Wild as Her (Beckett Family #2)

Oklahoma Sky

Chapter One

Lucy

Thirty-one years on this Earth have taught me a couple of important things: life’s a master of timing, and it loves a cheap shot. Just when you think you’ve had enough, it hurls something new your way, leaving you to wonder—will this one knock me flat and kick me again, or is it finally something that will transform my life for the better?

“Here we go,” I say with an exhale as I peer up at the sign ‘ Vines and Vases ’ on the old green and white building out my windshield.

My hand on the black door handle sits unmoving as I gather the courage to exit the vehicle.

Beside me, Sev—my black lab—wags his tail, waiting patiently for me to finally get out of the truck. We’ve been cooped up in here for two days now and he’s ready to officially be done with the traveling.

I still can’t believe I’m here. When Grandma Alice, or Gran as I called her, passed away and her lawyer informed me she left me the house and her business, I was shocked. He also let me know she left my younger brother, Hunter, the life insurance money, which will be great for him since he’s trying to get his life together after a few rough years.

I hadn’t spoken much to my Gran over the last two decades. We had only recently started talking again on the phone. She invited me to come visit, but I just hadn’t worked up the courage to come back here yet. Some ghosts were just too hard to face.

Growing up, I was very close with my grandparents, but when my mom decided to follow one of her new boyfriends and move us to a new state when I was ten, we lost touch with them. My mom didn’t seem to care that they were the only family my brother and I had that showed an ounce of love toward us.

Over the years, our grandparents tried to keep in touch. But for some reason, our mom didn’t want any connections to her family, and she didn’t want us to have any, either. We only spoke with them a few times a year, mostly on Christmas and birthdays, when she allowed the phone calls.

Mom did allow us to spend that first summer after moving away back here with our grandparents. That summer was unforgettable, and I wish every summer after could have been just as good as that one. We’d camp at the lake, go on fishing trips, swim in the pool out back of their house, and have family movie nights every night with a big bowl of chocolate ice cream.

I remember begging my mom to let us live with them—because they were fine with it—but she just said “no.” She never gave an explanation or the “I’d miss you too much” excuse. It was always a simple “no” or a no followed by some manipulative speech to make us feel bad for “choosing them over her.”

My grandparents both tried to rekindle the relationship once I was over eighteen, and my mom wasn’t in complete control of my life anymore. But by that point, I felt the damage was done. I didn’t want to invite any more potential heartbreak or disappointment into my life. Stepping foot on this red dirt was honestly something I never planned to do again. Oklahoma was still the home of too many of my demons.

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. Counting to four, I blow it out slowly and pull the handle to open the truck door.

Like a slap to the face, I’m immediately hit by the thick, humid Oklahoma air. My skin instantly feels sticky.

Yeah, I didn’t miss this part at all.

“Come on, Se—” I start to say after I step out and turn back, but my excited pup is already out the door and pacing excitedly beside me.

He’s the best dog, and I’m glad I took him after my brother, Hunter, found him on the side of the road. He was going to take him to the humane society, but I couldn’t let him. I’ve always had a soft spot for animals.

I remember when I was around eight, I found an injured bunny on my walk home from the school bus and carried it home with me. My mom was furious with me for bringing a wild animal into the house, but he needed me, and I couldn’t leave him there. I’ve never stopped caring for animals since.

So, when that little broken and lonely puppy looked at me with those big, brown, puppy-dog eyes four years ago, I knew he was mine, and I was his.

Closing my door, I go to the back of the truck to open the bed where my two black suitcases and a large cardboard box sit. It’s hard to believe everything I own fits in there.

The old hinges squeak as I lower the tailgate for Sev.

“Up.” I pat the open tailgate.

His tail stops wagging as he looks down in disappointment, puppy-dog eyes on full display.

“Severus, you can not go in there with me. Now, get up here,” I say, using my stern dog mom voice, patting the bed of the truck again.

He reluctantly obeys, and I close the hot, metal tailgate behind him.

“I’ll be right back. Just gonna take a quick look around.” As I give his neck a good rub, he continues to stare up at me with pleading eyes, hoping I’ll change my mind.

I walk through the open gate and toward the entrance to Vines and Vases, the garden center and plant nursery that I am now the owner of… that’s a scary thought .

It’s amazing how green and colorful everything is. It’s early June, and all the plants and flowers flooding the stands are in full bloom. Their dew-kissed petals enchant everyone with their beautiful, rich colors and sweet smells. I wish I could bottle it up.

Growing up, we never had plants of any kind, inside or outside of the house. But I remember those few summers I spent with my grandparents before we moved—and that one summer afterward—when Gran would have her whole yard full of flowers and greenery. She’d have me help her water the plants every morning, and I absolutely loved it. It was always so peaceful, and I found it fascinating to watch the buds progress from seeds in the dirt to tall, beautiful blooms.

My grandpa was always the one with the green thumb. The garden was his baby, and he spent a lot of time tending the flowers and his vegetable garden after he’d get home from a long day of work.

I remember snapdragons, marigolds, and autumn joys were his favorites. My grandma was always more interested in the shrubs and her personal favorite, Elephant Ears.

My favorite was always sunflowers. I loved how bright and beautiful they were and how looking at their vibrant yellow petals made me happy.

My mom liked to inform me that sunflowers were weeds, not flowers. But I firmly believed a flower was only a weed if it grew where you didn’t want it.

Now, I can’t look at any of our favorite flowers without thinking of my grandparents and missing the childhood that I could have had—or should have had. One spent around family, feeling loved and happy, feeling like a kid.

Gran and Gramps opened this shop a few years after we moved away. I remember them telling me about it one Christmas when I was allowed to call them. I told them about the gifts I had gotten for Christmas and thanked them for the gifts that they had sent to me. Then they told me all about their new shop and some plans they had for it. I wanted so badly to be a part of it. So I asked if I could help. They said they had the perfect job in mind for the next time I visited. Gran even told me she had a special surprise for me outside the shop, but she wouldn’t tell me what it was. She said she would wait until I came to visit and show me instead.

They were so excited about it all and really wanted us to come visit. Of course, Mom said no every year we asked.

As I reach my hand out to pull the front door open, I notice the little garden bed full of yellow and red snapdragons next to the entrance, and I smile. It stings my heart at the same time that it brings me joy—a complicated feeling, to say the least, seeing that Gran had a bed planted full of one of Gramps’ favorite flowers.

I walk into the cool building and am immediately greeted by a woman my age at a counter from across the room.

“Good mornin’! Can I help you with anything today?” she says with way too much enthusiasm this early in the morning.

It’s then I remember that people in the South are different. It’s been so long since I’ve been here, but it’s all starting to flood back in. People are friendly here, everyone knows everyone, and there’s no such thing as a stranger. Small-town Oklahoma is like nowhere else.

“Hey, I’m Lucy Dalton. My grandma, Alice?—”

“Oh my gosh! Lucy!?” the blonde girl shrieks and runs from behind the counter, heading toward me with outstretched arms.

She crashes into me, and I have to step back to balance myself and keep from toppling over.

“I can’t believe you’re finally here!” she says as she pulls back from me, a smile a mile wide across her face.

Okay, maybe people here are a little more friendly than I remember. Is this the greeting I’m going to get from everyone?

My inner introvert cringes.

“Uh, yeah… I just wanted to stop by and introduce myself and get a feel for the place before I come in tomorrow. Sorry, I can’t stay today. I just need to unpack a little first and get settled in.”

A beat passes, and then the chipper blonde’s icy blue eyes squint. “You don’t remember me, do you?” she says quizzically.

I look closer at her and glance down to see a dainty gold chain hanging on her neck with a ‘W’ hanging from the center. I look back up at her friendly, heart-shaped face, and recognition dawns on me.

“Wren… Beckett?” I utter, and her face lights up again.

“Yes! Oh my goodness, I haven’t seen you in so long!” she squeals, pulling me in for another quick squeeze.

When she pulls back, sorrow fills her face as she looks at me. “I’m so sorry about Alice. She was such a sweet woman. I don’t know what I would’ve done without her this last year.”

Something flashes across her face. It’s a look of hurt or maybe embarrassment. Like she also has some storm clouds in her past and isn’t all sunshine and rainbows like she portrays. But just as fast as the look appears, it’s gone.

Wren and I were best friends from kindergarten until fourth grade, when I moved away. Just another person my mother forced me to cut ties with when we moved. We were inseparable back then. We were together every weekend that we could be, always sat beside each other in class, and walked around holding hands on recess breaks.

I haven’t thought about those days in a long time. The memories flood in, and I stop on one I remember particularly well. We were in first grade, and I could see Wren’s brother, Cal—who was a couple of years older, watching us from across the playground. I suddenly felt Wren’s hand get ripped out of mine, and then clammy hands wrapped around my neck. I could hear Joey Snider—a bully at my school—laughing from behind me as I grabbed at his meaty hands.

Cal ran so fast to us as the kid behind me continued to choke me for no reason whatsoever. I couldn’t get him off of me, no matter how hard I pulled on his sticky fingers, trying to loosen his grip.

Cal punched that kid in the face and ended up getting suspended for three days for it. Cal was always watching out for me when we were kids. Being two years older than me, he probably felt it was his job since I didn’t have anyone else to do it.

“You okay?” Wren asks, taking me out of my thoughts.

I shake my head, clearing the memory away. “Yeah, sorry, just a lot going on.” I smile over at her. “Could you show me around a bit? I’d like to get out of here and get some things done before I come in tomorrow.”

“Sure! No problem at all.” She holds up a finger. “Let me just get Betty to man the front,” she says as she turns to walk toward a door on the other side of the building.

After she leaves, I take the time alone to glance around the place. It’s surprisingly busy in here for just after 9 a.m. in a town this size. Twin Pines is smaller than the town I lived in before—by a lot— but I’m all for it. I’ve never been interested in big city life. Lots of noises stress me out and make me feel like I can’t see straight. Not to mention, all the pollution in the air makes it impossible to see the stars at night, and the air is full of the smells of car fumes and fast food. Big cities really don’t hold a candle to the comforts of a small town.

An older woman with short white hair and round glasses emerges from the doorway with Wren and gives me a polite nod and wave. Wren walks over to me, her smile still spread from one ear to the other, displaying her perfectly white teeth.

“I’m so excited for you to be here! We have so much catchin’ up to do.” She loops her arm in mine, and we begin to walk around the store.

There are not only plants everywhere but also all the things you would need for your garden that aren’t plants. Pots, gardening tools, vases, soil, wind chimes, lawn decor, you name it.

Wren walks me up and down each little aisle and into the back rooms, where I see more potted plants, inventory, and supplies. She seems to know everything about this place and has a story to tell about everything she sees.

One thing I’m remembering is that this girl likes to talk, which is why we were always such great friends. I was always more on the quiet side and enjoyed listening more than talking. But Wren took the time to get to know me, and I eventually opened up around her. Other kids would tease me for being so quiet, but she wouldn’t stand for it. She’s just as feisty as she is sweet when it comes to defending those she cares about.

After we walk through the entire store, Wren leads us toward a glass door at the back of the building.

“Oh, I actually parked out front,” I state, pointing my thumb over my shoulder. “I’ll just use that door. Thanks again for showing me around the place. I hope I can catch on quickly to all of this,” I say as I glance around the full room.

She looks confused as her eyebrows pull together. “Oh, we ain’t done. There’s a lot more out this way. Come on,” she adds, pushing the door open and exiting the building.

Dread fills my stomach.

I thought I felt swamped when I had to take over a simple store with a few plants out front. No, there’s a giant forest out back. All kinds of shrubs, rose bushes, water fountains, garden benches, and… are those trees?

I know so little about plants as it is. I will be doing all kinds of internet research over the next… well, months, probably. Taking on trees, too, just added to my already full plate.

“We sell trees too?” I ask, pointing to the rows of small trees, each with their base wrapped in burlap bags. I know I’m doing a terrible job of hiding the shock in my voice.

“Yup, that was your Gramps’ favorite part of this place,” she states, nodding and smiling as she looks over at the rows of green and red-leafed trees.

Nodding my head, I cross my arms over my chest and return her smile as we venture further into the outdoor garden area.

I bite at the corner of my lip as I follow behind Wren, trying to ignore the pain in my chest. It stings that Wren knew my grandparents better than I ever will. I want to ask her more about them but feel embarrassed that I know so little.

“And the field over there was your Gran’s favorite part. She called it Lucy Acres,” she says, turning and pointing behind me.

I look over my shoulder and slowly turn to see a small field full of bright yellow sunflowers—my favorite flower.

“Oh, wow…” the words come out as a whisper as my arms fall to my sides.

I stare out at the field with hundreds of sunflowers just starting to bloom, and I feel the pressure building behind my eyes.

This must be what Gran wanted to show me.

“Yeah, it’s definitely not acres , but she thought the name was cute,” she chuckles. “But don’t worry, they grow wild out there. We just have to thin them out occasionally or they’ll take over the whole place. Otherwise, they seem to care for themselves.” Wren shrugs.

I continue to stare at the swaying flowers in front of us. Watching as they dance around in the light summer morning breeze.

Wren briefly glances over at me. “Your Gran told me that was their selling point.” She points out to the large field of sunflowers. “She told me when they saw those out there, they knew this was the location to start their business.”

Tears blur my vision as I look out across the field, swimming with yellow and green. I quickly swallow them down, fighting back the emotions.

I need to leave.

“Well,” I clear my throat. “I left my dog out in the truck, so I should head out. Thanks again for everything, Wren,” I say, waving her off as I start walking toward the gate that opens up to the front entrance, where all the perennial and annual plants are located.

“Sure thing!” I hear her holler behind me. “I work weekends, so I’ll be here tomorrow, and we can catch up some more then,” she says, and I quickly turn to wave goodbye.

I know it’s rude to leave like that, but I’m feeling way too overrun by everything I’m taking in at once, and I’m on the brink of panic. I don’t need all of these people to see me break down right now.

When I get to my truck, a tall man in Wrangler jeans, a white t-shirt, and a backward ball cap is at the tailgate, petting my overly-friendly dog.

I walk up, eyeing him suspiciously.

“You know you really shouldn’t pet other people’s dogs without their permission.”

He seems startled at first by my sudden appearance, but it looks as if he recognizes me. A small smile starts and slowly fades when he looks back to Sev.

“Hey, Goose. Haven’t seen you in quite a while. Wren said you were comin’ into town.”

Did he just call me… Goose ?

There’s only one person who ever called me that horrible nickname. It can’t be…

“… Wilder?” I ask, scrunching my eyebrows as I look the man up and down, trying to figure out how he could possibly be Wren’s little brother.

“The one and only,” he beams as he steps back and holds his arms out to the sides, smirking.

“Wild!” A deep male voice hollers from across the parking lot. “Leave that poor woman and her dog alone. Come help me get these shelves out.”

Wilder laughs and gives me a pat on the shoulder.

“It’s good to see you, Lucy,” he says, turning and jogging back to the black pickup truck, the trailer full of multiple large shelves.

The man standing on the trailer also looks vaguely familiar, but it’s hard to see from this far away. I assume he must be Cal, Wren’s older brother.

He looks nothing like I remember, however—shaggy brown hair under his black ball cap and a short, trimmed beard. I can see that he works outdoors a lot from the golden tone of his skin.

The two brothers start bickering, and it makes me smile to see that not everything changes.

Reaching up, I grab the rusted metal handle on the tailgate of my truck. It squeaks as I slowly lower it so it doesn’t slam down. As soon as it’s down far enough, I’m greeted by a wet nose and slobbery dog kisses.

“Come on, you big ham, before you get any more people over here talking to us,” I say, patting my sweet boy as he jumps out of the truck and runs to the driver’s side door.

Sev jumps in when I open the door, tail wagging away as he pants to cool his body.

I close my eyes and inhale long and slow, taking in my surroundings. The happy dog in my truck, the fresh, sweet smell of roses in the air, the birds chirping loudly for all to hear their cheerful songs, and the warm Oklahoma sky shining down on me.

This is all a lot to take on, and it’s hard to explain, but something tells me that coming here will be worth it in the long run. That maybe life isn’t kicking me again after all.