Shadows of You (Lost & Found #4)(3)

“It’s so pretty,” Cady said with a sigh.

My hands loosened on the wheel a fraction. “It is.”

Something about the blanket of white stretched out around us was incredibly peaceful. It reminded me how much I loved living here. But it was more than the beauty that surrounded us. It was the people. Even though my friends here might not know my past, they loved and supported us with everything they had.

My gaze flicked to the rearview mirror as I turned onto the road that would take us out of town. My habit of watching who might be following at any given moment had proven impossible to break.

I shifted my focus to Cady. “What do you think? Winter wonderland walk?”

She beamed. “Yes, yes, yeeeesss!”

“I don’t know. You don’t sound excited at all.”

“I’m excited!” She bounced in her seat as if to accentuate the point.

“Okay, I guess we can go.”

The typical ten-minute drive to our house at the base of the mountain took almost twenty, given how carefully I drove. I was thankful I’d gone to the supermarket yesterday because I had a feeling we might be holing up for a day or two.

The moment I pulled to a stop in front of the farmhouse, Cady was unbuckling her seat belt. “What about the goaties? And Mabel and Phineas? And—”

“I got them all in the barn before I picked you up,” I assured her.

“We gotta let Mabel out later. She loves the snow.”

I grinned as I slid out of the station wagon, my boots disappearing into the snow. One of our donkeys was crazy about fresh powder. She would zoom around her paddock like nothing you’d ever seen. But it was hard to get her back inside the barn afterward.

“Tomorrow, when the storm has stopped,” I told Cady.

She bounced on her toes. “I wonder if the ducks will like it.”

“They might.”

A customer at The Brew had told me about a mama duck with a broken wing on their property. She was worried the duck wouldn’t be able to protect herself and her babies from predators. So, I brought her to our place. Now, she was set up in the barn with a heat lamp and a play pool in one of the stalls. My hope was that the wing would heal with time, and then she’d be able to be on her own again. But until then, she and her babies had a safe place to stay.

Cady raced through the snow and up the steps, jumping from foot to foot on the front porch. “Let’s go!”

I laughed as I headed to join her, my gaze going to the tiny piece of wood I’d left jammed into the screen door. It was still there. I might not have been able to swing a fancy security system, but I’d learned ways to keep us safe.

Snagging the wood chip, I placed it on the windowsill and opened the three locks on the door. Cady was inside before I could blink. A deep woof sounded, and our dog bounded toward his best girl.

“Chauncey!” Cady giggled as the three-legged pup licked her cheek. “I missed you, too.”

“Come on, buddy,” I called, letting him out into the snow to do his business.

By the time we were back inside, Cady had donned her bright pink snow gear. I winced as I took her in. The pants were a little too short, and the jacket a bit tight. It looked like I would be doling out cash for new gear before the winter season hit us full steam. Sometimes, I could get two seasons out of Cady’s gear if I was lucky. But she’d had a growth spurt this year.

Cady shot her gloved fist into the air. “Winter wonderland walk!”

“Let’s go.” I grabbed a pair of gloves and a hat for myself, and then we headed back out. I locked the door and shoved my keys into my pocket.

Cady launched herself off the porch steps into the snow. “I’m flying!”

I hurried down the steps, caught her around the waist, and lifted her into the air. Cady’s laughter caught on the air and swam around us. This. This was what I’d fought for. I hadn’t regretted leaving our old lives behind for a second.

Cady’s giggles died away. “Mama,” she whispered.

Something about her tone had me on alert. My gaze shot in the direction Cady was looking, and I stilled.

A deer limped along our drive, headed away from the house.

“She’s hurt,” Cady whispered, tears filling her voice.

My heart clenched. That was obviously the case, and as I squinted, I could just see what looked like wire wrapped around her chest and leg. A million curses filled my mind.

“We gotta help her,” Cady begged. “It’s so cold.”

My nose stung, imagining how scared the poor deer must be. Usually, they traveled in groups, but I didn’t see any signs of other animals around. They’d probably left her behind because she couldn’t move fast enough.

A burn lit along my sternum. I knew what that felt like, to be alone and scared, not having anyone at your back.

“Come on,” I said to Cady, hustling her back up the steps.

“We gotta help her,” she argued.

“I’m going to, but I need you to wait inside.” I didn’t want Cady to scare off the doe as we approached.

To her credit, she didn’t argue, simply followed me inside. I entered the kitchen and grabbed the apple half I planned to cut up for her after-school snack. “I’m going to lock the door after me. Don’t answer for anyone. Promise?”