Page 16 of River Wild

For a moment, I felt like it was all too easy. Getting away from Neil. Finding this house.

But then I figured that I hadn’t had it easy for most of my life and especially not the last seven years, so I was owed.

I asked Marla if I could view the house today, and she said that would be no problem. I did think it’d be best to be honest, so as not to waste my time or hers, and I told her that I didn’t have references, but I could pay cash up-front, which she seemed more than happy with.

So, my appointment to meet her at the house is at one thirty. The bus was due to arrive here at one, which would give me a chance to get to the house. I pull out my phone to search for the address on Google Maps and see the time on my phone display—1:27.

Fudge knuckles.

I didn’t realize the bus was even running late.

I quickly type the address into Google Maps to see how long it’ll take me to walk there.

Fifteen minutes.

I fire off a quick text to the realtor, letting her know that I’m running a little late, and then, hooking my duffel higher on my shoulder, I start walking.

Fifteen minutes later, I’m walking down a beautiful tree-lined street. It’s so peaceful down here. The only sound is from the birds.

The map tells me the house I’m looking for is near the end of the dead-end street.

A minute later, I spot the rental sign and the house that sits just beyond that.

It’s love at first sight.

It’s an old house, and I love old houses. It’s a little weathered, like myself, but nothing a lick of paint won’t fix.

It’s single-story, which will be ideal for when the baby is here and crawling around—no stairs to worry about.

It has a front yard, and after a little gardening, which I enjoy doing, it will be great. I can imagine sitting out here in the front yard with the baby, maybe even chatting with neighbors as they pass.

I walk up the path toward the front door, and the door opens up just before I reach it.

“Miss Ford?” an attractive forty-something blonde lady greets me with a glossy-red-lipstick smile.

I see the moment her eyes catch sight of the now-black bruise on my cheek because her smile falters.

Shame curdles in my gut. I tilt my head down, letting my hair fall over my face, covering it. “Yes. But call me An—” I catch myself. “Carrie,” I say clearly, scolding myself internally.

I really need to get used to calling myself Carrie.

Her smile comes back full force. “It’s nice to meet you, Carrie.” She reaches a hand out, and we shake hands. “I’m Marla. We spoke on the phone.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Would you like to come in and have a look around?” She gestures me inside to the small hallway and closes the door behind us. “Right then, follow me, and I’ll give you the tour.”

I follow her around the house, a smile on my face the whole time. I probably look like a crazy person, but I don’t care. I’m just so happy to be here.

The house is perfect.

There’s a large master that has its own bathroom, and the second bedroom, which will be the nursery, is also a good size and is right across the hall. And the main bathroom is right next door to it. The baby’s room also looks out onto the back garden.

The house is fully furnished, which means I don’t have to worry about furniture, only a crib for the nursery. And I just need to get some bedsheets for my bed and towels for the bathroom.

I have a really good feeling about this house. It feels … safe.

It’s everything I’ve ever wanted.