by Kait Nolan
When the meal was finished, Flynn opened his fiddle case. He ran a hand over the instrument itself.
“I didn’t think you’d feel like playing,” Pru said softly.
“I don’t. But I can’t do anything else, and sound carries out here. So maybe she’ll hear it and be a little less afraid.” He brought the fiddle to his shoulder and drew the bow across its strings.
She didn’t recognize the song, but the melancholy melody seemed to reach right into her chest and squeeze her heart. He was playing his grief, much as Ari had done after Joan’s death. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she listened, even after he rolled into something more cheerful and lilting. He played for near to an hour, and by the time he put down his bow, tears streaked his face as well.
No one spoke as he put his fiddle away and climbed into the tent. Pru didn’t think she could sleep, but she wanted to curl around him and offer whatever comfort she could. They’d been in this together from the beginning. There was no reason that should change now.
She crawled in after him, zipping them into the deceptive privacy of the tent. In the opposite corner, he pulled off his shoes and slipped into the sleeping bag. On her side, Pru did the same. He faced away from her, and she cuddled up against his back, wrapping an arm around his waist. His body stayed stiff. Aching in body and soul, she pressed a kiss to his nape and whispered, “I love you.”
Flynn loosed a shuddering breath and curled his hand around the one she pressed to his chest. “I love you, too. Get some sleep, mo mhuirnín.”
She didn’t think she could, but the moment his body relaxed against hers, she was out like a light.
~*~
Flynn woke often, unused to the raucous sounds of the night creatures. Pru slept the sleep of the utterly exhausted, wrapped around him. How she took comfort in being close to him after everything that had happened, he didn’t know. How could she even bear to look at him? She’d trusted him. She and Ari both had, buying into his crazy plan instead of booting him out on his ass. The price for that trust was far too high. That singular thought circled through his head in the long stretch of absolute silence before the dawn. He couldn’t settle, but he’d cost Pru enough. He wasn’t about to rob her of the oblivion of sleep. So, he didn’t move until he heard the telltale zipper of one of their companions coming out of a tent.
“It’s morning,” he murmured.
With a little groan, Pru tightened her hold, burying her face against his back. He felt the moment she realized and remembered as her body went stiff. She took a long, slow breath and seemed to will herself to relax again.
“Did you sleep?”
“A little. You?”
“More than I expected.” She sat up running a hand through her hair and refastening her ponytail.
Chris was watering Dash as they emerged. “Morning.”
Clyde clambered out. “Christ, I’d give my eye teeth for coffee.”
“No coffee, but there are Cokes still in the cooler.”
“That’ll do.”
They each wandered off to find a private tree. By the time Flynn got back, Chris had already collapsed her tent and was sliding out the poles. He did the same, while Pru pulled out the energy bars sent for their breakfast. They ate and packed up camp quickly. Clyde radioed back to the command center at the house.
Xander came back quickly. “We’ve got a hundred volunteers waiting for orders. Chris, what’s your plan? Over.”
“Picking back up where we left off. Based on our position, I suggest splitting the volunteers down the middle and sending half out in an arc, coming at us from the opposite side of the ridge, starting at the highway. Seems unlikely Ari made it past that point yesterday.” She gave the coordinates.
“Done. There’s a whole other group searching town. I don’t think she went that way, but one way or the other, we’re gonna find her today. Over.”
“Copy. We’re headed out.” Chris gave the handset back to Clyde and pulled out the zip-top bag holding Ari’s socks. She opened the bag and held a sock for Dash to sniff. “This Ari. Find Ari. Find Ari, Dash.”
The dog circled their camp once, twice, three times, before setting off toward the south again. They all fell into step behind him. The path they followed led off the ridge and down toward a stream. They crossed it and followed it for a while. Flynn noted what he presumed were animal trails leading away from it here and there. Some of the tracks belonged to things he didn’t want to think about. There were predators in these mountains, and Ari had been alone last night.
“Most people, when they’re lost, will take the path of least resistance,” Chris explained. “They’re tired, often injured. A lot of people will follow water, reasoning that will eventually lead to civilization.”
Pru looked around the thick woods. “There’s definitely no civilization for miles yet. I’m not even quite sure where we are.”
Dash barked twice, his head shooting up and his ears pricking, before he bulleted off through the trees. Flynn didn’t stop to think, he just ran. Branches tore at his arms and face, as his long legs ate up the distance. When he broke free, he found Dash circling the base of a tree, rearing up on his hind legs and whining. High above, a platform nestled in the branches. As he neared, he saw the scatter of orange peels on the ground. He leapt for the rudimentary ladder nailed to the tree, already climbing before the others caught up.
“Ari?”
A sleepy voice answered. “Flynn?”
“Ari.” He made it to the top of the platform and saw her, sitting up from where she’d obviously been sleeping on her backpack. Her face and clothes were smudged with dirt, and there were scratches along her arms and face, but she was all in one piece. Safe.
Flynn hauled himself onto the platform in time for her to launch herself into his arms. She began to cry, hanging onto him like a limpet. “I’ve got you, cailín beag. I’ve got you.” He wrapped his arms tight around her and rocked, sending up prayers and promises to the Almighty in thanks for her safe deliverance.
“I heard you. Last night, I heard you playing.”
“Did you?”
“I wanted to answer back, but I didn’t have anything with me, and I climbed up here to keep away from any bears.”
“Bears?” he asked sharply. Thank God he hadn’t known about those. “Clever girl. What is this thing?”
“A hunter’s platform. They hide up here for deer hunting.”
“Flynn?” Pru called up.
“She’s here. She’s safe.” He held Ari for just a few moments longer before pulling back. “Here now. Let’s go down. Pru’s been worried about you.”
They climbed down together, Flynn going first in case she was unsteady. At the bottom of the ladder, Ari fell into Pru’s embrace and they both burst into tears.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Mom.”
Pru squeezed her tight. “It’s okay. I’m not mad, baby. I’m just so glad you’re okay.”
“But I’m not okay,” Ari wailed. “That awful woman said she was going to take me away. I don’t wanna go away. I wanna stay with you.”
Flynn’s throat went tight.
Pru’s arms tightened around her. “We’re gonna deal with that, and you can bet every single one of us is going to fight. But don’t you worry about that right now. Let’s just get you home.”
The crackle of the radio pulled Flynn’s attention from the reunion.
Chris was grinning as she made the call back to the command center. “We’ve found her. Repeat, we’ve found her. Ari’s coming home.”
Now he just had to find a way to make sure she stayed there.
Chapter Fifteen
BOTH HIS GIRLS WERE sleeping. Ari looked so small tucked up in their bed, with Pru curled around her. But she was safe. That was the important thing.
Flynn slipped out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind him. The volunteers had been fed and sent home. Someone else had dealt with their two guests, who’d refused to allow their rooms to be compe
d. Xander was down at the Sheriff’s Department, doing whatever it was he did at the end of a search. It was down to family in the house, and that meant it was time for him to face the music.
Pru’s sisters were gathered in the family room. They looked up as he strode in.
“They’re sleeping, finally.” He dropped heavily into a chair himself, as the past twenty-four hours caught up with him.
“You look like you ought to be sleeping, too,” Kennedy observed.
“Probably. But there are things to discuss, and I’d as soon do it without Pru. She’s been through enough.”
Athena poured him two fingers of whiskey from the bottle on the table and walked it over to him. “You’re probably gonna need this.”
“Thanks.” It was barely past noon, but Flynn knocked it back, relishing the way it burned through his exhaustion. Maybe, if he were lucky, it would dull the edge of his guilt.
“Is someone finally going to tell me what’s going on?” Maggie demanded.
Flynn had no idea what she’d been told before she flew out, but he didn’t see the sense in delaying the inevitable. “Ari ran away because she overheard her social worker telling us yesterday that she’s seeking an injunction to have her removed from the home.”
“What? Why? What possible justification could they have for that? Pru has been her constant since Mom died. Before that, even.”
“Because we got caught in a lie.”
“About what? Do you have some hideous skeleton in your closet that she uncovered during her background check?”
“No. Not like you’re thinking.” He eyed the bottle of whiskey and wished for more as fortification for this conversation. “Pru and I didn’t meet two years ago in Ireland. We met when I came here for Kennedy’s wedding.”
Maggie narrowed her eyes. “Why would you lie about that?”
“We were having an affair. Pru’s choice. And Ari’s new social worker caught us in a position that made our intimate involvement obvious. I knew it would look awful for her to be sleeping with a guest, so I lied and said I was her fiancé. And as an engagement after less than a week didn’t make her look any better, we came up with a different, more plausible backstory.”
“So, all of this the past two months has been one big cover up?”
“Yes. And no. I love your sister, and I love Ari. The only thing we lied about is when it started.”
“This is…I don’t even know what this is.” Maggie looked at her sisters. “You knew?”
“I had to sell the cover story,” Kennedy said.
“Logan told me they were engaged. I came to get to the bottom of it,” Athena said.
“So, I was the only one who didn’t know the truth?” The frost in her tone made it clear enough how she felt about that.
“That was my idea,” Athena admitted. “None of us were nuts about the deception, but you’d have flipped out worse.”
“You’re goddamned right I would. And with good reason. How could you endanger Ari like that? How could you not know you’d get caught? What the hell was Pru thinking?”
“That in a lifetime of doing things for everyone else, she’d spend five minutes doing something for herself.”
“And look where that got her.”
Temper flashed through him, hot and bright as a wildfire. Flynn didn’t move, but when he spoke, his voice was iron. “You won’t say one word to make her feel more guilt than she already does. She’s just been through absolute hell the past twenty-four hours, and there’s fresh hell to come because some arrogant, by-the-book woman cares more for her rules than what’s in the best interest of that child. You’re angry, and justifiably so, but take it out on me. She’s been through enough.”
He could see a matching flare of temper in Maggie’s eyes before she banked it. “I’m not out to berate her. I’m just trying to understand.”
How could they not see her as he did?
“All her life, she’s been the one you could all count on. Anticipating your needs, cleaning up your messes, being your rock. You’re all so used to it, you don’t even think about it or consider that she might need or appreciate someone doing the same for her.” He’d done that for her. He’d given her the foundation she hadn’t even known she’d needed. And it had been one of the most fulfilling things he’d ever done. “She’s the most selfless woman I’ve ever met, and she needs all of you. She’ll need you more before all of this is over.”
Kennedy frowned. “What are you getting at, Flynn?”
“This is my fault. All of it. And I intend to make that clear to the judge.”
“Clear how?” Athena asked.
He gave in to the urge and leaned over to pour himself more whiskey. What did it matter if they judged him now? “I’m going to tell him the truth. I am, apparently, the problem, so if the judge deems it necessary, if he’ll let Ari stay with Pru, I’ll go.” The mere thought was a knife to his gut. To leave the home he’d found here, leave the woman he loved, the child he adored. But what other choice did he have? What other means did he have left to fix what he’d broken?
“You’d walk away from her?” Maggie asked.
Flynn’s hand fisted so tight around the glass, he thought it would break. “If I have to.”
“She loves you,” Kennedy murmured.
“And I love her. But she can eventually get over me. She’ll never get over the loss of that child. And there is nowhere on earth better for Ari than with Pru. She’s more important than I am. It’s what she needs. So, if the judge will agree, I’ll do it.”
He took the shot, but it didn’t give him the numbness he wanted. It did nothing to dull the ache around his heart. He had a feeling after this was over, nothing ever would.
~*~
Because of the very public nature of Ari’s disappearing act, Lydia Coogan was able to get an audience with the judge within twenty-four hours of her return. It was only through the fast-talking of Robert Barth that Pru and any of the family were present for the occasion to present their side. It wasn’t enough time for Robert to work up any kind of a solid defense. They’d barely had time to fill him in on what was actually happening before making the collective pilgrimage to the courthouse, where they were nearly late for lack of parking.
“All rise for the Honorable Jefferson Moseley.”
As she got to her feet, arm tight around Ari, Pru felt the first glimmer of hope. Judge Moseley had been on the bench since God was a boy. He himself had presided over her own adoption and that of all her sisters. He knew their family. That had to count for something.
But Judge Moseley wasn’t looking friendly as he emerged from chambers and took the bench. His black hair had gone gray since Pru had last seen him. It stood out now in stark relief against his mahogany skin. His thick, salt and pepper brows drew down in a scowl over dark, serious eyes, and his mouth was a thin line of disapproval as he surveyed their group.
“Be seated.”
Ari leaned over and whispered. “He’s scary looking.”
“Shhh,” Pru murmured, giving her a squeeze.
Judge Moseley opened the file he’d carried in, presumably the complaint issued by Lydia Coogan. He read over it in silence before looking up at Pru and her sisters. “Well, this is certainly not what I’d expected to see you in my courtroom for.”
Pru resisted the urge to duck her head in shame.
“I was sorry to hear about your mother.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He shifted his attention to the social worker, who sat at the opposite counsel’s table on her own. “Miss Coogan, you’re new to DHS in this region, are you not?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’ve taken on much of the caseload of Mae Bradley, while she’s been out recovering from back surgery.”
“That is correct, sir.”
“Tell me why, exactly, you have dragged us all here today.”
“As I explained in my report—”
“I’m not interested in reading your full
report just now, Miss Coogan. I would like a succinct explanation why you are seeking an injunction to have the minor child, Ariana Rosas, removed from the care of Pru Reynolds and her fiancé Flynn Bohannon.”
Annoyance rippled across the woman’s features before she pulled herself together. “Quite simply, your honor, because they lied.”
“About what, exactly?”
“The nature of their relationship. They did not meet two years ago, as indicated by Mr. Bohannon’s exception to policy paperwork.”
Judge Moseley looked back to their table. “Is this true?”
“Yes, your honor.”
“If they lied on official paperwork, what else are they hiding? Add to that, the child ran away two days ago—”
“Because you were going to take me away!” Ari shouted. “I heard you.”
Judge Moseley looked at Ari and his expression softened a fraction. “You heard her?”
Ari hunched back against Pru. “I was eavesdropping. Sir. She said she was going to take me away from Pru and Flynn for no good reason.”
“I have a reason,” Lydia interrupted.
“Miss Coogan, it is not your turn to speak.”
The woman sat back as if she’d been slapped.
“Ari, go ahead. Why did hearing that make you run?”
“Because I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to go anywhere with her. She’s not like Mae. She’s not nice, and she’s more concerned with the rules than what’s actually best for people. I was going to hide at Logan’s until everything got straightened out.”
“And who is Logan?” Judge Moseley asked.
“Logan Maxwell, your honor. A close family friend,” Pru explained. “He has a farm about ten miles from our house.”
“Ten miles? Holy crap, is it really that far?” Ari asked. “No wonder I didn’t make it.”
“I believe it’s safe to say, your honor, that Ari wants to stay with Pru,” Robert said.
“Duh,” Ari answered.
Pru gave her hand a warning squeeze.