"Yeah." Tucker sets down the backpack and pulls out a blanket, spreading it on the grass. "Frank used to come up here when he needed to think. Or when he needed to remember why all the hard work was worth it."
Chapter 7 - Tucker
I can't believe how things are going.
When I planned this… Well, when I panicked about this yesterday and called Wade at eleven PM asking for advice, I imagined taking Marley to Maria's for dinner. Wearing my one good button-down shirt that doesn't have any stains on it. Sitting across from her at a candlelit table, trying to remember proper table manners and not spill anything on myself.
Something classy. Something I'd hate every second of but would endure because she deserves it.
Instead, we're sitting on a blanket on Frank's hill, eating sandwiches and pasta salad out of Tupperware containers, and it's perfect. Better than perfect. This I can survive. This I can actually enjoy.
I've always loved this view. The way the valley spreads out below us, the mountains in the distance, the ranch buildings looking small but incredible. Frank used to say you could see your whole life from up here if you looked hard enough.
But right now, I can't take my eyes off Marley.
She's sitting cross-legged on the blanket, her dark hair catching the sunlight, those glasses slightly crooked on her nose. Her lips are curled at the ends as she takes in the view, and there's something about the way she looks—content, peaceful, like she belongs here—that makes me genuinely happy.
"This is beautiful," she says, turning to look at me. There's something vulnerable in her expression. "I know this might not be the best moment to ask you this and I'm okay if you don't want to talk about it, but... I'd love to know what happened with Emma's mother. If you're comfortable sharing."
I haven't talked about Jenna in a very long time. The guys know the basics. She left, that she never looked back, but I don't discuss the details. Don't let myself think about it too much because thinking about it means feeling it, and feeling it means remembering how I failed.
But Marley deserves to know the truth. This is how you build a relationship or get close to one: by sharing personal stuff. By letting someone see the ugly parts along with the good.
I'm just not used to it.
"Her name was Jenna," I say, staring out at the valley instead of at Marley. "We met when I was thirty-two. She was twenty-five, working at a bar in town, and I thought she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. We got married eight months later. Too fast, everyone said, but we were in love and stupid and thought that was enough."
I pause, trying to find the right words.
"Emma came along a year after that. We were happy about it. Or I thought we were." I run a hand through my hair. "I was working crazy hours back then. Frank was getting older, needed more help with the ranch. I'd leave before Emma woke up and come home after she was asleep. Jenna was alone with a baby all day, and I didn't... I didn't see what it was doing to her."
Marley's quiet, listening.
"One day I came home and Jenna was gone. Just packed her bags and left. No warning, no conversation, nothing. She left a note that said motherhood wasn't for her, that she'd made a mistake, that she needed to figure out who she was without us." My jaw tightens. "Emma was three years old. Three. And her mother just... walked away."
"Tucker—"
"I blame myself," I continue, the words coming faster now. "I was working too much, neglecting my marriage, not paying attention to what Jenna needed. But Emma..." My voice cracks. "Emma didn't deserve to lose her mother because of my mistakes. She was just a baby. And Jenna never looked back. Sends a birthday card once a year and that's it. No phone calls, no visits, nothing."
I finally look at Marley, and her mouth is open in a big O, clearly surprised. Maybe horrified. I don't blame her.
"I'll never forgive her," I say quietly. "If I could delete her from my mind, I would. But she's part of Emma's story, and Emma deserves to know the truth when she's old enough to understand it."
Marley's eyes are shining with unshed tears. "Tucker, your ex-wife made an insane mistake. Not being happy in a relationship is one thing, that happens, people grow apart. But leaving your daughter? That's a whole lot more than just being unhappy. That's... I don't even have words for what that is."
"Yeah." I look back at the valley. "I try not to think about it. It's in the past. Emma barely remembers her. She was so young when Jenna left. Sometimes I think that's a blessing. Other times I wonder if it's worse, not having any memories at all."
"I'm sorry for asking," Marley says softly. "I didn't mean to bring up painful—"
"It's fine." I turn back to her. "If we didn't have this conversation today, it would come up later. As much as I hate talking about it, it's part of who I am. Part of what made me the kind of father I am now. Terrified of screwing up, terrified of letting anyone into Emma's life who might leave."
Marley adjusts her glasses, and I can see her processing this, understanding what I'm really saying. That letting her in is scary. That this matters more than just a casual date.
"Can I ask you something?" I say, needing to shift the focus away from my failures.
"Of course."
"Why did you come to Blackwater Falls?"
