by Sable Hunter
The idea hit Clint in the middle. “I don’t want you to go through anymore surgery.”
She shrugged. “The worst part was that I was on my own. No real support system. With you, it wouldn’t be so bad.” A moment of silence lingered. “Don’t you want me to have the reconstruction?”
Clint held her gaze. “Only if you want to. Don’t do it for me. I like you just the way you are.”
His words were like a healing balm to her soul. “I think I want to. It won’t restore sensation, but I’ll be more comfortable looking in the mirror and…you’ll like it after it’s done, I bet.”
“I’m sure I will, but I like you just fine right now.” He rose to kiss her. “You’ve made me happier than I ever hoped to be. I honestly don’t want anything to change.”
Jensen tried to read between the lines as he spoke. She knew he’d once said he loved her, and that was wonderful. Those words were used all the time and they meant many different things to many people. She didn’t expect forever from Clint. Heck, she wasn’t sure she had forever to offer.
“Sit down. Your omelet is getting cold.”
“Oh, yea.” She wrinkled her nose at him. “My mind is jumping from one thing to another.”
Buzz. Buzz.
“Your phone or mine?” he asked.
“Yours.” As she ate, she tossed his cell to him from where it lay on her end of the table. “It’s Joseph.”
Jensen watched his face as he talked. She could tell from his end of the conversation that they were being sent on another SAR mission. Once he ended the call, he turned to her. “Can you get away?”
“Yea, I just have to call Scott and Wilma. What’s up?”
As they both headed back to the bedroom to change out of work clothes, he told her, “We don’t have to go all the way to Montana, this time the mission is closer to home. Just this side of El Paso. A little girl with Downs syndrome wandered away from her mother at a rest stop on the Transmountain Highway in the Franklin Mountains State Park. She’s only ten.”
“Oh, gracious. A child. We need to hurry.”
…No more than an hour later, they were on the Duke’s plane flying from Central Texas to West Texas with all the gear Joseph thought they might need. The five-hundred eighty-mile distance would’ve taken eight hours to drive but would take only an hour and a half to fly.
“You were certainly chummy with the pilot. What did he mean that he hoped you’d reconsider?”
Jensen sat beside Clint, staring at a map of the Franklin Mountains. She’d spent the last couple of hours reading up on everything about the case and the area to determine what they might expect. “He asked me out on a date on the flight back from Montana a few weeks ago.”
“What did you say?”
Staring at him, Jensen answered with a deadpan voice. “We’ve been seeing one another almost every night. Haven’t you noticed?”
“Stop it.” He grabbed the map from her hands. “Tell me what we’re up against.”
“The little girl, Dulce Elena, walked off from her mother while they were having a picnic. They’ve searched a good size area, with no luck.”
“She can’t have gotten far.”
“I wouldn’t think so. It gets so hot during the day there and she doesn’t have access to water. Also, there are rattlesnakes and mountain lions prowling about.”
“Yea, this is an emergency for sure.”
Once they arrived at the airport, Clint picked up the vehicle Joseph had reserved for them and they sped to the locale as quickly as possible. The mountains they drove through were nothing like the ones in Glacier National Park, but in their own way they were intimidating. Rocky. Dry. Desolate. Red tinted rocks with cactus covered slopes.
When they drew near the location where Dulce was last seen, rescue vehicles lined the road. EMTs, a cop car, and a fire truck were all parked and ready to do their part. After finding a safe spot to get off the road, Clint stopped the vehicle and put on the parking brake. Just as soon as their feet were on the ground, they started unloading equipment. “You go talk to the person in charge and see if they know anything new.”
“Okay,” Jensen agreed. “I’ll see what I can find out.” She hurried over to the cop who turned out to be the county sheriff, Hal Rigby. “Hello, Sheriff, my name is Jensen Mistretta with Hill Country Search and Rescue. Can you tell me what’s going on?”
At that moment, a woman came running up. She was crying. “Help my little girl, please.”
As Jensen placed an arm around the woman, the sheriff explained that the child had crossed the barrier behind the picnic area and fallen off a ledge into a hundred-foot-deep ravine. One of the firemen had rappelled a short distance down the side of the cliff but couldn’t find the little girl.
“She’s gone! She’s lost!”
Sheriff Rigby asked one of the firemen to take the mother to the ambulance and get her some water. “The only thing we can determine is that she wandered off. Our big worry is the precarious places down there, other spots where she could step on a rock and slide even further down.”
“What’s she wearing?” Jensen asked, hoping it was a bright color and easy to spot in this all-brown landscape.
“Blue jeans, a pink top, and pink tennis shoes. A pink bow in her hair too, the mother thinks.”
“All right. Does she speak English?”
“Yes, she does. We need to locate her before dark, or we’ll have to wait until tomorrow to continue.”
“No, we’ll find her if it takes all night.”
“Thanks, we appreciate the help.” The sheriff offered Jensen a radio. “Let us know the moment you find something.”
“Will do.” Jensen headed off to meet up with Clint. “Are you ready?”
“Yea, what’s the plan?”
“We need to head down here and start looking. They think she fell or slid down into the ravine. Injuries are unknown. The firemen who made it partway down the cliff saw no sign of her. We have no way of knowing which direction she might have gone. We’ll just have to track her and watch for clues.”
“Here, let’s hook up.” He grinned at her as he attached a rope around her waist. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“I don’t want to be lost,” she assured him, looking at her sweet man with affection. “She’s wearing pink, Clint. So, keep your eyes open.”
“Will do.” He helped Jensen hoist her backpack. “Follow me, cutie pie.”
“I’m right behind you.”
Giving a wave to the people who watched from behind the terra cotta concrete barrier, Jensen and Clint began to climb carefully down. Several times they had to attach their rope to a boulder and take their time to avoid losing control of the descent. When they came to the bottom of the cliff, they could see a disturbed area of the ground. He bent down to look, to see if he could observe anything. “Is this a partial footprint?”
“I believe it is. Oh, God, is that a spot of blood?”
“She probably scraped her knee or elbow on a rock.” He hoped that was all that was wrong.
While Clint checked a few yards to the left, Jensen walked a few feet to the right. “This way, Clint,” she shouted “I found another footprint. Dulce! Dulce! We’re here to help you!”
When there was no answering call, Clint gathered up the rope and they began a trek toward the west. “Watch where you step,” he told her. “Remember, there could be snakes.”
“I’d rather run into a bear any day.”
He chuckled. “Been there, done that. Don’t want to do it again.”
As they descended deeper into the canyon, the terrain flattened out somewhat. The trail became more walkable, but rocks lay thicker on the ground. There was no dirt where footprints could be distinguished. “I see water down below.”
Jensen peered in the direction he was pointing. “There are several creeks and springs, nothing very deep though. Dulce! Dulce! Can you hear me?”
They listened carefully, but all they could hear was a slig
ht echo. “Let’s head toward the water. She might’ve gone in that direction, especially if she was thirsty.”
“True. Plus, that’s the path of least resistance and most people will choose to go that way, especially a child.” Jensen paused to take inventory of their surroundings. “There are dozens of caves, Clint. We need to check each one of them.”
“Okay. Let’s put our gear down, we can work faster.” He helped her off with her pack and placed it next to his. For the next half hour, they entered into each cave to make sure the small girl had not crawled inside one to rest.
“Dulce! Are you here?” Jensen called again to no avail. Rubbing her arms, she muttered, “The temperature is dropping. It’s going to be dark soon.”
“Hold up.” Clint returned to their packs and picked them up. “Joseph included some powerful headlamps. Let me find them and we’ll be able to continue tracking.”
Once he located the lamps, they continued their search. Knowing Jensen and her research, Clint asked her a question, “What do you know about the history of this spot?”
“This was Indian territory, of course, and there are many pictographs in the caves and rocky ledges. Smuggler’s Pass is nearby where cattle rustlers would move cattle from ranches through Fusselman Canyon and on to the Rio Grande Bosque and into Mexico. There’s also a lost mine somewhere close called the Lost Padre Mine. The tale goes that some 5000 silver bars, over 4000 gold ignots, nine burro loads of jewels, and four priceless Aztec codices were hidden in the deep shaft by an explorer named Juan de Onate.”
“Juan de Onate? What about the lost padre?”
“I don’t what happened to him.”
Clint’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t think the lost padre is lost any more.”
“Why do you say that?”
Clint pointed to a trail about fifty feet down the side of the mountain below them. “Doesn’t that old man look like he could be our lost padre?”
Jensen stared with open mouth as she witnessed a monk-like figure moving slowly down the path leading a burro. The old man wore a long, tattered robe with a rope tied around his waist. “Good gracious. That just can’t be!”
“What can’t it be? It’s an old dude and his donkey.”
Jensen grabbed Clint’s arm. “The Transmountain Highway is supposed to be haunted by a monk and his burro. They’re supposed to be seen on the road fairly frequently.”
“Well, there you go. He’s the Lost Padre.”
“I don’t think the two legends are about the same guy.”
“Do you know that for sure?”
“No.”
“Well, there you have it.” He pointed at the old man who kept looking back at them as he moved along with his burro. “He’s the lost padre.”
“Stop teasing. Why does he keep looking at us?” she asked, a bit creeped out.
“I think he wants us to follow him.” Clint enjoyed Jensen clinging to his arm.
“Do you think he’s seen Dulce?” She put her hand to her mouth. “Hey, Sir! Have you seen a little girl down here?”
The man said nothing, he just kept moving slowly, looking back at them every few feet.
“Come on.” Clint held Jensen’s hand. “Let’s climb down to his level. This looks like a fairly safe spot.” Together, they clambered down. Jensen lost her footing and almost fell, but Clint caught her.
Once they were on the same path as the monk, Clint urged Jensen to pick up her pace in hopes of catching up to the old man, but no matter their gait, the distance between them remained the same.
“We’re going too fast. We’re not searching for tracks.”
“We can backtrack.” Clint was intrigued. “Something tells me…”
At that moment, the eerie pair leading them stopped walking and the monk gave Clint and Jensen one last long look…just before he and his animal faded from sight.
“What in the freaking world?” Jensen exclaimed, grabbing onto Clint with both hands.
“Come on.” Clint pulled her forward, an unexplainable hunch driving him to check closer. They hurried to the very place where the ghostly monk and burro had disappeared into thin air. “Look!”
Jensen looked where Clint was pointing. “Dulce!” she exclaimed. About a dozen yards below them, lying on a ledge was the small child.
“Here, let’s tie this rope to that rock and I’ll go down to get her.”
Jensen hurried, helping him. “I hope she’s okay.”
In a few minutes, Clint called back up to her. “She’s awake and scared.” I’m giving her water. “I see scratches and scrapes, but nothing is broken.”
“Oh, wonderful.” Jensen took out the radio to inform the Sheriff that Dulce was safe. She smiled as she heard the mother’s jubilant cry at the news. Once that task was completed, she watched with pride and adoration as Clint brought the little girl up on his shoulders. “You sure make a handsome hero.”
“I’ll fight your battles any day, gorgeous.” The smile he gave her was priceless and Jensen believed every word he said.
* * *
“Who keeps calling you?” Libby asked as she put on a pot of potatoes on the stove to boil.
“I don’t know. It’s a number I don’t recognize. If they were calling my work phone, it’d be different, but I don’t answer those kinds of calls on my personal cell.” Jensen walked around the dining table, placing a napkin artfully on top of each plate. “How are you feeling?” she asked, remembering Libby had complained of being tired a couple of times in the past weeks.
“Oh…a little better, I guess. My annual check-up is coming up. I always dread it, you know.” Her somber tone turned to happy surprise as her twin boys came rushing through the kitchen causing her to twirl around to avoid a collision. “Slow down before you fall down on this hard tile floor. Is something after you?”
“Daddy is after us!” Colt yelled as he and his brother scampered wildly ahead of a growling Aron who was coming behind them with arms waving. “He’s a bear!”
“A teddy bear,” Libby muttered affectionately as she flagged a dishtowel at her husband as he barreled past.
Jensen smiled to see Clint watching the spectacle from the door leading to the dining room. He looked so happy and peaceful; her heart swelled at the sight.
“Okay. Okay. All of you guys out of the kitchen, we’ll call you when dinner is ready.”
As soon as Aron herded the boys back to the living room, Libby gave Jensen the eye. “You two look happy. When’s the wedding?”
“Oh. No.” Jensen blushed a bit. “It’s not like that.”
“Oh, really? What’s it like?” Libby asked with curiosity.
“Well, you know – Clint’s not ready to settle down.”
“Did he say that?”
“Well…no. We just haven’t discussed the future.” Jensen felt a bit guilty as she said so. Clint did keep making references to things he wanted to do with her, places he wanted to go. When he talked about anything, she was usually included in his plans.
“I’m sure you will. You’re just what Clint needs.”
Jensen wasn’t so sure about that. “I don’t know,” she mused with a wistful look on her face, “he could do anything. Be with anyone.”
“He wants to be with you. When I saw him when I visited Bethany in the hospital, he actually asked me if I thought you liked him.” She put the word liked in air quotes. “I swear, he was like an insecure teenage boy. He is totally bonkers over you. As you are over him – right?”
Jensen couldn’t explain why she was so hesitant to admit how she felt about Clint. “I am very fond of him.” Understatement. She was head over heels in love with him. Part of her was just afraid to put it into words, like doing so would jinx everything. “Let me ask you something.”
“Sure.” Libby handed her a bowl. “You can make the salad while I ice the cake.”
Jensen sat on a stool to tear the lettuce and slice the tomatoes. “I’m a little overwhelmed at the size of the McCoy
/Wilder family and how close they all are. How do you cope?”
Libby shrugged. “I love it. There’s always something going on and no one ever has to face a problem alone. By the way, I’m sorry I didn’t have dinner ready. I intended to, but I had a conference call with a couple of suppliers and lost track of time.”
“Suppliers?” Jensen looked around the kitchen. “I know the McCoys are all big eaters, but you have suppliers to keep the pantry stocked?”
“No.” Libby laughed. “I have a line of purses. It’s not a huge operation, but it makes me happy.”
Jensen’s eyes widened. “You are the Libby behind Libby’s Creations?” She picked up her bag and held it in the air.
“Yea.” Libby pointed and laughed. “I started to say something. That happens to be one of my favorite designs.”
“I had no idea. Wow.” Jensen ran her hand over the finely crafted bag. “How do you find the time?”
“I have a ton of help. Aron is good with the boys. In addition, as I was saying about the family, I don’t run this household alone. This is home base for the whole Tebow bunch. Sure, they’re all in and out, but when something needs to be done, there’s always someone to lend a helping hand.”
“That’s good. Truthfully, I could’ve used a sister or brother to help with my parents. I was the sole caregiver and decision maker. How smooth did the transition go – when Gillian’s branch of the family was introduced?” she asked, then put two fingers over my mouth. “It’s none of my business really.”
Libby frowned. “I fully expect for you to be part of this family sooner rather than later – so, ask away. In answer to your question…” She put her hand out and tilted it back and forth. “A little rocky. I call it growing pains. We went through the same thing when Christian’s branch of the family came to light. It’s a huge change, but we’ve rolled with it. That’s one thing about these McCoy’s, their capacity to love is almost endless.
“How’s it coming, ladies?” Aron spoke from the dining room. “I’m losing control of the mini-Me’s.”
Libby giggled. “Corral them for about ten more minutes while I mash the potatoes. The roast is ready, and Jensen is almost through with the salad. How’s Clint holding up out there?”