Chapter 5 - Naomi

The rhythmic pattern of rain against the windows fills the silence between us. Walker shifts his weight, clearly as uncertain as I am about what to do next.

"You, uh...you want the house tour?" he finally offers, gesturing vaguely down the hallway.

I can"t help but smile at his fumbling attempt at hospitality, "Sure, lead the way."

He nods once, then turns on his boot heel to guide me further into the ranch house interior.

"Not much to see in here," Walker grunts as we pass through the hallway.

"House seems cozy, though."

He shoots me a sidelong glance, one eyebrow quirked as if he doesn"t quite believe me. I hold his gaze steadily until he gives a slight shake of the head and continues.

The hallway opens up into a spacious country kitchen, complete with a large oak table and antique wood-burning stove. Despite the rustic decor, the space is surprisingly modern and well-appointed.

"I do most of my livin" right here," Walker explains, almost self-consciously.

He runs a hand over the back of one of the chairs as if reassuring himself.

"Makes sense," I nod. "It"s a great kitchen. Plenty of room to move around."

He grunts in agreement, then continues the tour through an archway into a sunken living room. This space is cozier, with overstuffed furniture positioned around a massive river rock fireplace.

As I take it all in, a slight prickling works its way up the back of my neck - the unmistakable feeling of being watched. I turn to find Walker"s eyes trained intently on me, gauging my reaction to his home.

Our gazes lock, the air thickening between us. I sense him teetering on the verge of saying something before visibly thinking better of it.

"Anything else to the grand tour?" I prompt lightly, trying to ease the sudden tension.

Walker blinks slowly, then gives a shake of his head.

"Nah, that"s the main spaces. Bedrooms and bathrooms are back that way." He jerks a thumb over his shoulder.

"Good to know," I reply with a small smile, pulling my focus away from whatever...that...was a moment ago.

An uncomfortable silence falls between us once more, the rain still providing a steady ambient pattern. Walker seems to be struggling internally, like he wants to say or do something but isn"t sure how.

Just as I"m debating whether to excuse myself, he straightens abruptly.

"Do you want another glass of tea or something else? Hot chocolate, maybe? This storm doesn"t look like it"s lettin" up anytime soon."

I seize the conversational lifeline gratefully.

"You read my mind. Another tea would be perfect. I"m starting to prune up over here."

The barest hint of a grin flickers across his lips as he nods toward the kitchen.

"Alright then, doc. Let"s get you dried off."

I follow Walker back into the kitchen, taking a seat at the worn wooden table as he moves to the stove to put the kettle on. His broad shoulders shift beneath his shirt as he works, and I quickly avert my gaze before he catches me staring.

"You want sugar or anything in yours?" he asks over his shoulder.

"Just a spoon, please," I reply, clasping my hands together on the tabletop.

He grunts an acknowledgment and grabs an airtight container from the corner. The domesticity of this simple act is strangely endearing coming from this gruff, solitary man. I find myself smiling faintly.

The shriek of the kettle"s whistle breaks the comfortable silence a few minutes later.

He sets the steaming mugs on the table and takes the seat across from me.

"So," he begins, wrapping his calloused hands around his cup. "You from around these parts originally?"

I shake my head.

"No, I"m from over in Woodville, actually."

Walker smiles, clears his throat roughly, and takes a hefty swig of his hot tea, putting his mug down with a dull thunk.

"And you, uh, you got any other hobbies besides patchin" up animals? Or is that pretty much it for you?"

I consider the question, mulling over how much to reveal. Before I can respond, a harsh crack of thunder booms directly overhead, making me flinch violently. My mug clatters against the table, sloshing tea over the rim.

"Easy there," Walker"s gruff voice cuts through the ringing in my ears.

His hands settle over mine, steadying my trembling fingers.

I exhale a shaky breath, nodding wordlessly. His calloused palms are warm and surprisingly gentle against my skin. I fight the irrational urge to turn my hands over, to lace our fingers together properly.

"You"re alright," he murmurs, holding my gaze with those arresting hazel eyes. "Just a little noise is all. You"re safe here with me."

His words send a shiver down my spine that has nothing to do with the storm raging outside. I can only mutely nod again, temporarily transfixed by the slight quirk of his full lips as he speaks.

Walker seems to realize he"s still gripping my hands. He clears his throat and abruptly pulls away, leaving my fingers tingling from the lingering heat.

"You were sayin"?" he prompts gruffly, clearly aiming to move past the unexpectedly tender moment. "About hobbies and such?"

"R-right," I stammer, pushing away the dizzying swirl of thoughts and sensations. "Well, when I"m not at the clinic or out on farm calls, I do actually have a few other interests."

He arches an expectant eyebrow but remains silent, sipping his tea.

"Mainly outdoor stuff," I continue, grateful for the conversational reset. "Hiking, camping, that kind of thing. Anything to get me out in nature, far away from people and noise for a little while."

A flicker of understanding sparks behind Walker"s eyes at my words.

"Can"t say as I blame you there, doc. Sometimes you just gotta unplug, get away from it all."

"Exactly." I nod firmly. "Remove all the distractions and chaos and just...breathe for a while."

"I reckon that"s part of what draws a fella to this kind of life, too," he muses, sweeping the ranch with his arm. "Peace and quiet when you need it most."

"I can definitely see the appeal."

Somehow, despite our divergent backgrounds, we"ve managed to stumble onto common ground in our shared need for solitude.

Eventually, Walker tears his eyes away with a subtle shake of his head.

"Well, now you went and made this old ranch start soundin" like some kinda damn nature retreat."

The wry twitch of his lips lets me know he"s teasing. I can"t help but grin back at him.

"Hey, if the cowboy gig doesn"t work out, you could always rebrand."

Walker chuckles dryly at my quip.

"Is that so? You think there"s much money to be made in moldin" city folks into nature babies?"

"Who knows?" I shrug, taking another sip of my drink. "You might just be tapping into an untapped market."

He shakes his head with a snort of amusement.

"I"ll be sure to get right on that. Soon as I get done herdin" cows and muckin" stalls."

An unexpected pang of fondness washes over me at the casual sarcasm. There"s something refreshingly authentic about Walker, free of any airs or pretenses. What you see is simply what you get.

"Fair enough," I concede easily. "Guess that cattle ranching career will just have to do for now."

He grunts in acknowledgment, knuckles rapping absently against the tabletop. A lull settles between us, but it feels more comfortable than awkward this time around.

Just two people enjoying a respite from the world outside, momentarily united by the simple pleasure of hot drinks and easy conversation.

Eventually though, I know I"ll need to be getting back. As much as I"m loath to admit it, this little bubble of tranquility can"t last forever.

"You know," Walker says at length, dragging me from my thoughts. "You never did tell me how you ended up all the way out here. Long way from Woodville, ain"t it?"

I nod slowly, drawing invisible patterns on the worn wood with my fingertip.

"Yeah, I guess it is at that. Let"s just say there wasn"t much keeping me there after my parents passed."

His eyes flick up to meet mine, that steady blue gaze holding a glimmer of understanding and something else I can"t quite read.

"My folks had this kinda wanderlust, you know?" I continue after a beat. "We moved around a ton when I was a kid - new town every couple of years, chasing whatever caught their fancy at the time. But no matter where we ended up, that little farm outside of Woodville was always home base. It"s where we"d resettle between their wild harebrained schemes."

I shake my head, losing myself in the memories of a childhood spent constantly packing up and moving on. "Anyway, after they were gone, I just...didn"t have any reason to stick around that place. Everything felt haunted without them there. So I lit out and ended up here by sheer chance."

I chance a glance up to find Walker studying me intently; his brow furrowed slightly.

The remnants of our tea have long gone cold, but neither of us seems to notice or care.

For now, this odd little interlude is all that matters.