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Authors: Patricia Rosemoor

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BOOK: Born To Be Wild
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“Poppi is going to kill you!” Reyna whispered when she caught Isabel trying to leave through a side door in the dead of night.

“Not if he doesn’t find out.” Isabel had been seeing Micah for months now without Poppi’s knowledge, though never this late at night before. Keeping her voice down, she said, “You’re not going to tell him, are you?”

“No…but how could you do this?” Reyna demanded. “Sneak around to meet the enemy?”

Thinking of the way Micah made her blood soar, Isabel said, “Micah Wild isn’t my enemy. Is he yours?”

“Well, no, not Micah.”

“Okay, then. This stupid feud our family has had with the Wilds has gone on long enough.” Isabel whispered. She was anxious to leave but not until she was sure her sister wouldn’t squeal on her. “Someone has to end it. Or several someones.” She gave Reyna an intent look. “Like you, me, and Cruz.”

“What makes you think I would want to?”

“You just said Micah isn’t your enemy.”

“No, not him, but his brother, Seth, is another story.”

“What have you got against Seth?”

Reyna’s expression tightened. “Plenty, believe me. His ego is so big he could share it with a couple other guys.”

Seeing the glint in her sister’s gaze, Isabel wondered about Reyna’s true feelings for the boy. Reyna had just turned fifteen and was a little hotheaded. She and Seth were in the same class, and Isabel suspected part of the problem was that not only were they both competitive, they were also equally matched.

“So you’ll keep my secret?” she asked.

Reyna responded by hugging her. “Be careful,
mi hermana
.”

Isabel was always careful. At least not to get caught. The very idea of sneaking out to meet Micah late at night shot chills through her body. And heat. The extremes alternated with her thoughts.

Creeping out into the barn, checking to make sure no one was around to see, Isabel grabbed a bridle, then entered the corral, where she gave a low whistle. Crank came trotting over to her. She quickly settled the leathers and bit in place, then led him to the gate. Once on the other side, she tangled a hand in his mane and stepped onto a log stump for a leg up to his bare back. They moved as one, Crank following her silent directions.

Ten minutes later, she was in the stand of pines at the top of Suicide Hill where she’d agreed to meet Micah. She whistled softly and then listened. His answering whistle shot through her, making her feel all wonky inside. Anxious to see Micah alone, she turned Crank in the right direction, moved forward, and whistled again. Though Micah responded, he didn’t need to. She could see the flames coming from the clearing ahead.

“There you are.” He came to meet her, took Crank’s reins and held the horse as she jumped off. Then he took her in his arms. “I missed you.”

“Me, too.”

He kissed her, a light brush of lips against lips, the soft touch thrilling her to her toes. She looked beyond him to the bedroll spread out before the fire.

Would tonight be the night, then?

Her heart nearly pounded out of her chest.

Poppi really might kill Micah if he ever found out.

“C’mon, let’s go sit by the fire.”

She let him lead her there, let him pull her down next to him. He put an arm around her and tilted his head against hers.

He picked up a long stick and poked at the fire so the flames intensified.

“Nice, huh?”

“Very nice,” she said.

“I’ve always wanted to do this. Just sit in front of a fire at night with someone I cared about and talk.”

Her throat was tight when she whispered, “Just talk?”

His grin softened the strong planes of his face. Between the silver moonlight and golden glow of the fire, he looked magical to her.

“There are lots of ways of talking,” he whispered.

And when he dipped his head for another kiss, she eagerly responded. To her surprise, he held her in check, keeping the kiss slow and sweet and thrilling.

He touched her breast then, a soft exploration that matched the kiss.

Leaving Isabel yearning for more…


They’d sat before the fire, just talking. And kissing. And touching. Isabel remembered wanting so much more. She’d known Micah had, too, but he had been the one to put on the brakes, saying she was too young to make such an impulsive decision.

No, Poppi hadn’t found out. Not then.

That hadn’t been the night.

Not the night she’d lost her virginity.

That had been the night when Micah first told her he loved her.

The thought choked her. She’d loved him, too. She’d thought they would love each other and be together forever, but life didn’t always work out the way you planned.

She looked at the bed but knew she wouldn’t sleep. Not while her daughter was out there somewhere. Alone. Frightened. Maybe hurt.

The thought made her want to throw up. No way could she sleep.

Two minutes and she was dressed again. She grabbed her wallet and keys and left the bedroom. She saw the pillow and blanket on the couch. Empty.

“Micah?”

The front door was open.

He’d stepped outside.

“What are you doing out here?” she asked.

“Can’t sleep.”

“Me, neither. Let’s search again.”

He nodded, and she locked the front door before following him to the truck.

They spent hours combing the dark streets, first of her neighborhood, then widening the search.

Oh, Lucy…please don’t let anything bad be happening to our daughter.

She tried not to let her mind go there, but dark thoughts wouldn’t stop battering her. She looked out into the moonless night and, as in the photographs she took, imagined viewing Lucy in every conceivable potential danger until she thought she would lose her mind.

They drove in silence down deserted streets. Exhaustion caught up to her, and eventually she could hardly keep her eyes open, and her thoughts started drifting off. But it was only when Micah threw on the brakes and swerved the truck to keep from hitting a lone coyote crossing the road that she realized they’d both reached their limit.

“Damn it!”

She heard the desperation in his words.

Desperation that was consuming them both to where they would be useless at first light if they didn’t get at least a few hours sleep.

“Let’s go back and start again in the morning,” she choked out, wondering if she could sleep even for a minute with Lucy gone.

Chapter Four

Micah was up before dawn. He’d slept fitfully on the couch rather than in his daughter’s bed. Lucy’s room had been too close to Isabel’s. He hadn’t trusted himself to stay put. The couch was a foot too short and a foot too narrow to offer someone of his size a comfortable sleep. But he’d managed, at least for an hour here and there. He’d awakened several times, and each time he’d gone outside as if he would finally see Lucy running home and into his arms, but the waking nightmare continued.

After taking a fast shower, he pulled on his jeans and left the bathroom, barefoot and towel-drying his hair. Meaning to put on a pot of coffee, he headed for the kitchen and was met by the smell of coffee wafting out to him. Isabel had beaten him to it. When he entered, he saw that she was fully dressed—and that her gaze was fixated on his bare chest. He couldn’t help his physical reaction to the realization, but he did his best to hide it.

“I woke you,” he said, his tone apologetic. “Sorry.”

“Not your fault.” Avoiding looking at him, she set two mugs in front of the nearly full pot. “I didn’t sleep much.”

Worry for their daughter was wearing them both down.

“Sorry,” he said again. “We’ll find her, Isabel. Anything else is unacceptable.”

“A new philosophy?”

“An ancient one. Zia’s been teaching me some of the Pueblo ways of looking at life. She may be a lot younger than me,” he said of his half-sister, “but she’s also a lot more spiritual.”

Isabel swallowed hard and nodded. “We’re going to do whatever we must to find our daughter.”

“Together. That is a promise. Whatever it takes, Isabel.”

This was as on the same page as they’d ever been in the last twelve years. Micah was grateful they were able to put the past behind them, if only temporarily.

Though it was light now, school didn’t start for nearly two hours. However, they planned to get there early, to talk to kids as they arrived, especially those who rode on the school buses. Maybe one of them had noticed something out of the ordinary.

Two hours was enough time to eat. Since Isabel showed no interest in anything but her mug of coffee, Micah made a quick breakfast, and she did a great job of pretending to eat what he put in front of her, while actually only moving the food around on her plate. When she was done, she scraped three-fourths of her breakfast into the garbage.

“I’ll call Ochoa,” she said, “let him know what we’re doing.”

“Right.”

He used the privacy of Lucy’s room to finish dressing. His cell phone rang. He checked the ID and saw it was Seth. His gut tightened as he answered.

“What is it? Have you heard something?”

“No. I was just trying to figure out what might have happened to Lucy,” Seth said. “Or who. Do you have any idea about who might have taken her?”

“We don’t even know for certain that she was taken.” Micah kept his voice low. “Who knows what’s been going on here or at school. Lucy might have taken off. Maybe she’ll show up on her own today.” He could only hope.

“Did Isabel say something to make you think that?”

“No, not at all. She has no clue. But you know how it is when you’re young. Things get exaggerated in your mind.”

“Yeah, well, we ought to start thinking about who might have reason to take her.”

“If someone took her, it could be random,” Micah said.

“Or not. I’m just saying.”

He was saying exactly what Micah had been trying to avoid considering. “Let’s not jump to any conclusions. We don’t know how this is going to play out talking to the kids at the school. Maybe we’ll learn something useful.”

“Gramps is taking it badly,” Seth said. “He keeps saying this is his and Hector’s fault.”

If not for the feud, he and Isabel would have gotten married and made a home for their daughter on Wild Ranch, far from Santa Fe. Lucy would have been going to a different school altogether. Never would have gotten in that accident. Never would have disappeared. But he couldn’t start thinking that way.

Since he knew how crazy their grandfather was about Lucy, Micah said, “Try to talk him down, would you?”

“I’ll do that. And you call when you know something.”

“I will,” Micah promised, hanging up and going back to the kitchen. “I’m ready to go,” he told Isabel.

She was just putting away her cell. “Detective Ochoa is good with our talking to the kids, but he wants to be kept informed if we learn anything at all.”

“Of course.”

With that settled, it was off to Lucy’s school.

They rode in tense silence. Micah was certain Isabel knew, just as he did, that the first forty-eight hours were crucial in finding a missing child. And they were almost to the halfway point. He refused to put words to the knowledge, as if words could make the worst-case scenario come true. He couldn’t think about Seth’s call, either. His suggestion that they might know who took Lucy.
Only positive thoughts
, he told himself. Positive words. He needed them badly, and so did Isabel.

“It looks like we’re not the first ones here,” she said as he pulled into the school lot where a few other vehicles were already parked.

“Janitorial staff?”

She sighed in agreement.

He parked and they waited. The silence between them grew thick, as did the air in his chest. He could hardly breathe for waiting.

“Tell me something positive about our girl,” he asked, hoping a distraction might help. “Something about her that I don’t know. She doesn’t share much with me the way she used to when she was little.”

He suspected Lucy blamed him for the big divide between her parents. Which, indeed, was at least partly his fault.

“The last few months she’s been worried that she’s not…not enough.”

“Not enough? In what way?”

“In every way. Not pretty enough. Not smart enough. Not talented enough.”

“She’s beautiful and she’s an A student, and her photography is nearly as good as yours was when you and I…” Micah let the rest of that trail off, lest the conversation take a turn that made them both uncomfortable.

“I’ve tried telling her all that.”

“You should have told me. Then I could have reassured her, too.”

“She’s eleven. Nothing would reassure her, not even her father.”

“But I should have known about it so I could make that choice.”

“Yes” was all she said.

If Isabel had more on her mind, it would have to wait. The first bus was rumbling into the lot. They were out of the truck before the bus was parked. When the door opened, Micah was standing there. He stepped in front of the door before the first kid could alight.

“Hey, move!” the anxious kid said.

“Hold your horses, hotshot.”

The driver, an older woman, asked, “Sir, is there a problem?”

“There is. Our daughter is missing,” he told her over the cacophony of noise made by disgruntled kids who wanted off.

Isabel scrunched up next to him. “Lucy never got on her bus yesterday. We want to ask these kids if maybe they saw her.”

Her desperate tone got to him, as did the fact that she was pressed up against his side, but Micah forced himself to remain stoic. If he tried to comfort her, Isabel would surely break down and he didn’t want to cause her more grief.

The bus driver shook her head. “I’m so sorry.” Then she turned to the busload of kids and gave a sharp whistle. “Listen up! These people are looking for their child! She never got on her bus to go home yesterday and now she’s missing!”

Voices lowered and fell silent. Micah could read outright fear in some of the kids’ expressions.

“Do any of you know Lucinda Falcon?” Isabel asked, holding up one of the missing posters to show them. “Lucy Falcon?”

A few hands raised.

“Did you see her yesterday?”

“I did in class,” a girl said.

Another nodded. “Me, too.”

“Out here in the lot,” Micah specified. “When you were getting on your buses to go home. Did any of you see her, then?”

Kids shrugged and shook their heads and began talking among themselves.

“If anyone remembers anything,” Isabel said, “please tell your teacher.”

Micah added, “Ask your friends, too.”

Another bus was just pulling into the lot, so Micah backed out and quickly approached it. Isabel went straight to a third bus. And while he was questioning the kids, even more buses arrived. Unable to keep up, he and Isabel stood together in the midst of the parking lot with kids running by them. Isabel appeared crushed.

A dark-haired woman dressed in a navy pantsuit approached them.

“That’s the principal, Gloria Rivera.”

“Ms. Falcon.” The woman turned her dark eyes to Micah in question.

“This is Lucy’s father, Micah Wild. Micah, Principal Rivera.”

They shook hands and the principal said, “I assume you haven’t found Lucy.”

“I’m afraid not,” Micah said. “We asked some of the kids on buses if they saw her, but there were simply too many coming in at once to catch all of them.”

“I can assemble everyone in the auditorium—”

“That’ll take time.” Time they could use to track down any leads, Micah thought. They’d been here for an hour already. “It’s most likely the kids who know Lucy are in her class. Maybe that’s the way to go.”

“Fine. You have my permission to address her class yourselves. The bell will ring in ten minutes. I see you have flyers with Lucy’s photo. If you can leave copies, I can send a student aide around to all of the other classes with posters and a note to the teachers to ask their own students if they saw your daughter after school yesterday.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Micah said, forcing up a smile for the woman as he handed over a handful of flyers.

His smile didn’t last long. Talking to Lucy’s sixth-grade class proved to be as frustrating as talking to the kids on the buses. No one had seen Lucy in the parking lot other than her friend Brittany, who didn’t have anything to add to what she’d already told Isabel.

Once they left the classroom, the principal intercepted them, her expression worried. “I don’t know that there is any connection, but we seem to have another student unaccounted for.”

“Who?” Isabel asked.

“A seventh-grader named Sam Donovan. If a child doesn’t show up and the parents haven’t called in, we automatically call the parents. We couldn’t get them at home, so we’re trying to track them down now.”

Micah hoped it was just a misunderstanding. But what if it wasn’t? He asked, “Have you called the police?”

The principal nodded. “I spoke directly to Detective Ochoa myself. He’s looking into it.”

“Thank you for telling us.” He didn’t want to think about another set of parents torn by the grief of not knowing where their child was. Another poor kid missing and probably terrified like his Lucy. “If you could give us the phone number, we’ll call ourselves.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. Confidentiality issues. You need to talk to Detective Ochoa. Or perhaps…if you found Roy Donovan’s number yourself…”

Micah nodded. “I understand.” But he didn’t really. This was a possible missing kid, a possible link to his daughter.

Once out of the building, Isabel asked, “What do you think?

“I don’t know. Could the two incidents be connected?”

Micah tried putting aside the sick feeling in his gut. Two missing kids. The other was a boy, and a year older than their daughter. He finally put to words what he hadn’t wanted to ask.

“Lucy didn’t have any reason to want to run away, right?”

“No, of course not. I mean we’ve been fighting more, but nothing that serious.”

Micah knew she wouldn’t like the next part, but he had to know. “This kid Sam—has Lucy ever mentioned him?”

“Do you think I wouldn’t tell you right away if she had?” Isabel’s voice caught.

“Hey, you’re the one who asked if there’s a connection. And even if there is, maybe it’s not as bad as we’ve been imagining.” He could only hope that both kids were okay. That he was just being paranoid.

Her voice steadied. “Lucy never mentioned him.”

Micah was just about to get in the truck when an SUV pulled into the lot.

“Aren’t you going to unlock the doors?” She sounded like she was holding back tears.

He beeped the locks open, but didn’t make a move. As if realizing he was distracted, Isabel turned to see by what. The SUV stopped in front of the school, and a scrawny boy with wheat-colored hair who looked a bit taller than Lucy tumbled out. No sooner was the passenger door shut when the SUV took off.

And Micah shouted, “Hey, Sam!”

The kid immediately turned toward him.

“Are you Sam Donovan?” Isabel asked.

“No. He’s in my class, though.”

Micah took a ragged breath.

“What about Lucy Falcon?” Isabel drew closer. “Do you know her?”

Following, Micah said, “We’re her parents.”

The kid frowned at them and backed up. “Hey, I didn’t do anything to Lucy. I barely know her!”

Isabel looked like she was ready to burst into tears when she said, “Lucy never got on the school bus yesterday. She didn’t come home. We’re trying to find out what happened to her.”

The kid shrugged. “I wasn’t even here yesterday ’cause there was a ‘bring your kid to work day’ at my dad’s business. And I forgot to set my alarm, so now I’m late. I gotta get to class.”

He stalked off, and Micah put an arm across Isabel’s shoulders. “C’mon.”

She nodded and let him lead her back to the truck without protest. He could see she was fighting hard to hold it together.

Micah had to stop himself from taking her in his arms and holding her, as was his instinct. She’d made it clear she didn’t want his comfort. He wasn’t about to force the issue. He’d once thought he would be able to hold her whenever he wanted, that they’d be together forever.

He wouldn’t make that mistake again.


Isabel was relieved to be in the truck, free of Micah’s touch. She didn’t trust herself around him after what had almost happened the night before. Even so, part of her longed for a closer connection, but she was too smart to let her heart lead her head again.

They simultaneously pulled out their cell phones.

She said, “I’m calling Detective Ochoa.”

BOOK: Born To Be Wild
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