by Annie Rains
Tuck choked on a cough. “You want to be up and walking by next Thursday?” he asked.
She glared at him. “Thought you said that I can if I’m motivated and work hard.”
“And with time. I said with time.”
“Whatever.” Maddie looked down at the ball that Shadow had laid in her lap. Instead of grabbing it, she began picking at an invisible piece of skin alongside her fingernail.
Tuck sensed that maybe her eyes were also welling with tears. He absolutely did not want to make her cry. He’d been sensitive about moving too hard, too fast and causing her to give up. Evidently, she was ready to push herself though, but now she had unreal expectations.
“Forget I said anything.” Maddie edged toward the end of her chair and put her hands on the armrests. “I’m ready to stand again.”
“You sure?” he asked.
“Yep,” she said in that clipped voice that the opposite sex got when they were ticked off.
“You’ll get there but you need to pace yourself,” he said.
Maddie wasn’t looking at him anymore though, and he wondered if she was even listening.
“Maybe advance from a wheelchair to a walker or a cane first,” he added.
Maddie’s eyes slid to meet his. “A walker is for old people…But maybe I could use a cane if it’s a cool one.” The corner of her mouth quirked as she met him halfway. “Like Johnny Depp when he played Willy Wonka. He kind of made it look cool.”
Tuck had carved a cane from cedarwood and given it to Renee when she’d been too sick to stand on her own. At the memory, his heart stung like salt water had washed up on an open wound. He hadn’t thought about that cane in ages. It was in the storage building somewhere, collecting dust.
“I think I know where there’s a cane that will work perfectly.”
* * *
Josie closed her laptop and looked out the window of her apartment. The sun was on its descent. She must’ve worked hours, writing something that felt dull and flat. She’d tried to piece in her trip downtown, riding a bike through the scenic streets of Sweetwater Springs. How the store owners had been so friendly, inviting her in and making chitchat. Bart wasn’t going to care one bit about any of that though. Maybe no one would.
When she’d run out of things to write about for her follow-up article, she’d started a list of future ideas to possibly pitch as freelance articles for other magazines. The list was long but none of the things she’d written down jumped out at her.
Now she was spent and frustrated as she stared out the window. A flurry of movement caught her eye. Blinking it into focus, she saw that it was Tuck and Shadow crossing the backyard toward the storage building where she’d gone to find cell phone reception on Saturday. She watched as he opened the door to the building and disappeared inside.
Leave him be, Josie. Because obviously, her resolution to keep things platonic wasn’t exactly working when she was with him. She’d been wondering if Tuck had a lamp hidden away somewhere that she could use though. The overhead light in her main room was too much. In her own apartment in New York, she often just used a small table lamp, and having things as close to normal as possible would help with the flow of her writing. When things were off, she was off.
So there it was. She had to go.
Slipping her feet into a pair of flip-flops, she headed down the stairs of the garage apartment and toward the storage building. Shadow must have heard Josie coming, because when Josie was only a few feet away, the dog bolted out of the storage building and ran toward her. Josie could tell when Shadow was working and when she wasn’t. When on duty, Shadow stayed at Tuck’s side. Now she ran and propped her feet up on Josie’s thigh, smudging her jeans with dirt.
Tuck poked his head out of the building, presumably looking for Shadow. “Hey.”
She offered a small wave. “I saw you out here so I thought I’d come see if you had a lamp in storage.”
“Lamp?”
She nodded. “I’m used to working by lamplight.” She was still petting Shadow’s head, finding comfort there because her heart was thundering so forcefully that it threatened to knock her over. That kiss hadn’t gotten anything out of her system. Instead, it’d been like an injection of desire flooding her veins.
“I might have a lamp. Let me see.” He turned back to the contents of the building.
Josie stepped closer. She remembered that Tuck had seemed territorial the other day when she’d been walking around back here. He didn’t seem as bothered today though. Maybe he’d been worried that she’d help herself to the contents inside.
She propped herself against the front of the shed and peeked her head through the doorway to watch as he searched through neatly labeled boxes of various sizes. There was furniture covered with blue tarps in the back. “Wow. A bit of a hoarder, are you?”
He glanced back at her but there was no humor in his eyes. “This was my wife’s stuff. Late wife,” he corrected.
Josie’s lips parted. She’d been careful not to mention his wife. But now it was front and center in the form of a dozen or more marked boxes. He still keeps them?
Guilt consumed her in one big tidal wave, followed by regret. She’d kissed him but he was married. Granted, he was widowed, but his heart still belonged to his late wife. That was obvious. “I’m sorry, Tuck. I didn’t mean to bring it up.”
“You already knew?” he asked, a little surprise playing in his voice.
She nodded, feeling even guiltier for some reason.
“Right. Everyone knows. I considered moving to escape the kid gloves everyone puts on around me, but…” He sighed heavily. “It’s my story. Leaving Sweetwater Springs won’t make me forget.”
He met her gaze, and sadness crossed his expression, like a storm cloud rolling through to the next location. “It’s been two years. I suppose it’s time I go through her belongings and give them to someone who can use them. It’s been on my to-do list.”
Josie also kept a to-do list but it didn’t have nearly such heartbreaking items to check off. “Do you mind if I ask what happened to her?” She covered a hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry. That’s too nosy, isn’t it?” Kaitlyn hadn’t known when she’d asked.
“It’s okay. You’re a journalist. Aren’t you all nosy by nature?”
Josie tilted her head. “I would take offense to that if it weren’t true.”
The corners of his mouth twitched into a soft smile. “She died of leukemia. By the time she was diagnosed, it was too late to do much but watch her health decline.” His smile vanished along with his gaze. Then he turned his back to her to continue searching. “Anyway, that’s my story,” he called over his shoulder.
Josie longed to step inside and wrap her arms around him. To comfort him this time and take away the hurt for just a moment. “So you’ve moved to Hope Cottage since she passed away?”
“Yeah. I needed a fresh start and a big dose of hope. The place’s name seemed like a sign of some sort.” He continued rummaging through the marked boxes.
“What are you looking for?”
“A cane for one of my patients.”
“Maddie?”
“Yep.” He took a few steps farther into the building, obviously not finding what he needed.
Josie followed him inside and leaned against the inner wall.
“Ah-ha!” He turned and held up a lamp for her. “Will this meet your needs?”
That question opened a can of dirty thoughts. Seriously? What was wrong with her? They’d just been talking about his wife not three minutes ago. No more drooling, no more kissing.
“Yep. That’ll work,” she said, forcing a smile.
“Great.” He brought it to her and went back to searching.
“Can I help?” she asked.
“No. It’s in here somewhere. I’ll find it.”
“Why does Maddie need a cane?” she asked, knowing she should leave. She wasn’t in a hurry to go back to her empty apartment alone though. She had a microw
ave dinner waiting for her that she’d purchased while out in town earlier, and that was all.
“She was in an accident six months ago and hurt her leg pretty badly. An injury like that requires lots of rehabilitation.” He opened a large box as he talked. “Her mom died in the accident so Maddie hasn’t exactly been in the mind-set to work until now.”
“That’s awful.”
Tuck nodded. “Her grandmother doesn’t appear to be in the best health either so she hasn’t pressed Maddie to go to therapy. They’ve wasted all these crucial months.”
“What about Maddie’s father?” Josie asked.
Tuck shrugged as he continued shifting boxes around. “He isn’t in the picture from what I’ve gathered. It’s just Maddie and her grandma right now.”
Josie shook her head. “That’s not easy.”
“Sounds like you’re talking from experience.” He glanced up.
“It was just me and my mom when I was growing up but at least I had one parent. She worked hard, and I was the latchkey kid who came home to an empty house and made my own dinner every night. Not that I’m complaining. She did the best she could when she was around.” Josie had just wished she’d been around more.
Tuck looked at her for a long moment, which made her squirm. Then he returned to searching. After a moment, he pulled an object wrapped in a white cloth out of a box. He peeled the fabric away and revealed a wooden cane.
“Wow. That’s beautiful.” Josie leaned closer to see the cane, which looked more like a piece of artwork than something one would use to get around.
“Thanks,” he said.
That was a curious response. “Wait. Did you make that?”
He ran a hand along the red-and-white-streaked wood. “It’s cedar. The Cherokee consider cedar trees to be sacred. In the ancient days, we used it to carry the honored dead.”
“So, you’re Cherokee Indian?” she asked. She’d been wondering but it’d felt rude to ask.
“Half. My mom is Cherokee but my dad is a balding white man. I get my hair from Mom, as you can see.” He offered a fleeting grin. “I made this cane for Renee. She was weak during her last few months.”
“And you’re going to give it to your patient?” That seemed like quite a sacrifice. Giving Josie a lamp was one thing. Giving a little girl a hand-carved cane that carried so much sentimental value was another.
Tuck closed the box and gestured that it was time to leave. “Maddie needs it, and I don’t.”
Josie stepped outside with her lamp and waited for him to lock up.
“She wants to go to the Sweetwater Dance next week,” he said, walking back toward the house. “She actually asked me to have her up and walking on her own so she could go.”
Josie shifted the lamp to one arm, letting it rest on her hip. “I’ve heard about the dance. It sounds like a lot of fun, especially for a girl Maddie’s age.”
“Yeah, well, her grandmother said no. She doesn’t have the energy to take her right now.”
“Then why don’t you do it?”
Tuck looked over. “Do what?”
“Take Maddie to the dance. You two have a relationship, and she needs you. She can try out this cane you’re giving her.”
“No, those community events are not my kind of thing,” Tuck said.
Josie frowned. “I missed most of the dances when I was growing up because my mom couldn’t take me, and I didn’t have a car.”
“See? You turned out just fine,” he said.
Josie chuckled and then went in for the kill. “Actually, I’m traumatized. I still have very deep emotional wounds about it.”
His gaze hung on hers, and her body sizzled. “Is that so?” he asked, obviously not believing her. And if she wasn’t mistaken, his tone was a wee bit flirtatious once again. How was she supposed to resist him when he turned on his charm?
“It is. I’ll go with you if you want,” she offered.
He hesitated.
“For Maddie,” she added. “It can be part of your therapy with her.”
He seemed to consider this and then sighed. “Okay. But only if you come along. This town has more than its fair share of matchmakers. Going to a community dance pretty much ensures that I’ll be targeted if I don’t bring a date.”
Josie swallowed. First a kiss, now a date? What in the world was she doing? Tuck wasn’t available, and she wasn’t staying.
“Great,” she said. “An added bonus is that it’ll be great research for my article.”
* * *
The following day, Josie decided she couldn’t stay in her apartment for one more second. It was a beautiful day outside, and she wanted to get some fresh air in her lungs. It would be good exercise for her knee and maybe clear her head as well.
After pulling on her sneakers, she headed down the steps of her apartment and glanced in all directions as if looking for oncoming traffic. Instead, she was watching out for Tuck. As she tossed and turned in her small twin-size bed last night, she’d decided that it was best to avoid him when possible. She’d already agreed to go to the Sweetwater Dance together but there’d be a crowd and no chance that she’d find herself lip-locked. She was the last thing he needed after what he’d been through. And she didn’t need any more complications in her own life while she was here. Kissing a sexy widower would definitely be considered a complication.
With no sign of him in either direction, she bypassed Kaitlyn’s bicycle and continued down the driveway on her walk along Blueberry Creek. After watching the water for several minutes, she turned to admire the neighboring houses. Some were big, some small. Each was different and charming in its own way. She imagined who lived behind the closed doors. So far, she’d liked all the people she’d met here in Sweetwater Springs. They’d all been so welcoming to her.
A quaint little log cabin stood out as Josie strolled. It had roses of every color climbing to the top. Josie’s fingers itched to get one of those roses, reminding her of Halona’s childhood story. Perhaps that was Mr. Jenson’s house, the man whom Halona had taken roses from and who she claimed had a bad temper. Even as a child, Halona had shown an inclination toward flowers. For Josie, her passion had begun when she’d written her first book report. She loved writing down the facts. Loved moving words around until they flowed perfectly.
Josie’s cell phone buzzed inside her pocket. She’d brought it out of habit but hadn’t really thought it would work out here. Retrieving it, she checked the caller ID to make sure it wasn’t Bart before tapping the screen to answer. “Hi there.”
“Hey, friend. How’s life at Hope Cottage?” Kaitlyn asked.
“Well, I’m staying in the apartment beside Hope Cottage,” Josie reminded her.
“Same thing,” Kaitlyn said. “Are you still crushing on Tuck hard?”
“He’s a widower, Kay. As you pointed out, he’s look-but-don’t-touch territory.” Josie nibbled at her lower lip, unable to not give all the facts—a hazard of her occupation. “At least from this point on.”
“From this point on?”
“I may have kissed him the other day.”
Kaitlyn squealed into the receiver. “You kissed?”
“Once. Okay, twice. But it’s not happening again.”
“What do you mean? Why not?” Kaitlyn asked.
“Because I’ve realized that he’s not over his wife.”
“Sure he is. He’s moved, and he’s even started dating a little bit. Mitch says Tuck is doing great these days.”
Josie frowned to herself. “I just don’t like being the rebound girl, even if it’s a casual thing. I like to be with someone who’s thinking of me and not the woman before me. I agreed to go to the dance with him next week but it’s strictly as friends and nothing more.”
“Uh-huh. Good luck with that,” Kaitlyn said.
“Besides, I don’t even have time for a casual relationship right now. I have articles to write”—even if she felt uninspired to write them—“and a new job to look for.”
> “You can have a career and a personal life, Josie,” Kaitlyn told her for the millionth time over the course of their friendship.
Josie swallowed painfully. “I know.” At least in her head, she did. Her heart told a different story. “So, are you calling to tell me a guest has canceled their reservations and I can come back to the B and B to stay?” Her eye caught sight of a squirrel poking around by the creek. She stopped walking for a moment and watched it scramble a couple of steps and then sit up on its hind legs. It repeated the actions, keeping a steady eye on her as well.
“No, unfortunately. Just missing you. The inn has been so busy. If I’d have known you were staying longer, I would’ve made arrangements to have more help at the inn so we could hang out more.”
“It’s okay,” Josie said. “I’ve been hard at work too.”
“Well, let’s make time for coffee or lunch sometime this week. Then you can tell me more about this thing with Tuck that you insist isn’t a thing.”
“Sounds good.” Josie watched the squirrel scamper away. If she kept her distance and her hands to herself at the dance, that would be true. Things would fizzle out like they always did. That’s what Josie needed to happen with Tuck, even if another part of her wanted something entirely different.
CHAPTER TEN
The following Monday, Maddie wobbled slightly as she shifted her weight onto her good leg and pushed her right leg forward.
“Good,” Tuck encouraged. “Do you like the cane?” he asked.
“I love it. It’s actually kind of cool. A few kids at school even said so. I just wish I could use it all the time.”
“Slow and steady wins the race,” Tuck reminded her.
“I’m not a turtle,” she quipped. “But I get what you’re saying. I’m just tired of using the wheelchair.”
“Once your legs are stronger, you’ll be ready to stay upright all the time. First with the cane and then on your own.”
Maddie smiled and continued for a few more steps. “I’m tired,” she finally admitted. “Can we sit down?”