Chapter 6 - Naomi

Walker"s gaze remains fixed on me with an unreadable intensity.

"What about you?" I ask finally, desperate to fill the void. "You always been out here on your own?"

He blinks slowly, almost as if shaking himself from some trance.

"Nah, I uh...I had folks once upon a time."

There"s a heaviness to his words, a weight of melancholy I wasn"t expecting, and I quickly regret prying.

"You don"t have to..." I start to backpedal, but Walker cuts me off with a curt shake of his head.

"It"s alright, Doc. There"s no sense avoiding it now." He exhales a harsh breath through his nose. "Pop was a career Army, like me, for a spell. He kept us movin" all over the kingdom come growing up—new base, new town, every couple of years, just like you."

A rueful smile ghosts across his lips. "The only real constant was Mama. Hell, she thrived on all that ramblin", embracing every new place like she was born to it. Probably where I get my own ramblin" bones from, if I"m being honest."

I listen in respectful silence, struck by how easily he"s opening up now. As if a dam has burst after years of self-imposed isolation.

"A few years back, they settled down for good. Got themselves a little slice of heaven down in Florida - Mama"s pick, of course, bein" a beach bunny at heart." A chuckle rumbles up from deep within his broad chest at the memory. "Figured they"d start puttin" down some real roots, you know? Slow it down and enjoy the simple life for a change." His gaze drops back to the scarred tabletop, smile fading. "That was the plan, anyhow. Before the cancer took Mama a couple of years later."

I feel my throat constrict with sudden empathy.

"Walker, I...I"m so sorry."

He shrugs his shoulder in a clear attempt at nonchalance, but his eyes remain shadowed.

"It is what it is, I reckon. Pop...well, he was never quite the same after that. Just kinda went through the motions, incomplete-like, without her there to anchor him."

I have to resist the urge to reach across the table, to offer some small physical comfort. But I can sense the wound there is still fresh, raw, despite the years.

"It was just him and me for a stretch," Walker continues gruffly. "Bummin" around that little beach house all aimless, both of us too damned stubborn to admit we couldn"t hack it without Mama"s light guidin" us along." His mouth twists in a rueful smirk. "Shacked up in that postage stamp of a house for near on six months after she passed. Can"t imagine how we didn"t kill each other within a week."

I can"t help but huff out a surprised laugh at that. Walker"s lips quirk upwards, eyes crinkling faintly at the corners.

"Truth is, that whole situation was just...toxic as hell for both of us," he admits soberly once our brief spark of amusement subsides. "Stayin" there was like sliding into a rut that damn near broke us. We needed a change, fresh air in our lungs. That"s when I found this place," Walker says, gesturing around at the rustic interior of his home. "Stumbled across the listing for the Triple J pretty much by accident. But as soon as I laid eyes on it..."

He trails off, shaking his head slowly in wonder. As if he"s still trying to make sense of the inexplicable pull this ramshackle ranch exerted over him from the start.

"Well, I just knew, you know? Felt it in my bones, like comin" home after bein" away too damn long."

I nod, understanding that strange intuition all too well myself. The undeniable rightness that settles over you when you"ve finally found your place.

"So, I bought it," Walker continues simply. "Cash sale, no muss, no fuss. Packed up what little we had left, and Pop and I hit the road, headed out here to start over fresh."

"Just like that?" I can"t help but interject. "You two didn"t...discuss it or anything? Just picked up and left Florida behind on a whim?"

A rueful snort escapes him.

"Sweetheart, we were way beyond discussion things at that point. If I ran the idea by him, he"d have argued till he was blue in the face, stubbornness outweighing good sense like always." He shakes his head again, mouth curved in a wistful half-smile. "Sometimes, you gotta bite the bullet and do what needs doin" - reasoned debate be damned."

I feel myself smiling, too, struck by the picture he"s painting. Two ornery old soldiers, too proud and set in their ways to ask for help...until one of them finally takes the reins and forces a new path forward.

"So no, we didn"t discuss a thing. I just told him to grab his pack; we"re leavin" in the morning. The man barely blinked; he just did as he was told like a good soldier." Walker paused, looking almost surprised by his own audacity. "Hell, for all I know, he might have just been relieved to have someone else callin" the shots for once."

"And that was it?" I prompt, leaning forward with my elbows on the table. "You just headed out here, no looking back?"

"That"s about the size of it, yeah." He nods, then his expression dims somewhat. "Of course, it didn"t take long for Pop"s mind to start wandering again once we got settled. Being cooped up never did suit him much, even with all these acres to roam."

Walker lets out a haggard sigh, broad shoulders seeming to sag beneath some unseen weight. When he speaks again, his deep voice is threaded through with unmistakable grief.

"Crazy old coot went out walkin" the back one mornin", never did come home. That was...what, three years ago now?"

He falters, gruff words failing him as his eyes glaze over. I feel my heart lurch in sympathy, wishing I could rewind and rewrite this entire conversation. Spare him this fresh reopening of still-healing wounds.

But Walker"s a grown man, a soldier who"s doubtlessly witnessed and endured worse kinds of pain than this. He shakes it off with visible effort, favoring me with a crooked smile that doesn"t quite reach his eyes.

"So, there you have it, doc. Now you know the whole sad saga. Just one old loser hermit out here, tryin" to figure out how to live with all these ghosts."

The rawness in Walker"s voice, the desolation writ large across his weathered features - it tugs at something deep inside me. An ache I know all too well, the ever-present specter of grief and loneliness haunting every waking moment.

Before I can think better of it, I reach across the table to cover his rugged hand with my own. He tenses at the contact but doesn"t withdraw.

"You"re not alone, Walker," I murmur, holding his gaze steadily. "Not anymore."

He stares back at me, eyes glinting with some unreadable emotion. The weighted silence stretches taut between us, almost trembling with possibilities.

Then, all at once, the spell is broken by a sudden clap of thunder - closer this time, practically rattling the windowpanes. I startle violently, snatching my hand back as if burned.

"Whew, this storm just doesn"t wanna let up, does it?" I force an overly bright chuckle, inwardly cursing my own skittishness.

Walker simply grunts an affirmative, leaning back in his chair. If he"s disappointed by my retreat, he doesn"t show it.

"Speakin" of," he says after clearing his throat. "Might be a good idea for you to shack up here tonight, the way this weather"s carrying" on. Less of a hassle than trying to navigate those dirt roads in a mud bath."

I blink at the unexpected suggestion.

"Oh, I couldn"t impose like that. I"m sure the roads will be fine by the time-"

"Wasn"t a request, doc," Walker cuts me off with a pointed look. "You"re stayin" put, end of story. I got a spare room all set up, no trouble at all."

"But-"

"No buts," he overrides my protest, tone brooking no argument. "You said it yourself—sometimes you just have to unplug, get away from it all for a bit. Consider this your chance."

I open my mouth, then close it again. Against my better judgment, I find myself slowly nodding in acquiescence. Maybe a night away from everything wouldn"t be the worst thing, Providence and the storm allowing.

"Well...alright then," I concede at length. "I suppose I could use a break for once."

Walker"s features visibly relax into something resembling a smile as the heaviness weighing our conversation dissipates, at least for now.

"That"s more like it," he rumbles in approval. "Now, how about I rustle up some grub to go with this cold tea?"

"That would be perfect. I'm starting to get hungry,"