Ethan had given up on the toy and was now patting Willa's cheek with an open palm. She let him. Her eyes had gone a little bright.
I looked at the fence line.
There was something private in what I'd just seen and it didn't belong to me. Whatever was behind that want—and therewas something behind it, I'd have bet the property on it—she hadn't offered it and I wasn't going to reach for it.
"You're good with him," I said. Neutral. Just a fact.
She looked up. Remembered I was there.
"I like kids," she said. Simple. Then something moved across her face and she looked back down at Ethan and the simpleness of it got complicated, just for a second, before she smoothed it out.
Haven was watching her too…and I knew she had the same questions I did.
We didn’t know what went on at that compound, but we knew it wasn’t good, wasn’t right. We knew the women didn’t get to leave the property…that they married too young, and not on the books.
I wondered if she’d left kids behind.
If she’d had to leave them for her own safety, her own sanity.
“You let me know if you ever want to babysit,” Haven said. “Forrest takes it on from time to time. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind the help.”
Haven reached for him then, and Willa handed him over without making it a thing. But her hands stayed curved for a second after he was gone. She pressed them flat against her thighs and turned back to the fence.
Dolly headbutted her knee immediately.
Haven bit back a smile. "She never does that for me."
"You have to let her win once," Willa said. "Then she respects you."
"You've known her for twenty minutes."
Willa shrugged, scratching between Dolly's ears. Dolly leaned into it with her eyes half-closed.
Haven looked at me over Willa's shoulder. Something in her face asked a question I didn't have an answer to yet. I shook my head slightly and she let it go.
"I should get this one down for his nap," she said, settling Ethan higher on her hip. "But I'm right up the hill if you need anything. Anything at all." She said it to Willa, direct and plain. "Day or night."
“Thank you,” Willa said, a tremor in her voice.
Haven nodded once. Headed back up the slope.
We watched her go. Ethan looked back over her shoulder at Willa until the yard took them.
The afternoon had settled into that specific Hill Country stillness—the heat pressing down, the cedar holding its breath, the creek a low murmur somewhere past the tree line. The goats had mostly dispersed except for Dolly, who was still stationed at Willa's elbow.
"She's not going to leave you alone," I said.
"Good." Willa looked down at her. "I could use the company."
I nodded. Didn't say anything to that.
After a minute she turned and looked out east, past the pasture fence, toward the ridge. Her face went still. Not afraid—just thinking. Running something through that filter again.
"They're not coming today," I said.
"You don't know that."
"No," I said. "But Stetson's on the fence line and Gage knows, and nobody on this property is going to let anyone take you anywhere you don't want to go." I kept my voice even. "That's not a maybe."
