Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
JACKSON
Deep orange rays filtered down the hall of the barn as the sun began its slow slide toward the edge of the horizon. Inside her stall with her momma, Goldie was happily nursing away after a long day of playing out in the pastures with her friends and learning the ropes from others in her herd.
Resting my chin on my crossed arms, I watched the mother–daughter pair from the window of their stall door and let out a slow sigh through my nose.
Goldie’s soft blonde coat shone in the light, making her creamy mane and markings stand out, and I wondered if she knew the weight of the name she carried.
Maybe I’d fucked up in giving her such a symbolic one. Maybe it was too much pressure.
Footsteps came from the front of the barn, which could have been from anyone, but I already knew who it was before he even rounded the corner.
Tucker’s whiskey-colored eyes locked with mine the moment I looked at him, and just seeing him made a fresh wave of hurt wash over me.
It’d been several hours since what happened in his bedroom, and while I wasn’t as distressed as I was then, my feelings still sat close to the surface.
Swallowing hard to keep myself in check, I looked back into the stall, hoping the sight of a sweet golden filly would ease the burning inside my soul as Tucker continued toward me.
“I thought I might find you here.” His rough drawl made my heart squeeze.
“Well, you found me,” I muttered, not wanting to look at him when he stopped beside me.
His proximity alone was making everything in me ache, but at the same time he was the one place I wanted to run to for comfort.
I wanted to bury my face in his neck and let him tell me it would all be okay.
Except I wasn’t sure I’d believe it right now.
The combination of it all was exhausting, and I’d never been so close to giving up as I was right now.
From the beginning, I’d known pursuing Tucker would be an uphill battle, and I’d likely fall somewhere along the way, but not once had I expected him to push me down.
His words had been more painful than any wound I’d ever endured before, and they cut deeper than any knife could have ever reached.
If it’d been anyone else, at any other time, saying what he’d said to me, those words would have been water sliding off my back.
But it’d been Tucker, and that made it hurt worse.
“Can we talk? I hated how we ended things earlier.”
“How we ended things?” I scoffed, shaking my head a little. “I think you said everything you needed to say, and I heard you loud and clear.”
“I know what I said was shitty—”
“Which part, Tucker?” I cut him off as I whirled on him. “The part where you said I’ve pushed you to pick me over Raleigh when we both know damn well I’ve never once asked that of you? Or was it the part where you told me you wouldn’t pick me if forced to make a choice?”
Tucker sucked in breath, jutting out his chin in response to my words, but nodded his head. “All of it.”
I rolled my eyes, not mollified by his immediate answer, and looked back into the stall. “Glad you can at least admit it.”
“Jackson.” Tucker’s voice was mournful as he said my name and the words that came after it.
“I didn’t mean what I said. I’d never had a dream like that of Raleigh before, and it scared me.
It felt like I was losing him all over again, and I know that doesn’t excuse what I said.
I took that fear and anger out on you when all you were trying to do was help me, and I’m sorry for it. ”
Maybe I was a sucker, or maybe it was the sincerity in his voice as he spoke, but all the anger and frustration that had ballooned up inside me deflated in an instant at his words.
What was left was a profound sadness—not just from how he’d treated me, but for the both of us. For Tucker, especially.
“You know,” I started as I watched the rowdy filly nip at her mother, trying to encourage her into more playtime before bed.
“I’ve been doing a lot of reading on grief.
At first, it was just so I could better support you when hard times like anniversaries or birthdays rolled around, but after last night…
” I trailed off for a moment, not sure how to explain why I’d gone looking for answers in the articles and sub-threads meant for those mourning the loss of someone close to them.
When I couldn’t find the words, I cleared my throat before continuing.
“Anyway, I came across something that said grief is like a ball inside a box. When you first experience grief, the ball takes up the whole box and every little jostle of it reminds you of your loss, and it hurts. But slowly, the ball begins to shrink while the box begins to grow until one day the ball is this little thing inside a large box. It’s still there because it won’t ever go away, but it’s able to roll around inside the box without being so painful.
Sometimes, though, the ball will hit the side of the box, and it’ll hurt and remind you of that loss all over again. ”
I took a breath to look over at Tucker whose eyes were wet as he stared at me.
“It’ss supposed to be this reminder that grief isn’t always linear, and just because you feel it after you’ve done so well at moving forward, it doesn’t mean you’re losing progress or being set back,” I explained as his throat clicked with an audible swallow.
“And it made me think that maybe your ball hasn’t shrunk at all in the three years since Raleigh has passed. ”
“I don’t think it has,” he croaked. “But I don’t know how to make it get any smaller either.”
“The box is supposed to represent your life, and it’s supposed to grow with all the new experiences and things you do after your loss.
I think your box has grown, Tucker, but the ball is growing with it, not shrinking.
And I think you’re the one stretching it.
” The last part was a whisper, unsure of how he’d respond to my words, but he just let out a broken sound as his hand rose to his ring.
“I’m scared that letting go of the hurt and sadness I have means he’s gone entirely.” His voice was watery, and it tore at my heart to see him like this.
“I know,” I responded honestly. “But this is what I meant when I told you that you had to pick either staying in your past or moving into your future. That doesn’t mean forgetting Raleigh. It doesn’t mean his memory can’t hold a special place in your heart.”
Tucker nodded, dashing away at some stray tears that were beginning to slide down his cheeks. I took in a shuddering breath as I tried to steel myself against the answer I might get to my next question.
“Do you want to be with me, Tucker?”
Whiskey-colored eyes met mine, and even though they were red-rimmed and full of so much hurt, they were still so fucking beautiful.
“Yes, I do.”
There wasn’t any hesitation. Just a strong conviction in his words that made my heart flutter in my chest. I held my hand out to him, and he let out a choked sound as he closed the distance to take it.
With him this close, it was hard for me not to pull him into my arms and bury my face into his neck, but I resisted against the urge.
Instead, I lifted my other hand to his face, rubbing my thumb over the coarse stubble that was forming his five o’clock shadow. Tucker squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his face into my touch, and I waited until his eyes were back on mine before I spoke again.
“I’m in love with you, Tucker Legare.” He sucked in a breath as his eyes blew wide, but I continued, not wanting him to respond just yet.
“And I say this because I need you to know that if you sincerely want to try building a life together with me, then I will do my best to support you through all the ups and downs we may face. I just have one request.”
I felt him stiffen under my fingers, and while I could guess some of the things going through his head, I didn’t want to leave him to stew.
“You need to get help. I can only do so much, and while everyone else on the farm wants to support you too, none of us are equipped to give you the help you really need. It’s not going to be easy, and you need someone whose expertise is supporting people through their grief. ”
It took him a moment, a long one where my heart felt like it might beat right out my chest as I waited, but then he nodded slowly. “I love you, too, and if going to therapy is what’s going to keep you here with me, then I’ll do it.”
Even as everything inside me softened to mush at his declaration, I shook my head. “No, Tucker. This needs to be for you, not for me. That’s why it’s a request, not a demand.”
His eyes bounced between mine before he spoke, the sound only audible because I was so close to him. “I don’t think I can do it for me. I think it has to be for you.”
I sucked in a slow breath, letting it out through my nose as I tried to process the surge of emotions brought on from what he’d said.
“I don’t want you to resent me if things get hard, Tucker.
I’m not asking this of you to try and punish you.
I genuinely want you to be happy and look forward to the life you can have. ”
Those amber eyes of his trailed over to Goldie and her mom, both resting comfortably after settling down, and the tip of his tongue came out to run along his lower lip.
“I think I need to do it for you to get me there, but I think once I’m doing it, it’ll become for me.
” When he glanced back at me, the look on his face was one I’d never seen before.
Like determination laced with resignation. “I know it’s time…”
My smile was soft, and maybe a little sad, as I pulled him into me.
The hand on his face moved to the back of his head while the other wrapped around his waist. I buried my nose into the crook of his neck as his strong arms wrapped around me and his face found a similar place against my neck.
We stood there for god knew how long, simply breathing each other in and letting the uncertainty that hung over our heads dissipate into the chilly spring night air.
When I finally pulled away, Tucker brushed a thumb along the fresh wetness under my eyes. I hadn’t even realized I’d been crying, but I let out a watery chuckle, the relief of having him back in my arms overwhelming.
“Can I ask you something?” he said, seeming to drink me in as he did.
“Of course.”
“Why do you always call me Tucker?”
It took me a second to process what he’d asked, and my eyebrows pulled together. “It’s your name?” I said, more like a question than a response.
“No, I know,” he said, shaking his head. “But most everyone calls me Tuck, and you never have. I just wasn’t sure why.”
I pulled back a little, confusion marring my features as I looked at him. “You told me not to.”
Tucker’s eyes blew wide, his face taking on a look of bewilderment as he shook his head more fervently. “I never said that.”
“Yes, you did,” I countered. “My first day. Granger called you Tuck, and when I joked if I could call you that too, you told me we weren’t friends and stormed out. I took that to mean I shouldn’t call you anything other than Tucker.”
He looked me over, recognition flaring in his eyes after a moment, and then he lifted a hand to run it over his mouth. “The cologne. I’d been so upset at smelling Raleigh’s old cologne on you, and when you bumped me with your shoulder, I lost it.”
Everything in me ached for him. There was a flare of guilt for hurting him the way I had unintentionally, but also of hope that maybe this would help him realize just how much the loss of Raleigh was affecting his life.
“Do you want me to call you something other than Tucker?” I asked gently.
His mouth opened like he was going to say something before he shut it again. “Whatever you want to call me is fine by me.”
The corner of my lips quirked up into a smirk. “Even if I wanted to call you asshole?”
Tucker let out a huff of amusement. “I would hope it’d be something a little more endearing, but maybe that’s what I deserve.”
I let out a quick breath through my nose before cupping the side of his neck and asking again, “What do you want me to call you?”
He pulled his lips between his teeth, something vulnerable flashing in his amber-colored eyes before he spoke again, the single word no louder than a whisper.
“Baby.”
A rumble of approval came from deep in my chest at that, the pet name settling something that hadn’t felt quite right until this moment. “Yeah, I like knowing you’re my baby, too.”
Tucker leaned in then, pressing his lips to mine in a kiss that felt like a promise for something more.
Things weren’t completely fixed, and there were a ton more hurdles we’d need to climb going forward, but at least now I had the confidence we could weather whatever was thrown our way.
The path wasn’t going to be straight forward, and I knew there would be more lows on the horizon, but as long as we kept looking forward, and committed to supporting each other, I had no doubt we were going to make it through.