, and not the last couple of weeks. He struggled to remind himself that it wouldn’t have been like that if he’d stayed with Avery. They would have gone somewhere else together, not lived in this little cabin on the Wells farm. Or, who knew. Maybe they would have. He’d never know the answer to that.
“Look.” Shanna was breathless, happy, cold coming off her clothes in waves. “Look at the pictures I took.”
The girls had gone out into the fields with some of the cattle and then come back to the fence, where they’d taken turns photographing each other out in the snow. Shanna’s blue eyes practically jumped out of every single photo, her face alight with happiness. No matter what happened, at least he’d have this—she was happy. Even if Avery kept him out of the picture—and he dreaded the day she made that move—Shanna was doing great.
The door opened again to reveal Cade’s wife, Becca. A stab of jealousy sliced through him at the way his brother’s face softened and warmed at the sight of her, and the way she smiled back. They had their problems, he knew, but all those issues paled in comparison to the way they felt about each other. But with Avery, the troubles loomed so large they couldn’t see past them.
Shanna thrust the camera into his face again, and he was looking at a photo of Joey, grinning by the fence, when Becca spoke.
“Listen, boys. Girls. I came to invite you all over to the main house for dinner. You’ve got to be cold and hungry—don’t tell me otherwise.”
Joey rubbed her hands together. “What are we eating?”
“Tacos.” Becca laughed. “As many tacos as you can eat. And I’ve got two trays of brownies. Shanna, are you coming?”
Shanna looked at him, hope in her blue eyes. Tucker didn’t want to go sit with his brothers and their wives, watching happiness bloom all around him. He wanted to stay here and shut the world out. But the expression on Shanna’s face did something to his heart—something unique. He’d never felt it until he met her. And he couldn’t say no.
“Yeah, of course.” Shanna jumped up and clapped her hands, cheering. “Let’s head on over. I’m starving.”
14
The last thing Avery wanted to do was open the clinic. But a week after she and Tucker fought, the world presented her with no other option. On Tuesday, she shoveled the space in front of the clinic and spruced up the snow piles around the sidewalk. And on Wednesday morning, she’d come out to find a small lineup of locals waiting by the door of the clinic with their pets. It didn’t matter that she didn’t have a sign—they knew this was the vet’s place, and Tucker had done enough to make it look ready for business.
So she’d been taking patients for a little over a week. It had taken her some scrambling and a loan from her parents to get the final details taken care off—additional supplies to stock the clinic, a new computer for the reception desk instead of her old laptop, and a printer. But she’d done it.
Avery came out from the patient wing the next Wednesday and balanced her clipboard on the counter to make some notes on the case. Julia, Doc Oates’ old receptionist, smiled up at her from her seat behind the reception desk. She’d been one of the people in line to see Avery the week before and had volunteered to help out in the clinic a few hours a week. Thank goodness, too, because Avery hadn’t had a moment to breathe, much less hire someone for the job. Anyway, it turned out that Julia was indispensable. She, unlike Avery, could decipher the Doc’s handwriting on some of the returning patients’ files, and she spent all her downtime entering it into the new electronic records system. Avery would owe her for life.
“How’s Mrs. Miller’s cat?”
“Better,” Avery told her, jotting down the rest of her notes. “I think the eye infection should be cleared up in another day or two.” She’d seen Mrs. Miller’s cat, Princess, the week before. The woman had been white-faced with worry about her pet, and it was in that moment—introducing herself over the clipboard of paperwork—that Avery knew she’d done the right thing by letting them all inside. So what if she hadn’t been quite ready to get the show on the road? She’d have to get used to it.
There was a lot to get used to, but Avery tried to focus on the clinic and not Shanna’s favorite new hobby. Tucker had given her a camera when she’d been over at Cade’s, and her daughter was so attached that she was practically sleeping with it. Shanna balanced it on the very edge of her bedside table so she could reach out and touch it during the night. And Avery had to admit that her daughter had been taking some pretty good pictures.
The door to the clinic swung open, letting in a blast of winter air, and Shanna swept in with a big smile on her face. She waved to the woman in the waiting room and hurried over to Avery.
“Mom, look. I just took some pictures of the Millers’ youngest puppy. Check it out.” She flipped the camera over so Avery could see the screen on the back. She was right—the photo of the dog stole Avery’s heart. Very cute. And good composition, too. It made her think of Tucker, and she pushed that thought out of her mind. Not now.
“Oh, can I see?” The woman in the waiting room sat with a tiny puppy on her lap, stroking his back. “I love good photography.”
“Sure.” Shanna went over to the lady and showed her the picture, smiling so big she had dimples. “This was just now, right outside. Can you believe it?”
“I sure can,” said the lady. Avery glanced down at the patient list. If this was her next owner and patient, she was named Mrs. Brown. “You have a good eye for detail, you know. You should have prints made of your pictures. If you ever do, you be sure to let me know. I’ll put one in my house.”
Avery flushed with pride for her daughter, even as she fought off a swell of worry that Shanna took after Tucker too much for her liking.
Shanna came back over, beaming. “Did you hear that?” she whispered. “She thinks my pictures are good. I can’t wait to show them to Dad.”
Avery had to look down at the clipboard on the counter to hide her feelings. “I’m sure he’d love to see them.”
Things with Tucker were at an impasse. Thinking about him made her furious, and it drove another spike into her wounded pride. She’d wanted, all these years, to set up her own independent practice so she didn’t have to rely on other people. Tucker had gone ahead and blown that out of the water. Even if she found it in her to accept the X-ray machine, she’d still owe him, an
d she hated being stuck in that position. There was no way to ever repay him for what he’d done, and there was no way to send the equipment back.
And then there was Shanna. She’d found a second home at Wells Ranch and went between the two places as easily as if they’d always lived here. She had bloomed. It wasn’t that Avery didn’t think she was enough. She’d done a good job with her daughter. She’d encouraged a relationship with her own parents and made sure Shanna was happy with her friends at school. But Joey and the rest of her cousins on Tucker’s side were an unexpected gift to Shanna. She was so happy.
Avery only wished she’d tone down the constant talk about Tucker this, and Tucker this, and now Dad.
Shanna was enamored with her dad, and part of her was glad for her girl. She’d missed him for a long time, even if she hadn’t known who he was. But it hurt. Every time.
Her daughter had bent her head over the camera and flicked through more photos of the day.
“Mom, look at this one. It’s pretty good.” It was an outdoor shot of the clinic, from the angle on the road where people would pull in, and the sight of it tugged at Avery’s heart. The clinic looked…nice. It looked welcoming, even with the snowdrifts. It looked like someplace people could count on, with the wide blue sky above it and the sparkling snow surrounding it. Her heart pulsed with another ache. It was Tucker who’d made it look so nice. Avery had planned on doing it herself or hiring out, but Tucker had thrown himself into the project. She couldn’t even look at the countertop in the reception area without thinking of him.
But she had to stop thinking of him. This was too much. It hurt too much, and it stole too much of her hard-won peace, and it reminded her incessantly that she still wanted him. That she missed him. A part of her—a small, selfish part of her—was jealous that Shanna could go over to the Wells Ranch so easily and see him.
Avery pretended to think of something she’d been about to write down and scribbled a note on the top sheet of paper. Then she cleared her throat.
“Sorry about that, honey. The photo looks great. You’ll have to take one in the summer, when everything’s green, and we can hang it up here in the reception area.”
Shanna’s eyes lit up. “Or I could take one in every season and we could put them in the same frame. Wouldn’t that look cool? I think it would be. I’m going to ask Dad how to do it. Can I sit in the waiting room until Becca gets here?”
Avery ruffled her hair and laughed, her heart feeling a little lighter. “Are you kidding me? You know you can sit in the waiting room.”
Shanna looked out over the chairs, and Mrs. Brown patted the seat next to her. The two of them looked at Shanna’s camera screen, talking quietly about the photos. Avery took a deep breath and collected herself.
“Oh, she’s here!” Shanna hopped up from her seat and said her goodbyes to Mrs. Brown, then came over to give Avery a quick hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”
Becca waved from the door. “Hey, Avery. Call if you need her.” She winked at Avery, and for the hundredth time that day, Avery wished she was going over to hang out, too.
“I will.”
She saw Mrs. Brown and her dog, then came out to the reception area to take down her final notes. Julia had gone home, leaving a couple of sticky notes on the countertop.
A knock on the door interrupted her. She looked up, expecting to see Shanna running in to tell her one last thing or to grab something she’d forgotten.
But it wasn’t Shanna closing the door carefully behind her, shutting out the cold.
It was Tucker.
15
Avery’s blue eyes arrested him, stopping him just inside the door to the clinic. They hadn’t spoken in two weeks, and she still took his breath away. Here, in the clinic, wearing that white coat—this was where she belonged. He didn’t regret fixing it up for a second, no matter how things turned out between them. And she’d taken it further than he had. New photos hung on the walls, and the whole place had a sense of motion and movement about it. People used this place now.
“You’ve done an amazing job, Avery. I’m proud of you.”
Her eyebrows lifted at the words, surprise coloring her cheeks. But then she nodded, her face darkening. He knew he was the cause of that upset look. If the blame wasn’t all his, enough of it was that it had eaten him up inside. Ten long years stretched between them now that most of his memories had returned, though he couldn’t remember all the details of the breakup. Just a few phrases, here and there, and an overwhelming feeling of regret.
“Hey, Tucker.” Avery’s voice was cautious, hesitant. “What are you here for?”
“Can we talk?”
She lifted her chin, and for a heart-stopping moment Tucker was sure she would say no and kick him out of the clinic again. If she did that, he’d have to try again…but it wouldn’t happen until she was good and ready. That could take years. A decade, even. Avery’s shoulders dropped an inch.
“Let’s go into the house. Let me just close up here.”
Avery locked the door and turned out the lights. Tucker moved around her, ending up in the center of the reception area. She cleared her throat and moved past him, careful not to touch him on the way to the door that led into the house. Avery took a set of keys from her pocket and unlocked the adjoining door, then stepped through.
The hallway was different from how he’d left it. New frames decorated the walls, and he stopped to look at the first collection. Photographs. Pride swelled in his chest.
“Did Shanna take these?”
“Those, and all the ones hanging in the clinic.”
Tucker’s jaw dropped. Shanna had been showing him her pictures, but these were different. They used different angles and played with the light, and all of them featured things that a ten-year-old would find interesting. Her Animorphs books. Her mom, cooking. A notebook from school, open on her desk.
“She’s good.”
“She’s her father’s daughter.” Tucker didn’t miss the note of sarcasm in Avery’s voice. He silently vowed not to fight with her. Tucker pointed at some of the pictures on the opposite wall instead. She’d taken quite a few of animals, both in the clinic and on Cade’s ranch.
“And she has her mother’s love of animals. A winning combination.”
A smile broke across Avery’s face, one that looked like she’d intended to hold it back. It was there and gone in a flash, but Tucker saw it.
“What do you want, Tucker?” She sounded so tired, yet there was still a note of hope in her voice. Of longing. He knew that feeling.
“I want to start over.” He wanted to go back ten years and do things all over again, but that wasn’t an option. “I’ve got most of my memories back, but I still don’t remember the breakup. Or at least every detail of it. And I believe you,” he said quickly, before she could protest. “I believe your side of it. I just think there’s still something missing.”
“I don’t see how there could be.” She let her arms hang by her side. That had to be a good sign, right? If she was really pissed, she’d fold them over her chest. And then he’d find himself out in the snow, alone.
“Because I remember how good we used to be.” He had so many sun-soaked memories of her from school. It seemed to him that he had always seen her in the sun, even on the dreariest winter days. “We used to talk about our life plans together. It never seemed like anything was out of reach, with you by my side. And I think you felt the same way.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“It was,” he agreed. “But it’s not all that different now.”
Avery snorted.
“It’s not,” he insisted. “We’re both in town to stay, this time around. We both want the same thing.”
She cocked her head to the side, studying him. “Do we?”
“Yeah.” Hope flickered brightly inside him. He couldn’t help it. “We have Shanna in common, and we both want her to be happy.” Tears came to Avery’s eyes, but she blinked them back. The only
evidence was an extra shine. “We got the clinic fixed up together, and that could be the very start of it. We could make a life together, Avery.”
Her face softened, and Avery’s lips parted, as though she wanted to taste the words coming out of his mouth. At that moment, her stomach growled—loud.
Tucker laughed, joy rippling through him. “How about I make us some dinner and we can keep talking?”
“Part of me wants to fight you.” Avery frowned. “But part of me is really hungry.”
In the kitchen, he found steaks chilling in the fridge and set about making steak and eggs. Avery took a seat at the kitchen table and kicked her feet up, just like she had in high school. He wanted to hear her voice.
“How was work?” It was a far less sensitive question.
“Oh, it was…unexpectedly busy.” She let out a little chuckle. “I wasn’t going to open the clinic but people from town lined up one morning. I couldn’t send them away.” Avery told him about the pets who were the first patients in each of the exam rooms, and the owners who had been desperate to get a vet appointment, and all the grateful thanks she got. She told him about the bouquet of flowers Mrs. Miller sent for the reception desk, and the puppy that got loose and sprinted around the waiting area, barking like he was free in an open field.
“That sounds great,” Tucker said. “We should have a grand opening.”
Avery sucked in a breath, and he abandoned the plates he was fixing to look her in the eye. She sat up straight in her chair, eyes on him, face slightly flushed. “You keep saying we, Tucker.”
“I’ll stop, if you want.”
Avery stood up slowly from her seat. “That’s the thing. I don’t want.” She crossed the room and traced her fingertips down the side of his cheek. “I’ve been so furious with you. And yet this is the most relaxed I’ve felt since you went back to your own ranch.”