The Reluctant Cowgirl (13 page)

I’m Blair Winchester with Channel Six, live from Shady Grove, on this beautiful Saturday morning. As I told you before the break, this morning we’re doing something a little different with a live newscast featuring a plea from a heartbroken father. Jeremy Buchanan’s little girl, Beka, is missing. So here we are live from the McCord Ranch with Jeremy Buchanan. Jeremy.” The heavily made-up anchorwoman stuck the microphone in his face.

He stared at her. She’d said the word
live
so many times that his tongue felt permanently glued to the roof of his mouth at the thought of all the people watching him right this second. He only had one chance to get this perfect. “Um. You’ve done a great job explaining the facts, Blair. And many of your viewers saw my interview yesterday. Thanks to everyone who called in. But I’d like to say one more time”—his gaze caught Crystal’s, and she was looking at him like she knew he could do it—“if anyone out there has any idea where Beka is, please, please call.” He held up a portrait that he’d had taken of him and Beka two Christmases ago for his mom and dad. “She’s my little girl and I’m her daddy. And neither one of us will ever be completely whole until we find each other again.”

He took a deep breath. He hadn’t run this by anyone, not the anchorwoman, not the missing-children experts, not even Crystal. He looked directly into the camera and smiled at his daughter. “Beka, honey, if you’re out there and you can hear me, listen up, Little Bit.” He winked as he said his pet name for her, forcing himself to imagine her looking straight at him. “I’ll always love you. Never give up. When you get old enough to find me, I’ll be waiting.” He could feel a tear trickle down his cheek. He handed Blair the microphone and shrugged his shoulder up to wipe the droplet on his flannel shirt.

Blair took the microphone and cleared her throat. “Thank you, Jeremy.” Her smile looked a little trembly as she faced the camera. “Folks, you’ve seen the local search center here set up at the McCord Ranch on the outskirts of Shady Grove, Arkansas. You’ve seen the operators inside ready to take your calls.” The cameraman moved in toward her and she lowered her voice. “And you’ve seen a heartbroken father pleading for his daughter’s return. Operators will be here until noon today. Please call the number on the screen or notify your local police department if you know anything at all about six-year-old Beka Buchanan.”

When the camera stopped rolling, Crystal hugged Jeremy. He pulled her close and breathed in her strength. They hurried into the house to the phones.

As he braced himself for the roller coaster of hope and despair to start again, he was glad that he’d talked his parents into waiting at home for word. The stress was killing them.

Elyse and Rachel were taking calls and the phones were already jangling. After an hour, they slowed down to an occasional ring. Rachel looked at her notebook then over to where Jeremy was pacing by the couch. “Other than a couple of obvious crazies, I think most of this morning’s callers were just touched by your plea and want you to know they’re praying for you.”

He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “I appreciate their prayers.”

Someone knocked on the door, and Crystal jumped up from the couch to answer it. A plump woman Jeremy recognized as his barber’s wife stood on the doorstep with tears in her eyes. “Oh, honey,” she said when she saw him. “I’m so sorry.” She rushed past Crystal and handed Jeremy a plate with a sliced loaf of some kind of bread on it. “I made this for the flower club meetin’. But after I saw you on TV...” She shook her head and pulled a tissue from the pocket of her smock. “I wanted you to have it.”

“Thank you so much.” Jeremy held the plate and nodded toward the phone lines. “I’ll share it with everyone.”

She nodded and backed out the door and down the steps.

Crystal took the plate from him. “I’ll put this in the kitchen.”

Luke sauntered in the front door, looking over his shoulder. “Hey, what’s going on out there?” He zoned in on the plate Crystal was holding. “That smells like banana nut bread.” He reached out and scooped up a slice.

She slapped at his hand, but he was too fast.

In spite of his nerves, Jeremy smiled.

Luke jerked his thumb over his shoulder toward outside. “Do y’all know there’s a traffic jam out there?”

Crystal set the plate down, and she and Jeremy raced to the door. “Oh, my,” she breathed.

At least seven vehicles were trying to get down the bumpy little lane, with the lead one right in the middle of the road, apparently straddling the potholes, refusing to go over five miles an hour. The barber’s wife was trying to go back the way she’d come, but the little car coming at her wasn’t giving her anywhere to go. Finally she came to a stop at the edge of the driveway and waited.

Jeremy could hear the horns start to honk. “Who are they and what are they doing here?”

Jack joined them on the porch and shook his head. “That’s my mother in the front car, and unless I miss my guess, Rachel’s mom is with her.” He clasped Jeremy on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, man, but it looks like your plea touched hearts you weren’t aiming for.”

Finally the little car reached the driveway and pulled off to the side. Mrs. Westwood and Mrs. Donovan climbed out, both carrying baking dishes.

Jeremy groaned. “Not that I’m not grateful,” he said quickly to Jack.

Jeremy glared at Crystal as she smothered a giggle with her hand.

The older women were teary eyed as they bustled up to the porch. They practically fell on Jeremy, patting his back and squeezing his arm. “Bless your heart. If there’s anything we can do...”

He nodded. “Thank you so much.” He looked over their heads at two vans pulling up close to the porch. A woman jumped out of the first van and ran around to slide the big door open. “Over here,” she directed. Children ranging anywhere from five to fifteen poured out of both vans, many of them clutching musical instruments, some of them carrying papers that looked suspiciously like sheet music.

The driver, a no-nonsense-looking woman, walked up to Jeremy and stuck out her hand. “Mr. Buchanan, I’m Claire Mitchum, and this is our homeschool group band and chorus. When we saw you on TV earlier, everyone started wondering what we could do to help.”

He shook her hand. What in the world?

She beamed proudly at a snaggletoothed redhead carrying a clarinet. “Carson came up with the idea that we could sing and play for you.”

Jeremy’s puzzlement must have been showing on his face, because she gave him a sympathetic smile. “To calm your nerves while you wait.” She leaned in close. “I know what you’re thinking, but they’re really quite good. And they so wanted to help in some way.”

He nodded, bemused but touched.

“You sit on the porch.” She included Crystal, Jack, and Mrs. Westwood and Mrs. Donovan in her motion. “You and your friends.”

Crystal tugged on Jeremy’s hand and led him to the double rocker. Jack guided his mother and mother-in-law to chairs and leaned down to slap Jeremy on the knee. “I’d better go check on the phone lines.” He glanced out at the driveway where there were several other vehicles parking. “And see if Luke can handle crowd control.”

The first note sounded and Jack rushed into the house.

Crystal slipped her hand into Jeremy’s and squeezed. “This was really sweet of them,” she whispered.

He nodded, wondering if she realized how desperate he was to know what kind of calls were coming in right now. But he had to admit to himself that he was better off out here being distracted instead of inside, driving himself crazy each time the phone rang.

He saw Luke slip out the door and hurry out to the driveway, not making eye contact with the group surrounding the porch. Jeremy grinned. In his midtwenties and a confirmed bachelor, Crystal’s brother probably thought there were way too many women and children around for comfort.

Still smiling, Jeremy brought his attention back to the show. The kids and their song reminded him of the Von Trapp family from
The Sound of Music.
Except there were twice as many children. His heart squeezed. The little one on the end looked a little like Beka when she smiled.

When the song was over, everyone clapped, including Mrs. Westwood and Mrs. Donovan, along with a few other women who were now standing on the porch, most of them holding covered dishes of some kind.

The children bowed and curtsied, which almost caused a girl in braids to drop her bass guitar, but she recovered in time to start another song. He tensed. What if there was a phone tip but they were waiting for the music to be over before they told him?

Crystal leaned toward him as if she were straightening his collar. “If there’s anything, they’ll come tell you immediately.”

He relaxed. She was right.

When the third song ended and the applause was over, Claire Mitchum directed all the performers back into the vans.

Jeremy stood and pulled Crystal to her feet. Still holding hands, they walked over to where the children were loading their instruments.

“Y’all did a great job.” Crystal’s smile lit up her face. Jeremy could tell she was genuinely happy they’d come.

And truthfully, he was, too. “Thanks for taking my mind off things for a bit.”

The little girl he’d noticed earlier tugged on his shirt.

He looked down at her and smiled. “Yes?”

“When your Beka comes home, can she come play with me?”

His breath caught in his throat. “I bet she’d love that.”

A woman he assumed was her mother put her hand on the girl’s head. “We’ll check back with Mr. Buchanan about that when Beka gets home, okay, Hannah?”

Hannah nodded and skipped off to the van.

“Did you call the whole flower club?” he heard Mrs. Donovan say to Mrs. Westwood as he and Crystal walked back up on the porch.

“Just to let them know why we wouldn’t be having cake for the meeting. How was I supposed to know that Eleanor would beat us over here with her banana nut bread?”

“Or that everyone else would follow our lead?” Mrs. Donovan muttered.

Crystal glanced at him. Apparently reading the panic on his face, she sprang into action. “Thank you all so much for coming.” She took command of the porch like it was a stage. “I know our hearts all ache for Jeremy today, and it was so sweet of y’all to come out and offer him your support.” Still holding his hand, she gently maneuvered Jeremy toward the house door. “He’s needed inside right now, but I’ll get someone to help me take the dishes into the kitchen and...” He saw her eyes light on Luke as he came up the steps. Jeremy could hear Crystal’s sigh of relief, but she covered it well. “Luke, if I get a notebook from inside, would you mind writing down everyone who is here and what they brought?”

Luke looked a little confused. “You want me to take names?” Jeremy heard him ask before he stepped inside and shut the door.

Elyse looked up from the phone when he walked in. She shook her head.

“Thank you for calling.” She hung up. “Another well-wisher.”

“We’re running five to one, well-wishers,” Rachel grumbled beside her. “And the tips aren’t even logical. People are just desperate to help.”

Jeremy glanced at Jack. “Not anything worth checking out so far?”

Jack shook his head. “Sorry, man.”

Crystal walked in carrying two cakes and saved him from having to lie and say it was okay.

She bustled into the kitchen and came back out with a notebook and a pen. On the way out the door, she brushed Jeremy’s shoulder with her hand. “It’s still a couple of hours until noon. No giving up.”

He nodded, but he could hardly stand to look at Elyse and Rachel or Jack and the other deputy. He knew they couldn’t help it, but the pity in their eyes made him feel like he was going to suffocate. Especially when the phone didn’t ring as Crystal made trip after trip into the kitchen with food.

Twenty minutes later, Crystal came in with a casserole. She looked around at the gloomy bunch. “This is the last of the food. So far. It looks like one more car is coming up the lane.” She disappeared into the kitchen for a second then hurried back out the front door.

Jeremy brushed his hand over his face and sank down on the couch. He dreaded going into the kitchen. Bringing food was kind, but in a way it reminded him of funerals and wakes. He shuddered.

The front door opened again, and he glanced up to see Crystal standing there, her face white.

He jumped to his feet. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She looked over at Jack as if trying to communicate something without Jeremy seeing her.

His heart pounding, Jeremy sprang to his feet and looked at the deputy and back to Crystal. “No secrets in this room. Tell me what’s going on. Did something come over the deputy’s radio?”

Crystal shook her head, her eyes wide. “There’s a woman out here who says she’s from Memphis and has information about Beka. But she’ll only talk to you.”

He darted for the door, but a hand clasped around each of his arms. “Whoa there, Jeremy. Let’s slow down a minute.” Jack’s manner was easy, but his hands were like iron bands. “Think of all the crazies that have called in,” he said, next to Jeremy’s ear. “You can’t just go out there and believe everything she says.”

Jeremy stopped struggling and studied Crystal’s face. “Does she look like a crazy?”

Crystal shook her head. “She’s really young. Maybe early twenties. And she just looks scared. For some reason I think Luke trusts her.”

Jack let go of Jeremy. “We’ll go together, okay?”

Jeremy nodded.

Jack glanced back over his shoulder and motioned for the other deputy to follow.

Outside on the porch, Luke had laid his notebook on the table and was sitting beside a crying girl on the double rocker, talking softly to her. He looked up when they came out.

The girl looked up, too, her hazel eyes wide and frightened. “Please don’t freak out. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Even though his heart was pounding like a sledgehammer, Jeremy squatted down next to her as if she were a skittish calf. He even held his hand out toward her. “It’s going to be okay. What’s going on?”

She swiped her eyes with the unbuttoned cuff of a denim shirt. “You’re so nice. Lindsey told me that you were terrible.”