by Linda Ford
And the burning urgency in the pit of his stomach.
“How long—” Wade halted when he saw Annie, who seemed unaware of the tension in the room.
“Annie, why don’t you take the book back to the library and look at some of the other books there,” Linette suggested.
Annie slowly closed the book and sighed. “You want to say adult stuff, don’t you?” With another weary sigh, she dragged herself from the room.
Eddie and Grady clattered in and Grady was sent to keep Annie company.
Linette spoke before Wade could voice his question again.
“I might be concerned over nothing, but they’ve been gone half an hour or more, when I expected them to be right back.”
“No, you’re right to be worried. It’s cold out there and who knows what they’ve encountered,” Eddie assured his wife.
“Or who,” Wade added, his heart beating as hard as the blood pushing through his veins.
“I have someone watching but there’s a hundred different ways a man could sneak onto the ranch.” Eddie shook his head. They were both thinking of Vic.
“That’s hardly reassuring, dear.” Linette gently scolded her husband.
But she could have saved her breath. Nothing Eddie or Linette or any of them said could be worse than the dreadful pictures racing through Wade’s head.
He remembered all the awful things Missy had told him about Vic. His cruel intentions toward Missy, Louise and the baby.
Wade met Louise’s gaze. Her mouth twisted as if she’d tasted something bitter. No doubt her reaction to the possibility of the pair falling into the hands of Vic. “Find her. Find them both.”
“I won’t be back until I do.” He strode from the house into the cold.
Eddie followed. “They’re out there somewhere and we’ll find them.”
Wade didn’t answer, just stood outside the house, trying to find a clue as to where they’d gone. He studied the packed snow in the yard. There were too many footprints to detect just one or two sets. He circled the house with his head down, looking for something, anything. He made his circles wider and wider until he reached the edge of the yard next to the thicket of trees that he guessed went on for some time. A person could get lost in there.
He looked down and saw them—small fresh boot prints.
“Here,” he called. “Missy went this way.” She must have had her reasons. Whatever they were, he meant to follow her tracks. He trod a narrow trail made by animals. He and Eddie reached a little clearing with lots of deer and coyotes tracks, but he could not discern any more tiny boot prints. He had not seen Missy’s tracks for the last hundred feet, but neither had he seen any evidence of her leaving the trail, so she must have come this way.
He carefully circled the clearing, again looking for a clue. He reached the edge without discovering any.
Eddie waited, knowing he could destroy any signs if he wasn’t careful, and he seemed to understand this was something Wade needed to do.
“I can’t see anything.” Wade straightened and looked around, as if Missy and Joey might appear in the trees. “They can’t simply disappear.”
“No, they can’t, and at least there is no sign of this Vic you’re worried about.”
Wade did not find Eddie’s words comforting. What if he’d missed a clue? Something as obvious as horse hooves that blended into the deer tracks. It would be a mistake a youngster would make. He was fairly confident he would have noticed something like that. To be certain, he scoured the area again, all the while praying, God, give me eyes to see.
And God did. In an area where the snow had not yet buried the leaves, he detected a faint depression. “I found it.” He wasn’t certain, but hoped he saw two different sized tracks. Eddie jogged over and they bent under the branches and climbed over the fallen trees. “Why would either of them come this way?” He didn’t expect an answer from Eddie and got none.
“Missy, Joey,” he called. Did he hear an answer above the sound of his harsh breathing and the rattle of them scrambling through trees? He couldn’t be certain and pushed on, aware they made enough noise to frighten off anybody lurking around the area. There was only one reason the idea didn’t bring relief. If Vic had threatened Missy and Joey, Wade would like to get his hands on the man and make sure he would never do it again.
Wade paused once more and signaled Eddie to be still. “Missy! Joey!”
A faint sound came from his right.
“Over here,” he called to Eddie. He battered his way through the bushes and drew to a halt when he saw them.
They sat on the cold ground, Joey wrapped in Missy’s arms. They turned tear-streaked faces toward him.
With a groan of agony at the sign of their sorrow, and a sigh of relief that they were safe from Vic and all in one piece, Wade dropped to the ground beside them and wrapped his arms about them.
“You were gone so long,” he murmured. “I was afraid...” He wouldn’t name his fears, but Vic had been only a part of them.
“We needed a little time.” Her words whispered against his cheek. “I’m glad you came.”
At the strain in her voice his relief ended. “Are you okay?”
“I’m cold.”
“How long have you been sitting on the ground?” In the few seconds he’d been there the chill had seeped clear to his innards.
“A little while.”
Eddie took in the scene. “Come on, Joey, I’ll take you home and your uncle will help Missy get up.”
Joey hesitated, darted a glance at Wade. “Don’t be mad at Missy. She came looking for me.” He hung his head. “I tried to run away but I just got lost.”
Wade rested his hand on Joey’s head. “I’m not mad at either of you. Only glad you’re safe and sound. But it’s cold sitting on the ground so let’s go back.”
Joey scrambled from Missy’s lap and began to follow Eddie.
Wade got up and reached out to help Missy to her feet. She took his hands and pulled herself up, but as she tried to stand she crumpled against him.
“I’m sorry but my legs seem to have fallen asleep. I’m sure I’ll be okay in a minute or two.” But she clung to him, unmoving. She wasn’t going anywhere under her own steam for a bit.
He scooped her up in his arms. “Let’s go home.” He meant back to the ranch. He had no home. Nor, for that matter, did she. His arms tightened around her. If only he could offer her a home, but he knew his limitations.
“I’m sure I can walk,” she protested, as she settled one arm about his neck.
“Sure could have fooled me.”
“I feel like such a baby.”
“Not to me.” Then, fearing she would take his words in a way he hadn’t meant them, he added, “I’ve held babies and they’re a lot lighter.”
She chuckled and pressed her forehead to his cheek. “Wade, I do believe you just called me heavy. I don’t know if I should be offended.”
“No need to be.” His voice seemed to come from an unfamiliar spot behind his heart.
“Okay.” She rested her head against his shoulder. Her voice drifted sleepily.
“You’re awfully cold.” He could feel it clear through their layers of clothing. Was she chilled enough that she was in danger?
“I was there a long time.”
“Tell me what happened.” He needed her to stay awake; and besides, he truly wanted to know. He turned his back to the branches and pushed his way through, huddling forward to protect Missy.
“It was pretty much as Joey said. He was upset and decided to run away.” She tried to sit up, nearly unbalancing both of them. “Wade, you need to stop seeing the children as a nuisance.”
“I don’t.”
She went on as if he hadn’t spoken. “They need you. You can’t give them awa
y.” Her words seemed a little slurred and, worried, he tried to pick up the pace. But it was difficult to beat his way through the bushes with his arms full.
“I’m not letting the Bauers adopt them because it’s easy, but because it’s for their best.”
Missy caught his chin and turned his face toward her, almost upsetting him. He had to stop walking to keep his balance.
“How can it be for their best?”
“What can I give them?”
“Your love and your care.” She squinted at him. “Though if they’re only going to be a nuisance and a hindrance to you, perhaps it’s best if you do give them away to a loving family. A mother and father who...” Her voice drifted off. She’d forgotten what she meant to say.
“Especially a father who—” No, he would not say it. Would not confess his failings. He could not bear to look weak and inadequate in her eyes.
“A father who what?” she prompted, suddenly alert.
“I only meant they need a mother and a father.”
“No, you meant something about the father.”
Would they never reach the trail, where he could pick up the pace and put an end to her prodding?
She patted his shoulder. “What were you going to say?”
“I’ve said it all.” Where was the clearing? He didn’t recall it being so far away. “You know I was worried Vic might have found you.”
“Good try, but I’m not changing the subject. I know you love these kids, so there has to be some reason you’re giving them up besides your agreement with the Bauers. You said they need a father. You could be their father.”
“They need a father who understands their needs.”
She didn’t say a thing. Not a blessed thing, after he’d almost confessed his deepest, darkest, most shameful secret.
“Now you have nothing to say?” He stopped walking to look into her face. Despite the way the cold made her foggy from time to time, her eyes were sharp and focused at the moment and drilling into him as if she saw things. Things he didn’t care for her to see.
She shook her head and gave him a pitying look. “Wade, I have plenty to say.”
“Humph. I suspected you might.”
“I’ve been in a situation very like what Joey and Annie are in, and I can tell you what they need.” She impaled him with her fierce look. “They need someone to love them enough to stick with them even if it’s hard.”
Missy and Wade did silent battle with their eyes.
“They need more than that. Everyone does.” He pushed onward, desperate to reach the ranch house, and ignored the way she studied him. He would not look at her, would not reveal any more, would not let her words get under his skin. But oh, she could be as persistent as a burr under his saddle. Knowing that, he shouldn’t have been surprised when she continued.
Her words were slow and measured. “I think we are no longer talking about a five-year-old and a seven-year-old, are we?”
Where was the clearing? Had God moved it?
“Would you by any chance be talking about your wife?” Missy prompted.
He almost dropped her. “If you aren’t the most persistent, nosiest woman I’ve ever met my name isn’t Wade Snyder.”
“So what shall I call you?” Her voice dripped with teasing sweetness.
He almost choked. And then he finally saw the clearing. It was about time. “I don’t know why I was concerned about you. You’d likely tell the cold to forget about bothering you.”
She grinned. “I tried.” She batted her eyes. “I failed.”
His anger fled and he laughed. “I’ll get you to the house and you’ll get warmed up by the stove.”
She settled into his arms as he trotted down the path toward the ranch house.
Eddie was watching for them and held the door so they could enter, “How is she?”
Wade caught a chair with his foot, dragged it to the stove and lowered her into it.
The ladies gathered around her. Linette draped a blanket around her shoulders as Louise eased her boots off and gently massaged her feet.
“She’s fine,” Wade muttered, though he wondered if anyone heard him.
A little hand took his. Annie. He smiled at her. Joey sat at the table, wary and watchful. Keeping Annie’s hand in his, Wade crossed to the table, sat beside his nephew and draped an arm over his shoulders.
He pulled him close and the boy came to him. No words were needed.
From across the room Wade sensed Missy’s gaze on him and felt her insistence.
If he thought he could give these kids what they needed, he would keep them. But they deserved so much more than a man who feared the day he would fail them.
Chapter Eight
Although she was no longer as cold as she’d been sitting on the ground with Joey on her lap, Missy let the ladies fuss over her, and clutched the cup of warm tea they placed in her hands. Being carried back to the house in Wade’s arms had warmed her from the inside out. As she’d sat comforting and counseling Joey, she’d been struck by how much the boy cared about his uncle.
“Why can’t we stay with him?” Joey had asked through his tears.
“He doesn’t have a home.”
“I don’t care. We could go with him. I can ride a horse.”
“But what about Annie? She’s pretty little.”
Joey had sighed. “I guess so.”
Missy had tried to help him believe it wasn’t because Wade didn’t care about them. But she knew Joey would always feel it was. Just as she felt she’d been nothing but a burden to Gordie. In hindsight she could see that perhaps her brother was simply unable to deal with the difficulties thrust upon him by their parents’ death.
But it wasn’t her fault and she didn’t like being treated as if it were. She could hardly blame Joey for sharing a similar feeling toward Wade.
She should have gotten up and returned to the house, but she hadn’t wanted to put an end to the way Joey was coming around to accepting what life had in store for him. Not even when her legs had grown numb.
How embarrassing it was to discover she couldn’t stand when Wade had helped her to her feet.
Her cheeks warmed. Thankfully the others would put it down to sitting so close to the stove and not realize it was due to remembering the moment she had collapsed against him.
Her breath had caught halfway up her throat when he’d swept her into his arms. Funny how comfortable she’d felt there. Her half-frozen brain had not found one word of protest. In fact, she could have almost settled there and gone to sleep. With a great deal of effort, she’d managed to resist the temptation.
But at least it had provided an opportunity for her to discuss the matter of him keeping the children. In the closeness, he’d almost confessed his reasons for believing he could not do so.
She knew there was more to it than he’d said. How he didn’t think he could give them what they needed. If he would tell her, then she could assure him his reasons didn’t matter. No reason should prevent him from keeping the children.
“I’m warm now,” she said, letting the blanket slip from her shoulders as she looked around the kitchen. “Where’s Joey?” He’d been beside Wade a few minutes ago.
“The children are all in the library,” Linette said.
“Joey’s okay?” Missy’s gaze went to Wade for an answer.
He nodded. “He’s fine. How are you?” His look seemed to say he meant more than just her possible frostbite.
She wasn’t sure how to answer. Did he mean how had she liked being carried home? Her cheeks grew even warmer. She glanced about the room again in order to avoid looking directly at him. She spied the big pot she’d brought out before she’d gone in search of Joey. “Oh, I told the children I’d make candy with them and I haven’t.”
“There’s all afternoon,” Linette assured her. “First we’ll have dinner.”
Missy jumped up. “I’ll take care of the meal.”
Linette waved her away. “Louise and I made soup while the men went in search of you.”
“I’m sorry. I should have been here to help.” She watched Wade out of the corner of her eyes, saw a flicker of something vaguely regretful.
Was he thinking of all the time that had been wasted finding her?
Their gazes collided and the warmth in his made the blood rush up her neck. Oh my. That was not a look of regret at all.
If she wasn’t dreaming, it was a secret look of sweet reminders of a time he’d held her in his arms. Could it be? Was it possible he’d actually enjoyed it? She tried to swallow but her mouth had dried up like cotton. She tried to pull her gaze away but could not.
Annie trotted into the room. “Can I come in now? I want to see Missy.”
Missy dragged her attention to the child and held out her arms. “Come and see me then.”
Annie raced across the room into her embrace. “Joey said you were cold. You don’t feel cold to me. You’re nice and warm.” She snuggled against her.
Missy chuckled, her head bent over the child. Yet even without looking, she felt Wade’s gaze on her. She would not look up at him. Could not risk being again captured by his eyes.
Her heart ticked a demanding rhythm against her ribs, and slowly she gave in to the compulsion. She lifted her head enough to look at him through the curtain of her eyelashes.
He indeed watched her, a faint smile on his lips.
What was he thinking? She’d sure like to know.
“Are we still going to make candy?” Annie asked.
“We certainly are. But first, dinner. Maybe you’d like to help.” She included the two little boys hovering in the doorway.
Annie scrambled from Missy’s arms. “We can set the table.”
The children hurried about, carrying dishes, pouring a jug of water and then helping Linette and Louise take the food to the table.
In the meantime, Missy folded the blanket and put it on the rocking chair in the corner of the room. She put away her empty teacup and spent unnecessary time straightening a shelf. Anything to keep her mind away from the man across the room who followed her every move with eyes full of...