Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81794 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81794 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Surprised, Tacker frowns. “You mean… have I broken down and cried?”
Quickly, I shake my head. “Grieving is personal, and it doesn’t necessarily look like any one thing. We commonly associate crying with it, but I’m talking about really allowing yourself to process your loss, whatever that looks like. Or do you think you’ve been so mired in anger and guilt that you haven’t let the sadness in?”
He shakes his head, confusion crinkling his brow. “I don’t know.”
Straightening, I give him an encouraging smile. “Think about it. Maybe journal about it tonight. But give yourself permission to feel sad, Tacker. You need to mourn MJ. If you don’t, you’re missing a crucial step in healing.”
He swallows hard, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “I’ll put some thought to it.”
“Good,” I reply brightly, deciding we need to move to lighter things like food. “Do me a favor… go out on the porch and ring the dinner triangle.”
“Are you serious?” he asks, slowly rising from the table.
“Yup. Raul should be heading this way for lunch, but he always loves ringing that damn triangle for me like I’m Pavlov’s dog. I’m looking forward to doing it back to him.”
Tacker leaves, hits the porch, and reappears into my line of view through the window as I continue making lunch for us. I’m disappointed to see Raul has already arrived and is at the side of the house, bent over and washing his hands at the faucet.
Tacker sees him, too. Yet, he still picks up the metal bar attached to the triangle by a piece of twine. There’s no need to ring the bell, other than to startle Raul and to fulfill my sense of payback. I can’t help but laugh as Tacker does exactly that.
He bangs the metal bar on the inside of the triangle, watching intently as Raul skitters sideways away from the startling noise.
Whipping around, he glares at Tacker, who innocently says, “Oops. Sorry… didn’t see you there.”
I grin, dropping my eyes to my work. But they continue to talk, so there’s no stopping their voices, which carry to me.
Popping my head up, I peek through the window screen when Raul says, “You’re looking at Nora in a different way now.”
He’s moved to the edge of the porch, gazing up at Tacker. Since I’m not exactly sure what he means by that, my instinct is to say something so they both know I can hear everything.
But then Raul says, “You’re finally buying in to what she says, and I like that, amigo.”
I relax minutely as I realize Raul is referring to nothing more than my philosophy and counseling. Not that he should be talking about any other way Tacker might be looking at me.
“She shared with me what happened to her in Kosovo,” Tacker says, and I go tense again. Not that he’s saying something he shouldn’t, because Raul knows everything. Knows more about me than Tacker does because he’s had me cry on his shoulder many times when I was young and overly emotional about what had happened.
I tense because I hadn’t been sure just how much my story had helped Tacker.
Raul nods understandingly with a sage expression. “You two share a connection. A common experience now.”
“It helps,” Tacker admits. “More than I thought it would.”
“Respect it,” Raul advises. “And be grateful for it. She doesn’t do this for everyone.”
Tacker’s head tilts. “This?”
“Invite people into her home. Tell them about her past.” Raul pauses, staring off in the distance over the ranch. I know what he’s thinking. He’s grateful he’s still here with me. That I gave him a job after I bought the ranch, because Raul doesn’t really have anyone else.
His gaze moves to Tacker, and my eyes mist up a bit over the emotion in his voice. “If you treat her right, Nora will be a friend to you for life. You’ll never find someone more loyal or dedicated. Make sure you’re worth it.”
Those last words have an edge.
Tacker smirks, his voice slightly teasing. “Yeah, yeah… I know… or you’ll whip my ass.”
Raul grins up at Tacker, making me realize he must have threatened him with the same thing before. I should admonish him for bullying my client, but I can’t. I love him too much to do so, and Tacker seems to be okay with the jest.
Raul’s booted feet hit the wooden porch, then the front door opens and both men enter the kitchen. When I glance at Raul, he shoots me a short wink, which means he knows I was eavesdropping the whole time.
I wink back at him.
CHAPTER 11
Tacker
This may have been one of the roughest weeks of my life—and one of the best at the same time. I stepped back onto the ice with the team, practicing with them each day. I still have the cast on, and I’ve not been cleared for game play, but, fuck, it felt great.