Tuck paused and looked around, obviously considering what to do with the bridle in his hand. “The stable door is open,” I said, pointing across the way. We walked through the corral, and into the dim stable, the last of the light illuminating the entrance, but casting the back in shadow. Tuck set the bridle down just as I spotted something taped to the wall on my left. I removed it, read quickly, and handed it to Tuck.

“It’s a list of the horse’s names next to descriptions,” he said. “‘If you take one of our horses, we beg you to please treat them well. They are loved.’” Tuck lowered the note. “They did leave, then,” he said. “Temporarily, at least.”

I briefly wondered why, but realized I didn’t have to. All over the country, people were either trying to get to safety, or attempting to make it to the people they loved. As this ranch was far away from any major metropolitan area and somewhat tucked behind some hills, the owners wouldn’t have to worry much about safety, especially if they were armed. They’d have a good view of anyone approaching from all directions, and they’d have time to prepare. Of course, it was possible they’d run out of food and been forced to head out to search for some, but I thought it was more likely that they’d left to find a family member. It made a lump form in my throat to consider the choices people had had to make, willing to leave safety behind for love.

We left the stables and walked around the front of the house. The front door was locked, but when we rounded the corner of the house and found a side door that led into an attached garage, Tuck turned the knob and pulled it open. He stood there still for a moment, his body blocking the interior. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What?” I asked, moving around him and stepping inside. I let out a giddy laugh of disbelief, turning to look at him with wide eyes before bringing my gaze back at the classic yellow car.

“It looks like there was one parked next to it,” I said, nodding to the empty spot where a canvas cover like the ones my dad had used to protect his cars had been discarded. “Whoever lives in that house had to have taken one of the cars and left.”

He moved around the yellow car and then tried the knob on a door that likely led into the house, finding it unlocked too. “Hello?” he shouted inside. Only silence returned, though he still shouted hello one more time to the same result. “Look,” he said, walking toward a pegboard on the wall where a singular key was hung. “Holy shit.” He plucked it off the board and held it up.

“Do you think it’ll work?” Had we really gotten this lucky?