I should probably update Finn on the change of plans. Except when I reach into my pocket to pull out my phone, it’s not there.
Shit.I must’ve left it on the counter before we left.
Whatever. It’s fine. We aren’t leaving the property, so it’ll be okay.
Handing me the reins once he’s finished, Gentry asks, “Need help getting up there?”
The question is genuine and holds zero judgement, but I can’t help but feel embarrassed. Everybody here is so skilled with all things ranch life, and I stick out like a sore thumb. “No,that’s okay. I swear, I know how to at least get on her and ride.” I laugh, then wince at how awkward it sounds to my own ears.
Gentry chuckles, the sound deep and throaty. It reminds me of Finn, and my throat tightens.
It’s a warm, sunny day, but there’s a slight breeze that makes the ride down to the creek nice and cool. Tucker and I don’t ride horseback very often, but every time that we have, he sits in front of me and holds on so well. He clearly has plenty more experience on horses than I do, which is kind of sad, considering how much older I am than him. But I suppose growing up on a ranch with a bunch of seasoned cowboys will do that to you.
Once we’re down at the spot we typically hang out, I tie up the horse, making sure she can’t wander off on us. Thankfully, that’s never happened, but I could totally see it happening to me at some point. Losing a huge horse seems on par for me.
“Want to eat or draw first?” I ask Tucker as I unload the backpack.
He ponders for a moment with his head tilted to the side. “Draw!”
“You got it, dude.”
I brought a crossword puzzle to work on, but I barely get any of it accomplished because watching Tucker is way more interesting. His tongue pokes out of his mouth as he concentrates on the sketch, his gaze alternating between the horse near the tree and the sketch pad in his lap. He hums from time to time, which I think is the cutest thing ever, and every once in a while, he’ll pause to show me what he’s done so far. I’ll give it to him…for how young he is, he draws pretty well. Probably better than I could.
After about forty-five minutes, he pauses, setting the paper beside him as he announces, “I’m hungry.”
“Me too. Let’s eat.”
I hand him a sandwich, his water bottle, and an apple to start before unwrapping the other sandwich. For the most part, we eat in silence, both of us gazing out over the creek at the birds that fly back and forth. It’s gorgeous out here. I don’t think I’ll ever get over the views.
“Do you like living here?” Tucker asks me, the question taking me by surprise.
“I do like living here. Do you?”
He nods. “Yeah. Do you like it better than where you lived before?”
Thinking about the question for a moment, I finally say, “I liked living there in a different way, but I think I do, like living here better, that is.”
“How was it different?”
I’m realizing that I don’t know if Tucker has ever been outside of Wolf Creek. How do I explain city living to a little boy who’s only ever known the country?
“You know how here, there’re a lot of open fields and farm animals, and not a lot of stores or buildings?”
He nods, chomping down on his sandwich.
“In Portland, it’s the opposite,” I explain. “Lots of stores, lots of houses close together, and not a lot of farmland. It’s busier, a lot of people walking around with places to go.”
“Oh, like when we went out to dinner on Easter after Uncle Hollis burned the ham.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, probably like that, but more.”
Tucker’s face scrunches up. “I don’t think I’d like that.”
“Yeah, it’s definitely something you gotta get used to.”
“Well, I like that you’re here.”
My chest squeezes. “You do?”
