Home. Part 4.

Toby couldn't move, and that was unusual for a man who'd spent his whole life doin' nothin' but that
His fifty plus years flashed through him in a second, and he knew he was done
His breath was shallow and fast, as much as training had taught him to breathe deep and slow when things had gotten tough
He was losing control

He heard the man move, and the bone dry kindle crack under the weight of his boots
His steps were deliberate and precise, as he moved in on him
Toby didn't flinch

"You gonna make me a cuppa, or we gonna stand here all day?"

Toby was alarmed, the voice was a woman's, one he'd never heard before and it made him wince
He had never trusted 'em
He'd rather take a bullet than put the billy on
Especially for a woman

Toby placed his 22 on the ground, and turned slowly, takin' her in from her feet up
She wore riding boots, and her legs were toned and muscled
She was fit and hard through her core, and her arms hung straight and direct from square shoulders
The sun shone bright through her hair, which hung in masses of tiny ringlets, and was pulled back behind a pale neck
Her face was smooth and soft, penetrated by two of the biggest blue eyes he'd ever seen, that looked straight through him
And she was young, twenty somethin'
Maybe even still a teen

And then he saw what startled him more than any of the days events
A suitcase, with a long handle and wheels

"Geesus"...
Toby had never been good with words, and that was as much as he could muster

The young woman looked sternly at him, and her delicate lips parted...

"Dad...

It's me

Jess..."