If the Summer Lasted Forever

by Shari L. Tapscott

  Landon opens his arms to me, and I step into them without question. I bury my face against his chest and wrap my arms around him, holding him as tightly as I can. He doesn’t cry like Hunter, but I can sense he feels the guilt too. It’s not our fault Caleb took off, but there’s still all those “what ifs” floating around in our minds. What if we’d postponed our trip into Glenwood? What if we’d taken Caleb on his excursion?

  He’d still be here.

  “Are you going to try to get some sleep?” I finally ask him.

  His head is bent down, his whole body curled in close to me, so his cheek rubs against my ear as he nods. “I want to be alert enough to look some more soon.”

  “I’m going to lie down too. Call me if you need me, okay? Or if you hear anything?”

  Landon nods, and we part, him going into the camper to join his grieving family and me heading toward my house.

  The front door is locked, so I round the back. Not sure if Mom’s trying to sleep, I’m quiet as I slip in and softly shut the door behind me.

  I hear whispers coming from the front room—Mom and Mark. They sound serious, and I don’t think it’s the time to interrupt them. I tiptoe past, hoping to slip into my bedroom undetected. But I freeze when I catch a glimpse of them.

  Mom’s head rests on Mark’s shoulder, and she’s crying. His arms are around her, holding her like she’s precious. He murmurs something, and she looks up, tears streaming down her face. Then he kisses her softly, offering comfort.

  Kisses her.

  It’s like a punch to the gut, and I suck in a silent breath. I stumble back, feeling…deceived, I suppose. Not only are they betraying Dad, but they’re going behind my back to do it.

  And it’s too much with everything going on—it might be too much all on its own. I slip down the hall without them ever seeing me, sobbing silently, wishing we could just erase the last twenty-four hours and start over.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  I wake with a start. My pillow’s wet with tears, but I refuse to think about Mom and Uncle Mark right now.

  Prospector’s Demise. The spot where Gideon Bonavit went off the cliff—that’s what Caleb was so fascinated with. I told Paige’s dad to check the hiking trails, but that area is away from the trails, near the cliff’s edge, on a narrow wagon road that was abandoned long ago when a tunnel was blasted in the fifties, making a safer passage through the mountain.

  I leap from my bed and race through the house. Thankfully, there’s no sign of Mom or Mark. I can’t deal with them while Caleb is missing. I just can’t.

  It’s about seven o’clock now, and the sun is up. People mill around everywhere, all volunteers here to aid in the search. There’s Division of Wildlife agents, BLM officials, and all kinds of people from the town and campgrounds.

  Mr. and Mrs. Murray have a table in front of the office, and they’re handing out coffee, bottled water, and snacks to the weary search teams.

  Several officers I don’t recognize stand with Paige’s dad, and they have police dogs with them. As far as I know, our little town doesn’t have any, so they must have brought them in from somewhere nearby.

  Thankfully, the person I’m looking for is standing to the side of the chaos, talking with a group. I walk to Landon, and as soon as he spots me, he reaches for me.

  “They’re calling in a helicopter,” he tells me. “They’ve had search and rescue out all night, but they haven’t seen any sign of him.”

  “Prospector’s Demise,” I say in a rush. “That’s one of the places he wanted to see. What if he didn’t want to check out the spot where Gideon went over? What if he really wanted to see the canyon below.”

  Where the gold was supposedly lost.

  Landon’s eyes widen, and he nods, slowly at first and then with more conviction. “How do we get down there?”

  ***

  Since there’s no real trail to Prospector’s Demise, we have to make our own way through the thick brush after we leave the Jeep by the side of the closest road. It’s a nasty walk, full of scratchy oak brush, prickly thistles, and sappy, low-hanging evergreen boughs.

  Even though I’m wearing my hiking boots, something sharp has lodged in the sock by my heel, just low enough I’d have to take off the boot to remove it. I ignore it as we push on.

  Finally, we reach the cliff’s edge.

  Landon looks over the sheer wall, bracing himself. I think we’re both worried Caleb might have lost his footing and tumbled off the side, but neither of us says the horrifying words out loud.

  “See anything?” I ask after several long moments.

  Landon shakes his head. “Nothing. How do we get down there?”

  I pull out my phone, but there’s no service here, therefore no way to access any of the map apps. Too bad we don’t have a trail map like Caleb.

  “If Caleb went this way, he probably got to this point and decided he needed to find a way down,” I say, finally digging the sticker from my boot. “Which way do you think he would have gone?”

  Landon looks to the left and then the right, studying the possible route along each side of the ledge. “Probably to the north—there are fewer obstacles in the way.”

  We follow a deer trail along the top of the canyon wall, looking for any sign of Caleb passing this way. Our path ends in a thick patch of brush that appears impossible to move through.

  “I don’t think he went this way.” Landon puts his hands on his lower back and stretches. He only got an hour of sleep at the most, and he looks defeated.

  “Let’s go back to the road,” I suggest. “See if we can find some sort of trail that leads into the canyon. Caleb has the map—he would have probably taken the easiest route.”

  I toss my pack in the back seat when we reach the Jeep. I have a few backpacking supplies with me just in case—lots of water, a first aid kit, an emergency blanket, and a handful of energy bars. It’s nothing to sustain us for long, but hopefully, it will be enough to take care of Caleb when we find him.

  And I say “when” because I refuse to believe this isn’t the way he went. My gut tells me it is, and I pray I’m right.

  He’s too little to be lost. My exhausted brain dwells on all the bad things he could run into out here: bears, mountain lions, flash floods, dangerous terrain, hypothermia…

  The list is too long to even contemplate.

  We must find him. That’s the only option.

  I take off-road trails I’ve never gone down before, hoping one of them will take us into the canyon. Because we’re forced to backtrack so many times, we’re still not so far from the campground that Caleb couldn’t have made it here on his bike in a few hours.

  Finally, we find our road. I almost cry when we begin to descend into the canyon.

  “Hold up,” Landon says from the passenger’s seat, looking at his phone.

  “Did they find him?” I ask, relief making me nearly dizzy.

  “No, but I have signal here. I need to let everyone know where we’re at.”

  I pull over to a wide space and put the Jeep in park, practically choking on disappointment.

  “Can you access a map?” I ask.

  Landon sends a text, and then he waits for the GPS to load. After several long minutes, he says, “We don’t have enough signal.”

  After another minute of waiting for it to load with no luck, Landon motions me on. We’ll just have to do our best.

  The road is narrow, right on the side of the cliff, just wide enough for the Jeep. I’ve never done an off-road trail like this, certainly not alone, and never in the driver’s seat.

  “You okay?” Landon looks over.

  “As long as no one wants to pass,” I try to joke.

  We wind down, following the road, climbing over small boulders and maneuvering around tight corners.

  Finally, we reach the bottom. The road runs not far from a creek. The spring runoff thankfully finished long ago. Otherwise, the trail would be a sloppy mess. Already, it’s rutted from peo
ple driving through it in wet weather.

  Landon cranes his neck out the window, looking at the cliff above. “Where do you think Prospector’s Demise is from here?”

  “When we were up there, I spotted a grove of aspens growing near the creek. Once we reach those, we’ll be getting close.”

  But it’s going to take a while at this speed. Still, even if we’re moving at a snail’s pace, it’s faster than traveling on foot.

  “Lacey, look!” Landon says, pointing forward, nearly hanging halfway out the window.

  I hit the brakes, causing the Jeep to rock back and forth, and peer ahead of us, to where Landon’s pointing. He’s already out the door, racing for the bike that’s propped next to the road in the trees.

  I slam the Jeep into park, and I’m on his heels. I don’t even bother to shut the door behind me.

  “Is it Caleb’s?” I holler, but I already know it is.

  “Caleb!” Landon shouts. He waits for a moment, and then he yells again.

  Then we’re silent, waiting for an answer. The only sound in the air is the gentle babbling of the creek and the sound of wind in the long grass growing on its banks.

  “Caleb!” Landon yells again.

  His brother’s name echoes off the canyon walls.

  “Maybe we should go on—”

  And then we hear it. The faint sound of a whistle on the breeze—the kind hikers keep in their gear just in case they become lost. I slap a hand over my mouth, cutting myself off. The whistle stops for a second, and then it begins anew.

  “That way!” Landon runs down the road, turns the corner, and then takes a sharp right into a narrow area that cuts into the canyon wall.

  We both run, shouting Caleb’s name.

  And then there’s George, running for us, tongue lolling out, happy as a giant, drooling dog can be.

  “Where’s Caleb, George?” Landon asks. Since we’re not in an old black and white television show, George doesn’t immediately turn and lead us to him. No, instead he stops to sniff a bush.

  We pass him, figuring the dog will follow eventually. The whistling is louder, and then finally it stops altogether, and we hear a small voice yell, “Landon!”

  And we see Caleb, with his dirt-smudged face and scratched up legs, barreling for us, running as fast as he can.

  Landon races ahead and catches his brother around the middle, scooping him up and hugging him tightly.

  Caleb sobs against Landon, desperately relieved.

  Landon pulls him back. “What were you thinking?” he all but yells.

  Without waiting for an answer, Landon pulls Caleb back into a hug. Between telling him how happy we are to find him, he scolds him for taking off. The whole time, Caleb blubbers “I’m sorry” over and over.

  I stand back, not even realizing I’m crying until the tears start dripping off my chin.

  When the three of us finally get control of ourselves, Landon demands, “What were you doing?”

  Caleb glances at me. “I was looking for the spot Gideon Bonavit crashed.”

  Landon flashes me a look and then turns back to his brother. “Why would you go alone? And in the dark?”

  “We’re leaving!” Caleb yells, his eyes welling up with tears again. “You said you’d take me next weekend, but we’re not going to be here!”

  Landon points at him, still overcome with conflicting emotions. Relief wars with anger and residual fear. “That doesn’t make it okay to take off on your own, and you know it!”

  Caleb sags and nods his head.

  “Why didn’t you come back when it started getting dark?” I ask. “Wasn’t it scary out here all by yourself?”

  The little boy puffs up, pretending to be brave though I can tell it was the worst night of his young life. “I was going to come back, but that dumb dog wouldn’t budge after it got dark.” He points at George like he’s the dark villain of a melodrama.

  Landon closes his eyes and rubs a hand over his face. Gaining control, he looks back at Caleb. “Why didn’t you leave his fool self here?”

  Caleb gulps, not able to look his older brother in the eye. “I didn’t want to go back by myself. Plus, the road was a lot easier to come down than go up.”

  The thought of riding a bike up that winding, rocky road sounds awful.

  “Are you hungry?” I ask, remembering the supplies I brought with me. “Hurt? Thirsty?”

  “I brought water and granola bars, but I finished them last night.” He points to his tent, which he’s set up so it’s hidden in a nook in the rock wall. “But I was safe enough in the tent. I even brought a few blankets so I didn’t get too cold.”

  “Come on,” I say, motioning for him to follow me. “I have food and water.”

  “I’m going to pack up his stuff,” Landon says.

  I nod and take Caleb to the Jeep. After I have him set up in the back, I leave him for a few minutes so I can help Landon.

  I find him sitting on a rock next to Caleb’s tent, bent over, head in his hands.

  “Hey,” I say, kneeling next to him.

  He looks up. His eyes are dry, but his expression is one of pure anguish. Maybe for the first time, he’s let himself think of all the things that could have happened to his brother while he was out here alone.

  “He’s okay,” I say quietly.

  Landon nods.

  I take his hands in mine and wrap my fingers through his. “Are you okay?”

  He lets out a long, controlled breath. “Yeah, I’m just…I don’t know. Exhausted, I guess.”

  “Do you have service? Have you called your parents?”

  Landon shakes his head. “Nothing down here.”

  “We’ll tell them as soon as we can.” I get ready to stand, but Landon holds me steady. “Lacey.”

  He only says my name, nothing else. But there’s a lot in the single word.

  I wrap my arms around him. He clutches me closer, needing me as much as I need him.

  I’ve let him in, come to care too much. And not just for him, but for his family too.

  Again, I’ve gone and fallen for a summer boy. Again, it’s going to end in nothing but heartache.

  I pull back after a few short moments, but only because Caleb’s waiting. Landon doesn’t resist, and together, we head back to the Jeep.

  Caleb’s on his second bar by the time we return.

  “Just so you know, little man, you’re in so much trouble,” Landon says as he tosses Caleb’s pack and bike in the back. Then George leaps in, somehow cramming himself into the limited space.

  Caleb thinks for several moments and scratches the side of his neck. “Do you think we could keep going, see if we can find Gideon’s gold? You know, since Mom probably won’t let me come back?”

  Landon slowly turns, giving Caleb a look that makes the boy flinch.

  “Or maybe not…” Caleb says.

  For the first time in hours, I crack a smile.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Slow and steady, the Jeep crawls over a particularly rough and rocky part of the road. We’re just about to start climbing the canyon. I feel like I’ve pretty much mastered this four-wheeling thing, and I’m wondering why the boys make it sound so complicated, when my back left tire starts wobbling in my rearview mirror.

  I slow to a crawl—an impressive thing to do when you’re already going under five miles per hour—and watch in horror as the tire deflates and hangs loosely around the wheel.

  “What was that?” Caleb asks, noticing the Jeep slowly tilting.

  I growl and smack my hand against the steering wheel. Honestly, can one more thing go wrong today?

  “Flat tire,” I say, putting the Jeep in park and getting out to inspect the damage.

  Yep. Flat.

  I cross my arms and scowl at it until Landon comes to my side. The thing is, I don’t actually know how to change it. Paige does—her brothers taught her when she was twelve. Uncle Mark tried to show me too, and I paid attention—I really did—but he might
as well have been talking Greek.

  Maybe this four-wheel thing isn’t for me after all.

  Landon looks like his lack of sleep is catching up to him in a big way. He’s dead on his feet.

  “At least you have a spare,” Landon points out, already moving for it.

  “Do you know how to change it?”

  Landon nods and gets to work. I dig out the lug wrench, remembering that was a vital part of the whole operation.

  It doesn’t take Landon long to jack up the Jeep and remove what’s left of the old tire.

  Caleb watches with avid interest and asks me, “Why do you think it went flat?”

  “I don’t know,” I answer, not really up to speculating at the moment.

  “Was it rock?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Maybe there was a rusty nail in the road—like something from an old wagon!”

  “I don’t know.”

  Landon tightens the lug nuts one by one, slowly releases the jack…and then he curses.

  “Mom says you’re not supposed to say that,” Caleb so helpfully announces.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, scooting Caleb back before Landon completely loses it.

  Landon lies back on the hard, rocky ground. His arm is flung over his eyes. “Your spare’s flat.”

  “How is that possible?” I demand. “It’s just been on the back of the Jeep. I haven’t used it even once.”

  “It happens. You have to check them when you check the rest of your tires.”

  I’m about to tell him that I don’t check any of my tires, but then I realize that’s probably what got us in this predicament to begin with, and I decide it’s best to keep my mouth shut.

  “Now what?” I ask.

  He flings his arm aside so he can look at me. “Now we hike to the top of the road and see if we can still get cell signal up there.

  Hike up the canyon.

  It’s going to take us hours. We haven’t had nearly enough sleep for this.

  But we don’t have a choice.

  We grab the rest of the water out of the Jeep, and each of us shoves a few energy bars in our pockets. George hops out of the back, and up the road we go.