Finding Casey (37 page)

A crowded house on Christmas Eve was nothing out of the ordinary to Glory. In California, there were always foster sons passing through, or Lorna and Juan's Christmas party, and if it wasn't that, she was preparing for an upcoming wedding, or taking care of a lame horse, or worrying how she was going to pay the mortgage. Since moving to New Mexico, there had been none of that, but this Christmas her house was filled up in a different way. Halle was in the kitchen making peppermint-candy cupcakes. Casey and Aspen sat by the Christmas tree, their first one ever. Whenever Aspen reached for a bulb, Casey gently took hold of her hand. “No, that's where the ornaments live,” she explained, and by the time she finished the sentence, Aspen was already on to the next new adventure. Glory wondered what next Christmas would be like, when her own little girl was here. Poor Joseph, surrounded by women, except for the dogs.

Curly was trying to win Eddie over, but Eddie remained unconvinced. No dog has ever worked so hard to fit in, she thought, while Eddie “tested” Curly by stealing all the dog toys and sitting on them. Curly wagged her tail, ever hopeful. Caddy lay by the fire, near enough for Casey to reach out and touch him. Glory wondered, did he remember the day Casey disappeared? Was it Casey's DNA that informed him that this was Juniper's sister? Did the sight of him remind her of the terrible night she was taken?

Since their arrival a few days ago, Aspen had been exploring
the house, opening closets and drawers and emptying them of their contents, whether it was pots and pans or winter coats or file cabinets. Juniper patiently allowed her to dress up in her clothes, then reminded her, “Now, those aren't your things. You can play with them, but you'll need to put them back. Here's your dresser. Most of the drawers are empty, but after Christmas they'll be filled to the brim with new things that are all yours.”

Not one word had been uttered about Topher, but there was plenty of talk about Chico. Glory noticed how Juniper jumped every time her cell phone rang. She'd take the calls privately, and after she hung up she walked around the house humming, offering to vacuum or chop firewood. When she asked if Chico could come for Christmas, Joseph said, “Your mom has a full house,” and Glory interrupted to say, “What's one more person? But he'll have to sleep on the floor.” Juniper assured her he was the most flexible person ever, and he'd be fine with that, and thanked them so profusely that Glory and Joseph exchanged a knowing glance. The day after Casey was found, Joseph had formally declined the Candela job. He was busy organizing an animal-therapy program, recruiting volunteers to staff it, and arranging training.

At the center of things, watching her family's massive life changes, Glory lay waiting and wondering, watching Aspen in particular. There was something about the little girl that seemed odd, and Glory wondered if it had to do with the scarring on her heart. It left her with premature ventricular tachycardia; Glory could always tell when her heartbeat was out of rhythm, because the girl would cough. Not that it seemed to inhibit her activities, far from it. Here she was, one week out of a coma yet running around a strange house, eating everything that was offered to her, and chattering as if she had grown up around
these people forever. Glory envied her the ability to move on, and was grateful that the task of mothering kept Casey busy. Nearing seven, Aspen still entertained imaginary friends—perfectly understandable, Ardith Clemmons said, given her seclusion. And oftentimes she sat by herself telling that story Casey had entertained her with over the years.
One day the princess stopped sleeping and got up and walked away from the bad man and came to Santa Fe, New Mexico, because the Christmas tree needed her help and so she made cupcakes for it and remembered to feed the birds because it was winter and the flowers were all asleep …

Every day, Juniper and Aspen filled up the bird feeder and put out fresh water. Aspen stood at the window naming the birds: wren, woodpecker, scrub jay, raven, sparrow, first by their common names, and then in Latin. Joseph had given her a bird book, and now she carried it everywhere she went. “That little girl is very smart,” he said, marveling at how quickly she learned. She seemed particularly enamored with the sparrows, of which there were several varieties she seemed determined to master. “Chipping sparrow, rufous sparrow,” she called out, and every time she spotted one, she ran to Glory and patted her belly. When she laid her little hand on Glory's stomach, she would say, “Hello, Sparrow,” and then run off to look out the French doors, or to watch the feeder. She had no fear of Glory's chickens, she was at ease with the dogs—Dodge especially seemed to realize she needed him to be calm—and while that made sense, it still seemed extraordinary for a dog who'd been out of control only a few weeks earlier. The first time the house ghost groaned, Aspen looked up at the ceiling and said, “Shh, Dolores, time to be quiet.”

Had Juniper told her about the ghost? Glory wondered. Had Joseph? The retablo had been moved to the fireplace mantel,
above the Christmas stockings, beeswax candles, and garland of pine. Halle said she hadn't told her, and how did a person explain a ghost to a child who was just learning about Santa, anyway? Yes, she was odd, but bless her heart, with everything she'd been through, wasn't that the least of her problems? Glory no longer complained about the drywall dust, what with flour flying through the air and more of the sprinkles going into Aspen's mouth than on the cookies, but what the dog didn't lick up the broom would take care of, and Glory found herself missing housework, just a little, something to make her feel a part of the crowd versus lying idle at the center of things.

Halle surprised Glory. She let the little girl play with her makeup, pester her from breakfast to dinnertime, played Candyland until even Glory never wanted to hear the word again. Ardith Clemmons had driven down from Española and come to their house to engage the family in therapy, so while they got used to each other, Casey would still be able to count on her to feel safe. Seth White Buffalo hadn't been found—yet, Joseph said. But all those years she'd been captive, thinking her parents and sister were dead, and then finding out her mother had committed suicide had taken a toll. Casey had nightmares, so she slept with Juniper and Aspen. Some nights Glory woke up and could hear them talking.

“Things will improve,” Ardith Clemmons said. “They already have.”

Christmas Eve, everyone went on the Canyon Road walk except for Glory. She hadn't felt well all day, so she went to bed early, a little cranky. If you could call this sleep, she said, when she woke up to pee what seemed like every ten minutes. At
three A.M. the house was quiet as she made her way to the bathroom for what she hoped was the last trip until morning. But when she stood up, she felt a trickle between her legs, and knew at once it was her water breaking. She cleaned up, changed into dry clothes, and checked her overnight bag. She went to the great room to look at the Christmas tree until she had her first contraction, figuring she might as well let Joseph sleep, because who knew how long labor would last?

But when she walked into the great room, there was Aspen, lying on her stomach, staring at the Christmas tree. “Hello there,” Glory said. “What are you doing up?”

Aspen, adorable in Snoopy footed pajamas, looked at her with big eyes. “Waiting for Sparrow.”

Glory smiled. “I think you mean Santa.”

“No,” Aspen said, her little voice a trill. “Santa comes tomorrow. Sparrow is coming tonight,” she said, and she stood up and placed both her hands on Glory's belly.

Glory felt a contraction then, not as painful as she'd imagined, but not exactly comfortable, either. “How did you know that?” Glory asked, taking Aspen's tiny hands and giving her a squeeze.

Aspen hugged her back, and said, “Dolores told me.”

Outside, the snow was falling all around them.

It would take hundreds of pages for me to properly thank the folks who help me along the way in writing a book. To my agent, Deborah Schneider, your wisdom, guidance, and belief in my writing all these years have kept me going, and I am so grateful for your friendship. Likewise, it is my great good fortune to work with Nancy Miller at Bloomsbury, the editor who has made writing these last two books the most rewarding experience of my career. I'm blessed to have writer friends from whom I derive solace, inspiration, and strength: Anne Caston, Rich Chiappone, Earlene Fowler, Judi Hendricks, Nicky Leach, Caroline Leavitt, Jodi Picoult, Wolf Schneider, Sherry Simpson, David Stevenson, Candelora Versace, and Carolyn Turgeon (especially for her feedback and suggestions). There are two vices that keep me going, Coca-Cola Cherry Zero, and Old Gringo boots (thank you, Amy Fairchild and Ernie, for finding my green-and-purple Takas, which made my author photo). For thirty-eight years my husband Stewart has been my touchstone, my rock, and the light of my life, along with our dog posse both here and in heaven. To my son Jack, newly college-graduated, newly single, your future is bright and filled with rewards you can't see right now, but trust me when I say that
the good parts are coming and will provide a foundation to build on and remember. Writing books has always been my dream and brings me great joy, and every day I am thankful for the opportunity, but Jack, you are and always will be my one true masterpiece.

Jo-Ann Mapson
is the author of ten previous novels, including the beloved
Hank & Chloe, Blue Rodeo
(also a CBS TV movie), and the
Los Angeles Times
bestsellers
The Wilder Sisters
and
Bad Girl Creek
, a book-club favorite. She lives in Santa Fe, New Mexico, with her husband and their three dogs. Visit her website at
www.joannmapson.com
.

Solomon's Oak
The Owl & Moon Café
The Wilder Sisters
Loving Chloe
Shadow Ranch
Blue Rodeo
Hank & Chloe
Fault Line
(stories)

The Bad Girl Creek trilogy:
Bad Girl Creek
Along Came Mary
Goodbye, Earl

Copyright © 2012 by Jo-Ann Mapson

Electronic edition published in October 2012

All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Published by Bloomsbury USA, New York

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA

Mapson, Jo-Ann.
Finding Casey : a novel / Jo-Ann Mapson.—1st U.S. ed.
p. cm.
1. Women college students—Fiction. 2. Domestic fiction.
3. Sisters—Fiction. 4. Santa Fe (N.M.)—Fiction. I. Title.
PS356.A62F56 2012
813′.54—dc23
2012004587

First U.S. edition 2012

ISBN: 978-1-60819-924-2 (e-book)

Visit Bloomsbury USA's website at
www.bloomsburyusa.com