The Cowboy's Homecoming (8 page)

She wanted to believe that God would answer prayers and Darla would be found safe. She wanted to make deals with God. She would go to the mission field, or maybe give everything she had, if He'd help them find the child. But she knew better. She knew that God didn't need her promises or deals. She knew that prayer didn't work that way.

Jeremy parked. He glanced her way and she didn't want to get out of the truck. Fear knotted in her stomach. She looked out the window at the silent field, a breeze blowing the grass in waves. In the distance coyotes were yipping and howling. Darla was out there somewhere.

“Please help us find her,” she whispered.

“In order for God to help us out, Beth, we need to start looking.”

“I know.” She opened her door and got out, stepping into the deep grass at the side of the road. Petunia
hopped out of the truck behind her and followed her as she walked around the vehicle and met Jeremy. He had a .22 pistol in a holster at his side. She eyed the small-caliber handgun and he shrugged.

“You never know. A coyote, a snake, it pays to be prepared.”

“Right.” She'd grown up here. She knew that a person never knew what they'd encounter in a field, whether at night or during the day.

“We'll walk in the ditches first, down to the gate. One of us on either side. And then I think we should walk back and forth through the field. If we use the fence as a guide and go parallel from end to end we'll know we aren't skipping anything.”

“Sounds like a good plan.” Beth scanned the field, looking for anything out of the ordinary, anything remarkable. Nothing stood out. There was a hay barn and a crumbling foundation; leftovers from a forgotten farm.

They walked separately for a while, down the ditches on either side of the road. Beth felt choked with fear. What if they found Darla? What if they didn't? It was getting dark now. She wondered if Darla was afraid of the dark.

She met Jeremy at the gate to the pasture.

Jeremy reached for her hand. She hesitated, then accepted his strong hand holding hers tight.

“What did he do to you?” Jeremy's question was spoken in a soft voice as they walked along the fence line. They took careful steps in the dark and kept their attention focused on the ground, on clumps of weeds and brush that hadn't been cut down. The beams of their
flashlights swung back and forth. The sun was now just a deep red glow in the dark violet evening sky.

“Jeremy, not now.”

“Right, of course.” He held tight to her hand. “I wish I could have stopped you that day. I wish I had gone to your dad and told him what you were planning.”

She shook her head. “Stop.”

Stop having a velvet-and-sandpaper voice that set her nerves on edge. Stop saying everything right.

She didn't want to have this conversation with Jeremy Hightree, a man who skated in and out of lives, who left broken hearts scattered like leaves in the fall. She'd already been broken. Now she was healing.

Her sense of self-worth had been stripped away, and she'd been putting herself back together piece by piece with the help of people who loved her and cared about her. It didn't make sense for Jeremy to be a part of the healing process.

So she kept walking and so did he. The dog stayed close, but always with her nose to the ground, sniffing, whimpering.

After an hour of walking back and forth across the field, Beth was starting to give up. She was starting to fear the worst. “Why don't you call and see if the others have had any luck?”

“They would have called us.” He pulled his phone out anyway. Beth waited next to him.

Petunia ran ahead of them. Jeremy was dialing the phone, then suddenly Petunia was barking. The high-pitched yips filled the dark and silent night.

“S
he found something.”

Beth grabbed Jeremy's hand. Before he could slip the phone back into his pocket, Beth pulled him in the direction of the barking dog. Her flashlight beamed across the field, searching for the dog.

“It could be a skunk, Beth.”

“I know, but it could be Darla.”

Jeremy wanted to pull back, to tell her to calm down and to be realistic. An entire day had gone by and the girl hadn't been seen. If she were here, just a half mile from her home, why hadn't she gone home?

“I know what you're thinking.” Beth slowed her headlong rush to get to the dog. The collie's barks had turned frantic and high-pitched. In the distance a coyote howled.

Jeremy's hand went to the gun that he'd slipped into the holster before he left the RV. It could be that the dog had a skunk cornered. It could be anything. Or anyone.

“Petunia. Dog,” Beth called out in a quiet voice, “come here.”

The dog continued to bark at the crawl space under the old foundation. That meant it was probably a rodent of some type. A skunk. Maybe a coon or opossum.

Or maybe the girl was there and prayers had been answered. He hoped prayers had been answered. He remembered years ago when Beth's mom had come to church, giving them all the news that nothing could be done. She'd fought for years but the battle with cancer had been lost. Her hair was gone. Her clothes hung on her body. She was ready to go home, but she would appreciate prayers. Maybe God would give her the healing the doctors hadn't. If not, she wanted peace.

And she'd left them. He'd been twelve and more angry than he'd ever been in his life. Beth's mom had been a mother to him. She'd left Beth alone.

He sucked in a breath, and Beth's hand touched his arm. He glanced down, unsure of what he should feel for the woman at his side.

He held the flashlight in one hand, Beth in the other. The dog was barking, loud, sharp barks. They reached the old homestead and the dog looked up at them but kept barking.

He leaned, crawling close to the hole in the foundation.

“Darla?” He waited. He could hear a scurrying sound. Just as he thought, rodents of some kind. One more time, though. “Darla, kiddo, people are looking for you.”

And then a sob. He listened, making sure it wasn't Beth. The sound came from inside the crawl space. He couldn't fit through the hole. He flashed the light around the darkness, spotting rocks, old posts, concrete blocks. “Darla?”

“I'm calling for help.” Beth was pushing buttons on her phone and then talking, asking for an ambulance, for support.

“Darla, you have to say something. Are you okay?”

“I'm here.”

At the sound of her voice he exhaled a sigh. And he knew that one family would have a happy ending.

“Are you hurt?”

“My ankle.” She sobbed again. “I want out of here. I just want to go home.”

“Okay, now you have a light and we're going to get you home. Can you crawl toward me?”

He heard movement, rocks shifting, scraping. She cried out a little but she kept moving. And then he saw her, a dark-haired kid with big eyes in a pale face. There was a cut on her head. Blood had dripped down the side of her face and dried. Dirt smudged her cheeks.

“Darla, have you been sleeping? Or dizzy?”

She nodded a little. “I was running and something hit my head. I crawled under here, though. I knew about the old house because we play here sometimes.”

“Good thing you knew that.” He reached for her hand. Beth was behind him, her hand on his back, her face close to his. She trembled against him. His insides were jumbled together.

“I really want to go home.” The child crawled out of the hole and into his arms. He sat back, holding her tight. Thin arms wrapped tight around his neck and held on. Beth's arms were around them both.

“Let's take a look and make sure you're okay.” He set the girl on the foundation of the house. She had knobby knees and long legs.

“My ankle really hurts.” She stretched her leg and he eased the shoe off her foot.

Next to him Beth was rummaging through that backpack of hers. She pulled out a bottle of water and a package of snack crackers. Jeremy stopped her from handing them over to the child.

“Nothing in your stomach hurts, right?” Jeremy held the child's shoeless foot and touched the swollen ankle. She flinched and then shook her head.

“My stomach is okay.” Her big eyes were locked on the water and snacks that Beth still held. “I'm just really hungry.”

He nodded and Beth handed the snacks to the child, first taking the lid off the water. She reached back into her pack and pulled out sterile wipes and bandages of all sizes. He grinned up at her. She was definitely prepared.

“I knew we'd find her.” She smiled that beaming smile of hers.

“Right.” A prayer answered. He was okay with prayers being answered for this girl and her family.

In the distance he heard sirens. The coyotes, silent for a moment, started in again. Their howls joined family dogs up and down this stretch of road. Darla shivered.

“It's okay,” he said with a wink, and she smiled.

“They've been really close. I was afraid they would find me.”

“I don't think they could have found you and they aren't real fond of people.” He teased her with a grin and a wink, making her laugh.

Beth held out a sterile wipe. He handed her the flashlight and she held it up, giving him a clear look at the gash on the child's head. It was pretty deep and still
oozing. He wiped at it, and Darla shuddered. Tears ran down her cheeks, turning dirt stains to mud.

“Sorry, kiddo, this might hurt but we need to clean this cut.” He glanced back at Beth. “Do you have another bottle of water? We can wash it out for now and the paramedics can take care of the rest.”

She handed him water. He tilted Darla's head to the side and rinsed the wound, wanting to get out the gravel and dirt embedded in the gash before he applied pressure to stop the bleeding. He wasn't a first aid expert, but he'd been around enough cowboys to know the basics.

Darla cried out when he pushed the gauze compress against the wound. “Hang in there. And think of all the stories you'll be able to tell the kids at school. You never know, you might even get interviewed by the newspaper.”

That got her attention and she smiled. “Do you think?”

Lights flashed across the field from numerous vehicles lining up on the road next to the property. Someone must have opened the gate to the field because in moments the long line of cars, trucks and emergency vehicles were heading across the field. Jeremy shined the light to signal their location.

“They're almost here.” Beth sat down next to the child, holding her close.

This night was nearly over. Jeremy needed distance. He needed to get his head on straight.

What had made him believe that coming to Dawson would be easy? He watched as Beth continued to talk in quiet whispers to the frightened child. When he'd planned this venture, the pros and cons of tearing down Back Street Church, he hadn't counted on Beth.

First responders and a half dozen others, probably including the girl's parents, were jumping out of vehicles and heading toward him. For a few minutes he could be distracted. His gaze shot back to Beth and Darla. Yeah, maybe not so distracted.

 

As the crowds pushed in, Beth lost track of Jeremy. She moved out of the way of the medical crew and the family members that were surrounding Darla. In the dark, with the dozens of people circling the area, it was easy to slip to the edge of the crowd, to watch and not be involved.

Her brother found her, though. He broke from the crowd and spotted her.

“You okay?” Jason slipped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a loose hug.

Beth nodded. “I'm good. Tired, though. This day has lasted forever.”

“It has been a long day. You and Jeremy did good.”

“Yeah.” She watched Jeremy move, watched him stay in control. “What makes someone want to destroy something and yet, at the same time, go out of his way to keep someone safe?”

“It isn't about destroying the church, Beth.” Jason shrugged. “It's about dealing with his past.”

Yes, the past. No matter how much he said it was about building a business, the real motivation was Tim Cooper. He'd been an elder in the church, a pillar of the community, the man a kid like Jeremy would have admired. He would have wanted someone like Tim Cooper as a dad. And if things had been different, he would have been.

“Don't get that look in your eyes,” Jason warned.

She smiled up at him. “It's dark, you can't see a look in my eyes. There isn't a look.”

“Fixing him won't fix this problem. The church is still standing, Beth. Pray and give it time.”

“I will.” She watched the crowds surrounding people. “But I do have a plan and I'm not giving up.”

“You called the historical society?”

“I did.”

Jason sighed. “Beth, I know you want to save the church. I get that. But…”

“But what?”

“Nothing. I just don't want you hurt.”

“I'm not going to get hurt.”

“You're playing both sides of the fence.”

Now what was that supposed to mean? “I'm not.”

“Yeah, you are. You care about the church and you care about Jeremy Hightree. When push comes to shove, who are you going to choose?”

She didn't have an answer for him. Jason touched her shoulder. “Do you want to ride home with me?”

Beth watched as Darla was placed on the gurney, her mother holding her hand on one side, her dad on the other. “No, I'll ride back with Jeremy. We're parked down the road about a half mile.”

Jeremy stood at the edge of the crowd, near Wyatt. He turned in her direction. As he approached, Jason gave one last warning. “Be careful.”

“I will. I am.”

“I'm heading back.” Jeremy nodded at Jason as he spoke to her. Beth watched her brother, saw him bristle a little like their stock dog did when someone pulled up the drive.

Beth stood on tiptoe and kissed her brother's cheek. “I'll call when I get home.”

“Make sure you don't forget.” Jason hugged her, said something low, probably just a goodbye to Jeremy, and he left.

“It's always good to feel liked.” Jeremy chuckled, the sound vibrating in the silence that followed the departure of the huge crowd that had been there just moments earlier. Taillights reflected shades of red as the long line of vehicles left single file, out of the field and then down the road. The lights on the ambulance flashed in the dark night.

They stood there for a long moment, the two of them alone again. Beth drew in a deep breath of clean night air. A light breeze blew around them, pushing the long grass in swirls and picking up leaves that had fallen from the trees during the storm. The storm that hit her heart at that moment rivaled the one that hit Dawson that day.

Had it only been a day? Was she really standing in this dark field with a sliver of moonlight cutting a path across the green grass and Jeremy Hightree standing in front of her, watching her?

Where was fear? She'd battled it for so long, she'd forgotten what it meant to be strong, to not worry about the next moment, the next day, the next crisis.

Jeremy tugged his hat low and smiled a smile so cute that everything she'd been thinking scattered like dandelion seeds in the wind. He stood in front of her, tall and strong and with hands that she knew were gentle. He was wearing a dark blue T-shirt. She still had his long sleeved shirt.

“Beth, are you okay?” His voice was soft but strong.
His eyes stayed with hers. Connected. She loved his eyes. They were warm caramel.

“I'm fine.”

How long had they been standing there? Two minutes or five? Was he starting to wonder about her sanity? Her fingers curled into the palms of her hands. He stepped closer, his expression shifting from gentle to determined.

She closed her eyes. He touched her cheek and she looked up at him, at his cowboy smile that melted her down to her boots. He looked good in a cowboy hat. She felt warm in his shirt.

“It's been a long night.” His words were drawn out, soft.

“It has.”

“I'm going to hold you.”

What did she say to that? Shivers of apprehension trickled down her spine. Apprehension or anticipation? She nodded a little.

“It wasn't an order, Beth. I thought that maybe we were both wrung out after this day.”

He stepped close and his arms went around her, pulling her lightly against him, holding her close. She froze and started to pull back. His arms didn't lock around her. He didn't force her to stay. She didn't want to move.

“Holding you feels better than just about anything,” he whispered near her ear. His cheek brushing hers was rough, his lips on her temple were warm.

She nodded and breathed deep. The fear and tension from the incredibly long day melted and she felt safe. It would take time to process that information. Jeremy Hightree made her feel safe.

“You okay?”

She nodded and instead of breaking the connection she moved farther into his embrace, into strong arms that held her close. She breathed deep and relaxed, her cheek against his shoulder.

“My legs are shaking,” she admitted, holding tight, her hands on his arms.

“It was a long day and longer night. It's okay now.”

She nodded into his chest. “Yeah.”

When she looked up, his face was close to hers. Her lips parted on a sigh and she moved her hands up his arms to his shoulders. Jeremy pulled back, smiling.

“Not tonight, Beth.”

She closed her eyes. No, not tonight. Her heart thudded, racing fast. Not tonight. Or tomorrow night. Not ever. What had she been thinking?

A soft embrace shouldn't distract her, but it had. Maybe Jason was right; she couldn't stand on both sides of this fence. Jeremy on one side, the church on the other.