by Vivian Arend
Oh hell. Tucker put a hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him. “Don’t jump to conclusions,” he warned. “I don’t want to just fuck around with you, Ginny. Only we’ve never been in the same place at the same time when more was appropriate.”
He’d never trusted himself enough to take the chance, but now? He wanted her enough to fight her personal demons.
She was thinking again, that intensely focused expression she got where the magical, mystical program she carried in her brain ran through options at the speed of light. “You want more than just the occasional fling?”
“Yes. Hell, yes.”
“Oh.” She tilted her head slightly. “Spell it out for me. What exactly does that mean?”
He caught her by the hands, his touch gentle and very innocent, considering they had just fucked each other silly not even five minutes ago. “I want to date you. I want to get to know you better and figure out if between us, we can find something that can last.”
“Holy shit,” she whispered.
Tucker stroked his thumbs over her fingers. “Holy shit, good? Or holy shit, I never in a million years imagined this would happen and how do I get this asshole out of my trailer?”
She rolled her eyes. “Please, I’m supposed to be the drama llama in this relationship.”
“Go right ahead and drama away, but I still need an answer to the question.
Ginny tilted her head to the table. “Sit. Want a beer?”
“Why not.”
She grabbed two then sat kitty corner to him instead of across the table. Then she caught hold of the hand closest to her while she raised her bottle in the air with her other. “To Operation Prove It.”
They clinked then drank.
Ginny placed her bottle carefully on the table before meeting his gaze. “I think you are one of the sexiest men on the entire planet.”
That was a good start. Maybe? “Thank you.”
“I’ve also had a crush on you since I was a teenager, but you know that because I shared those details when I was twenty-one and talked my way into your bed. Even if it was only once or twice a year.”
“You did tell me.” Tucker ignored his beer and wrapped both his hands around hers. “I think we should do this like a Band-Aid. Rip it off, really quick. Are you about to tell me to take a hike?”
She licked her lips, suddenly—shy? Confident as hell and outgoing Ginny avoiding his gaze?
“I’m not telling you to take a hike,” she said softly. “I think we’ve got some good history, and some amazing chemistry…”
Fuck it. “I just heard a but.”
She looked him straight in the eye. “Timing is everything. You’re about to start in a position that’s pretty important, and while us dating isn’t impossible, it could cause problems. There’s Ashton, there are my brothers, and there’s the entire Silver Stone crew. You’ll have to earn their respect—which you totally deserve because you’ve got the skills. But most of them will suspect you’re got an in because of your relationship with Ashton. Add on a relationship with me, and…”
“I can deal with that.”
But she continued. “I’m not willing to mess this up for you. What we need is some sort of compromise, because I also don’t want to go without you. I want time together to do Operation Prove It, and I want sex.” She wrinkled her nose. “It probably makes me pretty shallow that I included that last part.”
“No, I totally want that part as well,” Tucker admitted.
She lifted his hand and brushed his knuckles against her cheek. “I’m not saying no, I’m saying slow.”
“We wait a couple months before we officially start dating?”
She hesitated. “No set time. We see how things go.”
“But I want you in my bed,” Tucker admitted. “And I mean that literally, as well as sex.”
“I like sleeping with you, too.” Ginny made a face. “Yes, as well as the sex, but we can figure that out.”
“You’re moving into the Hayes cottage, right?” Which was right out in the open hillside. Everyone and their dog would see if he stopped to visit. “We’ll get creative. But I mean it, Ginny. As soon as things are going smoothly, I’m officially asking you out. And prepare to be spoiled.”
“I look forward to it.” The delight on her face was very real and very ego stroking. “I really want you to be my boyfriend, Tucker Stewart, but we’ve been patient this long. What’s a little longer?”
It was a wise sentiment, but Tucker was pretty sure agreeing to this would come back and kick his butt in more ways than one.
“Then I hope you don’t mind us burning up a little energy a couple more times tonight. Maybe again in the morning.” He pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “I talked to my boss. I have to head back to Winnipeg for a week.”
She offered him a cheeky wink, trailing her fingers over his shoulder as she rose and headed back to the refrigerator. “Well, I’m disappointed we won’t get that solid two weeks trapped together in this love cave, but the sooner you go, the sooner you get back. Let’s make some supper so we’ll have enough energy to ravish each other as much as possible tonight.”
As plans went, it sounded rock-solid to Tucker.
Early the next morning, Ginny let the covers fall back into place as Tucker closed the door behind himself.
It was better to let him do all the things he needed before setting off on his long drive, and there was nothing she could do to help him right now anyway.
She stretched lazily, appreciating the little aches and pains in her body from what had ended up being a spectacular sexual marathon. She was glad she’d nabbed the condoms.
Tucker Stewart wanted to date her.
Ginny stretched her arms over her head and let out a squeal of delight. Okay that thought was every bit as thrilling as fourteen-year-old her could have wanted.
But she was serious about not interfering with him getting established at Silver Stone. Maybe if things had been different, like if Tucker had been around every year, or if her parents and the Hayeses had still been there. Being mentored by a solid group of older men would’ve given Tucker so much of a head start.
She was pretty sure her brothers would approve in theory. Caleb obviously did, and Luke thought the world of Tucker.
But if she was in the picture, would her brothers get tangled up with thoughts of her as their little sister to protect, instead of focusing on Tucker as a cohort to encourage and bring up to speed?
She sighed. Being an adult sucked, but here they were.
Which meant her plans to juggle the next thing while making frequent booty calls got adjusted. In a way, it might be good to focus all of her attention on catching up with old friends and future plans for staying on the ranch.
The package on top of the dresser caught her attention. She was revved up enough from the excitement bubbling inside and the sneaky suspicion that she would be an emotional wreck that night anyway once it sank in that she didn’t get to cuddle with Tucker.
She grabbed the package off the dresser and sat back on the bed.
Unraveling the ancient twine gave her time to reconsider, but now her curiosity was in high gear.
She carefully undid the brittle tape holding the parchment paper in place and discovered a plain but sturdy cardboard box. The lid lifted off easily revealing two matching hardcover journals.
A rush of memory slipped in…
* * *
“Mom?” Ginny kicked off her boots at the back door and made her way farther into the house. Something bubbled on the stove, so her mom had to be somewhere nearby.
“In here,” her mom called. “Just a minute.”
Ginny rounded the corner into her mom’s office in time to see her pick up her shiny red journal and tuck it into the top desk drawer. “Oh. Writing in your diary,” Ginny teased.
Her mom folded her hands. “Yes, I was. Someday you’ll appreciate it.”
“Not if you’re writing stuff in there about you and Dad. There are some th
ings I don’t need to know,” Ginny insisted.
“Wait until you fall in love. Then you might be curious to hear other people’s stories.”
Ginny shrugged. “Maybe. Don’t hold your breath. Anyway, Dusty is hiding in the barn. He refuses to come in the house because he failed a test, and now he thinks he’ll get kicked out of Grade Two, but even worse, that Dad might take away his riding privileges.”
Deb Stone made a face. “The kid is probably not wrong about that last one. What kind of test?” She eyed Ginny hard. “How come you know this, and why are you telling me?”
“Because I, as his beloved big sister, who is nearly eight years older, know all and see all.”
“Ginny. Spit it out without dramatizing it any further, if that’s possible,” her mother demanded.
“You’re no fun. Fine, Dusty was cranky on the bus ride home from school, so I asked him what was wrong, and he told me. The reason he failed was he was actually sitting in the hallway being disciplined when the teacher handed out the test.”
Their mother folded her arms over her chest. “You’re not making things better for your brother right now.”
Ginny held up a finger. “Ah, but here’s the part that neither the teacher nor Dusty will tell you. I happen to know Dusty got sent to sit in the hall because he told Jeremy Dane to stuff it and stop teasing Fern Fields about having a prosthetic arm. And when Jeremy made a rude gesture, Dusty sat on him. Which was probably really uncomfortable because Jeremy is lumpy like a bag full of rocks. Personally, I hope Dusty didn’t bruise himself.”
Deb pinched the bridge of her nose. “Thank you for that little bit of colour commentating.”
“Anyway. Rose and Tansy told me about that part, because Fern told them, so I told Dusty that I was sure you would understand he did the right thing, but if it came down to it, I would help him study for a makeup test. And I’m making peanut butter cookies so when he comes in, he has something to make him happy, okay?”
Her mom rose from behind the desk and came to offer her a hug. “That sounds fine. I guess I’ll put my boots on and go on a Dusty hunt.”
“Look for the nearest set of kittens. The last batch we found are in the south corner of the loft,” Ginny suggested as they headed back to the kitchen and her mom began layering on outdoor gear. “Mom? What do you write in your journal?”
Deb adjusted her toque and pulled on warm winter gloves. “Memories. Joys and sorrows. Dreams. Sometimes I write the most outlandish thing that I possibly can, just to make myself smile.”
“Something absolutely wild and outrageous like Dad taking over the accounting books?”
Her mother laughed. “So disrespectful. No, but I do sometimes try to imagine the future.”
“The immediate future includes the heavenly scent of peanut butter cookies wrapping around you and your beloved son when you return from your quest,” Ginny said, offering a dramatic bow.
“I love you, kiddo. Now let me go find your brother.”
It was only one memory. Ginny had seen the journal many times over the years, at least the red one on the right that was bumped and banged and a little worn. The second one was identical, only the shine on the cover was still pristine, and instead of red, the cover was sky blue.
Ginny’s favourite colour.
She traced her fingers over them both, and a knot grew in her throat as she thought back to all the times and places she’d seen her mom holding it. Curled up in a chair by the fire. Sitting on the porch swing. Hanging out in the hayloft, the journal spread in her lap as she either wrote or read back over well-worn pages.
Oh, dear God, Ginny was going to cry again. At least this time there was no one around to witness as she lifted the little piece of the past and cradled it carefully.
A sticky note that had lost all its stick fluttered to the bedspread beside Ginny’s hip.
All it said was 2 of 3.
Ginny opened the red journal in the hopes there would be some further explanation. Another folded note addressed to her in her mother’s clear beautiful handwriting waited between the pages.
You’re always asking what I’m writing in my journal, so as your second present on this milestone birthday, I’m going to show you.
* * *
This is a loan, mind you. Some of what’s written in these pages is very personal, to me and to others, but I trust you to keep the things private that should remain that way. But I’m also trusting you to share what should be shared when and if appropriate.
* * *
I suppose it’s a bit old-fashioned and slightly misogynistic to automatically think you should someday become the family record keeper. That chore seems to typically fall to the women, but I never complained because it’s something I enjoy. I hope it’s something you do as well.
* * *
There are always questions, there are always the do you remember moments, and that’s part of why I journal. No one’s memory lasts forever, so putting things down on paper is a good way to look back.
Sometimes we do it to celebrate the good choices we’ve made. Sometimes we do it to see where we got on the wrong path, to make a course correction.
* * *
Either way, you don’t have to do this alone. I’ve done some of it before you, and I’ve done some of it for you (peek in your new journal and you’ll see what I mean.) And as the summer passes, I look forward to sitting on the deck with you, writing in our journals. Sharing our hopes and dreams and, as is inevitable with you involved, I’m sure there’ll be laughter.
* * *
I love you. Here’s to making memories.
Mom
Somewhere in the middle of the letter, tears slipped free. As much as Ginny hurt inside, the moment was still beautiful. Yes, it was painful that she hadn’t been able to enjoy the summer her mom had envisioned.
But looking back over the years, Ginny could honestly say there had been other joys. There had been experiences with her brothers—good experiences—that would never have happened if their world hadn’t turned inside out so terribly.
She turned a page, examining non-sequential the dates. Noticing little pockets that had been added to some of the pages with additional papers stuffed inside. Her mother had turned the journal into a mass of notes and doodles.
It was a treasure Ginny had not expected.
She carefully put it down and picked up the new journal. Flipping open the pages she stopped in surprise to discover it wasn’t empty and pristine. At the top of the page here and there were notes from her mom. Questions, or commands from beyond the grave.
Something I like about myself.
Who is my best friend, and what do I do to show them that’s true?
If I had an entire day all to myself, what would I do?
There were more. Ginny pressed the journal against her chest and held it tight as she let the sadness inside escape one last time.
Then she wiped her eyes, washed her face, and made breakfast. The journals were carefully put back on the top of the dresser like the treasures they were.
Today was about a different kind of treasure hunt. She got out her phone and made a few calls.
10
Crawling out of a warm bed and away from an even warmer and softer Ginny had been hell. Tucker consoled himself by focusing on the fact that the sooner he got out of there, the sooner he could return.
He tracked down Ashton in the barn, surprised to find Luke and Jack there as well. The three men leaned comfortably on the wall and side rail outside a stall that held one of the prettiest mares Tucker had seen in a long time. She was pregnant, and Luke affectionately patted her nose as he spoke.
Tucker moved into sight slowly to avoid spooking the mare.
“You’re up early,” he said before focusing on Jack. “I thought you were on holiday.”
Jack grinned. “Diane kicked me out of bed. Said I needed to go entertain myself elsewhere for a while.”
“Getting a little too handsy, were you?” Lu
ke chuckled evilly as he moved away from the mare and still managed to avoid the jab to his shoulder from his friend. “Hey, either you’ve got a woman who likes sex in the morning, or you don’t.”
It was terrible that the first thought that rushed to Tucker’s mind was that Ginny liked sex no matter what time of day it was. In fact, she usually woke him, and the memory of that morning hit with a rush of heat.
His only saving grace was that Ashton had folded his arms over his chest and offered a disapproving look. “Stop bragging about your sex life.”
“Nothing says you can’t join—” Luke shut up instantly then looked upward, as if admiring the rafters.
“Hooligan,” Ashton muttered.
“Interrupting this scintillating conversation,” Tucker offered dryly. “Ashton, does Luke know?”
“Do I know what?”
Obviously not. Tucker would’ve loved to have dragged this out longer and made Luke suffer, but he wasn’t willing to waste that much time. “Ashton offered to take me on as his apprentice. Caleb approved yesterday.”
“Congratulations.” Jack bumped his fist into Tucker’s arm with a solid hit. “Good for you.”
“Holy shit. That’s fantastic.” Luke not only pounded him on the back but pulled Tucker into a tight embrace as well. “About time we got to see more of your ugly mug around here.”
Hopefully that was the way Luke continued to see things once Tucker’s plan to start up more seriously with Ginny came to fruition.
“Thanks,” he said sincerely. He lifted his gaze to Ashton. “I got in touch with Raymond back at the stables in Winnipeg. He needs me to clear things out right away, plus I need to pick up Braggart. I thought I’d head out now. Work for you?”
Ashton dipped his head. “Last I checked, the weather looked friendly for a few days.”
