by Vivian Arend
“You were taking part in a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity—”
“—that would have meant nothing if we’d lost Silver Stone.” Her throat was closing up, but she had to get this out. “In some ways, it feels as if my work means nothing anyway, because I wasn’t here, wasn’t part of the family to deal with the worry and the day-to-day struggles.”
“I didn’t want you to have to face that. None of us did.” Caleb leaned forward on his elbows, every bit of attention focused intently on her. “You were a part of us, though. Your calls and visits were highlights for everyone.”
“I’m glad to hear that, really. But still, there was a solid year and a half where things could have gone badly, and you never told me. I was even home for a month in the middle of that time, and no one said a word.” She shook her head. “Maybe you didn’t want me to face that worry, but by not telling me, you left me out, Caleb. You didn’t give me the chance to be a part of the solution. To be here to help make things easier to face.”
“You would have had to give up your apprenticeship.”
“And I would have done it in a heartbeat. Because I’m a part of this family, and I want to be here for you. You’ve always been there for us. Finding out later that I wasn’t a part of it doesn’t make me feel protected. It makes me angry. I should have been told.”
Tamara had sat quietly throughout the entire conversation up to now, her grip on her cup growing tight enough that her knuckles turned white.
She put the cup down and faced Caleb. “I never knew this.”
This time he turned his confused glance on his wife. “Knew what?”
Tamara gestured at Ginny. “That your sister wasn’t fully aware of the challenges we were facing. We talked about her all the time—about the things she could do to help when she got home, with the gardens and other areas. But it sounds as if you never passed on any of those thoughts.”
“They were plans for down the road.” Caleb’s confusion grew deeper. “I’m lost.” He shook his head as he looked at Ginny. “I’ve been trained a little better since you left in the fine art of listening when someone is telling me a thing, so I’ll start again. Ginny, we never made you aware of how bad things were—for reasons that made sense to me at the time. You’re saying that was the wrong decision.”
He paused and gave her a chance to respond.
“It was.” Ginny swallowed around the knot in her throat. “I am so happy to be home. I am so happy to have a home to return to, and I know that’s meant a lot of work and sacrifice on all your parts.” She included Tamara in her comment as well. “Please don’t think I’m ungrateful. This isn’t about that at all. And your good news is incredible, and I feel as if sharing this is a childish rant, stomping all over the beautiful cake you’ve presented me. But it’s been burning up inside me for the longest time, and I don’t want it to taint anything we do going forward.”
“Hell, kiddo. I’m sorry.” Caleb got to his feet and opened his arms. “Come here.”
She was in his embrace a moment later, tears falling freely. The safe, secure place in her brother’s arms felt right—
But she wasn’t a child anymore.
“I didn’t leave to go traipsing across the countryside on a holiday. I know gallivanting across Europe sounds exciting in concept, but in reality, it wasn’t always. It was damn hard work, and at times I was scared. Or I’d finish up the day dirty and exhausted, same as if I’d been at home. But I wasn’t at home, and I would’ve been if I’d known.” This time she said it clearly. No quaver in her voice, just complete honesty. Then she didn’t shout, didn’t demand, just calmly finished. “Please don’t leave me out again. I need to know I’m valuable to you. And protecting me by keeping me ignorant isn’t the way to show that.”
“I promise,” Caleb said, his voice a low rumble against her temple. “Of course, I can’t promise I won’t screw up at all, because making mistakes is what big brothers do best.”
“Ha.” She let out a long breath. “I’m sorry for dumping on you tonight.”
“Trust me. I’m far happier we’ve dealt with it now before you’ve got a full supply of herbs at your disposal.” Caleb snorted as she dug her fingers under his ribs. “Your magic elixirs are dangerous, witchy woman.”
Tamara raised a brow.
Ginny smiled sweetly. “Laxative tea. I don’t even remember what he did, but he deserved it.”
Two little girls zipped into the room, running full tilt into Caleb as he released Ginny from the hug.
“Dad, the movie was so funny,” Sasha shared.
“Sasha giggled so hard, water came out her nose,” Emma said softly, hands pressed to her mouth.
It was impossible not to feel the joy radiating from these two. Ginny dropped to a squat and examined Sasha closely. “Doesn’t look as if there’s permanent damage.”
Sasha made a face so reminiscent of Caleb it was eerie. “It was water, not glue.”
Behind them, Tamara snorted. “That’s a very specific observation that I don’t think I want any more details about. You two go with your daddy and get ready for bed. I’ll be in to say good night in a minute.”
“Good night, Auntie Ginny,” Emma said, turning her face up for a kiss. “You’ll be here tomorrow, yes?”
“For a whole lot of tomorrows,” Ginny promised.
One more hug from Sasha, and an impulsive additional hug from her big brother. Caleb pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’m glad you’ll be here tomorrow, too.”
The girls swirled away, bright happy leaves dancing around the tall sturdy figure of her brother.
Tamara laid a hand on Ginny’s arm. “Here’s where I apologize. I screwed up big time.”
Ginny shook her head. “You said you didn’t know. I don’t hold you responsible for a mistake Caleb made. Plus, I get that it was a mistake, and he meant well. This is done, and we can put it behind us.”
“You’re right, and we will move past this, but I still need to apologize because I should’ve known better.” Tamara looked sheepish. “You’ve heard the saying assume means making an ass of u and me?”
Ginny nodded.
“You and I have talked plenty over the past couple of years. Technology can leave something to be desired in terms of dealing with nuance. But I never brought up anything regarding financial or work plans because I assumed you would when you were ready. I thought Caleb had you up-to-date, and you were dealing with other priorities.”
Hell. “You thought I chose to stay away rather than come help?”
Interestingly, Tamara paused, her expression pensive. “You know, I can honestly say I didn’t jump to any conclusions as to why you weren’t coming home. I haven’t spent the past couple of years thinking ill of you, if that’s what you’re worried about. You’d made a commitment and you were sticking to it, and I—honestly—admired you for your bravery and the risk you’d taken to go somewhere so far away.”
Ginny took a shaky inhale before confessing, “It was damn far away at times.”
It seemed sister-in-law hugs were just as soothing as big brother hugs, although a lot squishier. Tamara wrapped Ginny up tight and squeezed, holding on for dear life. “You’re home now. This is your home, and I’m sorry that I did something that made you feel even the least bit unwanted or unnecessary.”
“You’re pretty easy to love,” Ginny admitted. “Adding in all the other wonderful things about you, such as you’re in love with my brother and my nieces, and you made a really cute baby. Plus, you can cook like hot damn.”
Tamara laughed even as she grabbed a box of tissue and held it out. “There’s something special about sisters. I can always use another in my life.”
Ginny mopped up her face then sat, finally taking a drink of the tea Caleb had made her, letting it soothe the tension in her throat.
“Next thing,” Tamara said, “before I have to go tuck in the munchkins. I suggest you keep living in the trailer for now.”
Astounded, Ginny lost
her words.
“Because I was thinking,” Tamara continued. “I know you used to have the room in the basement here, but I don’t think that’s a good long-term solution. Dustin is in the cottage where I understand Dare used to live. Dustin’s got a friend staying with him for the holidays, so we can’t kick them out yet, but there’s no reason why he can’t move to crew quarters eventually.”
“If Dustin doesn’t mind, I would love the cottage,” Ginny admitted. “Dare and I have been best friends since forever, so I spent just as much time there as I did in this house.”
“I don’t think Dustin would mind. I have a feeling he might be off on the road himself sometime in the near future,” Tamara said. She dipped her chin. “Okay. That gives you a little more grown-up living space for the next couple of weeks. You’re free to stop in any time, though, plus come use the washer and dryer whenever you want. But I’ll tell the girls the trailer is off-limits. That’s your space.”
Ginny opened her mouth to say something about the Tucker situation when Tamara held up a hand.
“Before I forget.”
She reached under the couch and pulled out a narrow briefcase-shaped object and offered it to Ginny.
The package was wrapped in parchment paper that looked age-bleached and faded in spots. The card on top featured Ginny’s name in a handwriting she hadn’t seen for over thirteen years.
“Oh my God.” Ginny traced a finger over the letters.
“I found it while cleaning out boxes that had obviously been packed since the accident. There were a few others all wrapped up, with names on each of them. Your mom was a really good advance planner, so this is from her. To you.”
The weight of it in Ginny’s lap was like an anvil. She looked up and saw compassion on Tamara’s face.
“I don’t think I can open this right now,” Ginny admitted.
Tamara nodded. “Take it with you. Let it sit for a while if you need, and if you want some company when you do unwrap it, let me know. Or Caleb—he would do absolutely anything for you.”
Ginny was getting choked up again. “I know. He’s the best, he really is.”
Tamara smiled, blinking away her own tears. “Kind of partial to him myself.”
“We need to stop this,” Ginny said with mock complaint. “I am the fun sister, and you are the get-it-done head chickie. We are not the weepy girls.”
“Head chickie?” Tamara snickered. “I will take that over many other nicknames you could’ve come up with. Give me a hug before I go rescue Caleb from getting begged into reading just one more chapter for the seventh time.
A final hug, and Tamara disappeared into the back of the house. Ginny picked up the three abandoned tea mugs, washed them and left them in the drainer. She pulled on her boots and coat then carefully loaded the present from her mother into a reusable grocery bag to protect it from the snow falling lightly outside.
She headed back to the trailer, where, because neither of them had done anything about it as far as she knew, she would eventually find Tucker.
One part of the tangled knot regarding coming home had been handily dealt with and completely solved. Thank God. Ginny had hoped it would be that simple. But it had taken a lot of mental and emotional energy to up and confess how she felt, and now she felt drained and so, so tired.
Only with the shock of adrenaline from the ghost from the past present she carried? It didn’t matter how tired she was, energy vibrated through her.
Wired. To. The. Hilt.
She actually snorted in amusement as she climbed the stairs to the trailer. Poor Tucker. He wasn’t going to know what hit him when he got home.
Ashton’s place was compact, only a little bigger than the crew quarters for the hired hands. Tucker looked around the two-bedroom, motel-like space with interest.
Ashton’s bedroom sat to the left, the second bedroom set up as an office space on the right. Between them was the bathroom. In front of all of it was an open living space with a small kitchen on one wall and a kitchen table big enough to seat four card players. Clean and tidy with minimal clutter, it was Ashton to a tee…except for one thing.
Nearly every single bit of space on the wall with the bathroom door had a colourful macramé hanging pinned on it. They were pretty, and well-constructed. It wasn’t that they were gaudy…
Okay, with that many, it was no longer charming, but slightly ridiculous.
Tucker hadn’t said anything the day before, but now it was impossible to resist. “You’ve taken up arts and crafts in your spare time?”
Ashton put the kettle on, pulled out a pack of beef jerky and threw it on the table. “They’re gifts. How the hell do you tell someone to stop giving you things?”
Tucker sat himself at the table. “You tell them thank you, but stop?”
“Sure. Tell me you’d say that to Emma. ‘Please stop drawing pictures to put on my fridge.’”
“Emma did not make the macramé,” Tucker drawled.
“Annoying woman,” Ashton grumbled.
Which answered the next question Tucker would’ve asked. There was only one female Ashton described in that tone of voice. Ivy’s grandmother, Sonora Fallen. Matriarch of the local Fields family and perpetual pain in Ashton’s side.
“You should just admit you like Sonora,” Tucker said.
“I’ll confess if you do the same,” Ashton shot back instantly.
Oh, hell. His uncle was not talking about Tucker confessing to an admiration for Sonora.
Tucker attempted to play innocent. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His uncle glared. “Don’t waste my time pretending you haven’t been mooning over Ginny Stone since she grew up. Plus, I’m damn sure that sometime in the past years that mooning became more than just wishful thinking.”
Not the comment Tucker had expected. Not from his uncle, at least.
At some point he figured Kelli, or maybe Tamara, would ask some pointed questions, because too many times that day alone he’d caught himself gazing obsessively at Ginny whenever she was around.
But his uncle? Hell.
Tucker leaned back and stretched out his legs. “Surprised you’re not warning me off.”
“So you admit it?”
Tucker nodded. He held up a hand quickly. “But nothing happened between us until she was old enough. I wouldn’t do anything improper. I swear it.”
A very unexpected snort escaped Ashton. “Son, that’s the last thing you need to reassure me on. I’m pretty damn sure she seduced you.”
Well, fuck. “What?” Tucker shook his head. “No. Don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.”
His uncle looked far too amused. “If you don’t have it on your calendar in triplicate, it doesn’t happen. And that girl is a pile of trouble— Correction. That woman is a pile of trouble, and she’s always known her own mind. I’m not about to read you the riot act when you’re both grown adults who can make your own decisions.”
Thank goodness for small mercies. May as well straight up admit to one part then—not the sex, though.
Tucker shrugged. “Yes, I like her. More than like her. If it were possible, I’d be doing what I could to make things between us a reality.”
A confession he had never expected to make to this man. Ashton had always been a good uncle, but this wasn’t the type of conversation they usually indulged in.
“That’s what I figured. So as a part of that dreaming Caleb just talked about, I have a proposal for you.”
Curious. Tucker leaned his elbows on the table. “Go on.”
“Since I know you like to have things plotted out well in advance, an annoying habit you got from your parents that has persisted in spite of all my attempts to break you of it, bust out your spreadsheets and get working on this.” Ashton folded his arms over his chest. “You’re right. I am interested in Sonora” —he stuck a finger in Tucker’s face— “and you are not to repeat that to anyone. But that means at some point I want to be ready to do
the next thing.”
“Makes sense. What does that have to do with me? Or Ginny? Or spreadsheets?”
His uncle offered a sly grin. “I want you ready to take over as foreman when the time comes.”
5
I want you to take over.
The words echoed in Tucker’s head, damn near rattling his brain. “You want to retire?”
“Eventually. I don’t want to stop completely, but I’m getting up there,” Ashton admitted. “I like what I do, kid, but I like it less at five a.m. after being up until three a.m. dealing with one disaster or another. That’s a young man’s task, and I left young a bunch of years ago.”
Tucker sat and let this new information roll over him. He mixed the idea of what Ashton was saying up with the goals he’d had on his own books for a long time and came up with a brand-new reality.
Seems they were going for blunt. So be it.
“I had planned to ask to be brought on full-time as your apprentice the summer I turned twenty.” Tucker watched his uncle do the mental math and his expression grow sad. “Yeah, that’s the year we lost the Stones and the Hayeses. They’d mentored me a lot to that point, along with you, and Walter had pretty much told me that was the next step. But with the accident, Caleb ended up raising not only his family but Darilyn Hayes as well, and no way could they afford to take me on. So I bowed out of that idea.”
“That accident turned so many people’s lives upside down. Damn drunk drivers. Damn them to hell.” Ashton shook his head then met Tucker’s gaze. “Truth is, that would’ve been perfect timing.”
“We can’t change the past. But I haven’t sat idle since then,” Tucker assured him. His comment to Ginny earlier that day came to mind, about how all of his past job experiences had been a slice of Silver Stone. That had been deliberate on his part. “Since I couldn’t be here, I did what I could to learn elsewhere. I’m not ready to jump in and take over today, but I’ve got a good base.”