Chapter 5 - Tucker
I stand there like an idiot watching Marley's truck disappear down the driveway, kicking up dust as she goes, and the only thought running through my head is: You're a coward, Tucker Hayes.
I had the perfect moment. Multiple perfect moments, actually. Standing at that fence line with her, close enough to touch, close enough to see the way her brown eyes went soft when I talked about my dad, close enough to notice the way she kept adjusting those glasses like she always does.
And I did nothing.
Just stood there with my hands in my pockets like some teenage kid too scared to ask a girl to dance, and now she's gone and I'm standing in the driveway alone, and I'm so pissed at myself I could punch something.
"You're an idiot," I mutter, turning back toward the barn.
"Yeah, you are."
I spin around to find Wade leaning against the fence near the equipment barn, arms crossed, that knowing smirk on his face that I've wanted to punch off him since we were sixteen.
"How long have you been standing there?"
"Long enough to watch you let her drive away without doing a damn thing about it." Wade pushes off the fence and walks toward me. "What the hell, Tucker?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Bullshit. You just spent the last hour showing that woman around the ranch like you were trying to sell her on the place. Or on yourself. Hard to tell which."
I run a hand through my hair, frustrated. "She's Butterscotch's vet. I was being polite."
"You showered and shaved for polite?"
"Jesus Christ, is everyone keeping track of my hygiene now?"
Wade grins. "When it’s this entertaining? Absolutely." He stops a few feet away, and his expression changes from amused to serious. "You like her."
"I don't—"
"Tucker. Come on. I just watched you give her a full ranch tour. Saw the way you were looking at her. That's not polite. That's interested."
I want to argue, but the truth is Wade's right.
I am interested. More than interested. I spent the entire tour trying to impress Marley Williams, trying to show her that this ranch is worth something, that I'm worth something, and now she's gone and I didn't even have the balls to ask if I could see her again outside of a professional capacity.
"It doesn't matter," I say finally. "She's Emma's vet. Well, Butterscotch's vet. Same thing. There are boundaries."
"Fuck boundaries."
I stare at Wade. "Did you just say fuck boundaries?"
"Yeah. I did." He crosses his arms again, looking more serious than I've seen him in months. "You know what I learned in the past two weeks? That sometimes the best things in life come from ignoring what you think you're supposed to do and just going for what you want."
"Wade—"
"I'm serious, Tucker. I fought Sierra's investment because I thought I was supposed to protect this ranch from outsiders.
Thought I knew better than everyone else.
And you know what happened? I almost lost the best thing that ever happened to me because I was too stubborn and scared to take a risk. "
This is surreal. Wade Turner, the same Wade who put the ranch above everything, who never dated, who laughed at the idea of love, is standing here telling me to take a risk on a woman I barely know.
"You and Sierra are different," I say. "She's living here. She's part of the ranch now. Marley's just—"
"Just what? Just the woman who made you smile for the first time in months? Just the woman you can't stop thinking about?" Wade shakes his head. "I saw how you looked at her, man. That's not nothing."
"I have Emma to think about."
"I know you do. But Tucker, you've been alone for seven years. Seven years of putting Emma first, putting the ranch first, putting everyone and everything before yourself. Don't you think you deserve something for you?"
"Not if it risks hurting Emma."
"And what if it doesn't? What if it makes Emma's life better?
What if having someone in your life who makes you happy also makes you a better father?
" Wade steps closer. "Look, I can't believe I'm the one saying this.
Two weeks ago, I would've told you to focus on the ranch and forget about women.
But Sierra changed my perspective on a lot of things. "
"Like what?"
"Like the fact that being happy doesn't make you weak or distracted. It makes you stronger. Better at everything else you do." He pauses. "You've been just surviving, Tucker. For seven years. Don't you want to actually live again?"
I look at Wade and I see something in his expression I've never seen before. Peace. Contentment. Like he finally figured out something the rest of us are still struggling with.
"What happened to you?" I ask.
"I fell in love." He says it simply, like it's the most natural thing in the world. "And it scared the shit out of me, but I did it anyway. And now I can't imagine my life without Sierra in it."
"You've known her for two weeks."
"I know. Sounds insane, right? But Tucker, when it's right, it's right. Time doesn't matter as much as you think it does." He steps closer, his voice dropping. "If you have any interest in her, even if it's just a tiny bit, you should go for it. Love is worth trying."
I can't believe Wade Turner—Wade fucking Turner—is standing here telling me that love is worth trying.
The same man who told Colt two months ago that relationships were a distraction we couldn't afford.
The same man who worked eighteen-hour days and slept in the barn when things got busy because nothing mattered more than this ranch.
"Who are you and what have you done with Wade?" I ask.
He grins. "I know. Sierra did a number on me. But I'm serious, Tucker. You've got a chance here. Don't waste it because you're scared."
"I'm not scared—"
"You are. And that's okay. But being scared isn't a good enough reason to let something pass you by. Especially when I can see how much you want it."
I think about Marley adjusting her glasses, the way she said the ranch wasn't broken, just loved. The way she listened when I talked about my dad without looking at me with pity.
"What am I supposed to do? Just show up at her clinic and ask her out?"
"Yeah. That's exactly what you do."
"That's insane."
"So is letting her leave without telling her how you feel." Wade claps me on the shoulder. "Look, I'm not saying you have to propose marriage. Just ask her to dinner. See where it goes. But do something, Tucker. Because if you let this pass because you're scared, you're going to regret it."
He walks away before I can respond, heading back toward the equipment barn where Mason and Garrett are probably still working on that ancient baler.
I stand there in the driveway, the sun beating down on my shoulders, my heart pounding in my chest.
Wade's right. I know he's right. But the thought of driving to Marley's clinic, of walking in there and asking her out in person when she probably has clients waiting and work to do is terrifying.
But so is the thought of not doing it. Of calling her at five about the catheter and pretending everything's professional and fine when it's not. Of seeing her tomorrow morning for Butterscotch's final check and not being able to say what I really want to say.
*Fuck it.*
I pull out my phone and text Boone: *Can you check on Butterscotch in an hour? I need to run into town.*
His response comes immediately: *Everything okay?*
*Yeah. Just something I need to do.*
*This have anything to do with the pretty vet?*
*Mind your own business.*
*That's a yes. Go get her, Tucker.*
I shove my phone in my pocket and head for my truck. My heart's racing, my palms are actually sweating, and I feel like a teenager about to ask out his first crush. But I'm doing this. I'm actually doing this.
The drive into Blackwater Falls takes fifteen minutes, and I spend the entire time rehearsing what I'm going to say. Trying to find words that don't sound desperate or crazy or like I'm some lonely rancher who can't handle a professional relationship.
But every version I come up with sounds worse than the last, so eventually I give up and decide I'll just wing it.
Marley's clinic is on the outskirts of town—a converted barn with a hand-painted sign that reads "Dr. M. Williams, DVM" hanging above the door. There's only one other car in the small parking lot, which I'm hoping means she's not swamped with clients.
I park my truck and sit there for a moment, my hands on the steering wheel, trying to convince myself this isn't the stupidest thing I've ever done.
*You showered for her this morning. You spent an hour showing her the ranch. This isn't any crazier than all of that.*
I climb out of the truck before I can talk myself out of it and walk toward the clinic door. My boots feel heavy, my legs feel like lead, and my heart is pounding so hard I'm surprised it's not visible through my shirt.
The door opens with a soft chime, and I step inside.
The clinic is small but clean, smelling like antiseptic and dog shampoo. There's a reception desk to my left, currently unmanned, and a small waiting area with plastic chairs and dog-eared magazines. A door behind the desk presumably leads to the exam rooms.
"I'll be right with you!" Marley's voice calls from somewhere in the back.
I stand there awkwardly, my hands in my pockets, trying to figure out what to do with myself. Sit down? Stay standing? Run back to my truck and pretend this never happened?
Before I can decide, Marley emerges from the back room. She's taken off her canvas jacket and is wearing just jeans and a blue t-shirt that says "I'm a vet, what's your superpower?" Her hair is still in that ponytail, her glasses are still slightly crooked, and when she sees me her eyes go wide.
"Tucker? Is everything okay? Is it Butterscotch?"
"No—he's fine. Everything's fine." I pull my hands out of my pockets, then immediately put them back. "I just... I needed to talk to you."