The Untitled Story

Chapter 4

Now one thing has always been true in the town on Gunner. "Somethings wrong about that kid Tucker Brady." He was a boy of a checkered past but once he found Greg's farm, he made the change for the best.

He grew up on the West Bend side of Gunner. Part of town not too many people have on their weekend drive through list. Full of less than qualified parents, run down homes and cars, most of the parents are single parent families so the kids are on their own for most things.

West Bend Ave, the main street, had one small gas station, a small launder mat, and well, to be frank, that was it. All the main shopping was off Gunners main road. The town was small enough that you could tell who lived in the main parts of town and who was from West Bend.

Now Tucker was not always this grand man he is today. He was raised mostly by his father, Philip Brady. Philip Brady was well known to gunner, for all the wrong reasons. Locally he had been arrested for a long list of things, including child abuse, neglect, domestic violence, and most infamously, running an illegal distillery. Most residents would agree he had a hand in Tuckers mother Rita's disappearance too.

At age 15 when Philip was sentenced to 30 years for another round of charges, that left Tucker alone, to fend for himself. During a mid-week trip to town for groceries he seen Greg's sign in the window of the IGA. He took down his number and gave him a call. As hesitant as Greg was about hiring a kid, he took a chance on him.

Tucker was a tall, lean, strong boy who could easily work 15 hours in the fields and never ask to stop. Greg admired that about him. So did Aimee. She always slipped away to watch him from afar. His slim, lanky yet muscular build lifting hay bales, working on the tractors, helping to fix the barns and fences across the farm. Eventually Greg kept him on year-round, had him start training others to work during the spring to the fall during their busy times. Greg, as stern as he was had a soft spot for the young man and had fixed up one of the many barns for him to use as housing. It wasn't much, but Tucker appreciated it just as it was.

His features where light, blue eyes, and a small bridge of freckles that always span across the bridge of his nose, blonde hair, and small homemade tattoo on the webbing of his right hand. Aimee was smitten. He was a beautiful boy if she hadn't ever seen one before. He had never been in a relationship, figuring out at a young age they seemed to be too much trouble. He, like Aimee, found her presents to alure him though. Watching her from afar, wondering and waiting for the right time to introduce himself to her.

*****

4th of July weekend had approached; all the workers went home for the day just as Greg had ordered. Tucker tipped his hat and started to walk towards his house when a small voice rang through his ear.

"Hey there." It was Aimee, unable to waste another 4th of July not inviting him to the main house for dinner.

"Hi, how are you?" Tucker replied very shakily.

"I just wanted to know if you'd like to come down for supper, Dad has the grill ready, and mom made some really good sides."

Before Tucker could turn her down, she grabbed his hand and directed him with her to the house. Still flushed him holding her hand he smiled at Milly who motioned for him to take a seat. "Tucker, what can I get you to drink?" Milly didn't wait, as she poured him a cup of homemade tea. "The rest of the guests should be along soon."

As he relaxed into his seat, he took his hat down and placed on the back of the chair. Thanked Milly and Greg for dinner, "Any time boy." Greg responded. Aimee was sitting at the opposite end of the table with a huge smile, talking to other guests as they arrived at the home. Plenty of Handshakes and hugs when the local sheriff his family arrived. As Tucker sipped his tea, he couldn't help but smile and look at her, she was so beautiful, everyone knew her it seemed. Tucker knew something about her she didn't even know yet, he knew then what he still knows now. He had fallen for the farmer's daughter.