Chapter Twenty-Four

The Calm

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W illow stood just outside Dale’s truck, staring at her grandmother’s legacy. The air was dry, carrying a faint tang of dust and sagebrush. In every direction, the landscape stretched wide and barren, dotted with scruffy shrubs and gnarled trees no taller than ten feet. Farther away, jagged rock formations jutted toward the sky, their muted tones a stark contrast to the pale, cloudless expanse above.

It wasn’t what she’d expected, it was more.

Fear and excitement had twisted together inside her for months. After spending most of her life behind bars, the idea of freedom had felt more terrifying than hopeful. Leaving prison without Joan waiting for her had only made it worse. She didn’t understand this world, but it was the world her grandmother had fought to give her.

For all its lack of color, the quiet beauty of the land settled deep in her soul.

“I’ll hitch my trailer and be out of your hair within the hour,” Dale said from behind her. His voice carried a gentleness she’d come to cherish. “I’m sure you need some time to adjust.”

He handed her a key ring with at least ten keys dangling from it.

“I’ll check in on you each day. There’s a cell phone inside, it’s yours. My number’s plugged in. I’ll call, not visit, unless you say it’s okay, so don’t worry. Joan always grumbled at me for coming uninvited.” His face reddened slightly as he added, “She’d ask what I’d do if she was walking around naked. I never caught her, though.”

Willow managed a small smile, recognizing his rambling as nervousness. In the months since her grandmother’s death, they had become friends. It felt good to have him close, even if she wasn’t sure how to say it.

“Will you show me around?” she asked, her voice steadier than she felt.

Dale’s face lit up with a grin. “Absolutely.”

Max and Daisy bounded out of the truck, sniffing the ground eagerly. Willow’s gaze lingered on Max. She’d never had a dog, let alone one so big. His sheer size was intimidating, but his presence brought a strange comfort she hadn’t expected.

Dale walked a few feet ahead, speaking over his shoulder. “I’ll start with the outside. Then we’ll head in.”

He led her to the barn, a modest structure with a sturdy rolling door. He had built it with his own two hands and his own money. “This kind of door’s easier to secure out here,” he said, holding out his hand.

It took Willow a moment to realize he was waiting for the keys. Embarrassed by her hesitation, she fumbled with the ring and handed them over. Dale didn’t react to her awkwardness, no impatience, no judgment. He simply unlocked the door and lifted it with ease, passing the keys back to her.

“With someone on the property, there’s not much theft,” he explained, “but when you leave, you’ll need to lock up tight.”

Willow followed him inside and froze at the sight of the old Ford truck parked neatly to one side. Its glossy paint gleamed in the dim light, a deep shine that seemed almost alive.

“I spent a lot of time getting her pretty,” he said. “There’re two sets of keys on the ring,” Dale went on, “She’s in fine shape. I take her out once a week to keep the battery from dying. They don’t make them like this anymore. ”

“Lucy,” Willow whispered, the name catching in her throat.

She stepped closer, her fingers brushing against the cool metal of the door. The flood of emotions was almost too much. She hadn’t cried since the day Dale gave her the news about her grandmother’s death. Prison had taught her early that tears were a weakness. Vulnerability made you a target.

Now, tears welled in her eyes. She blinked them back, swallowing hard.

“I don’t have a driver’s license,” she said quietly.

“No need to worry about that right now,” Dale replied, his tone easy and reassuring. “It’s several miles before you hit an incorporated road. You can practice on the flatland around the property. I’ll take you out the first time you’re ready, or you can figure it out on your own. Your call.”

How could she ever explain to him that he wasn’t a bother? That he was her lifeline.

“I’ll take you to get a license when you’re ready,” Dale continued. He pointed toward the back of the barn that held an overhead loft. “You could also get a horse. There’s a couple living nearby who have some nice ones.”

Willow shook her head. “Max is big enough for now,” she said, earning a wag of the rottweiler’s nubby tail.

Dale chuckled. “Fair enough. One step at a time.”

The tour continued at the greenhouse. As soon as they stepped inside, the earthy smell hit her, a clean, vibrant scent of soil and life. Every inch of space was used to grow food. Hanging vines dripped with tomatoes, and rows of vegetables stretched neatly beneath them.

Willow ran her hand along a nearby leaf, marveling at its texture. The shades of green were overwhelming, vivid and full of promise.

“This will get you through a long winter,” Dale said, his voice cutting through her thoughts. “I’ll help you keep it going until you’re comfortable on your own.”

Willow nodded, too overwhelmed to respond.

“Joan would have haunted me if I let the garden die,” Dale added with a grin. “She loved this place. Even kept bowls of water out for the mice so they wouldn’t nibble on her crops.”

Willow smiled for the first time since stepping onto the property.

“She never talked about being one of those vegan folks,” Dale continued, “but I didn’t find any meat, not even in cans, when I cleaned up. She had a thing for all animals, big or small.”

“Thank you,” Willow said, though the words felt inadequate.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Dale replied, his tone light. “You’ll pay me back in food. I never knew how good homegrown vegetables could taste. Never imagined I’d take up gardening, but here I am. I should build myself a greenhouse one of these days.”

Willow watched as he moved toward the exit. For the first time, she felt a small flicker of belonging.

“Ready for the next leg of the tour?” Dale asked, holding the door open for her.

She nodded, glancing around one last time before stepping outside.