Page 30 of Rabid

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 atime.”

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 howgood 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.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Home and Not Alone

Willow stood at the threshold of her grandmother’s home, the keys trembling in her hand. Dale waited patiently beside her, his expression calm but watchful.

“It’s just a door,” she whispered to herself, drawing in a slow, steadying breath.

She inserted the key into the lock and turned it. The security screen creaked open first, followed by the heavy wooden door, revealing the cool interior. Joan’s scent lingered faintly in the air, a mix of woodsmoke, dried herbs, and something uniquely her.

Willow stepped inside.

The front room was simple but inviting, with well-worn furniture that spoke of years of use. A crocheted blanket draped over the back of the couch; its colors faded but still vibrant enough to catch the eye. Bookshelves lined one wall, crammed with a mix of paperbacks and binders labeled with meticulous handwriting.

“The solar batteries and well room are in the back, to the right,” Dale said, his voice low so as not to disrupt her moment. “There’s a box fan in there to vent the air, but you’ll want to keep the door closed. Battery fumes aren’t exactly good for you.”

Willow nodded absently, her gaze scanning every detail. She stopped at a small calendar pinned to the refrigerator.

“Your grandmother kept track of everything on that,” Dale said, stepping up beside her. “Water filter changes, oil for the generator, firewood deliveries—you name it. She even wrote down the number for the well repair guy, though I doubt she liked him much.”

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