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Home to You

Page 67

by Taylor Hart

Even though the place wasn't much, it was far away from my ex. At least for now.

The whole place was sort of a cabin type of theme. The furniture was in rustic, log wood furniture. There were cobwebs, but when I walked into the kitchen, it looked like someone had cleaned it.

I opened up the refrigerator and it didn't smell too bad. There was a fresh box of baking soda inside.

I turned to the sink. The water ran. That was good. Shelter and running water.

I moved toward the back door, stumbling as my foot caught on a piece of linoleum floor that the glue had come up.

The back door was a sliding glass back door and it wouldn't open it first. I noted some type of wood thing in the side of it and I popped it up. I unlocked the door and it opened. There was a screen that was difficult to move but I moved it.

The backyard was full of weeds and old lawn furniture that looked in the kind of disrepair that the front looked like.

I noted the barn looked like it was about to fall over. Willow had informed me that there was nothing of note in the barn and I was welcome to use anything I could find.

I turned walked back inside the house. I would check out the barn later.

The truth was, I needed food. I was starving. I felt my blood sugar dipping and it was probably because I hadn't eaten in roughly 48 hours. I'd been running on adrenaline.

My first point of order would be to stop by the grocery store for what I could afford. There wasn't much after giving away that $500 for deposit.

I walked down the small hallway to one of the two bedrooms and noted there was only one bed in one of the rooms. But this bedroom was hooked onto a small bathroom.

I couldn't help notice that there were no blankets. I looked in the closets and couldn't find any blankets either.

I walked down the hallway and opened up another closet and there was nothing.

Okay, I would have to stop at a Goodwill store and figure something out.

There was a knock at the door.

I moved toward the door, tentative. My heartbeat quickly. Had my ex really followed me here? I wouldn't put it past him.

I hesitated in front of the front door, noting I hadn't heard anyone on the gravel driveway. But I had been out back. I looked out the peephole and saw a woman.

She knocked again. "I'm Willow’s daughter.”

I threw the door back and stared into a woman who seemed quite a bit older than myself. I remembered that the Harrington place was a generational ranch. Or had been.

The woman blew out a breath. "Oh. There you are. I saw your car out here, but I've been knocking for a while." She stuck her hand out. "I'm Wendy. Wendy Miller. I'm Willow's daughter."

I took her hand and shook it. "Right. I'm Isla Hamilton." Instantly, I wanted to use my maiden name, but I'd been using my exes last name since we married five years before. Plus, I didn't know if it was better to use my maiden name. I didn't really want to be associated with my parents. And my mother was still in town, at least I thought she would be. My father, well, it didn't matter when your address was prison.

She pulled her hand back and smiled. "You must have just arrived."

I nodded. "Just pulled in and I was checking the place out."

Wendy turned away from me and headed toward her truck. "Follow me. I have some things you might need."

I followed, confused.

She kept talking. "I hope I'm not overstepping, but I was sent by my mother. She remembered we don't have any linens in the house. No blankets. So I brought some."

She flung open the back seat of a truck and pulled out a large cardboard box.

Once again, my heart hammered inside my chest and I thought about the prayers that I been praying the whole wayhere and recently. I choked up, but I didn't want to give myself away.

Wendy held the box out, and then glanced at my face. "Are you okay?"