by Loree Lough
“Like second-guessing a trained rescue dog?”
“Yeah. Like that.”
They snaked their way back downhill, ducking low-hanging branches and stepping around teetering rocks. When they reached the flat ground that ran alongside the creek, Maleah leaned against a tree.
“I can’t believe you do this on a regular basis.”
“Somebody’s gotta do it.”
Cash woofed, and Ian said, “It’s okay, buddy. She’s just catching her breath.”
The challenge was just enough to get her moving again, and he noticed that she steered clear of the steep drop from the path to the water below.
“How far would you say it is,” he asked, “from where we are to the creek?”
“You should know that math wasn’t my best subject, professor.”
“Ha-ha,” he said over his shoulder. “Go ahead. Make a guess.”
“Twenty, thirty feet?”
“More like ten.”
“Why?”
“No particular reason. Just a random question.”
It wasn’t anything of the kind. He’d kept a careful eye on her since they left the campground, teetering slightly when their hike put them anywhere near a ledge or overlook. Experience had taught him that volunteers who watched their feet were more likely to trip and fall than those who kept their eyes on the trail ahead.
“Never realized you had a fear of heights.”
“I wouldn’t call it a fear, exactly...”
Mostly pointless conversation, he hoped, would keep her calm...and her eyes off her boots.
It happened without warning: the jarring sound of shifting gravel. A quiet gasp, followed by a tiny scream. Ian turned in time to seize the strap of her backpack, and kept her from going over the edge. His own backpack prevented him from gaining the leverage he needed to pull her up. He wriggled out of one belt, then switched hands to shrug out of the other one. This was the arm he’d broken, and it hurt like blazes, but Ian managed to roll, and bring her with him onto the narrow creek bank.
She lay flat for a full thirty seconds, eyes squeezed shut and gasping, one hand on her chest.
“You’re okay,” he said.
“Easy for you to say. Ask me again how far it is from here to the water.”
“Okay, so maybe I underestimated a bit.”
Levering herself onto one elbow, she branded him with a stare. “A little bit? You need to make an appointment with an eye doctor when we get home.”
She tried to stand, and in the process, kicked Ian’s backpack. He reached for it and missed, and it went over the edge, and splashed into the creek. The pack bobbed, like a cork in a whirlpool, before racing south toward the Potomac.
“Great,” he muttered. “Just great.”
Maleah, on all fours beside him, watched the camouflage pack disappear around a bend in the creek.
“Everything we need to stay in contact with Duke is in there.”
Not to mention gloves. A lightweight tarp. Flashlight and extra batteries. The first-aid kit. Flares. The all-important radio. And when he’d noticed her unsteady steps, he’d added the heavier items from Maleah’s pack. And two sweatshirts...
Half an hour or so after hitting the demanding trail, he’d removed his Ravens sweatshirt to forestall overheating. It hadn’t been easy, squeezing it in with the one he’d brought to put on Billy, if they were lucky enough to find him.
Maleah sat back on her boot heels. Ian could tell that she was on the verge of tears, and he saw no point in adding to her misery.
“Hey.” He gave her hand an affectionate squeeze. “Thing like that could’ve happened to anybody. I’m the dummy who put the pack so close to the edge.”
“To keep me from falling.” She hid behind her hands. “What are we going to do?”
“We’re going to stay calm and follow Cash. Worst-case scenario,” he said, walking toward the dog, “we’ll head back to the campground and take our lumps for losing our gear.”
A few minutes later, he looked over his shoulder, and saw that she’d fallen behind by at least thirty yards.
Ian backtracked, and when he reached her, said, “Why are you limping?”
Her lower lip trembled when she answered. “Did something to my ankle, trying to climb back up onto the path.”
He helped her sit. “Let me have a look at it.”
She gulped air when he wrapped a hand around the joint. Already, the swelling had started to bulge over the top of her boot. “My guess is, it’s a bad sprain. We’ll just sit here a minute, give you a chance to catch your breath.”
“I don’t want to sit. I can rest it after we find Billy.” Maleah scrambled to her feet, and would have lost her balance if Ian hadn’t steadied her. “I’m serious. Let’s keep moving.”
She took a tentative step and nearly collapsed again.
Ian picked her up and, backpack and all, threw her over his shoulder. He climbed the bank just ahead of them, stopping in the first clearing.
“We’ll hunker down here for a couple hours. When the sun comes up, I’ll head back to the camp, bring some help.”
“I’ll never live this down.”
“Only if you tell them what happened.”
Maleah met his eyes, and as realization dawned—that he’d keep her secret—hers filled with tears and she fell into his arms. It touched him, not only because it wasn’t like her to cry when things didn’t go her way, but because she trusted him.
He helped her sit at the base of an ancient oak that was wide enough that they could both use it as a backrest. Cash trotted up, assessed the situation, and lay down beside Ian.
“You’re shivering,” Maleah said.
“It’ll pass.” He hunched deeper into his lightweight sweatshirt.
She took off her quilted ski jacket and draped it over them. Petite as she was, it barely went from her right shoulder to his left.
“Put your hand into the pocket,” she suggested.
And when he did, Ian found a pack of gum.
“Didn’t you once tell me you hated this stuff, because it made you feel like a cow, chewing its cud?”
“It’s for emergencies. For when I have spicy food for lunch followed by a meeting.”
“Ah. Those kind of emergencies.”
“You’re still shivering.” She pulled the jacket higher, tucked it under his chin, and snuggled closer. “Shared body heat,” Maleah explained. “I’m surprised they didn’t teach you about that in search and rescue school.” Head resting on his shoulder, she said, “Warmer now?”
He was. “Wonder if the buses are loaded yet?” he wondered aloud.
“Probably not. With the weather and all, they’ll probably wait until morning to hit the road.”
“Who knows? We could be back by then.”
She nestled closer. “Wishful thinking.”
“How’s the ankle?”
“It’s throbbing. Small penance for stranding us out here.”
“We’re not really stranded. I know exactly where we are.”
“Me, too. Cold, damp, achy and worried about Billy.”
Ian added tree branch digging into my behind to her description, but wouldn’t complain, because they’d put her here in his arms.
She wondered aloud where Billy might be hiding. He speculated about the reasons he’d left the safety of his tent in the first place. Did Ian think another team had found him by now? Hope so, he’d said.
And while they talked, Cash, settled happily between her right thigh and his left, looking from Ian to Maleah and back again as though he understood every word.
“Silly dog,” he said, scratching between the pup’s ears.
“What do you suppose he’s thinking?”
Ian
did his best Goofy impression. “If you two weren’t so busy jabbering, you might have noticed that the sun is coming up.”
He pointed, and Cash took it as his cue to get back to work. He raced up the path and disappeared around the curve at the top of the hill.
“I wish I could do that,” Maleah said.
Just then, the dog started yapping.
“That’s his ‘found something’ bark,” Ian said, getting to his feet. “Stay put and I’ll see what’s got him all worked up.”
He’d only gone a few yards when Maleah said, “Ian! Wait up!”
She was still limping, but nowhere near as badly as she had been. “Told you the rest would do you good,” he said, pointing at her ankle. “But I still think you should wait here, make sure you don’t make it worse.”
“Says the man who rode a plow through a blizzard, wearing a cast on his leg and his arm.”
“Touché...”
“Anyway, if Cash found Billy, well, you don’t know what shape he’ll be in. You might not have time to come back for me.”
“What makes you think I’d come back for you?”
“You’d have to, because you love me.”
Definitely not something she’d intended to say, and her big round eyes and gasp proved it. In all probability, she never would have said it if the ankle hadn’t kept her awake all night. Ian thanked the power of her subconscious for allowing him that glimpse of her true feelings.
“Okay, you can limp along beside me,” he said, extending an arm, “but only if you lean on me.” She didn’t say a word as they made their way to the spot where they’d last seen Cash.
“He doesn’t sound agitated,” Ian observed. “Which could mean he cornered a rabbit or found a ball some kid dropped during a hike.”
“I hope it means he found Billy.”
“Me, too.”
It was an uphill climb to reach the spot where Cash now ran back and forth to coax them nearer.
“You have two choices. Wait here for me to check things out, or let me carry you up there.”
Shoulders slumped, she released a sigh.
Ian picked her up and, as he had earlier, draped her over his shoulder.
“Sorry if this makes you feel like a sack of potatoes.”
“I yam what I yam,” she said. “Let’s just hope this is the last time.”
He saw the boy long before she did. After gently putting her on her feet, Ian hugged Cash.
“Good boy,” he said. “Good boy! You found Billy.”
“Is he your dog?” the boy asked.
“He sure is. His name is Cash.”
“Yes, I know. I met him at the campground. Plus, I read his tag.”
Cash, sensing he was the subject of their discussion, lay across the boy’s lap.
“He’s very warm. I sure was real glad to see him.”
Maleah watched as Ian gave the boy a quick once-over.
“He’s cold, a little dirty,” he said, looking up at her, “and those mosquito bites will give him a fit for a couple days, but otherwise, I think he’s fine.”
She limped closer and, getting onto her knees, held Billy’s face in her hands.
“Do you know what a miracle is?”
“Yes, it’s a good thing from heaven.”
Touching a finger to his nose, she said, “And that’s just what you are.”
She removed her jacket, and as she tucked it around him, Maleah’s ring clicked against the hard plastic rectangle he’d been sitting on.
“A cell phone?”
“It’s my mom’s.”
“Aw, is the battery dead?”
“I don’t think so.” He shrugged. “I fell asleep and forgot it was there.”
Ian remembered that kids on the spectrum didn’t like surprise moves. “Mind if I have a look?”
Another shrug. “It’s my mom’s.”
“Battery is at 47%,” he told Maleah, “and reception is three of five bars.”
He punched a few keys, hoping he hadn’t misdialed.
“Olinski,” the gruff voice said.
“Duke, it’s Ian Sylvestry. We’ve found the boy.”
The operations leader held the phone away from his ear. “They found him!” he shouted, inviting a chorus of applause and cheers.
“Is he all right?”
“He could use a bath and some calamine for the bug bites.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“Well, I’ll be...”
Ian recited coordinates to the best of his abilities, given that he’d lost his map and compass, and while waiting for the team to arrive, Ian sat beside the boy.
“Were you scared?”
“Yeah, a little. The woods are creepy in the dark.”
Maleah rubbed warmth into his hands.
“And there are a lot of weird noises out here, too.” He looked up at Ian. “I heard a...an owl, and saw a deer.”
Maleah had guided the kids through a couple of crafts. Ian’s favorite? The binder where they could store pressed leaves, drawings, and even small flat rocks they’d found in the campground.
“There’s an adventure for your memory book.”
“Why isn’t my mom here?”
“I’m sure she’ll be with the team. They’ll be here soon.”
“Is she mad?”
“No, but she was real worried.”
Billy sighed.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Yes...”
“Why did you leave your tent last night?”
“I heard a noise. Mr. Stan told a story about raccoons washing their hands in puddles. I wanted to take a picture.”
“You saw one? Washing its hands?”
“There were three of ’em, eating out of the trash can. But no puddles. So when they ran off, I followed them.”
“And what about all the other times you wandered off?”
“Grown-ups like to tell stories, and they know kids like me get bored easy. So they make the stories exciting. Like the time I went to the train tracks, to see if the wheels really were made of iron, and could flatten pennies on the track.”
Ian looked over Billy’s head and watched Maleah’s expression change from shock to disbelief to exasperation. Had he overstepped his bounds, or was her annoyance rooted in the fact that no one, not even Maleah, herself, had drawn that much information from the boy.
You’re a fine one to talk, he told himself. One minute he thought life would be perfect and complete if she was a part of it. The next, he was questioning her sanity, and his...for loving her, still.
“You’re awfully quiet all of a sudden,” she said. “Are you all right?”
Billy’s eyes widened. “What’s wrong, Mr. Sylvestry?”
He heard the unmistakable sound of truck motors and tires grating over gravel. Tempting as it was to go down to the road and meet them, Ian concentrated on Billy.
“I’m just glad you’re all right.” Winking, he plucked a dried leaf from the boy’s hair. “Will you do me a favor?”
“Sure!”
“Next time you get an idea to investigate something, tell your mom first, okay?”
“Okay.”
“She’s gonna be so relieved to hear about this.”
“Really? Why?”
“’Cause she loves you, that’s why”
“Yeah...she says that a lot. I didn’t know she meant it, though.”
Kid, he thought, I know exactly how you feel.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
WHAT BEGAN AS a fluke had become an annual event for Teresa and Maleah.
She’d been too young to remember the earliest Mo
ther’s Day shopping trips, but from the age of five or so, Maleah saw the event as one of the year’s most anticipated.
“Do you realize we’ve been doing this for what seems like forever?”
Teresa looked over pink-framed reading glasses. “You were only a few months old that first time.” She closed the Double T menu. “I don’t know why I even bother looking. I’m going to order what I’ve always ordered.”
“Two eggs over easy, sausage links and hash browns,” Maleah said, “with coffee and a small tomato juice.”
“Another thing we have in common.” She rooted around in her purse and removed a coupon-stuffed envelope. “Would you believe I couldn’t find one special sale that stood out?” Teresa slid the envelope closer to Maleah. “Ann is your mom—see if something jumps out at you.”
“I already know what I want to get her.” She unsnapped her own purse and produced a department store circular.
“A mother’s ring...she’ll love it. You always come up with the sweetest, most thoughtful ideas.”
“But it’s getting more and more difficult to get something she doesn’t already have.”
“And it’ll only get worse as the years go by.”
“This,” Maleah said, tapping the full-color ad, “is an example of a happy accident. Mom has no idea I overheard this conversation... When Grampa was in the hospital, Mom actually took a nurse’s hand to get a better look at her ring.”
“Like I always say, it pays to pay attention.”
They ordered breakfast, and while they waited, Teresa said, “So what’s the latest on the little boy who ran away from the campground?”
“I talked with his mom just yesterday, and he’s doing great.”
“What makes a kid run off that way, I wonder?”
“You’ll hate hearing this, I’m sure, but thanks to Ian, I know exactly why Billy wandered off.” She told the as-told-by-Billy story. “He made Billy promise to tell someone next time the urge to wander struck, and according to his mom, he’s keeping that promise.”
“Now, why would I hate hearing something so uplifting?”
“Because it involves Ian.”
“What involves Ian?”
“Joey!” Teresa slid farther into the booth. “What a great surprise!”