Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
JULIE
My headache is at the back of my mind as I stroll down the street, already having a plan in place. In all my time of being sick and laying around, I decided that I needed to get something for Tucker. He deserves the best Christmas ever for spending all his time with me, even while I was sick.
I run my fingers through my still-damp hair as I make my way down the street. I glance back at the truck, but don’t see Tucker anywhere. I turn my attention back to where I’m going and flip the hood up on my jacket. My stomach still feels queasy from the bug that I caught, and while the fresh air is nice…
The smell of burgers from the café is not.
I duck my head as I pass a few women who go to church with my parents. I don’t feel like shooting the breeze, and somehow, I manage to make it to the silversmith and saddle shop without being flagged down and swing the door of the small shop open. The scent of leather and oil hit my senses, and I smile.
“Afternoon, Julianna,” Vinny, the owner’s son, greets me from behind his handlebar mustache. He’s a brawny guy, standing a foot or so taller than me, and was the linebacker for my high school football team. He was also one of Nate’s old friends, but that’s never affected him and his father making all our tack and boots.
“Hey, I know this is super last minute…” My voice trails off as I step up to the counter, seeing a few men perusing the saddles in the back of the small ornate place.
“Let me guess,” Vinny chuckles, running a hand over his reddish blond facial hair, “You need something for Tucker Madison.”
My brows shoot upward, but I don’t know why I’m surprised. “That’s… that’s actually the truth.”
He nods, a smirk pulling at his lips beneath his mustache. “Yeah, I saw him in the parade—that was quite the scene, you know.”
“Yeah, but he did it gracefully,” I laugh, feeling warm beneath my jacket. “Anyway,” I wipe the sweat from my forehead, “I was hoping to find him something… This is kind of a special holiday for me this year.”
“Yeah, I bet it is for him, too,” Vinny snorts. “Not every day a guy gets bailed out by his girlfriend’s dad.”
“I’m sorry?” I furrow my brow as Vinny turns around, opening up a cabinet. “He’s not getting bailed out. ”
“Whatever you wanna tell yourself, Julie.” Vinny shuffles through some things in his cabinet. “I’m just saying it sounds a little coincidental with him suddenly head over heels with you. I know the rumor floating around was that Nate just wanted to be with you because of the ranch, but seems suspicious to me that?—”
“That’s enough,” I cut him off, my voice sharp but a smile still on my face. “I don’t want to be rude, but Tucker is nothing like Nate.”
“That might be true,” Vinny turns back around with something in his hand. “He always had his eye on you, too.”
I’m not sure I hear him correctly, given my throbbing head and the distraction he lays out on the counter. I lean over to get a better look, seeing a beautiful, silver belt buckle…
“Where did this come from?” I gape, unable to pull my eyes away from the pretty scrolled gold and silver buckle.
“It was a project I started. It just needs the initials or brand placed here,” he points to the center. “We could easily do Tucker’s initial or cattle brand—whichever you prefer—and then I can engrave the back for you.”
“Okay,” I nod, liking the idea of that more and more. Maybe that is the perfect way to share my feelings… Vinny slides me a form to fill out, and I take my time, trying to craft the perfect message—and realizing that he’ll read it—which means that if I say anything alluding to our agreement, it might let the cat out of the bag.
Merry Christmas, Tuck. I pause, my pen hovering over the paper. After a few painful seconds of Vinny’s eyes boring into my head, I finally just finish with ‘ Love, Jules.’ I sigh as I slide it back to him.
“I feel like you had a lot more to say,” Vinny chuckles as he places a heavy hand on the paper. “I should have this done by tomorrow afternoon. How about I bring it with me to the party? I’ll put a ribbon on the box for you.”
“That would be amazing, ” I reach into my purse, pulling out my card. “I can’t even say how much I appreciate it. I’ve been sick for the last few days and am falling behind. I had everyone’s present but his…” I pause, catching myself. “I just didn’t know what to get him.”
Vinny shrugs. “Men can be hard to shop for.”
I nod, though I’m not totally sure I agree. If I had known I was buying for Tucker and we had been reacquainted sooner, I’d have had no problem. Still, I pass over my card, and pay for the buckle, ignoring the fact that it costs the total of all the presents I bought this season combined.
“Thanks for your business,” Vinny says to me, holding out the receipt. “Tucker Madison is a lucky man. He hit the jackpot this Christmas. To think, he was about to be homeless.”
“Merry Christmas,” I mutter back, shaking my head as I process his words. They don’t really hit me until I’m already walking back toward Tucker’s truck.
Homeless? Why would Tucker be homeless? What rumors are floating around? I ponder the questions as I try for the passenger door, relieved as I find it unlocked. I shove the receipt into my purse, a pang of disappointment hitting me as the truck is empty. Settling back into the seat, I close my eyes.
You can’t trust what anyone says. They already spread rumors about him stealing years ago. It’s probably just all talk.
However, I can’t shake that it has some sort of importance. I mean, why would someone even think Tucker is homeless? And I read the business plan. Tucker has plenty of cattle. His business is successful. He’s not homeless. That settles it for my brain, and I catch myself drifting off into a doze.
The feeling of a gentle shaking pulls me out of my slumber, and my eyes flutter open to the sight of Tucker, wide-eyed and worried.
“How long have you been in here?” he exasperates, his warm hands landing on my cheeks. I shiver against him and shake my head.
“I don’t think it’s been long.” My voice comes out groggy and as he backs away, the heater blasts hot air on my face. I sigh, running my hands over my face.
“Maybe we should’ve just stayed home,” Tucker peers at me with concern. “Maybe it was too much for you.”
“Oh, no,” I dismiss him as he pulls the seatbelt across him, and my mind is once again running back to the rumors I heard. “I could totally live in your truck.”
Tucker gives me a funny look as he backs out. “Why would you want to live in my truck? That’s… odd. ”
“Wouldn’t you be okay with living in your truck?” I blurt out, my mouth dry. Momentarily, I’m distracted by the idea that I might have been snoring when Tucker got back to the truck. Meh. Whatever. I probably snored when he slept on my floor, too.
“I don’t think I’d be okay with living in my truck…” Tucker’s eyes are focused on the road. “Especially right now. It’s too cold for me.”
“Have you ever had to live in your truck?” I just keep digging at him, but he seems unfazed by my offhanded questions, given the fact he shrugs.
“No, I haven’t. I guess that’s one way I’ve been lucky. When Nate kicked me out, I was able to swing a motel until the rodeo coach helped me find somewhere to stay short term. I worked on a ranch close to the college and slept in the barn apartment.”
“I’m so sorry,” I say softly, reaching out and grabbing his hand.
He eyes me. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“You were barely an adult at the time. I hate that Nate’s family did you like that. It’s… It’s just awful.”
Tucker’s lips curl upward, squeezing my hand. “I’ve got nothing to complain about.”