Chapter 1

One

Isla

I was uncertain as I pulled up to the Harrington place, which was torn, tattered and abandoned. I parked my used, paid-off Toyota Camry. I steeled myself, and made my way toward the front door. Slowly, I picked up a green porcelain frog in the pot beside the door. Underneath it was the key, just like I’d been promised.

On the phone, I’d spoken to Willow Harrington, the owner of the property. Her voice had been rough, with the kind of croaky cough that a lifetime of smoking would give a person. She’d told me that I could Venmo her daughter the five-hundred-dollar deposit, and rent was due by the second of every month. I was grateful that she wasn’t making me pay last month’s rent as well.

Was I really going to do this? Could I live in Refuge Falls again? It’d been roughly eight years since I’d last been here. I cringed and wondered how long it would take my ex-husband to find me here. Probably not too long. He would be surprised I’d come back after my horrible past regarding my father, but my father was in jail now. Plus, there were other people in this town who I still cared about. I doubted they still cared about me, but I felt safe here.

I thought of the dead puppy I’d found on my doorstep yesterday morning. I knew it was from him. There had been lots of dead things over the past few months. Little threats from my ex. Of course, he wouldn’t admit it, but the greater threat was something that he’d always told me; if I divorced him, he would kill me. I wished I’d gotten a recording of that, but I hadn’t, and no one ever believed he would do it.

I slipped the key into the lock and turned it. The door wouldn’t open and I had to give it a push before it tumbled open. I had never been inside the Harrington place, even though I had grown up in Refuge Falls. In fact, the only reason I was here now was because I had seen the listing on Facebook Marketplace. Apparently, Willow Harrington had her daughter manage most of it.

The truth was, I felt grateful that I had found the listing last night and it hadn’t been taken. I bowed my head and prayed right there in the doorway. “Dear Lord, thank you for getting me here safely. For making it possible to have this house. For Willow Harrington and her generosity. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”

Even though the place wasn’t much, it was far away from my ex.

The whole place was decorated in sort of a cabin theme, with rustic log furniture. There were cobwebs, but when I walked into the kitchen, it looked like someone had cleaned it. I opened the refrigerator, and it was empty, but it didn’t smell too bad thanks to the fresh box of baking soda inside. When I turned on the sink, the water ran. That was good. Shelter and running water.

I moved toward the back door, stumbling as my foot caught on a piece of linoleum floor—it was curling since the glue had worn off. The sliding glass door wouldn’t open at first. I noticed a wooden bolt securing it, and when I tugged it out, the door opened. There was a screen that was difficult to move, but I managed it.

The backyard was full of weeds and old lawn furniture, looking to be in the same kind of disrepair as the front yard. The barn looked like it was about to fall over. Willow had informed me that there was nothing of note in there and I was welcome to use anything I could find. I turned and walked back inside the house. I would check out the barn later.

The truth was, I needed food. I was starving. I felt my blood sugar dipping, and it was probably because I hadn’t eaten in roughly forty-eight hours. I’d been running on adrenaline. My first point of order would be to stop by the grocery store for what I could afford. I didn’t have much after paying the five hundred dollars for a deposit.

I walked down the small hallway to check out the two bedrooms. Only one of them contained a bed, and that bedroom was connected to a small bathroom. I couldn’t help but notice that there were no blankets, not even when I checked the closets. Okay, I would have to stop at a Goodwill store and figure something out.

There was a knock at the door. I moved toward it tentatively, my heartbeat speeding up. Had my ex really followed me here? I wouldn’t put it past him. I hesitated in front of the door, realizing I hadn’t heard anyone on the gravel driveway. Though I had been out back, so I could have missed the sound of tires crunching.

I looked out the peephole, and I sagged in relief when I saw it was a woman.

She knocked again. “I’m Willow’s daughter,” she called.

I threw the door back and stared at the woman, who seemed quite a bit older than myself. I remembered that the Harrington place was a generational ranch.

The woman blew out a breath. “Oh. There you are. I saw your car out here, but I’ve been knocking for a while.” She stuck her hand out. “I’m Wendy. Wendy Miller. I’m Willow’s daughter.”

I took her hand and shook it. “Right. I’m Isla Hamilton.” Instantly, I wanted to use my maiden name, but I’d been using my ex’s last name since we married five years before. Plus, I didn’t know if it was better to use my maiden name. I didn’t really want to be associated with my parents. My mother was still in town, at least as far as I knew. My father … well, it didn’t matter where he was since his address was prison.

Wendy pulled her hand back and smiled. “You must have just arrived.”

I nodded. “Just pulled in and checking the place out.”

Wendy turned away from me and headed toward her truck. “Follow me. I have some things you might need.”

I followed, confused.

She kept talking. “I hope I’m not overstepping, but I was sent by my mother. She remembered we don’t have any linens in the house. Or blankets. I brought some.” She flung open the door to the back seat and pulled out a large cardboard box.

My heart hammered inside my chest again, and I thought about the prayers that I’d been saying the whole way here. I choked up, but I didn’t want to give my emotions away.

Wendy held the box out, and then glanced at my face. “Are you okay?”

Quickly, I collected myself. “Yes.” I took the box from her. “Thank you.”

She seemed to be evaluating me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

I turned away from her. “Yes. I’m just grateful you brought these things.”

“It’s no problem. My mom had me also bring some food. She thought you might be hungry after your drive.”

I turned back to find Wendy already hefting another large box out of the truck. “You didn’t have to do that.” Now I felt guilty and overwhelmed again by the miracles the Lord was giving me.

She shut the door and followed me. For a woman who was older than me, she seemed very capable.

I opened the door, put the box down next to me, and held the door open for Wendy.

She came through with a hop in her step. “My mother has a knack for hosting people.” She let out a light laugh. “Even though we are technically renting the place, she sort of looks at it like a responsibility to make sure you’re okay.”

I followed her into the kitchen, unsure of what to say.

She put the box down and proceeded to unload food items onto the counter. “I got you some milk and eggs and cereal and bread. My mother said to plan for some meals. I got some spaghetti and sausage, some hamburger and taco stuff …”

Maybe it was because I was starving, or because I was so alone, or because God was clearly taking care of me, but I couldn’t stop the stinging of tears in my eyes.

Wendy paused and turned to me. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

I burst out crying. “Nothing.”

Her arms wrapped around me. “There, there. It’s just a couple of meals and some basics.”

“Thank you.” That was all I was able to get out between sobs. I sucked in a long breath and tried to get it together.

“It’s okay.” She patted me on the back. “In fact, this is going to make my mom so happy. She called me about an hour ago with directions on gathering up everything. She was adamant that I needed to get out here quick. Which was funny, because I told her we didn’t know when you would arrive. But I guess she did know.”

I cried harder. “I’m sorry for falling apart.”

She gave me a little squeeze. “That’s okay. Don’t you know this place is called Refuge Falls for a reason?”

I was overcome with another wave of tears.

For a long time, she just held me. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s okay. Because you’ve got my mom on your side, and that means you have me on your side too. And we’re some tough girls.” She shrugged. “Not to mention it seems you have God on your side.”

“What?”

“Well, my mom told me that God wanted me to hurry it up … and it looks like He was right.”

I pulled back and wiped my face. “You will truly never know what these acts of kindness mean to me. I hope one day I can repay you and your mother.”

Wendy grinned at me and then shook her head. Her eyes blinked rapidly. “Actually, I think you already have. It’s great to be in the service of God. And you gave both my mother and me that opportunity.”

I didn’t know what to say.

She suddenly checked her watch. “I do have to run. I have to pick up my daughters from school.” She hesitated, then paused and turned back. “But …”

“What’s that?”

She glanced around. “If you’re up for it, while you are staying here, would you be interested in helping us out and painting the inside? I’ll take two hundred dollars off your rent per month.”

That felt like a huge deal. “Are you sure?”

She nodded and moved toward the door. “If you have time.”

“All I have is time.”

She paused with her hand on the door handle. “I’ll bring paint out tomorrow.” She snapped her fingers. “Oh, and I just heard about a job today if you need one.”

It was like she was my personal genie. “Please, tell me.”

“Police dispatcher. Hazel Friendly is retiring, and they haven’t been able to fill the position.”

I froze. I knew some stuff about this town. Even after things had ended between me and Damon Armstrong—the first love of my life—I’d stayed up to date on his family’s activities because I stalked most of them on social media. His mom had posted a few years ago about how he had become the police chief.

Wendy didn’t seem to notice. She flung open the door. “I’ll bring paint out tomorrow.”

I followed her to the door and stood there, watching her go. “Sounds good. Thank you, and see you tomorrow!”

She waved as she started the truck’s ignition and backed out. Soon I was left alone to stew in my thoughts.

Dispatcher.

Damon Armstrong.

Suddenly, Refuge Falls didn’t feel like such a refuge after all.