Rachel stopped, her booted feet settling into the soggy leaves on the ground. Had they been found out? Her adrenaline surged and she tipped up her head and listened. “It sounds like a little kid crying,” Rachel said.
Sam turned his face up to hers, his eyes glowing. “A kid like me?”
“You stay here, Sam. Let me check it out.” She’d heard of cougars sounding like a child, but this sounded like no panther she’d ever heard. Just to be safe, she grabbed the ax as she passed the woodshed. Stepping cautiously toward the sound, she hefted the ax to her shoulder.
She caught her breath as the sound came again. That was no wild animal; it was a child. A crying child. She pushed aside the brush and peered into the tangle of shrubs then stepped into the fir grove. It was darker here than in her clearing but still bright enough to see the two children who sat on the ground. The little girl was weeping, her arms around a smaller child, a boy. Her woebegone face was streaked with mud, and she rocked back and forth, shudders wracking her small frame.
“I’m sorry, Timmy. It was my fault,” the girl sobbed. “Now you’re sick, and it’s all my fault.”
Rachel looked around warily until she was sure there was no danger of discovery. Could these children possibly be alone this far from town? “Hello,” she said, stepping near the children. “What’s your name, little girl?”
At the sound of her voice, the little girl whipped her head around and stared up at Rachel through saucer eyes. Twigs and debris matted her dark curls. She looked about seven or eight.
Rachel saw the fear in the child’s face and realized how frightening she must seem to the children, a fifty-year-old woman with braided gray hair topped with an old leather fedora.
“It’s all right; I’m not as mean as I look.” Rachel stepped closer. “Is this your brother?”
The little girl wiped her face and nodded. “His name is Timmy, and he needs his shot. I’m Emily. Daddy is going to be awfully mad at me.” Her voice was doleful. “We just wanted to see the raccoons.”
“I’m sure your daddy will be too glad to be angry when he gets you home safe and sound.” Rachel surveyed the little boy and frowned. He looked about Sam’s age, maybe four or five. She needed to get him inside where she could see him better.
She slid her bony arms under the little boy and lifted him up. Heat radiated off him like hot coals, and he shook like the few leaves still clinging to the trees above her head. She hoped he was as tenacious. His sister had mentioned a shot. Could he be diabetic? Rachel’s nurse’s training kicked in, and she leaned forward and sniffed. A fruity scent issued from his open mouth, and she winced. Yep. Poor kid. She had no insulin here, and town was miles away.
“Come with me,” she told Emily. “We’ll get you something to eat and drink.” Then she had to get them out of here. Without drawing attention to herself. The last thing she needed was the law on her tail.
Emily followed her into the clearing. “Is that your house? It’s sure little.”
“It suits us,” Rachel said shortly.
Sam was still standing where she’d left him. Motionless, he watched her come toward him. His gaze darted from her and the child she carried to the little girl who followed them.
“Sammy, open the door for me,” she said. He limped to the cabin and fumbled at the latch then swung the door open. He held it wide while Rachel carried the little boy inside.
The cabin wasn’t much, but it had been home for over a year. Only one room, but they made do. Sam’s cot was pushed up against one wall, the colorful log cabin quilt she’d made for him now faded but still serviceable. A battered table, four chairs, and a braided rug, faded and worn, completed the furnishings.
It was all scrupulously clean. She might live in the back of beyond, but that was no reason for slovenliness. Laying the little boy on the bed, she studied him. His face was flushed beneath the numerous scratches, and his breathing was labored. This little guy needed his insulin, now. Looking at the sunken areas under his eyes, Rachel saw he was dehydrated as well. A saline IV would come in handy, but that wasn’t something Rachel kept on hand.
“There’s a pitcher of water on the table,” she told Emily. “Pour some water for you and the lad. I’ll fix you a peanut butter sandwich, and we’ll get you back to that daddy of yours.”
Emily looked weary, but she stepped to the table and poured two cups of water. She drank thirstily from her cup, but Timmy turned his head and closed his eyes when Rachel offered him a drink.
As quickly as she could, Rachel slathered some peanut butter on slices of homemade bread. The law would be searching for these kids, and she had to get them out of here before the rangers found her cabin. Timmy refused to eat, and Rachel waited until Emily finished her sandwich. “You ready to go back to town?”
The little girl didn’t answer. She was too busy inspecting Sam. The food and drink had calmed her, and her eyes were inquisitive. “Are you his grandma?” Emily gave Sam a tentative smile.
Rachel searched for an answer. “I’m his mother,” she said, struggling against the irritation she felt at the girl’s assumption. It wasn’t only twenty-year-olds who were blessed to be mothers. She’d seen plenty of women who’d waited until later in life to have children. Her own grandmother had given birth to her last child at fifty-two. Thank goodness Sam wasn’t as inquisitive as this child.
Emily sidled closer to Sam. “What’s your name?”
Sam ducked his head and didn’t answer.
“He’s shy,” Rachel said. She fought the panic clawing at her belly. All these questions! She could only hope the kids would remember little of what they saw here. Luckily the stocking cap still covered Sam’s hair. The children wouldn’t have much of a description.
“Sammy, you hop into your pajamas, and I’ll be back soon.”
“I want to go too.” Sam stared up at her, his green eyes pleading.
“You’re not strong enough, Sam. I’ll have to carry Timmy—I can’t carry you too.” He knew to stay inside and keep the door latched until she came back. She’d had to leave him often over the past months.
Sam’s lower lip trembled, but he didn’t argue with her. It was no wonder the poor little guy wanted to go along. These children were the first contact he’d had with other people in months. Rachel gnawed her lip. She wished she could do better by him. But sometimes you just had to play the hand you were dealt. He would learn soon enough how life threw you punches and you had to stiffen your backbone and fight back, just as she did.
Giving Sam a little push, she went toward the little boy. “I’ll be back soon. You rest.”
Sam nodded and watched with wistful eyes as she picked up Timmy then took Emily’s hand and led her out the door. “Wait!” he cried suddenly. He limped toward them and thrust his beloved stuffed koala bear in the little boy’s hand.
Rachel frowned. “You don’t want to do that, Sam.” The kid had few enough toys. He didn’t need to be giving them away to strangers. From the looks of these two, they were middle-class and probably had bedrooms full of toys.
Sam’s lip protruded farther. “I want to give it to him,” he said.
Rachel shrugged. “Just don’t come crying to me tonight when you miss it.”
“His name is Pooky,” Sam said, ducking his head.
The little girl took the bear from her brother’s unresponsive hand and cradled it in her arm. She gave Sam a brilliant smile. “Thanks. I’ll give it to Timmy when we get home.” She fumbled in her jeans pocket and pulled out a yo-yo. “Here, you can have this.”
Sam stared at the yo-yo then back up at Emily.
“You play with it like this.” Emily took the toy back, slipped the string over her finger, and threw it. Sam’s eyes grew wider as the yo-yo returned to her hand. “Here, you try it.” She thrust it back into his hand and showed him how to put the string on his finger. He awkwardly tried to
throw it, but it only came partway back.
“You’ll get the hang of it,” she told him. “Just practice. Thanks for the bear.” She leaned over and kissed Sam on the cheek. With Pooky in her hand, she scampered out the door behind Rachel.
Carrying Timmy, Rachel led Emily across the yard and entered the forest. Stumbling over branches and brambles, they wound their way through the thick trees. Rachel’s back ached from the little boy’s weight.
Over an hour later, Rachel set Timmy down to rest her arms then stood and stretched. The road wasn’t far now, another fifteen minutes maybe. It was still light enough to see. She could park them by the side of the road, and someone would be along shortly. It was the best she could do.
Leaning down to retrieve her burden, she froze at the sound of voices. People—more than one. And dogs. That could be trouble. She set Timmy back on the forest floor.
“You’re safe now, kids,” she said hastily. “I’ve gotta go.”
“Don’t leave us!” Emily scrabbled for her hand, but Rachel evaded her, cursing herself for ever getting involved. She hoped she didn’t regret this day, but she was a sucker for kids.
Flipping her braid over one shoulder, Rachel took off at a run. “You’ll be okay,” she called behind her. “There are people coming. They’re probably looking for you.” The safety of the forest beckoned her, and she plunged into its sheltering depths. Emily’s wails followed her.
Kade’s temper was short as he organized the teams and finally got them on their way. The K-9 team he’d worked with before in Yellowstone had represented the height of ineptitude, scattering evidence and leading searchers in the wrong direction. He knew all teams were not that bad—the media reported plenty of success stories—but this search was his responsibility, and those kids were depending on him. Bree Nicholls had deliberately disobeyed his orders. Worse, the sheriff had made it clear his sister-in-law was to be allowed to have her own way. Typical of the nepotism in a small town like Rock Harbor.
He saw the mayor talking on a walkie-talkie and stalked her way. “Anything?”
Hilary clicked off the device. “None of the dogs has picked up the scent yet,” she said.
Kade leaned against the truck. “I thought this was a hotshot K-9 team.”
“Samson has been written up in more magazines than you can count,” Hilary said. “But even he isn’t perfect. They still haven’t found the plane that went down with my brother and their son.”
An awkward silence passed between them. “Your family issues are none of my business,” Kade said. “But I don’t like the way Bree Nicholls disobeyed my orders and put those kids in jeopardy.”
“She knows what she’s doing,” Hilary said. “You haven’t been here long, but she and Samson have found quite a few lost campers since she and Rob moved here.”
Before Kade could reply, a familiar red car slid to a halt in a cloud of dust. The door on the battered Plymouth spilled open, and his sister, Lauri, got out, her face its usual mask of petulance. He’d often thought of taking her picture and showing her that expression. Would she want her face to take on those lines for the rest of her life? He hadn’t done it, because he knew it would just make her mad. Everything was his fault these days.
“We’ve already missed the movies,” she said with her hands on her hips. Her gaze traveled to the two young rangers standing near the path to the pavilion. Straightening at their looks of interest, she preened and gave them a sultry smile.
Kade gritted his teeth. She was way too young to be flirting like that. At sixteen, his sister was a budding Lolita, using the power of her beauty in ways he probably didn’t want to know about. “What are you doing here?” he asked abruptly.
Lauri turned from her silent flirtation with the rangers and gave her brother a smoldering glare. “You didn’t even phone. If I hadn’t called headquarters, I’d still be wondering where you were.”
“I should have called, but things developed too fast for me to remember. There are two children lost in the woods, and one of them is sick. I forgot all about the movies. Sorry, kid.”
“Don’t call me ‘kid’!” Lauri tossed her head again. “I’m sick and tired of always taking second place to your job. If you don’t want me around, just say so. I could go stay with Grandma and Grandpa.”
Kade sighed, weariness settling over him like a suffocating wave from Lake Superior. “We’ve been over all that, Lauri. You are not going to our grandparents. You’d run over them inside a week. Besides, I promised Mom you’d finish school here, and I intend to keep my promise.”
Lauri gave him a calculated look far too mature for a sixteen-year-old. Where did she get that manner? He wanted her to enjoy her remaining years of school, to be a normal teenager, but he didn’t know how to ensure that, how to reach the vulnerable child he still sometimes glimpsed in her eyes. She refused to go to youth group at church. It was all he could do to get her to go to church at all.
“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “I’ll see you later.” She slung her long legs under the wheel and slammed the car door shut.
“Lauri, come back here!” he yelled. Her face set as though she didn’t hear, she tore off down the road, dust spitting from the tires. He clenched his jaw.
“Why don’t we drive along the access road?” Hilary asked. “It would be better than sitting around here doing nothing.”
Kade nodded, thankful the mayor had the tact to ignore Lauri’s little scene. He felt the need to be doing something. Otherwise, he might go find his sister and strangle her. He opened the truck door for the mayor then slammed it shut and got in on his side. He started the truck and drove into the dark forest.
Hilary cleared her throat. “Kids can be a trial, can’t they? I was a lot like Lauri at that age. It was an admirable thing to take on her care.”
“I’m regretting it daily,” he said grimly. The mayor’s sympathy surprised Kade. In their few encounters, he’d always thought her all business. “You have any kids?”
She turned to look out the window. “Not yet.”
That was a stupid question and clearly none of his business. When would he learn to keep his mouth shut? The radio attached to his belt crackled to life.
“Ranger station, come in.” Bree’s voice cut out then surged stronger. “We’ve found them, and I’m sending up a flare. We’re in sector four.”
Kade grabbed the radio. “Ten-four. What kind of shape are they in?” Only a crackle of the radio answered his question, then a light shot from the forest and illuminated an area to their left. He gunned the truck down the rutted track. Hilary clung to the door as the truck pitched from side to side. He tossed the radio to her.
“Call an ambulance!” When the truck finished grinding to a halt beneath the spreading light, he jumped from the vehicle, grabbed his first-aid kit from the back, and ran toward the cluster of people huddled at the base of a giant sycamore.
Bree and Naomi were kneeling beside the two children. The little girl’s face was streaked with mud, and tears had left blotches on her face. She held her younger brother’s hand. Kade’s gaze dropped to the little boy cradled in Bree’s arms, and his heart sank at his condition. Even in the fading twilight, Kade could see him shaking. The sour smell of vomit lingered in the air, which didn’t bode well.
“Timmy is sick,” Emily sobbed. “Is he going to die?”
“We just gave him his shot,” Bree said. She pulled the little boy closer to her and wrapped her coat around him. Timmy visibly relaxed at her tender touch. He turned his face into her chest and sighed.
Bree appeared oblivious to everything but Timmy, and Kade wondered if holding the little boy brought back memories of her own loss.
Kade opened his canteen and knelt beside the children. He poured a few drops of water into Timmy’s open mouth. The little boy coughed but managed to swallow it, then Kade gave Emily a drink too. Run
ning his hands over their arms and legs, he was relieved to find nothing broken.
“Just insect bites,” he said. “They seem to be all right. But we need to get them to a hospital. The mayor is calling the ambulance.”
“I already did,” Naomi said. “It should be here any minute.”
Kade whipped off the jacket of his uniform and knelt beside Bree. He wrapped the jacket around Emily like a blanket. “The ambulance won’t get here any too soon. I think we’d better run them to the hospital in my truck. Some of you will have to ride in the back of the pickup or wait for the ambulance.” He took Timmy from Bree and moved toward the road without waiting for an answer. Timmy’s head lolled against Kade’s chest, and his small feet dangled from the folds of the coat. Kade didn’t like the boy’s limpness.
Bree took Emily’s hand, and they started toward the dirt access road. As they reached the road, Kade heard the shrill wail of the ambulance in the distance. Relief left him almost lightheaded. Timmy and Emily would soon be under medical care. Moments later the flashing lights came into sight, followed by the headlamps of two other vehicles.
Putting her radio away, the mayor came toward them. She reached out a hand and touched Timmy’s hair. “You’re safe now, sweetheart.” She stroked his face then reached down and touched Emily’s head. “You’re both going to be just fine.”
Emily took her hand, and Hilary’s face softened. Kade turned away from the naked longing in Hilary’s face. He felt he was intruding on something private. His eyes connected with Bree’s, and he saw sorrow in them. All this motherly angst made him put his hackles up, and he tensed.
Kade signaled with his flashlight in case the driver had trouble seeing them in the twilight. Crunching gravel under the tires, the ambulance came to a stop and two paramedics leaped out. One of the men took Timmy from Kade and rushed him to the back of the ambulance. The second paramedic led Emily to the back as well. The other two vehicles stopped, and two men got out of the battered Dodge truck, its paint a dull orange-red in the light of the full moon.
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