Epilogue #2
She tried not to, because falling in love with a house before the inspection was probably how people ended up with bad plumbing and regret. But the street was quiet, the shop was close enough to walk to, and the backyard fence rose high and solid behind the house.
Blue saw the fence and made a sound of deep spiritual recognition.
Roni led them up the walkway, beaming with pride at unlocking her first official showing. “Prepare yourselves. There is wallpaper.”
“How much wallpaper?” Reid asked.
“Depends on your definition of much.” She forced a bright smile. “But it’s vintage.”
Inside, the house smelled faintly of dust, old wood, and too many days without a good airing out. The living room had scuffed hardwood floors, built-in shelves on either side of a brick fireplace, and wallpaper that was floral, though less criminal than Reid’s face suggested.
The kitchen needed new cabinets, new counters, and probably new everything else, but it had space.
Real space. A window over the sink looked out into the backyard, and Holly could already imagine herbs on the sill, Blue sprawled in a patch of sunlight, Reid leaning against the counter pretending not to steal muffins.
Roni walked them through the house with professional enthusiasm and only three moments of sisterly interference. Linc inspected doorframes, grunted at the bathroom tile, and declared the staircase to the small finished attic “not actively hostile.”
Reid checked outlets, windows, water pressure, and the basement with a flashlight he’d produced from his pocket. Former Navy JAG, current SPS security specialist, and apparently part-time house inspector. Holly made a mental note to be annoyed by how attractive she found that.
The place needed work. A lot of work. The porch railing would have to be repaired, the kitchen updated, the back gate reinforced, and one upstairs room had carpet that might have been installed during an era older than Linc.
Reid started a list that grew as they moved from room to room, but he didn’t look discouraged. He looked like a man measuring what he could build.
Not the fireplace or the kitchen window or even the yard.
Reid stood in the doorway between the kitchen and back hall, talking to Roni about load-bearing walls and contractor timelines, and Holly saw the truth of the last month settle around him.
He wasn’t visiting her life anymore. He wasn’t sleeping on a couch until the danger passed or filling in behind the counter because of an investigation.
He was here, looking at a house that needed work, and he was already planning where to start.
Blue whined at the back door, done with human nonsense.
“I’m taking him out,” Holly said.
Reid glanced over. “I’ll come with you.”
She took Blue through the back door and onto a small deck that had definitely seen better decades.
Two steps led down into the yard, and the second one wobbled under her foot.
The backyard was larger than she’d expected, shaded by a maple near the back fence, and with enough open grass for Blue to run proper laps.
The fence needed a new latch but stood solid on all sides.
A neglected garden bed ran along the left edge, full of weeds and possibility.
Holly unclipped Blue’s leash. He launched across the yard like joy had been waiting there just for him.
He ran the fence line, circled the maple, doubled back to her, and spun in a tight, ridiculous circle before taking off again.
Holly laughed, the sound catching her by surprise.
It had been getting easier to laugh lately.
Easier to wake up without dread pressing against her ribs and to stand in Sanctuary before opening and feel the shop as hers again.
Allen had turned her safe place into a hunting ground, but he’d failed to ruin it. Not because she’d been untouched by his actions, but because the people who loved her had helped her reclaim it piece by piece.
Blue barreled toward the back fence and skidded to a stop near the garden bed, nose down, tail high.
“Don’t eat anything suspicious,” she called.
“He’s evaluating the soil.”
Holly turned as Reid stepped onto the deck. He’d rolled up his sleeves, and there was dust on one shoulder from whatever basement exploration he’d undertaken. He looked at the yard, then at Blue, then at the wobbling step beneath his boot.
“This deck needs work.”
“Fence latch too.”
He hummed. “The kitchen cabinets might be older than Granddad.”
“Don’t let him hear you say that.”
“The upstairs carpet needs to be removed with caution, and the wallpaper may require a torch.”
“It’s not that bad.”
He stood beside her in the grass. Blue raced past them, close enough that Holly felt the breeze. Reid watched him go, and the list of repairs seemed to quiet in his head.
“The yard is good,” he said.
“It’s perfect.”
“For Blue.”
“For Blue,” she agreed, then looked at the kitchen window, the back door, the maple tree, and the crooked deck that already seemed to be offering Reid a challenge. “Maybe for us, too.”
Reid’s hand found hers, lacing their fingers together the way he had in the hospital, the way he had in the weeks since whenever the world felt like it might tilt again.
“I can fix the deck,” he said. “And the railing. The kitchen may require a professional, but I can do some of it.”
“I’m not afraid of work.”
His thumb moved once over hers. “I know you aren’t. I’m not either.”
She looked up at him, and there was no old ache waiting to ambush her.
Some things left marks, yes, but the bruise of what he’d done years ago no longer decided what she could trust now.
Reid had come back, and when it mattered, he’d stayed.
More than that, he kept choosing to stay in all the small, ordinary ways that built a life stronger than any single promise.
“Did you talk to Garrett about Hopper?” she asked.
“Yes. His interview’s tomorrow, and Vivi will be in it, too.
Garrett wants her read on him.” Reid watched Blue drop into a play bow at a squirrel on the other side of the fence.
“He’s a former Marine. Explosives and some reconnaissance training too.
Quiet, observant, good under pressure, and knows what it’s like to be judged by the worst day of his life.
SPS can use someone like that if he’s ready. ”
“Is he?”
“I don’t know. He’s trying.” Reid glanced toward the house, where Roni’s voice drifted faintly through an open window. “He asked about Roni’s real estate work.”
Holly’s eyebrows rose. “Did he?”
“Said he might need help deciding what to do with Emma’s place. He’s still hanging onto it after all this time.”
“Oh.” Holly let that settle, seeing the thread as clearly as if someone had drawn it across the yard. Roni with her new lockbox app and big heart. Hopper with his quiet grief and a house full of ghosts. “She’ll know what to do. She’ll be good for him.”
Reid’s mouth curved. “You think my sister is going to be good for him?”
“I think your sister is going to sweep him off his size twelves and possibly put his explosives training to the test.”
They both laughed. The back door opened and Roni stepped onto the deck with Linc behind her. “Good news. The house has not collapsed, the attic has potential, and Granddad has issued only four negative rulings.”
“Five,” Linc said. “I object to the downstairs bathroom mirror.”
Roni came down the steps, tablet in hand, her realtor confidence bright enough to cover the nerves beneath it. “So. What do you think?”
Holly looked at Reid. He looked back. Behind them, the house waited with crooked cabinets, scuffed floors, questionable wallpaper, and enough work to keep Reid busy for months.
In front of them, Blue rolled on his back, jumped up, and tore across the grass, summer sunlight flashing over his speckled coat, running as if this yard had always been waiting for him.
Home had never been only walls. Holly knew that now. Sanctuary had taught her, Reid had reminded her, and Blue made the final ruling by attempting to herd a butterfly near the maple tree.
She slipped her hand more securely into Reid’s and smiled at Roni. “I think we’re home.”