Chapter Twenty-Seven

Fear’s Edge

“A re you okay?” Dale asked when he saw her running toward the trailer.

She had to look like a crazy person. Her heart pounded, and her hands trembled uncontrollably.

“There’s a big gun in my grandmother’s closet,” she said frantically. “It can’t be in the house.” She tried to catch her breath. “I can’t go back to prison. Please take it out of there, and you can have it.”

“Whoa,” he said gently, his face showing concern. “I forgot to tell you about the shotgun. That one is mine. I have Joan’s inside the trailer.”

He placed his hand on her shoulder .

“I was a deputy, remember?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “You can’t live out here without protection. There are rattlesnakes and mountain lions. Max and Daisy are snake-trained, and we don’t see many rattlers, but they’re here. I find mountain lion tracks all the time. This is your property, all eighty acres of it. No one will report you, and the deputies never come out this far unless they’re called and even then, it’s hit and miss if they’ll show.”

Her pulse still raced, her mind flashing to nights locked in a cell, the constant presence of fear and control. The idea of that gun, its potential to send her back to hell, paralyzed her. She barely understood what Dale said because she could only focus on the gun.

“Hey,” he said when she didn’t reply. “It’s okay. I understand how you feel, and it’s the reason I exchanged shotguns. Mine is registered under my name. Ballistics tests will come back to my gun. If you ever need to shoot it, it will be for a good reason. I’ll take full responsibility, and I’ll clear out the guns before a deputy arrives.”

“Guns?” she asked as her mind slowly escaped panic mode.

“I put one of my handguns in the cellar, which I’ll show you today. There’s also one in a cabinet inside.”

“I don’t want them,” Willow said stubbornly and took a step away from him .

“Okay, I get that.” He looked contrite. “Think about it during our hike. If you still feel the same, I’ll remove them after we return.”

She exhaled shakily, her mind easing out of its spiraling fear. The idea of returning to prison still terrified her. She would rather die. A bit of what Dale said started to sink in.

“Okay,” she said reluctantly.

“Do you need me to find the boots?”

She was acting like an idiot, and he was so calm.

“No, I’ll grab them as long as they’re not near the shotgun.”

“They shouldn’t be.”

She walked back inside, ignored the shotgun, and found the boots. She had only the socks she’d worn the day before and put them back on. She’d gone outside in her rubber prison shower shoes, and she wanted to throw them away.

The boots fit after she tightened the laces a bit.

Max and Daisy were excited when she came outside again. Maybe they were before, but she was in such a panic she hadn’t noticed.

“They know it’s time for their hike,” he said and whistled at the two dogs.

They turned, looked at him, then took off toward the ridge about thirty yards from the back of the house.

“If we don’t follow, they’ll find trouble. ”

The ridge dropped into a steep decline. A large valley rested below. It was where her grandmother wanted to plant wildflowers.

“Watch where you’re going,” Dale warned. “It’s easy to twist an ankle. That’s not a problem with the two of us, but you’ll be hiking here alone before you know it. Joan checked the property lines about once a month. You don’t want squatters. The dogs will be waiting in the wash, so we can go slow and steady. They like to run in the sand.”

“Got it,” she replied and watched her feet more closely as she walked.

“Hold up,” Dale called out a minute later.

She stopped and turned in his direction. He was on one knee, looking at something on the ground.

He held up a hand, so she didn’t move closer.

“This is the same track I found before. I don’t like that someone came up this ridge so close to the house.”

“Can I see the print?” Willow asked, her curiosity overtaking her nerves.

“Circle around behind me.”

She did as instructed and walked around until she peered over his shoulder.

“Look at the tread,” he said, pointing at the print. “This is mine. This print is bigger than mine and much larger than yours. The cattle guys in this area wear cowboy boots. The heel makes their tread distinctive. What we’re looking at is most likely athletic shoes. They’re well-worn. See here, where a toe sticks out.” He glanced around again, his gaze intense. “Stay behind me, and let’s see how far we can track it.”

The silence stretched as she followed him. Her stomach knotted. Was someone out here watching?

“Well, damn,” he said about halfway to the wash. “He’s good, and I’m not a professional tracker. The prints disappear here.”

Dale seemed concerned, but for her, it was fascinating to watch him work. There was something reassuring about his measured way of studying the ground, like he knew how to handle whatever might come.

He turned and looked at her.

“Be sure to take Max with you if you walk the roads or hike out here. People come up and down the wash. They sometimes get lost, but the best way to get shot is to walk up behind someone’s home. The people out here don’t take kindly to strangers. If you accidentally find yourself on someone’s property, tell them you’re Joan’s granddaughter, you’re lost, and you’re staying at her place. Most will help you if you have a right to be here.”

The dogs came running, panting and excited. Max sniffed the ground where the last track was found and then ran back toward the wash with Daisy following .

“Is he tracking the smell?” Willow asked.

Dale smiled and shook his head.

“He’s never been trained, and neither has Daisy. I’ve seen them chasing rabbits, and while they’re attacking a shrub, the rabbit hightails it in the other direction. They don’t figure it out most of the time and destroy the bush before they give up. Right now, they’re impatient for us to join them.”

They made it to the wash. Willow bent down and picked up a handful of sand with a questioning look.

“Millions of years ago,” Dale said, “this wasn’t land at all. You’ll find seashells and sometimes shell fossils buried in the rocks. Joan collected them along with various stones and petrified wood. We have jasper, quartz, and a bunch of others. Joan has a few books on them. The area out the back door holds an assortment of what she found. She also searched the anthills for anthill garnets. She showed me a few of them. Small but pretty. They’re most likely in the house somewhere.”

Willow turned the sand over in her hand. The idea that something so small and overlooked could hold such beauty stirred something in her.

“About the shotgun,” Dale said. “I know it worries you, but you need something in the house. I’ll need to hitch up today and go back to my property.”

“Do you have a lot of work to do there?”

“Goodness, no. It’s a barren piece of land that fit my budget. Not a lot I can do with it. I thought I would eventually build a house, but I’m getting old and don’t mind the trailer.”

“Move here permanently,” Willow said, trying to keep fear out of her voice. She didn’t like showing she was afraid of anything.

He looked at her and smiled.

“You’re young. Eventually, you’ll meet some people in town and make friends. You don’t need an old man like me hanging around.”

“I’ll pay you,” she said desperately.

“None of that. What’s really bothering you?” he asked gently.

Her gaze roamed the area.

“It’s too big and wide open,” she said when she met his eyes again. Dammit, she just needed to admit it. “I’ve never been alone, and I’ve never made friends. You can live here forever, and I won’t get tired of you being here. I’ll even keep the shotgun in the closet.”

He looked at her for a long time, and she thought he would refuse.

“I reckon I can stay. It’s possible Daisy would go into a deep state of depression without Max, so I’ll do it for her.”

“The same would happen to Max,” she said in relief. “We don’t want that.”

Dale stayed, and Willow’s new life began.