“Right. Relaxed. That’s what we’re calling it.”
The truck turns onto the dirt road that leads to the ranch. The ruts are still deep from the storm, but Josie handles them smoothly. The suspension creaks, rocking me like a cradle.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to drop you at Pearl’s?” Josie asks as the headlights sweep across the main gate.
“No,” I say. The word feels firm, even if my tongue feels fuzzy. “I need to go home. I need to see the lights. I need to know if they actually fixed the grid.”
“Suit yourself.” Josie slows down as we approach the house. “You good to get inside? Or do you need me to walk you?”
“I am perfectly capable of walking up three steps,” I say with as much dignity as I can muster while unbuckling my seatbelt.
“Okay, Queen of the Ranch,” Josie says. “Get some sleep. And drink a gallon of water before you pass out. You’ll thank me in the morning.”
“I will,” I promise.
I climb out of the truck. The cool night air hits me, a shock to my system. It smells of pine and damp earth. It smells like home.
I close the door gently so I don’t wake Willa. Josie waits until I’m on the porch before she backs up and turns around, her taillights fading into the dark.
I stand there for a moment. The house looms in front of me. It looks different in the dark. It looks... waiting.
I inhale deeply holding it for a brief moment before rereleasing it and opening the front door.
I reach for the switch beside the door. I hold my breath.
I flip it up.
Light floods the room. Not the weak, yellow glow of the kerosene lamps, or the harsh artificial light of the generators. Real light. Overhead lights. Bright and beautiful electricity.
“Hey, there are lights,” I say to the empty room. I hiccup. A loud, undignified sound.
I walk into the living room, expecting it to be empty. Expecting the mattress to still be in the middle of the floor where I left it days ago.
It’s not.
But the room isn’t empty.
Someone is curled on the sofa.
A low fire is burning in the hearth.
Rhett is lying on his side, his back to the room. He’s wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and a faded navy T-shirt that hugs his shoulders. He looks big. He looks warm.
Wellsy, who was curled up near Rhett’s feet, lifts his head. He sees me and his tail thumps against the sofa cushions. He lets out a soft yip and jumps down, trotting over to greet me. He weaves through my legs, nearly tripping me.
“Hey, buddy,” I say, scratching his ears. I lean down to pet him, and the world tilts dangerously to the left. I have to grab the arm of the sofa to steady myself.
Rhett stirs. He rolls over, blinking sleepy eyes. When he sees me, his gaze sharpens instantly. He sits up, swinging his legs to the floor.
“Saramaria?” he asks. His voice is rough with sleep.
“What time is it?” I ask.
He glances at his watch. “It’s late. Past two.”
“Oh,” I say. “I didn’t realize.”
“You’re just getting in?”
