Page 92 of Hauling Ashe

A flat package at the bottom is a model kit of wood pieces to build a replica of the helicopter we took over the Grand Canyon.

A small hourglass with a grain of sand is next, stamped with California on the bottom of it. A note is attached.

My heart is an hourglass; yours is the sand. I will not let you slip away from me again. Not this time.

My vision blurs. The last item in the box is a picture of me standing before that hotdog-holding Muffler Man. The image where I assumed Tucker must have played with the filter because I’m smiling, and my eyes look bright. Flipping over the printed picture, an inscription is on the back.

Illinois – but I’d like to be your gift from that state.

On that, I collapse to my desk chair and cover my face, crying into my hands.

“Don’t cry, sunshine.” The strong masculine voice has me spinning in my seat. I blink through tear-filled eyes and try to focus on the man leaning against the open door.

“Tucker,” I whisper.

“Hey, Mae. You forgot something in California.” He pats his chest.

I weakly chuckle but tears still fall. “You didn’t respond to my text.” My voice cracks. I thought maybe he didn’t want to hear my explanation after all, about my son, about the money.

“Would you believe I lost my phone somewhere at the winery?”

“Actually, I would.” I laugh a little harder since he has a habit of leaving it behind, especially if his thoughts are elsewhere.

Tucker turns his head, chewing at his lip a second. His arms are crossed and he’s casually leaning against the door jamb.

“I’m so sorry I left like that. I didn’t know what else to do. Owen called and said Wyatt was in an accident. I couldn’t get ahold of Pam, and I didn’t want to ruin your moment with Julia.” The words tumble out in a hiccupping mess. My eyes lift, locking on his as I remember what his son said to me. A chauffeur. “And I didn’t take the money.”

“I wouldn’t have held it against you if you had. But Jane told me you refused to accept it.”

“I didn’t want it. It didn’t feel right after—”

“After what?” Those silvery eyes dance as he pushes away from the door jamb and straightens, staring back at me.

“After I fell in love with you.”

Tucker smiles, slow and crooked, as he steps into my office. “I’m sorry for what my son said to you. He had no right—”

“He was only protecting you.”

“Well, I don’t need protection.” His eyebrows lift and the twelve-year-old inside me giggles. “You know what I mean,” he teases.

“I do,” I say. “But I don’t want you to ever think I did what we did for some ulterior motive. I—"

“Mae,” he stops me, dropping to a squat before me where I remain seated. “I love you, too.”

Another tear trickles down my face, relief washing over me.

“Does that make you sad?”

I shake my head, unable to find the words to express my happiness at first. Then another deluge of hiccupping statements fumbles from my mouth. “I’ve just missed you so much and I was scared you misunderstood why I left. Then I was afraid you won’t want to see me again. That the trip was just over, and I hadn’t had the chance to tell you what I wanted to say.”

“And what did you want to say to me, sunshine?” His voice lowers as his thumbs swipe the tears on my cheek.

“I wanted to thank you. Thank you for letting me drive you. Or you riding with me. Or however you want to look at sharing this trip. I found so many parts of me I didn’t even know were missing and you helped me discover them. You are the only souvenir I want from this journey.”

“Sunshine,” he whispers, leaning forward to land on his knees and brushing at my face with both hands. “It was an honor to travel with you. You helped me.”

“I’m sorry again I left so abruptly,” I mutter.