“We found everyone except Lance Hogg, Jeb’s son. We suspect he didn’t survive long out there. Wildlife likely took care of the body.” Hepaused, letting her absorb what happened. “We’re monitoring for rabies in the area now.”
The silence between them grew thick. Finally, he broke it, his voice soft but determined. “Willow, I want to help.”
She shook her head.
“Don’t refuse when you haven’t heard what I’m offering yet,” he said gently. “I loved your grandmother. I never told her, because she was an ornery old bird, but I loved her. And I know she loved you. I want to honor her by helping you.” Willow looked at him. “My place isn’t much; I live in a travel trailer about five miles from your grandmother’s property. I’m retiring from the sheriff’s department, so I’ll have plenty of time to do what needs doing.” Her expression didn’t change. “If Joan’s property is not kept up, it won’t be worth living in by the time you get out. My offer is this: I’ll move my trailer there and repair the damage. I’ll keep the place livable, and it won’t get ransacked.” He rushed the next part. “I’ll visit here monthly like she did, if you’ll have me as a friend.”
Willow studied him for a long, intense moment, her eyes taking him in. “Where is Max?” she asked finally.
“I have him back at my trailer. He’s your dog now, but taking care of him is part of my offer,” he said firmly. “When you get out, I’ll pick you up, move my things off the property, and leave Max with you. I’m happy to put it all in writing so it’sofficial.”
A slow nod was her only reply, but her eyes, so like Joan’s, flickered with a glimmer of hope.
Then her composure crumbled, the weight of grief finally overtaking her as she fell against him. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly as sobs wracked her body. He fought back his own tears, sharing in her loss, giving her a space to mourn, bound by a love for the ornery, fiercely brave woman they’d each lost.
Chapter Twenty-Three
New Beginnings
Seventeen months later
Dale stood outside his truck, shifting anxiously from foot to foot, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. The Arizona sun was merciless, even in early spring, and despite the air conditioning running inside the truck, he felt the heat pressing down on him. He wasn’t sure if his nerves came from anticipation or something deeper, but he suspected Willow felt the same.
Over the past months, they’d grown familiar through his visits. He hadn’t known what to expect at first. Joan’s absence had left a hollow space inboth of their lives, but slowly, cautiously, they had begun to fill it with shared stories and plans for the future. His connection to Willow had deepened as he told her about the repairs he was making to Joan’s property, each one a labor of love and grief.
At first, Willow hadn’t said much when he spoke about Joan, but she listened intently. Her attention sharpened whenever he mentioned the property—what still needed fixing, the tools he’d borrowed, the things he couldn’t quite figure out. She’d scolded him for using his own money, but he always shrugged it off. “Joan left you enough to get by,” he’d insist. “You’ll need that money. The work’s for me anyway.” It was true. Every repair gave him purpose and eased his aching heart.
Now, with her release, his projects were at an end. There’d be no more “just one more repair” to keep him lingering on the property. His focus shifted entirely to Willow’s next steps.
He scanned the building for any sign of her, his heart thudding in his chest. When she finally stepped out, dressed in jeans and a simple T-shirt, casual clothes he’d brought her a few weeks ago, he felt an immediate wave of relief.
Her eyes found his, and she smiled faintly. Her steps quickened as she approached, her arms swinging loosely at her sides. Dale stepped forward, meeting her halfway, and without a word, she reached out. He wrapped her in a firm hug, holding her tightly. She clung to him a little longer thanhe expected, and he gave her a reassuring squeeze before she pulled back. In her right hand, she held a small bundle of papers, likely release documents, and a plastic bag with her personal items.
“I brought a surprise for you,” he said, tilting his head toward the truck.
Willow’s brows furrowed in curiosity. Peering through the window, she spotted movement. In the backseat cab, two dogs scrambled to press their heads between the seats, tails wagging furiously.
Her eyes widened, and Dale chuckled as he opened the truck door. “Now, remember,” he said, addressing the dogs, “be on your best behavior, or no cookies when we get home.”
Max leapt out first, landing with a heavy thud. His head swung toward Willow, his tail stub wagging so wildly it blurred. He trotted over to her, his head lowered as he sniffed her from ankles to knees. His tail stilled for a moment, and then he whined, a long, high-pitched sound that broke into a series of whimpers as he pushed his body against her, trembling slightly.
Willow knelt, her hand hovering just above his fur. “Max,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. His reaction shifted, his sniffing growing frantic, as if he were searching for something familiar in her scent. Recognition flashed in his eyes. He’d found it. The same scent that had clung to Joan after she returned from visiting the prison.
“He knows I’m connected to my grandmother,” Willow whispered, her hand finally settling on his head. Max leaned into her touch, his whine softening into a contented grumble.
Daisy waited patiently beside Willow, casting hopeful glances up at her. When Willow turned her attention to the mother dog Dale rescued. Daisy tilted her head and stepped closer, sniffing delicately at her fingers. She was gentler than Max, but no less eager for affection.
“They’re both big babies,” Dale said with a grin. “You’ll get used to them fast. Daisy here is the momma dog I told you about. She’s my girl now, and Max is yours. Anytime you need, I’ll dog sit.”
Willow smiled faintly, her hand moving from Max to Daisy. Both dogs vied for her attention, Daisy nosing her arm while Max gave her fingers an enthusiastic lick.
“You never told me what happened to her puppies,” Willow said, looking up at him.
Dale shrugged, his grin widening. “Oh, I found them all good homes. Took a while, but we did it. Daisy wasn’t exactly thrilled with me after her vet visit, though. I had her spayed, and she’s still a bit salty about it.”
He watched as Daisy leaned her head against Willow’s thigh, her body relaxing as though sensing she’d found a kindred spirit.
Willow lowered herself to one knee, giggling as both dogs took the opportunity to lavish herwith wet, happy kisses. She didn’t seem to mind a bit.