After a moment, the truck eased forward again. She tried not to freak out at the way it bumped and crashed on the wooden boards. Surely, this guy wouldn’t drive on it if it wouldn’t hold. But she still clung to the door, white-knuckled, until they were out on the other side.
“Okay,” he said, his deep voice taking that calming tone again, like she was a wild animal he was trying to tame. “Almost home.”
Home. Now that was a fairytale of an idea.
Not a fairytale,she reminded herself.One day, I’ll make it happen.
It was just that it seemed like for everyone else in the world, having a safe place to live and people to love came easily. Dulcie had spent her whole life fighting tooth and nail for it, and all her efforts seemed to amount to nothing.
The truck was turning again, the thick woods giving way to moonlit fields beyond a split-rail fence. The headlights briefly illuminated a wooden sign that saidLawrence Dairy Farmbefore the tires bumped onto a gravel drive between tall trees.
“You have cows?” she asked, smiling at the idea. Maybe she was sort of right about him being a cowboy.
“We do,” he said, nodding. “Most of my family works the farm.”
“You guys sell milk?” she guessed.
“Mainly ice cream,” he told her. “But yes, milk too, and cheese.”
“Wow,” she said, nodding. “Am I going to be making ice cream, or working in a doctor’s office?”
“I’m not sure,” he said, the hint of a smile tugging up the corner of his mouth. “But there’s always plenty to do here, so we’ll put you right to work as soon as you’re feeling better.”
“Oh, I feel fine,” she told him firmly. The sooner she got to work the sooner she could be earning money.
“Well, you’re not working tonight,” he told her. “Doctors and farmers are early birds. We like to get to sleep early.”
She nodded. That made sense. Though she sure hoped he wouldn’t be against a little snack before bed. The apple juice had been heavenly, but shecould feel the sugar rush evaporating, leaving a dull ache of hunger in its wake.
Don’t be greedy, Dulcie.
She knew she should just be grateful for a safe place to sleep, if it really was one. She could eat in the morning. It wouldn’t be her first day without a meal.
“Oh, wow,” she murmured as the view suddenly changed, and she forgot all about her empty belly.
They had just passed a predictable red barn, but now that they were coming up the hill, she could see that there were houses here as well.
A stone farmhouse that looked like the three bears’ house in the Goldilocks story stood at the center. It was hung with Christmas lights and even had a big plastic snowman standing by the front walk.
On the left, against the wooded hillside was a green Victorian. And to the right, more old houses were set at intervals against the foot of the mountain.
“Our family has been on this land since the 1800s,” West said, turning right at the stone cottage. “It used to be common for grown children to stay and work the family farm, so there are residences here too.”
“It sounds like most of you guys still do work on the farm,” she pointed out.
“True,” he said, nodding.
But she didn’t hear what he said next as the drive curved to reveal a beautiful red Victorian with a wraparound porch. Evergreen boughs strung with lights hung from the roof, and a warm glow came from the front windows, spilling out onto the snowy lawn.
She could see even from the truck that it wasn’tperfect. The paint on the columns was lumpy from repainting, and the wooden porch swing had been weathered gray by harsh winters. She was pretty sure the steps up to the front door would squeak and the walls inside would be covered in old-fashioned paper.
But it was the exact image ofhomeshe had always pictured, imperfections and all. She could just imagine the fireplace inside and the cat curled up by the kitchen stove. It would be heaven to live in a place like this.
“Here we go,” West said, pulling up to it. “We’ll just get you settled, and you can get some rest.”
She stayed where she was for just a moment, trying to memorize this feeling. She would be calling up the image of this house in her mind for a long time. By the time she got her seatbelt off, West was opening her door for her, the duffel slung over his shoulder.
“You okay?” he asked.