Promise to a Boy

by Mary Brady

  The sheriff nodded again. “Seems they found Jesse’s car.”

  “His car? His car?” She stopped and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Sheriff. Where did they find his car?”

  “Apparently Jesse loaned his car to one of the residents of Boulder. Boulder, Utah, that is, not Colorado. It’s outside the area called Escalante Staircase National Monument.” She nodded and the sheriff continued in his solemn, official tone. “The man said he dropped Jesse at a trailhead inside Escalante about two months ago and then came back every couple weeks and dropped off supplies at a designated spot, and for that he gets the use of Jesse’s car.”

  She couldn’t help but smile a bit. “That sounds very much like a Jesse-type bargain.”

  “The problem is when the man went to the drop-off point a few days ago, the supplies he left the last time were still there.”

  “And he didn’t tell anyone about it right away?”

  “Not until the State Patrol spotted Jesse’s car and questioned him. From what the Utah officer said, the man’s a bit like…” The sheriff paused and fingered his hat. “Like Jesse.”

  He nodded.

  Abby continued. “And no sign of Jesse has been found.” It wasn’t a question, it was more a pronouncement of the kind of life Jesse lived in spite of what it did to anyone else. Oh, Jesse, you never mean any harm. “Not quite.”

  “Not quite?”

  “Hikers found a backpack and some uneaten supplies.” When she nodded, he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a photo.

  She glanced at the photo. “That’s his.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Kyle gave him that little stuffed animal to take with him.” She pointed to a small, now scruffy-looking, stuffed yellow ducky. Jesse had proudly hung it on the zipper pull of his backpack. “He said when the ducky got back, it would tell Kyle all about the trip, and then he…he spoke like Donald Duck. It’s a thing the two of them did.”

  Her lips curled up at the thought of Jesse and…his son. Was Kyle his son? Would he ever know? She had control of the tears now and refused to let them fill her eyes.

  Sheriff Potts tucked the photo back in his pocket. “He’s been listed as a missing person and they’ve notified all the proper authorities.”

  “Now what? Are they looking for him? Is there anything I can do?” She squeezed the fistful of tissue.

  “All you can do right now is let us know if he turns up or you hear from him. I’m afraid there isn’t the manpower available to do anything more than a cursory search. The national monuments have even less personnel than national parks. And Escalante is a big wilderness area.”

  He paused and gave her a steady look of concern. “And now, I want you to understand this, Abby. Going there yourself isn’t going to help anyone.”

  She nodded her understanding. “Why did you come to me and not his brother?”

  “He left instructions for you to be contacted if he didn’t return, and for you not to bother with his family unless you—and according to the man with Jesse’s car, these are Jesse’s words—‘unless you want to get mixed up in that mess.’”

  The sheriff made no further comment. And right now Abby loved him for it.

  “Thank you, Sheriff. I’ll let you know if I hear any thing.”

  “If there is anything anyone can do for you, you let me know.” She knew he meant it, about this, about any thing, and where the sheriff “went” so would the rest of the town. Right now she felt closer to the people of St. Adelbert than she ever had.

  The sheriff gave her a name and number of the man who had been leaving the supplies for Jesse, and she walked him out.

  When she closed the door, she leaned against it and listened to the sound of his boot heels on the wooden porch. Helplessness was all she could feel. Jesse was officially missing and for some reason, she could no longer think of him as anyone but Kyle’s father.

  She pushed away from the door. Reed needed to be told about his brother being officially declared missing, and someday she’d have to tell Kyle…and Lena. Reed first.

  How to tell him, she didn’t know, but when she checked outside, it became irrelevant. His car was gone.

  FRED NIVENS WAS THE ONLY lead he hadn’t followed up with, and now Reed stood outside the auto repair shop and waited while bearded Fred of Fix It Fred’s wiped some of the grease from his hands. He wasn’t surprised the auto shop was open on Sunday. People in St. Adelbert needed their cars during the week. No taxis. No buses.

  The repair shop looked no worse for wear after the emergency mood of the phone call Fred had gotten at the diner the other day.

  Reed had waited for forty-five minutes while Fred finished what he called a delicate operation. Reed took that to mean someone else was waiting for what Fred was doing. Reed had been there. It happened in the corporate world—well, most of the time. It just depended on how high up you were on the food chain. The first five minutes Reed had waited inside, but the smell of gasoline and other petroleum products had him thinking self-preservation dictated a change of venue.

  Fred bustled outside. “So that little brother of yours has set this whole town to worrying.”

  “I’m afraid that’s the truth.”

  “Too bad. Nice fella. Can’t repair a car worth a damn, though. Wasn’t even much good at changing the oil.”

  “I’ve been asking around to see if anybody has any hints about where he planned to go after hiking in Utah.”

  “Me? Got no clue, but I have a couple stories about the guy you might want to hear.”

  Fred sat down on the bench outside the shop and Reed sat beside him.

  AFTER THE SUN HAD BEGUN to drop in the late-afternoon sky, Reed let himself back into the apartment above Abby’s garage.

  Fred had invited him to stick around and stay for dinner, but he had declined. Fred was a bachelor and if his home was anything like his cluttered shop, there must be a better choice. Reed wasn’t feeling particularly sociable anymore. In fact, he had started to like being with himself. He felt more at peace with himself here in St. Adelbert. No wonder the residents loved being nestled in the mountains where the world had less of a chance to peck at them.

  He suspected the Harveys had sent him to Fred to learn more about his brother and his brother’s life than to find any information about where Jesse might be now. Strange and wise folk, those Harveys. Just wait, Abby had said. He had no idea Jesse had an interest in hunting and trapping or that he ever enjoyed reading anything, let alone American history. Fred gave him that and regaled him with many tales. One story was about the bear encounter in which Fred and Jesse had learned how fast they could climb a tree they would have normally thought to be unclimbable.

  A tap on the door had him turning to see a mass of curling, dark hair backlit by what was left of the day’s remaining sunlight. Abby.

  He opened the door to let her in. “Hello, Abby.”

  She stood on the landing looking uncertain, sad and just a little bit cold in her pink short-sleeve shirt that skimmed the tops of her breasts provocatively. When the sun in this part of Montana fell, so did the temperature.

  “Reed.”

  “Please, come in.”

  She stepped past him into the room. Her jeans clung perfectly to her butt and thighs and sandals showed off naked toenails, no paint. He definitely wasn’t in Chicago.

  “I have something to tell you.” She didn’t turn around.

  Interesting, he thought. It sounded like the beginning of a confession. A feeling of disappointment surprised him. He still wanted Abby Fairbanks to be squeaky clean and above reproach on all levels. Probably not fair, but feelings were feelings.

  He stepped around her to see her face and she looked at him.

  “It’s about Jesse,” she said with apology in her tone.

  His phone rang. “Excuse me.” He looked at the screen. Denny. He muted the sound. He’d call him back later.

  “This is my ‘learn about Jesse’ day,” he told
her. He had already gotten to like the adult Jesse had become, and he feared from Abby’s tone, tales and stories might be all he’d have left to take home with him.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “WHAT IS IT, ABBY?”

  “I’m so sorry, Reed.”

  “Let’s sit.” Reed indicated the chairs at his brother’s small kitchen table instead of the shabby old couch with the big-flowered slipcover.

  He snagged Jesse’s T-shirt and shorts that earlier he had laid on the kitchen chair, and tossed them on the bed in the other room. When he returned, she was sitting with her hands in her lap and an expression of deep concern on her face.

  “What’s happening with Jesse?” he asked.

  She looked up when he spoke and he thought he saw traces of tears in her eyes.

  “They’ve declared him missing.”

  “Who declared him missing?” He pulled out the other chair and sat down. Across the table from him, she furrowed her dark brows and rested her hands on the table.

  “The state of Utah. They notified the sheriff here this morning.”

  “So they found proof he was there.” That was at least a better start than conjecture and hearsay as to where he went.

  “And they found his things, but not him.”

  “Are they sure the things were Jesse’s?” Of course they were, but he didn’t know what else to think or say. He had no idea how to face never seeing his brother again, let alone tell their mother.

  She nodded and studied her fingers. After a moment, she took a deep breath and told him of the untouched food, the loaned car and the apparently abandoned backpack with the stuffed duck attached to it.

  The tentative way she laid out the grim news told him she counted herself among those who loved Jesse. A list that included practically everyone at the diner, Jesse’s employers, the Harveys, probably Abby’s sister, Lena—and one little boy. At least, by leaving Chicago, Jesse had found people who truly cared about him. He might be the smart one in the family.

  As he thought about his brother, Reed understood he had not lost his brotherly love. It had been tucked away with the rest of his childhood.

  When Abby stopped speaking, she glanced up at him and he didn’t like the distress he saw on her face. “There’s more?”

  “The sheriff said the authorities in Utah, at Escalante, can’t do much in the way of searching. They don’t have the people and the area is too large. Too large for us to go there and help. I spoke with the man who has Jesse’s car and he is going to make sure there are notices posted so anyone in the area will know to tell somebody if they see Jesse.”

  She bowed her head and swiped at the tears forming in her eyes. Tears for his brother? Abby Fairbanks didn’t seem like the kind to cry at all.

  She got up and started for the door.

  He leaped to his feet and grabbed her hand, so she stopped and turned back toward him.

  “What else is going on?” he asked.

  “What?”

  She seemed startled and then all the strength and determination he had known her to have fled, and she almost crumpled right in front of him. He pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her.

  Reed Maxwell the nurturer. He had no idea where that came from. Mountain air? No matter what else was going on, holding Abby felt like the right thing to do just then.

  Standing here, with this woman in his arms, he realized she made him feel real, like a human being. His parents’ home, always filled with the help, had never done it. His corner office overlooking Lake Michigan did not and neither did the corporate jet engender feelings of warmth and connection.

  Mountain air. Mountain air explained everything. Didn’t it?

  She let him hold her for a moment longer and then pushed away. The tears dried up and she stood straight with her shoulders back and her chin held high.

  There was the Abby Fairbanks he knew. He touched her cheek. “Tell me what else is going on.”

  Her shoulders relaxed. “It’s really nothing or it’s probably nothing, just me worrying.”

  “Your sister?”

  She nodded.

  He took her hand and tugged her across the small room to the couch where he plopped down and pulled her down beside him. She managed to stay perched on the edge, so he scooted forward, put his arm around her back, and slouched until his head rested somewhat comically on her shoulder.

  “What are you doing?” She tried to push his head away and he resisted.

  “Our siblings have managed to make it so we need comforting. I thought we might as well comfort each other.”

  She stiffened under his cheek and then she put her hand on the side of his head and relaxed back on the couch, taking him with her.

  They sat, or rather slouched, there until he thought she might have fallen asleep. When he lifted his head to look at her, she pulled his cheek back down to her shoulder.

  “Tell me about Lena,” he said. “First tell me about what’s happening to worry you and then tell me all about her.”

  “She’s missing, too, or rather she’s overdue from a mission.” She told him about the email, about the possibility Lena wasn’t missing at all, but that the assignment was just more complicated than they thought it would be. “It’s not like this kind of thing hasn’t happened before. They usually don’t know exactly how long they’ll be gone. Things are always sort of fluid.”

  “And you haven’t even told your mother.”

  “I can’t. She thinks everything that goes wrong in her daughters’ lives is because she somehow failed them. I’ll tell her when I know something for sure.”

  He knew that one. He thought of what he told his own mother and what he kept to himself.

  “Is Lena a good soldier?”

  “She’s a damned fine soldier, if trying hard counts. She says she has so much to make up for.”

  He lifted his head and pulled her closer to him until she was firmly tucked against his rib cage and thigh. “Now tell me about your sister, Lena.”

  She turned toward him, and when she put her hand on his chest, he covered it with his and wondered how long he could he sit there with her pressed into him, the smell of her, the strength of her. She invaded all his senses and his sensibilities. How long could he sit there without kissing her again? He had thought their first kisses had been a spur of the moment thing that couldn’t really mean very much, but he felt another “moment” closing in fast and somehow the next kiss would mean more.

  “My sister is the funniest, most aggravating person on the planet and there is no one who will love quicker or harder. She tells me I’m a saint.”

  He laughed. “Are you?”

  “I might be—because it’s not a compliment in Lena’s book. She thinks I never do anything wrong and doesn’t remember our mother ever punishing me.”

  “You were a lucky kid.”

  “I’m afraid the drugs might have affected Lena’s brain.” Then she laughed, a soft musical sound, and Reed couldn’t help but want more of the sound, of her. The warmth of her body, the softness of her skin stirred things in him he didn’t care to examine too closely.

  “I’m kidding about the drugs,” she continued. “I’m sure Lena tried them, but not enough to do that kind of damage.”

  “She didn’t inhale?”

  She laughed again. “She sucked them in as far as she could, but luckily, before she got addicted to anything, she learned they weren’t making her life better.”

  “That’s why she chose the army?” He didn’t know why he asked a question to which he already knew the answer. Testing her? Distracting himself because he wanted to taste her?

  “It was firmly suggested by a judge that she find some way to get her priorities in order.”

  “It seems to be working.” Sudden, ridiculous relief flowed into him. She wasn’t afraid of the truth, at least about her sister.

  “That doesn’t stop me from worrying insanely about her.”

  “So you’re the insane saintly sister.�
��

  She laughed again. “And your brother and my sister are a couple of insensitive creeps.”

  “Yup. Total creeps.” Just a nibble. He wanted just a nibble of her.

  “We should do something to show them they can’t drive us crazy no matter how hard they try.”

  “What should we do?” He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed each fingertip. Then he held his breath as she lifted her kissed fingertips to his cheek and kept them there while she leaned in to kiss him.

  “This,” she said against his lips. Her soft mouth opened against his and he slid his tongue in to meet hers. Just a nibble? He felt himself go hard. He usually had more control than that, but with Abby control seemed out of the question.

  When she strained to get closer, he hauled her onto his lap with all the finesse of a caveman. The feeling of her pressing down as she settled on top of him almost sent him over the edge.

  He pulled his mouth away and kissed a trail down her neck, down the V of her soft pink shirt to the enticing swell at the lowest dip of her shirt’s neckline. When he brushed his palm against her breast, her nipple was as hard as he was.

  They explored each other with tongues and hands and when she lifted his shirt and put her hands on his bare chest he knew he didn’t just want her, he needed her, all of her.

  “There’s a bed here,” he said without looking up.

  “Are there condoms?”

  He stopped what he was doing and lifted his head. “I don’t have any and I didn’t see any in Jesse’s things.”

  “Hmm. That would be a big ‘no,’ then, because I don’t have any. I might be willing to risk a disease or two to satisfy my sudden need, but I won’t risk a baby. Not fair to the child.”

  Was she thinking of Kyle when she said that?

  “Oh, no.” She giggled.

  “Funny? You think this is funny.” He grinned.

  “Very. If either of us goes to the drug store for condoms we might as well put a big sign up in the town square that we’re going to have sex.”