Chapter 17
It had taken a little while, but by the time the end of October arrived, Tucker could honestly say that having two kids in the house felt normal.
Ashton had taken over all the minute-to-minute planning for the duration of Tucker’s paternity leave. That left Tucker free to keep in touch with all the human dynamics without working full time, mostly because work was right there and involved all his favourite people.
After the morning routine at the Stewart household was done and the little ones and Ginny were headed for a nap, it wasn’t a hardship for Tucker to head to the barns to work a little and chat with the hands.
Seasons were in transition. With winter ready to arrive, more tasks were indoors or shifted to regular maintenance. They broke out the quads and UTVs and all the fiddly little repairs that got shoved aside all summer and fall were finally being taken care of.
But the biggest thing Tucker was still waiting on was for Sasha to break down and share what was on her mind.
She was her usual active self during her weeks at Silver Stone, especially when she was working with the horses. Watching her ride with Kelli coaching from the sidelines was a joy.
Tucker suspected that Sasha might end up the best rider of them all once she had a few more years under her belt.
But something was up, and no amount of hinting had gotten her to talk yet.
Dustin had been deliberately vague then changed the topic when Tucker had asked after they’d come back from Crooked Creek the last time. “She asked me not to intervene. It’s nothing unsafe, or I’d tell you, but she’ll talk when she’s ready,” he assured Tucker.
So when Sasha stormed into his office the day before she was scheduled to head south, Tucker was ready for anything.
She met his gaze, legs spread in a firm stance as if bracing for a battle. “I know you’re my uncle, but right now you’re my foreman, okay?”
“Am I in trouble?” he asked.
A glimmer of amusement broke through her serious expression. “As foreman, no. As my uncle, yes.”
He raised a brow.
“Your kids are too damn cute. Demi decided she and David needed to have matching Halloween costumes. Auntie Ginny and I spent the morning making Demi a princess dress and him a frog costume.”
Ha. He could picture it. “You’re a good cousin to them.”
She smiled wryly. “And it’s good to start this conversation with a happy thought like that. But you’re back to being my foreman now, okay?”
“Is it going to be a bad conversation?” Tucker asked.
“Maybe not.” She took a deep breath. “I can see myself working at Crooked Creek, but not the way things are right now. And part of me is holding back because I don’t want to talk to Great-uncle Frank the way I need to in order to make a final decision.”
So something was up. “Sounds as if you’re in limbo.”
Sasha dipped her chin slowly. “I need to solve this problem myself, because it’s only the first rung of future disputes. But I also don’t want to be the one who breaks things between our ranches in the process.”
“I don’t think you could,” Tucker assured her. “When Frank brought up this entire issue, his number one concern was keeping the peace between the ranches.”
“But he thought Dustin was going to be the one he’d hand the reins to,” Sasha offered quietly.
Ah. “Valid point.” Tucker eyed her. “What do you need from me?”
Sasha’s stance firmed again, and her chin went up. “Can you come to Crooked Creek with me for a day?” He must have looked confused because she hurried on. “Not to solve my problem or back me up. I want you to be my foreman. If I’m out of line, you can call me on it instead of Uncle Frank.”
Tucker nodded slowly, considering. “That’s a really mature and smart solution. Well done.”
Her eyes brightened. “It’s still going to suck, but it’ll be easier with you there.”
“I’ll make sure I’m available. I’ve got a few things I can discuss with Adam while I’m there. He’s been asking me to come visit.”
She made a face. “Poor Adam.”
Tucker frowned.
“I’m about to throw a fox into the henhouse. I think it’s what Adam wants from the hints he’s been dropping, but I’m not one hundred percent sure.” Sasha’s lips quirked slightly. “Either way, tomorrow is going to be one hell of a ride.”
They drove down in their own vehicles. Sasha now owned one of the newer old ranch trucks, and she kept a steady pace on the highway. Unlike the rest of the Stone family who seemed to take offense at the drive between the ranches and tried to get it over with as quickly as possible.
Tucker had given Adam and Uncle Frank a heads-up that he was coming. Adam met him and Sasha, then directed them to the machine shed to find Frank.
Sasha squared her shoulders then led the way in.
Frank was rummaging through items on the shelves, cursing softly when they entered.
His expression moved through a frown to surprise then confusion as he put the old filter in his hands back on the shelf and paced forward to extend his hand.
“Tucker. Good to see you. Don’t get you down here very often. ”
“Nice to get away to see the other side of the valley now and then,” Tucker offered.
Frank nodded before turning to Sasha. “Welcome back. You have a good Thanksgiving?”
“We did,” she told him. “You have a couple of minutes to chat?”
His frown returned as he glanced at the disorderly shelf. “Right now?”
“If now doesn’t work, maybe at lunch?” Sasha suggested.
“No, now is fine.” He stood and folded his arms over his chest, everything about him screaming a conversation with Sasha was the last thing he wanted.
“Just so you know, I asked Tucker to be here. If I’m out of line, he’s going to call me on it.” Sasha spoke quietly but firmly. She wasn’t backing down.
Frank glanced at Tucker, confusion back in place. “You know what she’s talking about?”
“Not yet, but she’s got a good head on her shoulders, so I think it’s important to listen,” Tucker assured him.
A quiet moment passed, then Frank nodded.
Sasha inhaled, slow and deep. That chin went up again, before she deliberately lowered it and met Frank’s gaze.
“I’m one hundred percent committed to the family and doing what’s right for both our ranches.
I know I’m not Dustin. I know I’m young.
And I really, really know that I have a ton of stuff to learn. ”
Frank’s expression was grim, but he stayed silent.
“While I’m still learning, while I’m growing, I need to know if I’m allowed to tell you what I see.”
“Allowed?”
“Yes, allowed.” Sasha lifted her shoulders in a resigned shrug. “I made a suggestion about a maintenance board and was told you deal with all the lists. The next week the team I was working with wasted a morning because the supply shed was a mess and half the items we needed were out of stock.”
“Things run out at times. Someone goes to get them,” Frank retorted. He glanced at Tucker and shrugged. “You know how it is. Plus, it’s only forty-five minutes to town.”
Tucker stayed silent as Sasha continued her list. “Forty-five minutes one way is an hour and a half that the people who didn’t go to town could have spent on other small tasks that no one knows to do because they’re on some master list in your head that no one else can read.”
Frank wiped his hands on a rag as he answered. “I’ve run this ranch a long time.”
“I know.”
“I know what needs doing.”
“You do.”
Frank all but growled in exasperation. “Then what’s the issue?”
“That not everyone knows what needs doing. What’s more important to you? That Crooked Creek is well run or that you’re calling all the shots?”
Frank went still, his gaze flicking to where Tucker stood slightly out of the way.
Tucker considered. She’d been a touch harsh, but the comment was nowhere near as brash as some he’d heard Frank spout over the years.
The space all but crackled with tension as Sasha spoke again.
“I’m sorry, that came out harder than I intended.
But I see things, and since I do want the best for Crooked Creek, I feel the need to say something.
The place isn’t badly run, but there are areas where a little more structure would help.
A maintenance board. A supply list. Fueling the side-by-sides before they’re parked for the night. ”
Frank stared out the door at the row of machines, the crease back between his brows. “We fuel when they need to be fueled.”
“And every week I’ve been here, half the time the one I’ve grabbed has been nearly empty.”
“Then you filled it.”
“Yes, because I had time. What if you grabbed one at five a.m. in the morning? Or what if Adam needed one in a hurry? He’d have to start his day with yesterday’s unfinished task.”
Frank didn’t answer.
“At Silver Stone, the rule is that the next person shouldn’t have to guess. If you use the last of something, you write it down. If a gate drags, you write it down. If a machine is below fifty percent on fuel, you fill it before you park it. It makes the work smoother.”
Frank looked at her for a long moment. “You think we’re sloppy.”
“No, Uncle Frank. Not sloppy.” This time the answer came fast. Firm. “I think you’ve been on your own for so long you’ve gotten used to trying to carry too much by yourself.”
Tucker was as shocked at the comment as Frank.
And the truth of her observation flowed around them, applying a balm to the sore spots of the conversation.
Sasha softened her voice. “And I think if I’m supposed to learn how Crooked Creek runs, I need to be able to say what I notice.
You don’t have to agree with it. You don’t have to change everything because I mention it.
But if every suggestion sounds like an insult to you, I don’t know how this will work. ”
Frank looked down at the rag in his hands. He turned it once, twice, worrying at a frayed edge. “I’m not used to being told how to run my own place.”
“I know.”
“And you’re not used to holding your tongue,” he muttered. “You kind of remind me of Charity.”
That startled a laugh out of Sasha.