Beside me, Audie stirred and pulled me to his side. We snuggled for a minute, until Junior pressed on my bladder. By the time I finished, Audie was sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing fists over his tired eyes. He sniffed the air. “Mother’s making her honey almond coffee cake.” He perked up.
Did his eyes ever light up when he smelled something of mine cooking? Stop worrying about it. He didn’t marry me for my cooking skills. Junior kicked me as if in agreement. Maybe someday our son would think Mom’s cooking was the best and drive his bride crazy. I grinned at the thought and decided to thank Gilda for her extra work.
“Good morning?” Gilda called out as she knocked on the door.
“Good morning, Gilda. Come in,” I called.
She peeked in the bedroom. “Are you folks ready for some breakfast?”
Audie jumped into his jeans and sprinted for the door. I took the time to set out clothes for the morning—a contemporary outfit of jeans and a light sweater. The early morning air might hold a chill.
My feet sped up a tad when I smelled the wonderful aromas coming from the kitchen. Fresh brewed coffee, sizzling applewood bacon, that coffee cake—honey almond, is that how Audie described it? Almond, definitely.
By the time I reached the table, Audie had already cut us each a big piece. If the cake tasted as good as it smelled and looked, with a honey glaze drizzled across the top and a dusting of almonds, I was in for a treat. I poured myself that precious first cup of coffee of the day—often my only cup of the real stuff these days, although today might call for more. Maybe adrenaline would keep me awake. Gilda placed a platter of bacon and eggs in the middle of the table and sat with us. She must have been cooking for at least an hour.
Audie said a brief prayer—concentrating on Dina’s safety more than the food—and we dug in. He took a big bite, swallowed and sighed. “I could always tell when Mother was worried about something. She’d disappear into the kitchen and come out with feasts like this one.”
“Not always.” Gilda broke up a piece of perfectly-crisp bacon and plopped it in her mouth. “Sometimes I was missing my Oma. She’s the one who taught me everything I know about cooking. But today, yes, I’m worried. About your sister. I didn’t hear the phone ring?”
I shook my head. After Frances chased us away from the Circle G, promising to call us if she heard anything, we reassembled at Dad’s house. Someone—probably Enid, she thought of details like that—had stopped by and turned off the oven. We picked at the dried up ham, gave it up, and settled for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Dina’s favorite, with strawberry jam. My stomach twisted.
Noah tagged along. He had taken part in the search that afternoon. His sunglasses remained off, and his eyes looked a little bloodshot. None of the rest of us looked any better. Too many tears could do that to a person. Maybe he really did care for my sister.
The cake which melted on my tongue turned bitter in my throat, and I had to choke it down.
“I don’t know your family well, at least not yet, but I admired the way you rallied together yesterday.” Gilda speared a mound of light scrambled eggs onto her fork. “It reminded me of the times my family gathered at Oma’s house. Whenever things went wrong, there was always family.”
Was this Gilda talking, or had some alien taken over her body?
“Not everyone is blessed as you are to have such a loving family. And you all live so close to each other.”
If she resented the fact that her son had married someone so far away from her own home, her tone didn’t betray the fact.
“The fact you all know our Savior. That makes you family twice over, as close to perfect as you can get in this life. Oma used to say her faith in God was the most important thing she brought to America from the old country. Knowing God was the same yesterday, today and tomorrow meant a lot to a new bride in a strange new land.”
It was the most Gilda had talked about her family since I had met her, and I wanted to learn more—but another time. We had to search for Dina this morning.
Gilda patted my hand. “You can take comfort in that same fact. Wherever your sister is, God is with her. She can’t hide any place that God cannot find her.”
“Thank you.” I managed to eat some of the bacon and eggs, before my heart insisted I start the search for Dina again. I struggled to my feet.
Gilda took my plate to the sink and rinsed it off. She picked up something from the counter top and brought it to me. I looked at the ordinary three-by-five card. It read “Oma’s honey almond cake,” copied in Gilda’s precise hand. I glanced through the ingredients. Yogurt? That surprised me.
“I have been waiting for over thirty years to have a daughter to share Oma’s recipe with. And now, at long last, I have you.”
That did me in. I cried, Gilda cried, even Audie dabbed at his eyes. Our tears flowed for any number of reasons, part worry about Dina, part brokenness about all the bad things I had thought about my mother-in-law, part thankfulness for Audie’s heritage that now belonged to our family.
The phone interrupted the intimate moment.
“Are you ready?” Jenna demanded. I glanced at the clock. Quarter of six.
“Give me five.” Audie and I dressed in record time. I barely passed a comb over my hair. Why bother? Brambles abounded in the woods and would snag my curls. We dressed within the promised five minutes, but Jenna knocked on the door before we finished. I doubted she had seen this time of day for years, not since she used to stay up all night. Gilda surprised me by leaving the dishes and instead putting on her sweater.
“I want to help.”
How could I argue with that?
She carried a thermos full of coffee and a large paper bag. Knowing her, she had probably slapped together a dozen sandwiches and wrapped up the rest of the honey cake. Today I appreciated her thoughtfulness.
The nip in the air made me shiver in spite of my sweater, and I reached for a sweatshirt, the only one that fit me these days. I looked out in the gloom, Dad’s silhouette visible in the front seat. I didn’t see any sign of Noah. “How is Dad taking it?”
Jenna shook her head. “He’s functioning on autopilot. I—I told him about Brad last night.” She sighed. “I should have told him long ago. He got real quiet, even quieter than usual, the way he does when he’s upset.”
Poor Dad. The timing couldn’t have been much worse. He might feel like he lost Dina twice on the same day, once because of her disappearance, once because he learned about her biological father, after all his years of standing in as her dad.
“Let’s hustle.” Jenna stuck her hands in her jeans pockets. “It’ll be dawn before we know it.”
Audie drove the miles out to the ranch like an old-timer. I remembered how he had gawked at the cattle the first time he had visited the Circle G. Now he drove without a second glance. “What was the clue after the one about the first gleam of dawn?”
I dug in my purse for the notebook. “18: 4. ‘The words of a man’s mouth are deep waters, but the fountain of wisdom is a bubbling brook.’”
“So, if they do go in order, then my guess is that we’re looking for water of some kind when we look at dawn’s first gleam.”
“Of course! There’s a stream that runs through the ranch.” Bob Grace had claimed that plot in the land run for that reason. I felt like slapping myself in the head. Why hadn’t we checked there last night? Because none of us were thinking clearly, and I couldn’t turn back the clock for a do-over.
The eastern sky had begun its shift to a softer blue when we arrived at the ranch house. Cord and Frances emerged from the barn, leading horses. “I thought we would ride to the tree. If anyone else wants to join us, we have extra mounts.”
Jenna and Dad swung onto saddles. Audie shook his head. He didn’t feel comfortable on horseback, and besides, he wanted to stay with me. Gilda also refused the offer. That didn’t surprise me.
Cord tossed the keys to his Jeep to Audie. “Better for the terrain than your car. We�
��ll ride ahead and show you the best path.”
Audie didn’t handle the Jeep as smoothly as Cord had the day before. Junior complained at every bounce, and my back ached. Soon enough, we reached the lightning tree. Pale pink shone at the brim of the horizon. We had arrived in time.
“So, now what do we do?” Cord rubbed his hands together. “Exactly how does the clue read?”
“It’s from Proverbs 4:18. ‘The path of the righteous is like the first gleam of dawn,’” I replied.
“At dawn?” Frances asked.
“That’s what we’re assuming. Oh, thanks.” Audie took the cup of coffee his mother offered. “Something that can be seen only at dawn.”
“But not necessarily to the east.” I don’t know why I hadn’t realized that before.
“We think it may refer to something in, or near, the stream that runs through the property. At least the last clue talks about deep waters and bubbling brooks.”
“Deep waters could mean a spring, or a well.” Gilda made that suggestion as she poured a final cup of coffee for Dad.
“The well’s back closer to the house,” Cord said.
“Let’s decide, folks.” Jenna grew agitated. “Dawn isn’t going to wait for us.”
In the end, we arrayed ourselves in a circle. I concentrated on my arc of the circle, although I had to fight the temptation to look everywhere at once. Both Jenna and Cord had the brook in their line of vision.
I was facing due east. As the golden rays crept above the horizon, I realized how foolish it was to think I could see anything in its brilliance. The rays blinded me and obscured everything in their path. I squinted and used my hand to shade my eyes. Trees heavy with fruit became distinguished one from the other. I hoped the clue didn’t refer to something that could only be seen when the leaves had fallen from the trees. No, I decided. Larry last visited the ranch in the summer. I took a sip of coffee.
Around me I heard shifting feet, small mutterings and dejected sighs. Then Jenna jumped.
“I see something! There it is!”
26
The Waller’s two oldest children stayed behind in Arkansas, but their four younger ones followed them to Oklahoma. Their only daughter, Hannah, married Robert Ruske, and they in turn had three children of their own. Sandra Ruske married Woody Wilde after World War II. Their youngest son, Nate, married one of the Gaynor girls. Their granddaughter Frances recently wed Grace heir Cord Grace.
From A History of Grace Gulch
Monday, September 25
We all clustered around Jenna and stared in the direction she pointed. Up ahead, where the first rays of dawn bounced off the water, something reflected the sunshine back at us.
Audie sprinted in the direction of the gleam.
“No time to waste,” Jenna said. “We’ve got to find the source before the sun’s all the way up.” She dashed after him.
Dad and Cord ran after Audie like ants in a line. Frances frowned at Gilda and me, the laggards. “Stay here and let us know if the light changes position.” Then she dashed after the others.
Gilda looked at me, and for an instant I could see the same mischievous grin that played around Audie’s mouth from time to time. “I don’t intend for everyone else to have all the fun.” She started out at a moderate pace, one I could match even with Junior slowing me down.
“Audie won’t like it.” We shared a conspiratorial smile. Low-hanging branches, laden with fruit, forced us to duck our heads. Ahead of us we heard their calls and followed.
A branch snapped behind me. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” Gilda panted a bit. Neither one of us was in shape for any kind of chase.
“It was nothing.” I didn’t want to worry her, but I increased my pace a bit. Here we were, two fairly defenseless females, all alone in among the trees. . .Stop it. I gave myself a stiff talking to. You know every square inch of the Circle G. There’s nothing to fear.
My mind argued back. Dina probably thought the same thing, and she’s missing. Brad, a full-grown man in the prime of life, wouldn’t have expected trouble either.
No more twigs snapped, the only sound the quiet crunch of the orchard floor beneath our feet. I shook off the sense of unease. Every now and then we’d catch a glimpse of water. Each sighting sped us up a bit more, until we caught up with the others at the bank of the stream.
Audie saw us approach, and a frown flitted across his face. I felt safer knowing he was near after my scare in the trees, but he didn’t need to know that. He shrugged his shoulders, as if to say what else should I expect from those two, and waved us over.
By now the sun had risen completely, and the glint disappeared. The water level had fallen from its spring high point. Cord splashed across the stream, shallow now, and thumped his fist on a large rock. “I think this is what we saw—mica.” He poked around the boulder.
The food Gilda had urged on me came up in my throat. Had we come this far on a fool’s errand, mistaking mica for Larry’s clue about the first gleam of dawn?
Frances crossed the stream next. “Someone came this way not long ago. Someone else.”
Maybe we were right.
Frances put on what I called her detective’s face, all business. She shooed Cord away from the rock and approached it with all the caution of a forensic specialist. “The rest of you stay put while I check it out.”
Junior urged me to move in spite of her warning, but I obeyed. Her caution was the right approach, no matter how much we all wanted to barge ahead.
“Someone has definitely been here recently. Probably more than one.”
Her tone left no room for doubt. But who? To what purpose?
“Can you tell who it might have been?” Jenna asked.
“You mean like a telltale shoeprint with a unique design?” Frances shook her head. “Nothing so dramatic. It could be Dustin on her way to the hives, kids looking for a private place, any number of things.”
“That’s it!” Jenna snapped her fingers. “We used to hang out in a cave near here when we were teens. No wonder it looks so familiar.” She started across the stream, then stopped long enough to ask Frances, “Is it okay?”
At Frances’ nod, Jenna skipped through the water and walked along the bank, scanning the vegetation for a hidey hole.
A cave? Jenna knew about a cave on the Circle G property and had forgotten about it until now? A cave that Cord didn’t know about? I wanted to grind my teeth into a powder and make her drink it.
“I think I would know about a cave.” Doubt crept into Cord’s voice.
“I don’t think it’s actually on the Circle G. Probably on Kirkendalls. That was part of the thrill, sneaking past the abandoned house and pretending it was haunted. I never came at it from this direction before.” Jenna continued walking, eyes glued to the ground like a bloodhound on the hunt.
Audie looked at his mother and me. “I don’t suppose I can convince you to turn around and go back?”
I remembered the snapping twig and emphatically shook my head. “No way.”
Audie studied the banks. “If you’re going to cross the stream, this is the best place to do it.”
I didn’t wait for a second invitation, but rolled up my pants legs above my boot tops and waded into the water. Mud sucked at the soles, but I made the crossing in good shape. Audie helped Gilda across, leading her from one exposed stone to another. She didn’t get a toe wet in the crossing.
Jenna had stopped at a spot a few feet up the bank. “It should be here.” She pointed to a dead oak tree faded into driftwood beige years ago. “We marked the spot by that. We could glimpse of the Kirkendall barn from here. Huh, look at that, they changed the roof color.” She rooted around the overhang. Frances joined her.
I sat down on the boulder and waited. From that vantage point I saw a break in the vegetation that didn’t look quite right. That brought me to my feet faster than a customer at my store, and I grabbed at the concealing foliage, tearing it away.
“That’s it!” Jenna joined me. Our efforts revealed a large granite boulder, about the size of a ball of hay.
“They blocked the entrance,” I said. Of course they did. If someone had hidden Dina and Brad in the recesses of a cave, they would make sure they couldn’t get out on their own. If they were alive and able-bodied enough to attempt escape. Stop it. I refused to let my mind continue down that road. My sister was alive. I had to believe it.
Cord put his shoulder into pushing away the boulder, but it didn’t budge. He stood back, chagrinned, and dusted off his hands. “Okay, so how do we move it?”
Maybe an angel will come and roll away the stone. When I got giddy, I knew it was time for me sit down and catch my breath.
“Well, unless their captors have a whole platoon ready to move that thing, there has to be a way for us.” Audie finished clearing away the branches and studied the way the stone fit in place. Dad’s face screwed up in concentration, the way it did when he had a particularly nasty problem with the tractor.
“‘Give me a lever long enough and a fulcrum on which to place it, and I shall move the world.’ If it worked for Archimedes, it should work for us.” Audie threw out quotes other than Oscar Wilde every now and then to prove he wasn’t a one-writer fanatic.
Dad was already searching the creekbank for an appropriate lever. He found a good-sized branch, stripped clean of twigs and leaves, worn at one end. “I bet they used this.” He bent over, checked the dirt at the bottom of the boulder, and pointed to a spot. “Right there.” He swung the branch as easily as a backhoe might move a tree, and planted it in the spot he had found. Audie and Cord joined him in pushing down on the branch, and the rock moved to the side. A dark path not quite high enough for any of us to stand upright plunged straight ahead.
“I’m scared.” A voice floated up from the dark hole.
Darlene Franklin - Dressed for Death 03 - Paint Me a Murder Page 17