Chapter Thirty-One

Fear the Bitch

T wo months went by with no sign of the peeping Tom, as Dale now called him. Willow began to feel safe again. She hiked the property with the dogs and the shotgun when Dale was too busy to come with her. She still felt uncomfortable about the shotgun being a felony for her to carry, but safety overrode her fear. She watched for tracks and occasionally found some cowboy boot prints. They didn’t bother her, and none of those prints came close to the house. She ran into cows from time to time and saw a golden eagle, which made her long for a camera. The shot she took with her phone wasn’t as good as her grandmother’s photography .

She learned small lessons by making mistakes. If the front door was left open, mice made their home inside. She hated the idea of killing them, but Dale told her that hantavirus was a big deal in the high desert and once they came into the house, they had to be eliminated. He ordered zap traps after telling her the glue ones were inhumane. They couldn’t use poison because of the dogs. After killing the first one, she learned to keep the door shut.

Louisa and Roger, the couple with the horses, rode over one day to introduce themselves. They were in their sixties. Louisa had dark skin, brown hair, some of the whitest teeth Willow had ever seen, and a smile that never stopped. Roger, more serious, had short gray hair and a large belly, which Louisa said came from her cooking. Louisa invited Willow to come have coffee and see their hay bale home when she had extra time.

Willow was nervous meeting them at first, but her anxiety melted away quickly. Dale called them good people, and with everything he’d said about others on the ranch, Louisa and Roger were the best neighbors to have.

They’d ridden the horses and introduced them to Willow. She fell in love. She had no plans to buy one, but Louisa said she should help Dale care for them when they were out of town. He’d offered when Louisa and Roger first arrived, and she called him her godsend .

Willow planned to visit them after harvest season. Gardening had become her favorite pastime. Her grandmother had logged everything, which made understanding soil, humidity, and composting easier. She had also stored seed packets with instructions. Eating what she grew was a huge reward for Willow.

She was also learning to cook. Dale told her everything was delicious, but she learned to recognize when he was being kind. They laughed about it, and she went back to the drawing board to try again.

He left early one morning to drive to the city for supplies. It was the first time Willow was alone at the house. She decided to take Max and Daisy for a hike. She walked through the wash to the other side and headed in a direction she took on a regular basis. The dogs ran ahead, weaving in and out of the undergrowth while playing.

Willow decided to take a break on a large boulder and had just sat down for water when she heard a clang and a sharp cry from Daisy. They were about twenty yards away, though she couldn’t see them until she was closer.

A metal-jawed trap held Daisy’s paw. Max paced around her, stopped, sniffed his friend’s foot, and growled. Willow panicked. She had no idea what to do. She tried her cell phone, but there was no signal. Her heart pounded and her vision narrowed until black edges crept in. Max’s sudden bark snapped her out of it. He stood facing her, as if he knew she needed help. After several slow, even breaths the world came back into focus. She had to save Daisy.

Whoever did this, staked the trap into the ground. She had no idea what they used to hold it in place, but it wouldn’t budge. Daisy whined pathetically and Willow wanted to cry at her inability to help. She thought of her grandmother’s capacity to adapt. A steady calm came over her. She was Joan’s granddaughter. Giving up was not an option and allowing Daisy to suffer wasn’t either.

Daisy’s large eyes looked into hers with trust and absolute knowledge that Willow would help.

“I’ll get you out, my beautiful girl,” she promised.

She examined the trap, while Daisy and Max waited calmly. There were levers on the sides, and if she were understanding how it worked, she needed to push down on both levers. She pressed one, but like the anchor, it didn’t budge. Looking around, she saw a rock and grabbed it. Using her boot on one lever and the rock on the other, she tried again. They gave a little. With a burst of adrenaline, she put as much force as she could into it. The jaws opened, and Daisy pulled free.

Blood covered Willow’s hands, and for a moment, she had a flashback to killing her father. Max licked her face, and once more, she was able to snap out of it .

“Can you walk, girl?” Willow asked softly as she rubbed her head.

Daisy let out a pathetic whine and licked her hand, taking some of the blood with it. Willow gave her a few minutes and used the time to look around. Her heart nearly stopped when she noticed a print in the dirt. It was the peeping Tom.

“Don’t panic,” she said aloud. “You have the shotgun, and Max has four good legs.” She searched the area and didn’t find another trap or more prints.

When she felt Daisy was ready, she walked ahead to see if she would follow. Limping and mostly using three legs, Daisy managed the hike back to the house with help from Willow on the steeper inclines.

When they came over the last ridge, Willow saw the barn.

BITCH was painted in large red letters, covering one entire side.

She quickly got the dogs inside the house, locked the security screens, and bolted the heavy wooden doors in front and back. Her hands shook as she called Dale.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asked. “You miss this old man already?”

The words spilled out, and she wasn’t even sure if she was coherent.

“Stay put,” he said. “Call Louisa and Roger. Don’t open the door until you hear their voices. I’m turning around, but it will be at least an hour before I get back. If that asshole puts his face to a window, shoot him. We’ll deal with the consequences later. Do you understand?” he demanded.

She’d never heard him this angry.

“I will, I promise.”

“Drink some water and give some to the dogs. Use the first aid kit Joan put together and do the best you can. The fact Daisy walked out is a good sign. The traps aren’t meant to snap legs, but sometimes they do. Most of all, stay safe. Call Louisa and Roger right now.”

“I will. Don’t kill yourself getting here.”

“I won’t, but don’t hold me to not killing that son of a bitch when I find him.”

Louisa didn’t answer when Willow called, so she left a message, trying to sound calmer than she felt. Daisy allowed her to clean the wounds and wrap her leg. Afterward, she lay quietly, her pathetic eyes following Willow. Her sadness broke Willow’s heart. Dale had told her about the abuse Daisy suffered at the hands of the Hoggs. She had the scars that proved it, and she also shied if you moved too quickly around her.

For the first time since she’d killed her father, Willow wanted to hurt someone.