2. Forrest
TWO
Forrest
It had been almost three years since Sophie died, and it still felt like I wasn’t even close to over it.
People said it would happen slowly, then all at once. That one day I would wake up, start my day…and realize I hadn’t thought about her. Hadn’t missed her. And the ache would come back, but it would be a little easier to bear.
It wasn’t. I felt…hollow. Like coffee didn’t taste as good without talking to her over those steaming mugs. Like the bed was never as warm without her in it.
I’d taken to walking with Stetson most summer mornings, mostly because my brother Sawyer insisted that I had to get out of the cottage every so often so he wouldn’t worry.
Stetson was good company—quiet, didn’t feel compelled to fill the silence.
It was refreshing, when I’d had so many people asking if I was okay lately.
We were already deep in the woods that morning, fog drifting around the tree trunks, the dogs trotting around and smelling every interesting thing they could find.
A few months back, my cousin Wyatt and his wife Haven had found some puppies on the property—and me and Stetson had both adopted from the litter.
Stetson had taken Buck, the biggest male…
and I had little Nickel, a female. The two heelers wagged their tails, disappearing then reappearing in the morning dew.
"Seen tracks out past the east fence," Stetson said. "Big buck. Eight points at least."
"Season's not for another few months."
"Wasn't planning on shooting him." He ducked under a low branch. "Just like knowing he's there."
That was Stetson. He noticed things and filed them away and didn't make a production of it. No follow-up questions, no how are you holding up, no careful pauses where he was clearly deciding whether to bring her up.
He never brought her up.
I didn't know if he was doing it on purpose. I didn't care. It was the best thing anyone had done for me in three years.
Nickel came charging back through the underbrush, ears flat with the thrill of what she was chasing, and nearly took out my ankles. I caught her by the scruff before she could disappear again, her tongue lolling as her tail wagged like mad.
"Easy, girl,” I murmured. “You find something?”
Stetson held up a hand, and I went quiet. The forest was still around us, Buck barely visible in the fog up ahead, one paw lifted, tail stiff.
Then—
He growled.
I frowned, looking from Buck to Stetson. “What’s going on?” I whispered.
“Somethin’ out here,” Stetson said. “Or…more likely, someone.”
I would’ve snarked him about it, but Stetson wasn’t the type to fuck with me.
“Are we in danger?”
“Nah, probably just a drifter or somethin’,” Stetson murmured. Didn’t make me feel better that he swung his rifle around. “We get those folks out here sometimes, just lookin’ for a nice place to sleep.”
“So you need your gun?”
He rolled his eyes toward me. “Gotta keep my little cousin and the dogs safe,” he chided.
I huffed a laugh. “Lead the way.”
We moved toward Buck slow, Nickel pressed close to my leg for once in her life as the blind came into view through the fog.
Old one, tucked back against the big live oak on the east edge of the property.
We didn't use it much anymore — the deer had shifted their patterns since we'd thinned the cedar two summers back.
There was a small gap in the door.
I looked at Stetson. He looked at me.
“That was latched last night,” he murmured. “Just…gimme a second. I’ll—”
Before he could finish, a face appeared through the crack in the door…and then it widened, and we saw a whole person.
A woman.
A girl.
She was wearing a long, muddy blue dress that covered her from her neck to her wrists to her ankles. Handmade. Her hair was a dark, rich brown and plaited all the way to her waist. And her eyes…cornflower blue.
She looked like a princess.
She couldn't have been older than twenty, but there was nothing girlish about the way she looked at us. Steady. Measuring. Like she was running calculations we couldn't see.
That was not a child's eyes.
“Shit,” Stetson cursed. “That's one of the damn Daley girls.”
I frowned at him, just looking out of the corner of my eye, not enough to lose track of her. “You mean the cult next door?”
We’d heard things over the years, but had never been able to confirm: girls pulled out of school too young, women who never left the property.
Uncle Adam and Aunt Peg had tried to have the county sheriff go out for years, but they weren’t technically doing anything illegal.
We suspected, of course…but that was rural Texas for ya.
Stetson gave a short nod.
I looked back at her. She hadn’t moved from the doorway of the blind, one hand on the frame, watching us with those steady blue eyes.
Waiting.
“Hey,” I said, staying where I was, keeping my voice low and gentle. “You don’t have to worry. We’re not gonna hurt you.”
She didn’t move. Stetson cleared his throat.
“Dogs are friendly,” he said. “All bark, no bite. Classic farm dogs.”
She opened the door just an inch wider. Nickel wagged her tail.
“I won’t go back,” she announced.
My eyebrows went up. “Agreed. We’re not gonna make you. We want to help.”
“Why?”
“Because you slept in a hunting blind and it seems like you wouldn’t have done that if you weren’t in trouble.”
She absorbed that. Looked down at Nickel, who had been slowly walking toward the blind and now had her nose pressed to the base of the ladder, tail wagging slowly, puppy eyes trained directly on the girl.
Then she climbed down.
Nickel gave her space for just as long as it took her to hit the ground, then she was licking the girl’s hand. I realized now she was definitely older than I’d thought—early twenties, maybe, but it was hard to tell. Still…she was wearing that dress that made her look all out of place, and she was—
She was barefoot.
Bleeding.
“You’re hurt,” I blurted out.
“I’m fine,” she said. She obviously wasn’t fine.
“Don’t think she should be walking on that,” Stetson muttered. “I’m gonna go find Haven—”
“She is right here and you can speak directly to her,” the girl interjected. “And—don’t. Don’t tell anyone—”
“She’s not just anyone,” I said. “Haven’s family. She can bring the first aid kit.”
“And shoes,” Stetson added.
“I don’t think you’re helping,” I hissed.
He looked from me to the girl, who was now scratching Nickel behind the ears.
“I’ll go,” he grunted.
He whistled for Buck and headed back up the path without another word, rifle over his shoulder, the big dog falling in beside him until the fog swallowed them both.
Then…I was alone with this strange woman. And my dog. Who seemed much more like her dog right now.
“Haven," she said. "That's a woman?"
"My cousin's wife. She was a ranch hand here before they got married." I kept my voice easy. "She's good people. She's not going to ask you anything you don't want to answer."
She considered that. Her hand moved through Nickel's fur.
"And you?" she asked. "Are you going to ask me things I don't want to answer?"
"No."
She looked at me steady for a moment, measuring again, running those calculations.
"Okay," she said.
I sat down in the leaves, putting myself below her eye level, giving her the height—and the ability to run away, if she needed to. I could see her relax from the set of her shoulders, the long exhale of breath.
“We don’t have to talk,” I said. “But…you got a name?”
She bit her lip, and I only caught sight of the scar then—a long pink line from her lower lip to her chin.
“Yeah,” she said. “I’m Willa.”
“I’m Forrest,” I said. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Then…we sat. Didn’t talk.
Just waited.
And even given the circumstances…it was actually nice.