Before Kelly could reply, the phone rang and she went to answer it. While her sister was gone, Cynthia realized she truly meant what she said. She wanted more from life. She wanted a family. Not having Patrick didn’t mean she should give up on her dream. Maybe she couldn’t have her man, but there were kids out there who needed love, and one good parent was better than none.
Kelly returned. “That was Nora. It seems that Davy went out for his riding lesson, but he got angry and ran away. Patrick went looking for him.”
“I’ve got to go out there and help.” She stood, grabbed her purse and headed for the door.
“Hey, wait for me,” Kelly called. “Davy is one of my kids, too.”
Cynthia smiled. “Looks like we’ve both made commitments.”
“Yeah, what can I say? Those kids just grow on you.”
After tying his pack on his saddle, Patrick led Ace out of the barn to meet Kevin and Forest beside the corral. They discussed the different directions Davy could have gone. Since the ground was damp from an overnight rain, they were able to find imprints of the child’s boots. The tracks passed the fence and headed toward the foothills.
“What area do you want us to take?” Forest asked.
“Since it’s still daylight we’ll separate. I’ll follow the tracks along the trail to the shack. You two sweep on either side of me and see if I miss something. I have a feeling Davy isn’t going to make finding him easy.” He mounted Ace and looked up at the sky. “If we’re lucky we have about three hours of daylight left. Pray the weather holds.”
“He knows where the line shack is,” Kevin blurted out. When Patrick glared at him, the teenager said, “We talked one day about where to go riding. I said the best trail is to the line shack.”
Forest spoke, “Well, if he’s smart he’ll head there, because rain is forecast before nightfall.”
“Then we’d better find him.” Patrick set off on the trail, keeping his eyes on the small tracks. As he’d predicted, Davy wasn’t making it simple to find him. The boy had zigzagged across the path as if he had no idea where he was going.
Just as Patrick had no idea where he was going. Since Cyndi had left—since he’d sent her away—he’d been lost, too. Patrick slowed his horse along the trail as he went through the tall pines. He listened quietly for any sounds that weren’t natural. Since Patrick had grown up in this area, he knew every inch of this land, every hill and ravine. He also knew the dangers of nature and exposure to the elements. Davy was too young to be out here alone.
He was only about a half mile from the shack when he heard a noise. Patrick paused, listening intently, and his eye caught movement. It wasn’t on the ground, but up in a tree. He slowed Ace to a walk and studied the area closely. There were several huge pines, some that stood thirty feet high. He glanced upward and saw Davy perched on a limb just above his head.
Patrick sighed in relief and he continued down the trail. He didn’t want to let Davy know that he’d been found. First Patrick took out his cell phone and let Forest know to call off the search. The phone reception was poor, but he managed to get across the message that he’d found Davy. Then he rode back for the boy.
“Davy, you can come down now,” Patrick said as he rested his arm across the saddle horn.
No response.
“Come on, Davy. I know you’re up there, so you might as well talk to me. You have everyone worried. Come down. We have to get back.”
“No, I’m not going to. I’m never going back and you can’t make me.”
Okay, he had a problem. Patrick took out his cell phone and called Nora at the house. “Tell Betty that Davy is safe, but it’s going to take a little while to coax him back.”
“That’s great,” Nora cheered. “But you’d better hurry. There’s a storm moving in. Where are you?”
“We’re about a half mile from the line shack, but he’s climbed up a tree. He’s pretty upset. I’m going to try and talk him down. Is Betty there?”
“Yeah, I’ll get her.”
Betty came on the phone. After Patrick convinced her Davy was okay and explained the situation, she asked, “Should I call the sheriff?”
“I wish you wouldn’t. Davy is angry with me. I let him down.”
She released a long sigh. “That’s not true. You’ve been there for him, Patrick. But sometimes little boys don’t understand everything. I trust you to handle him. Keep us informed.” She hung up.
Patrick put his phone away and looked up at Davy huddled in the tree. “Come on, Davy. Why don’t you come down and we’ll talk?”
“Go to hell.”
Patrick released a deep sigh. It was going to be a long night.
With a long sigh, Patrick climbed off Ace and walked the horse to a cleared area just beyond the tree. Off in the distance he saw dark clouds moving in. “Can’t get too comfortable,” he said to his horse, “because we might have to make a run for it.”
He knew he couldn’t play games with Davy for long. But he couldn’t force the boy to come down; he might fall. He loosened the straps on the saddlebag.
“What are you doing?” Davy called down.
“Ace and I are just getting comfortable. I’m going to let him graze and I’m going to relax.” He unrolled the blanket and placed it on the ground.
Patrick sat down and opened his pack. He took out a bottle, took a long pull on the water and sighed loudly. “That sure hit the spot.”
He glanced up to where Davy sat, his legs hanging over the side of a large branch. The kid had to be uncomfortable. “Want some?” Patrick asked.
“I told you I’m not coming down.”
Patrick stood. “How about if I get you some water?”
“You’re just tryin’ to trick me,” Davy accused.
“No, I wouldn’t do that, Davy. I just thought you might be thirsty. I can send up a bottle.”
There was a long silence, then Davy asked, “How can you do that?”
Patrick got his rope from the saddle and tied a couple of knots in one end. “When I toss this up, catch it and pull it over the branch.”
It took about three tries, but finally Davy caught the end of the rope. “I did it!” he cheered. “What do I do now?”
“You have to pull the rope over the limb so it comes back to me.” When the boy did as he asked, Patrick grabbed the other end of the rope, tied on the bottle and sent it up.
The wind swirled through the trees and Patrick could feel the rain in the air. “You know this isn’t going to solve anything, Davy. You’re going to have to come down sooner or later. You can’t just run off when things don’t go the way you want.”
“What do you care? Anyway, I’m not going back to the shelter.”
“I care a lot, or I wouldn’t have ridden out here to find you. You have everyone worried.”
“Everybody hates me. I cause trouble and get into fights. I just get so mad….”
Patrick could hear the frustration in the child’s voice. It broke his heart to listen to the boy. He knew how he felt.
“You’ve got to learn to control your anger, use it on something else. Because if you don’t, it’s going to get you into trouble.”
“I’m in trouble all the time.” The boy’s voice broke. “My mom said I was no good—just like my daddy.”
Patrick shut his eyes. How many times had Davy heard these words? It doesn’t take much for a child to believe the things a parent says. Patrick pushed aside the bad thoughts. It was time he helped rebuild this child’s self-esteem.
“You know, Davy, my old man used to tell me I was no good, too.”
“He did?”
Patrick stood. “Yeah. I’m going to tell you something if you promise not to tell anyone.”
“I promise.”
“My dad used to hit me. I wasn’t much older than you.”
“Does he still hit you?”
“No. But for a long time, I was afraid that he’d come after me. So I kept running away. But until he died I ha
d to look out for my sisters.”
“Did he hit Nora?”
“No, I wouldn’t let him. I sent them away to hide so he couldn’t find them.”
“I wish I had you around.”
“I wish you had someone to protect you, too. But maybe I’m not the person you think I am.” The confession just poured out of him. “I have another secret. I’m always afraid that I’ll be just like my dad. That I’ll be mean and go around hitting people.”
There was a long pause. “Did you ever hit a kid?”
“No.” He couldn’t imagine ever raising his hand in anger, not to a child, or anyone. But there was that possibility with his family genes. That had been the reason he’d always walked away when angry. “No, I don’t want anyone to ever feel as bad as I did. You can ask Nora.”
“Nora is cool. She’s nice to me. I wish she was my sister.” He paused and Patrick heard a sniff. “I don’t have anybody. So nobody cares if I run away.”
“There are a lot of people who care, Davy,” Patrick said. “I care a lot about you. I would miss you if I didn’t get to see you. Every week, Nora and I keep watch to see if you get off the bus. We were sorry when you lost your privileges.”
“They aren’t ever going to let me come back to the ranch now.”
That was probably true. “Let’s not worry about that now. I think you should come down. It’s going to be dark in a little while.”
The wind swirled around, and the dark clouds made it seem much later than it was. Suddenly another rider appeared on the trail. Patrick recognized Daisy, but knew the rider wasn’t his sister. Then he saw the red hair. Cyndi?
What was she doing here?
“Look, Patrick. It’s Cyndi and Daisy.”
“I guess it is.” He wasn’t happy that she’d risked her own safety.
The horse and rider stopped by the tree and looked up. “Hey, Davy. I heard you got lost, so Daisy and I thought we’d help find you.”
“Cyndi, I thought you went away.”
“Not yet.”
Patrick walked up beside the horse. “Who let you come out here?”
Cynthia knew Patrick had every right to be upset, but she wasn’t going to let him intimidate her. “I didn’t ask. I saddled Daisy on my own. I knew Davy would need me.”
“I was handling it.”
She glanced up at the boy huddled on the limb. “I can see that.” She swung down from the saddle.
“In another ten minutes I would have had him down. He trusts me to help him.”
A strong gust of wind blew Cynthia’s hair, and some big drops of rain hit the ground. “Damn.”
“Patrick,” Davy called. “I’m getting wet. I want to get down, but I can’t.”
Patrick’s gaze bored into Cynthia’s. “It’s okay, son, I’m coming to get you.” He went to the tree, grabbed both ends of the rope and used it to shimmy up the trunk. By the time he reached Davy, the rain had become heavy.
“I’m glad you came to find me,” Davy declared.
“So am I.” Patrick swallowed back the dryness in his throat. “Let’s just get you out of the rain.”
“Okay.”
“Put your arms around my neck and I’ll get you down.”
The boy did as he was asked, and Patrick managed to lower them both to the ground. He carried Davy over to Ace and set him in the saddle, then draped a blanket around him as Cynthia climbed on Daisy and came up beside them.
“There isn’t time to make it back to the ranch,” Patrick yelled to her as the rain intensified. “We’ll head to the line shack. Stay close,” he ordered as he climbed up behind Davy.
Cynthia was soaked, but she didn’t much care. She didn’t care that Patrick was angry with her, either. What else was new? All she cared about was Davy.
In minutes they reached the cabin. Patrick climbed down, then set Davy on the covered porch. He ordered her to take the boy inside while he secured the horses. Cyndi quickly dismounted and handed him her reins before ushering the soaked child inside the cabin.
He shivered. “I’m cold, Cyndi.”
“I know. I’ll get you warm in a little while.” She went to the bunk and pulled the blanket off the mattress. Intimate memories of her and Patrick’s time here flooded back, but she pushed them away. Now she needed to take care of Davy.
Cynthia wiped the water from his face and hair, then draped the blanket around his small shoulders. After seating him on the chair, she pulled off his boots and continued stripping off his clothes until he was down to his underwear. All the while he fought to keep covered by the blanket.
Just then Patrick burst through the door, a pile of firewood in his arms. He went to the stove and opened it. After preparing the wood, he lit a match and the flame caught hold. “Give it a few minutes, and we’ll have some heat.”
He tossed his hat on the counter, then turned to Cyndi. “Get those clothes off,” he barked at her.
Cynthia suddenly realized she was soaked, too. “And put on what?”
Patrick went to the bunk, reached underneath for a box and took out two more gray wool blankets. “Hurry up before you get sick. The temperature has to have dropped fifteen degrees with this front.”
Cynthia could hear the heavy rain beating on the metal roof as she sat on the corner of the bunk and took off her boots. When she looked up, Patrick had already stripped out of his shirt. He didn’t have a problem walking around half dressed.
“How long do you think we’ll be here?” she asked, careful to stay covered with a blanket as she shimmied out of her jeans.
Patrick watched her action and his gaze darkened. “We’re not leaving anytime soon. Probably not until tomorrow.”
“Wow, that’s cool,” Davy said. “It’s like we’re camping.”
Patrick wanted to be angry with Davy, but he was too relieved the boy was safe. “Yeah, cool,” he murmured as he pulled out his cell phone. People needed to know they were safe and had made it to shelter. When he ended the call, he walked to the window to check out the terrain, but the visibility was nil.
Nightfall would be closing in on them soon and he was trapped with a woman he wanted more than his next breath—and a little boy who needed a few breaks in life.
Around nine o’clock, Patrick’s body was begging for sleep. But with Cyndi so close to him it was impossible. He could smell her, could almost feel her heat.
Earlier, he’d been able to distract himself. He’d busied himself with heating up some canned soup and gathering more firewood. He’d strung their clothes on a line, hoping they’d dry before morning. After pulling the mattresses from the bunks and placing them in front of the fire, he knew it was going to be a long night.
At least he’d given Cyndi his undershirt to sleep in so he didn’t have to think about her being naked and so close. He groaned. He wasn’t going to survive.
With only Davy tucked in between them, how was he supposed to sleep? Not. And listening to her tossing, he doubted Cyndi was doing much better.
“You know,” he said, “if you hadn’t gone crazy and ridden out here, you wouldn’t be sleeping on the floor in a musty cabin.”
She rolled on her side and propped her head on her hand, allowing her red mane to fall against her shoulder. “As if I wasn’t going to help find Davy,” she whispered. “Besides, Nora said he was upset. It was my fault. I know what it’s like to have a promise broken.”
“It was still foolish,” he said, his voice low, not wanting to wake the sleeping child. “You could have been hurt, or fallen off Daisy.”
“No one asked you to worry.”
Just how was he supposed to stop worrying?
“Besides, I didn’t fall off. And we found Davy and he’s safe.” Cynthia glanced down at the child curled close to her. “We’re all safe, Patrick. Tomorrow we’ll get back to the ranch and I’ll be out of your hair.”
“You were never in my hair,” he insisted.
Cyndi frowned.
“Okay, maybe at first,” he
confessed. “It’s just that we let things get too personal.”
“Kind of like you have with Davy.”
She was right. He had let the kid get to him. He’d been thinking about going further and doing something about becoming his foster parent. Yeah, he was going off the deep end, all right.
“I think it’s wonderful,” she said. “I’m glad someone has gotten to you.” She started to turn away, but he reached for her.
God, he hated to see her so hurt. “Cyndi, it’s not that I don’t care about you… Ah, hell.” He placed his hand behind her head and leaned toward her till his mouth met hers. The kiss deepened and raced to the hunger they both felt every time they touched. But Patrick had to be strong, to be the one to let her go. Again.
Cynthia Reynolds was leaving tomorrow. He wasn’t going to hold her back, and he wasn’t going to make it any harder for either of them.
He heard Davy’s voice and released her.
“You’re squishing me.”
“Sorry,” Patrick said. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
“That’s okay. I wasn’t asleep.”
There was a long silence, only the crackling of the fire. “Patrick, why did you kiss Cyndi?” the boy asked.
Patrick’s gaze shot to the surprised look on Cyndi’s face. “I was just saying goodnight.”
The rain continued to pound on the roof. “Oh. You like her.” Davy giggled. “I like her, too. She’s pretty.”
Patrick fought a grin, but lost. “Hey, you’re too young to notice girls.”
Cyndi kissed Davy’s cheek. “No, you’re never too young for that.”
“Now you kiss Patrick,” he told Cyndi.
Cyndi looked at Patrick in the dim firelight. “Oh, I think he’s had enough kisses.”
“No, I could never have enough,” he whispered. He leaned over and kissed her softly.
They all settled back against the pillows. It was Davy who spoke. “Cyndi, is it okay to pretend sometimes?”
“Sure,” she said.
“Good, because I’m pretending that just for tonight you’re my mom and Patrick is my dad.”
What a Man Needs Page 14