Page 9 of Beneath the Desert Bloom
But her gut told her it wasn’t.
CHAPTER 3
THE WIND KICKED up just before dawn, scraping the house with fine grains of sand. The sound hissed against the windows, and the Joshua trees rattled. Somewhere in the distance, a coyote yipped once and then fell silent, like it had second thoughts about making noise.
Nora had drifted back to sleep at some point, but the wind pulled her out of it. She didn’t move right away. She just lay there, feeling her body vibrating like a tuning fork. It felt like part of her had been asleep for a long time and was just now stretching awake.
She pushed herself upright, slipping into her robe and padding to the kitchen, on a mission to make some coffee. She opened the cupboard and dug around. With a sinking feeling, she realized she hadn’t bought any at the market yesterday.
Great job shopping, Nora. You forgot the only thing that actually matters.
She settled for a glass of water, straight from the pipe. It was warm and tasted of metal. She leaned against the sink, tugging the blinds open to let in the first light. The Joshua trees outside looked different. They seemed to be leaning toward the house. She swore they hadn’t looked like that yesterday.
“Guess I’ll have to go see Gloria for my caffeine fix,” she muttered, putting on jeans and a faded T-shirt. She pulled on her boots, grabbed her keys, and slid on her sunglasses.
When she stepped out onto the porch, something stopped her cold.
Footprints… Massive footprints.
They were pressed into the dust, right by the open window. Her heart pounded in her throat. She looked around, scanning the yard. Nothing moved except a few lazy bugs drifting through the heat.
Nora took a slow breath, locked the door tight behind her, and walked to the car. She pulled her shoulders back as she climbed in, like she could shake off the feeling of being watched.
She drove fast down the empty road, lost in thoughts about what she had seen, and if, just maybe, she were going crazy.
You’re just seeing things. And hearing things. And feeling things. That’s all. Nothing is weird at all. Totally. Normal.
The diner felt too bright after the shadows of the house. Nora squinted against the morning glare as she parked in the same spot under the tattered shade tarp. The sun was already baking the pavement, making the air shimmer.She dragged herself out of the car and trudged toward the diner.
Before she even reached the door, Gloria was waiting with a to-go cup in one hand and the kind of expression that said she’d already seen whatever Nora was about to say.
“You look like you saw the ghost of your past and he tried to crawl back in with you,” Gloria said, one brow lifted.
Nora gave a tight smile, eyes still adjusting. “You always this poetic before eight a.m.?”
Gloria handed her the coffee. “Only when the desert starts talking.”
They sat outside under the sagging sunshade. The metal patio chairs creaked. The table was tacky with heat. Gloria lit a cigarette. The smoke curled upward in lazy spirals as she tapped her long pink nail against it, the ashes scattering in the wind.
Nora sat without speaking, sipping her coffee. She wanted to ask Gloria about what she was experiencing, to get reassurance that she wasn’t crazy. But she didn’t know where to start.Luckily, she didn’t have to. Gloria exhaled smoke and began speaking like she’d been waiting for the question.
“Your granddad used to talk about him,” she said, her voice low and dry. “Said he was something sacred that got twisted. Something made to protect, and then forgotten.”
Nora stared into her coffee, the surface trembling slightly in her grip. “Like a guardian?”
Gloria shrugged, her eyes fixed on the cracked sidewalk like it might answer for her. “People think the desert’s empty. Go far enough and it’s just you and the sky, right? But it doesn’t empty out. It gets denser. The more you stare into it, the more it stares back.”
Nora swallowed, her mouth dry. “I heard something last night. And this morning… there were footprints. Big ones. Right on my porch.”
Gloria’s expression didn’t change, but her fingers tightened around the cup.
“He knows you’re here,” she said.
The reply jumped from Nora’s mouth before her brain could rein it in. “I don’t think he wants to hurt me.”
Gloria looked at her, really looked, her eyes sharp, taking in more than Nora was saying.
“That’s not always the comfort you think it is, honey.”
