17. Walker
Chapter 17
Walker
M aggie, Mack, and Violet headed into town to pick up clothes and essentials.
I didn’t go.
Mostly because I don’t need to witness that chaos firsthand.
I get work done around the property while they’re gone, trying not to think about the fact that this morning was the first time my house has felt like more than just a house. It felt like a home. Full of laughter, noise, and people. I liked it.
The sound of the truck pulling in catches my attention, but it’s not the engine that makes me look up.
It’s the laughter that pours out of the windows.
Hers.
Soft, rich, and completely unguarded. A sound that wraps around me like a warm breeze, catching me mid-step as I wipe my hands on a rag.
And then she steps out.
Violet.
Her vibrant red hair’s down tonight, loose and wild, streaked with golden strands in the sunlight. It falls over her shoulders in soft waves, some of it sticking to the side of her neck from what I can only assume was a day of chaos with Mack and Maggie.
But it’s not the hair that gets me.
It’s the dress.
A sundress. Light green. Thin straps that leave her shoulders bare, the hem swishing around her legs as she steps out of the truck.
I swallow my throat feeling tight. I've always thought she was beautiful. But this? This feels different.
The dress hugs her curves in a way I’m pretty sure she’s completely unaware of. The fabric is doing a hell of a job wrecking my focus.And when she shifts the paper bags in her arms, the neckline dips slightly, revealing the slightest hint of golden skin that makes my pulse stutter.
I blink and drag my eyes to her face, only to find her laughing at something Mack just said, her eyes crinkling at the corners, her cheeks flushed from the wind. Her smile is wide and real—completely unguarded in a way I don’t see often.
And that’s when it hits me.
She doesn’t just look beautiful.
She looks happy.
And God help me if that doesn’t knock the breath out of me harder than the dress does.
The night air feels warmer suddenly. My heart picks up, and that slow, familiar ache—the one I’ve been pretending not to notice for months—settles in my chest.
I’m falling.
And it’s not just about the way she looks tonight. It’s how she lights up when she’s with Mack, doesn’t hesitate to throw herself into Maggie’s chaos, and ishere, standing in my driveway, laughing like she belongs.
Because she does.
Mack slams her door and bolts toward me, waving a bag of Hot Cheetos. “Dad! We bought half the store! And Maggie almost got kicked out for arguing about coupons, again!”
Maggie groans as she climbs out of the passenger seat. “That cashier was a child with a calculator, not a professional.”
Believably, she'll argue to give them crap. It's the Maggie way. Then, next week, she'll drop off a treat for the cashier, and they'll be besties again.
Violet laughs, and my eyes snap back to her.
She’s looking at me.
And when our gazes lock, everything inside me stills.
Her smile softens, her lips parting slightly, and for a second, it’s like the noise around us fades into the background.
“Hey,” she says, shifting the bags in her arms as I reach for them.
I clear my throat, desperately trying to look unaffected. “Hey. New dress?”
She glances down, brushing at the hem self-consciously and proclaims proudly. “Yeah. Epic thrift store find. New with tags.”
“It…” I hesitate, searching for words that won’t give me away. “Looks good.”
Her cheeks turn the prettiest shade of pink, and she gives a small smile. “Thanks.”
Mack picks that moment to practically tackle her, sending one of the bags tilting sideways. A bag of Sour Patch Kids hits the pavement and bursts open, candy spilling everywhere.
Violet laughs and bends down to pick it up, hair falling forward over her face.
And I can’t help it.
I stand there, watching her in the soft glow of the porchlight, my chest tight with something I don’t want to name.
Because if this keeps up—if she keeps looking like that, laughing like that, fitting so damn easily into my world?—
I’m done for.
Maggie unloads the rest of the bags onto the kitchen table. It's mostly junk food which makes me laugh. They seemed to have had a fun time.
Mack flops onto the couch, dramatic as hell. “We survived.”
Violet drops into the chair next to her. “Barely.”
I cross my arms, smirking. “Didn’t kill each other?”
Maggie snorts. “Came close.”
Violet sighs. “We disagreed on important things.”
Mack nods solemnly. “Like whether denim skirts are a crime against humanity.”
I blink. “I feel like this is not my conversation.”
“It’s not,” Maggie confirms.
I raise my hands in surrender and head toward the door.
Violet perks up. “Where are you going?”
I hesitate. “Checking on the horses.”
Her eyes light up. “Can I come?”
I try not to read into the way that makes something stir in my chest.
Instead, I nod. “Yeah. Come on.”
I hear Maggie and Mack whispering, and when I turn around, they give me fake smiles. “Have fun,” Maggie calls with a wave.
I roll my eyes and pull the door closed behind me.
The pasture stretches wide, the afternoon sun hanging low. The barn doors are already open, a soft breeze filtering through the stalls.
Violet walks ahead of me, turning in slow circles like she’s trying to take it all in.
“You have no idea how much I love horses,” she says, her voice almost awed.
I watch as she approaches Maximus, my black quarter horse, who immediately nuzzles against her palm.
She laughs softly, running a hand over his muzzle .
“You ride?” I ask.
“I used to,” she says, and something shifts in her expression. “Haven’t in a long time, though.”
I don’t ask why.
Instead, I nod toward the gate. “We can go for a ride sometime.”
She glances at me, brows raised.
I can’t help but think back to the night we shared. Hell, I think about that night more than I probably should. I wonder if she’s taking an entirely different meaning from my words about going for a ride. I decide to play it off innocently.
I shrug. “If you want.” I'm trying to play it cool, but I'd love to go for a ride with her.
She smiles. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
And damn it, I would too.
Violet starts talking to Winnie and murmuring to her as she pets her and turns to look at me. She stands close to Maximus’ stall who apparently is jealous that he’s not getting the attention.
Sure enough, Maximus gives her a solid nudge right between the shoulder blades.
Violet lets out a startled yelp, and stumbles right into me.
I react fast, my hands wrapping around her upper arms just as she crashes into my chest. The impact knocks the wind out of me, but I barely register it because she’s flush against me. Her chest is against mine, my hands still holding her steady.
Her breath hitches, a sharp sound in the quiet barn, and she turns her head slightly. I catch the surprise in her eyes.
Every muscle in my body is tight. I know I should let her go. She’s my friend.
But I don’t. Not yet. I like how we’re close.
My jaw tenses, and my throat bobs with a hard swallow.
She doesn’t move either. I can feel her hesitating, like she’s caught between laughing this off or doing something reckless. Like she knows that if either of us goes the reckless route, things are going to change for us.
Then, Pickles bounds up to us, tail wagging.
Violet turns and breaks free, pointing a sharp finger at Maximus. “You did that on purpose.”
Maximus snorts at her and blinks as if he’s completely innocent. Liar.
Violet laughs as she kneels down for the dog like she’s her new favorite person.
“Oh, I forgive you for earlier,” she coos, squatting down to scratch behind her ears.
I playfully roll my eyes. “I thought she was a velociraptor?”
She grins up at me. “She’s just a wild baby.”
I shake my head, watching as she fits too easily into my world.
I knew letting her in was a bad idea.
But I don’t think I can stop it now.
That evening, after dinner, we sit together, watching the sky fade into the familiar deep oranges and purples.
Mack and Violet are still bickering about whether Ty or the new guy is better on the show they’re watching, Heartland.
Maggie listening, but she watches me.
I ignore her.
Mostly. Because I know she’s trying to tell me something. Something along the lines of like, look at what’s happening here. Isn’t her niece great? Yeah, she is. But I’m not telling her that.
Eventually, Mack yawns. “I’m gonna go to bed.”
She stands, stretching. Then, without thinking, she leans down and hugs Violet.
Violet freezes for half a second, then melts into it.
And I don’t know who that moment is bigger for.
Maggie smiles knowingly .
I clear my throat. “I’m gonna lock up.”
Maggie follows Mack upstairs, leaving just me and Violet on the couch.
She exhales, looking out at the night sky through the floor-to-ceiling windows. “Your home is beautiful, Walker.”
I glance at her, the glow from the candle on the coffee table casting soft shadows over her face.
It’s not just the house that’s beautiful. She’s stunning.
I walk beside her towards her room, keeping my hands stuffed in my pockets so I don’t do something stupid. Like reach for her.
Because damn it, I want to.
She’s close to me, too close. Barefoot, her hair up in a messy bun, her t-shirt slipping off one shoulder like it’s begging to be touched. She looks soft and sleepy.
I glance at her and say, “At least when I walk you to your room, you don’t live that far.”
She huffs out a soft laugh. “Yeah, well, I usually live farther than down the hall from you.”
We reach her door, but I don’t stop, and I step in a little closer, watching the way her breath hitches and her fingers twitch at her sides.
“Guess I don’t have to worry about you being safe,” I murmur.
She rolls her eyes but her lips curve, “I think I’ve always been safe here in Bridger Falls.”
She doesn’t move and neither do I.
Something stretches between us, thick and heavy.
I glance down and find her staring at me, her lips parted slightly. My gaze drops to her mouth before I can stop it, before I can remind myself that we’re supposed to be just friends. I can’t go there. I’m not supposed to go there .
She sucks in a breath, and I watch her throat bob as she swallows.
Hell.
I’ve said goodnight and dropped her off a bunch of times. Watched her step inside, made sure she was safe.
But this time feels different.
We both jolt when a door creaks open somewhere in the house, snapping apart like we’ve been caught.
She exhales, then clears her throat. “Night, Walker.”
I take a step back. “Night.”
I head down the hall and realize I’m not sleeping tonight. I can’t sleep after that.
Mack barely waits for the truck to come to a full stop before she hops out, slinging her backpack over one shoulder.
“Be good,” I call after her.
She throws a smirk over her shoulder. “No promises. Bye.”
I shake my head as she disappears into the school, already chatting with a group of her friends. Fifteen going on twenty-five.
Pulling away, I tell myself I’m heading back to The Black Dog to handle some invoices. But somehow, I end up parked outside Steamy Sips instead. I need a coffee, and I like to support Cami and check in.
The second I approach the coffee trailer, Cami’s face lights up like she’s been waiting for me all morning.
“Well, if it isn’t just the man I wanted to see,” she says, handing off a latte to another customer before turning her full attention to me.
I narrow my eyes. “Why do I feel like this is going to be bad? ”
Cami glances around like she’s about to commit a federal offense, then leans over the counter.
“I need a favor,” she says, voice low.
I sigh. “Cami?—”
She waves me off, eyes darting left and right before locking back onto mine.
“Look, I know you have contacts back in Nashville.”
I school my expression into neutral territory. My face betrays nothing—not my past, not my history, and definitely not the truth behind what she just said.
Even though some people around here know who I used to be, we kind of have an unspoken thing that we don’t talk about it. And it’s been great. Until now.
Cami waits, watching me closely. I don’t confirm or deny it. I just cross my arms.
“What do you want?” I grunt, defeatedly.
She leans in closer, practically whispering. “Do you think you could get someone to steal Violet’s dog back from her shithead ex? He’s in Nashville.”
I blink. “What?”
Cami nods seriously, glancing over her shoulder like we’re plotting a heist. “I think it would cheer her up to have Rip Heeler back.”
I process that sentence slowly.
Her dog is named Rip Heeler?
I exhale, dragging a hand through my hair. “What happened to her dog?”
Cami straightens, her expression darkening. “That jackass ex of hers stole him. When she left, he said she didn’t deserve to keep Rip, even though she’s the one who raised him. And now she’s here, trying to move on, but she’s heartbroken over that dog. I saw the way she got so sad when she saw my blue heeler and she really misses her dog. And you know Violet?— ”
I do.
I know how her face softens when she talks about animals. I know how her fingers linger on Pickles’ fur every time she comes trotting up to Violet like she’s her favorite person.
I know how she loves horses and how her smile looks different around them, like something inside her untangles.
I didn’t know about her dog.
And now I do. And now I can’t just let this happen. I would want my dog if someone took her. I love my dogs. I even named my bar after my dog.
Damn it.
Cami sighs. “I just… I think it would mean everything to her.”
I lean against the counter, arms crossed. “Cami, we can’t just go around stealing dogs.”
She gives me a flat look. “You say that like we’re talking about swiping a stranger’s dog from their front yard. This is her dog, Walker. He’s the thief. We’re just… correcting an injustice.”
I shake my head. “I don’t know.”
But the thought sticks.
Follows me all the way back to my truck.
By the time I pull into The Black Dog, I’m still thinking about it.
I don’t call my manager, Will, very often. And I definitely don’t ask him for favors.
Haven’t had a reason to. We’re a well-oiled machine. I write songs, he sells the songs and gets me paid. It’s a perfect arrangement, even though I bet he’d love for me to do more.
But as I sit in my office, staring at my phone, I realize I’m about to make an exception.
I pull up Will Maren’s number and hit call.
He answers on the second ring. “Well, well, well,” he drawls. “If it isn’t Walker, calling me out of the blue. Thought maybe you’d finally decided to come back to civilization.”
I grunt. “Not likely.”
Will chuckles like he expected that. “What can I do for you, buddy?”
I hesitate for half a second.
Then I say it.
“I need someone to get a dog out of a bad situation. With no one knowing," I add.
There’s a beat of silence.
Then, surprisingly, Will just hums. “A dog?” he repeats. "You want me to steal a dog?"
“Yeah. One that belongs to someone here in Bridger Falls. Her ex in Nashville has him, and I want to get him back for her.”
Will chuckles again, but there’s something sharp in it this time. “Damn, Walker. Didn’t take you for a dog thief.”
I roll my eyes. “Are you gonna help or not?”
Will exhales. “What’s the ex’s name?”
I hesitate. “I don’t know yet.”
“Then find out. And send me whatever you can on the guy—where he lives, if he’s got security, that kind of thing. If you have a picture of the dog, even better.”
I pause. “You don't think we'll get caught, do you?”
Will laughs. “Relax, Walker. I know a guy who knows a guy. If this dog really belongs to your girl?—”
“She’s not my girl. But yes, he does.”
“—Then I’ll see what I can do.”
I rub my jaw. “Appreciate it.”
A beat of silence.
Then, Will says something that makes me stiffen.“If I do this, will you do a favor for me?”
I narrow my eyes. “Depends.”
A smirk edges into his voice. “Must be an important girl if you're willing to break a few laws for her.”
I grunt. “What do you want?”
“I don’t know yet.”
I exhale, already regretting this. “Maybe.”
Will hums, pleased. “Good enough.”
There’s a rustling on the other end of the line. Then, “What’s the girl’s name?”
I hesitate for half a second too long.
Then I say it.
“Violet Wilson.”
Silence.
Then—interest.
“Well, well,” Will murmurs. “Now that is interesting.”
My grip tightens on the phone. “Why?”
“Let me do some digging first,” he says smoothly. “I’ll be in touch.”
The line goes dead.
I sit there for a long moment, staring at my phone, that uneasy feeling creeping in.
Will knows something I don’t. I could hear it in his smug voice. Will is a good guy to his core. When I left Nashville years ago, I made it a point never to work with anyone who was dirty or bad. I wanted a clean break. When I started over here, I wanted to ensure that I was good with who I worked closely with and only with people I could trust. I know that I can trust Will. But I don't know what he's going to want.
Will is very connected in Nashville. He has no problems selling all the songs I write for him. He can get the job done quickly and privately. And that has kept an abundance of income coming in for me. When I left the industry, I had enough to set us up for life if we lived modestly. But I still have dreams. I wanted to build a home and a life here that Mack deserved. I wanted her to have everything. Without the glitz and glamor of stardom, because that isn't really what people think it is. Paparazzi and reporters can be vicious and vile and can ruin you if they want. The industry is corrupt and not a world I want my daughter to be a part of. I've kept her out of it on purpose.
And I have a feeling I won’t like what Will wants in return. But deep down, I know I can trust him, so there's that.
I lean back in my chair, staring at the ceiling.
I should leave it alone.
I should have told Cami that it’s too much trouble—that I don’t get involved in other people’s business. Because I typically don't.
But then I think about Violet’s face when she talks to my dog. And I remember how close Mack and I were to Gus and now Pickles. If my ex had kept my dog, I would have been so wrecked. I love my dogs. Mack, Maggie, and I were so sad when Gus passed. Sure, he was old, but he was our family. He grew up with Mack. They were the best of friends. I knew I had to get another dog when he passed. Mack was thrilled when we found Pickles at a local shelter.
I think about how Red tilted her head when she ran her fingers over that guitar last night like she didn’t understand why I’d given it to her.
I think about how she looked at The Dogwood Motel's remains, holding herself together even though she was clearly breaking inside.
And suddenly, I know.
We gotta get that damn dog back.
Even if it means making deals with the world that I swore I’d left behind .
Violet Wilson, you have no idea what you’ve started. I never thought I'd be the guy who would burn the whole world down for a woman, but I'm getting there. And shit it scares me.