“I didn’t want you to turn out like he did. I thought I could beat some sense into you, but you were so stubborn. Then that stupid diary of yours sent him to prison. He died there! My son died without me by his side. You took away my son and now you want to take away my home.”
Cheryl sat back and stared at her grandmother. She thought of all the fear and shame this woman had caused and she wanted to hate her, but all she felt was pity. She took a deep breath, hoping the right words would come. “The Bible tells us to forgive our enemies. I haven’t had much time to study it, but that was one message I did understand. I thought forgiving you would make me a weaker person. But it doesn’t. It makes me a stronger person. Someday, I hope we can find a way to get past the anger and bitterness of those years.
“I was a lonely, scared kid with no one to confide in, so I wrote down the things I couldn’t tell you or anyone. I was angry at the world and I wanted to hurt someone as much as I was hurting. I wanted my dad to pay attention to me so I did the one thing he was sure to notice. I helped him steal cattle from our neighbors.
“I don’t know how Angie found my diary or why she took it to school with her. I don’t even know how Mrs. Hardin wound up with it.”
Eleanor gave her a sad smile. “One of the boys at school, a bully, his name doesn’t matter, took her book bag and dumped it out on the playground. I saw what happened and came to help her pick up her papers. The book had fallen open to the last entry you had made. I couldn’t help seeing what you wrote. I had to tell the sheriff.”
“I know. I understand. Grandmother, you have my word that you can stay at the ranch for as long as you like, only please tell us where the twins are.”
“I don’t know. I don’t know.” She burst into tears.
Eleanor sat beside the weeping woman. “I believe you, Doris. It will be okay. Merci will take you home, now.”
“I’d rather stay and help find the girls,” Merci announced.
Eleanor raised one eyebrow. “You brought her here, you should take her home. I think you’ve helped enough for one day.” There was no mistaking the order in her quiet tone.
Merci helped the still-weeping woman to her feet and they left together.
“Sam, where could the girls be?” Cheryl asked, sick with worry.
He raked a hand through his hair. “A hundred places. Let’s spread out and check everywhere again. Check every cupboard and closet.”
Nodding, Eleanor and Cheryl began searching the house while the men searched outside.
“Anything?” Eleanor asked when they met up with Walter and Sam by the barn door.
“Nothing,” Sam said. “How could two little girls disappear without a trace? Has anyone else been here?”
“Only the cattle buyer,” Walter answered.
“How well do you know him?” Cheryl asked, her voice tight.
Sam looked at her in disbelief. “What are you saying?”
“I’m asking, how well do you know the man?” she snapped.
“Elmer Reed picked up the cattle,” Walter answered.
“Where was the trailer headed, and when did it leave?” Sam asked, trying to rein in his growing fear.
“He was going to drop the heifers off in Abilene and then deliver the bulls to a ranch down by Wichita. He left an hour ago.”
“Wichita? Did the girls know where the trailer was going?” Cheryl demanded.
Walter nodded. “Yes, I heard Reed tell them where he was taking the cattle.”
“I told the twins that I would be staying with my sister in Wichita. Could they have gotten into the trailer without the driver knowing it?”
Walter shook his head. “They wouldn’t be able to get in back with the cattle. There’s no way they could lift the end gate. The trailer did have a side compartment, but they’re too little to reach the door handle.”
Cheryl’s gaze flew to the bucket sitting a few feet away, and she pointed. “What if they stood on that?”
Sam followed her across the yard. Small muddy boot prints and paw prints decorated the top of an overturned white plastic five-gallon bucket.
“This is where the trailer was parked, wasn’t it?” Cheryl looked to Walter and back to Sam.
“Okay.” Sam bowed his head a moment. He had to think straight, he couldn’t let his fear get in the way. “Walter, get the information on where those cattle are being delivered. Call the people and let them know what’s going on. The trailer should be almost to Abilene by now. Then notify the Highway Patrol and have them start looking for it. Mom, check with the neighbors to see if anyone has seen the girls. This may turn out to be a wild goose chase. If it is, we’ll need to organize a search party and have them spread out from the ranch on foot.” He started toward his truck.
“Where are you going, Sam?” his mother called after him.
“I think Cheryl is right. I think they hitched a ride to Wichita on that trailer. I’m going to try and catch up with them. Walter, raise me on the radio if you hear anything.”
“Right.”
Cheryl hurried after Sam. He had started the pickup by the time she yanked open the door. He glared at her as she climbed in. “What do you think you’re doing?”
She slammed the door closed. “I’m coming with you.”
“No, you’re not.”
“You don’t have time to drag me out of here, so drive.”
“Your sister will be here soon.”
“She’ll wait.”
He hesitated an instant, then he shoved the truck into gear and tore out of the yard.
He flew down the highway well over the legal speed limit. Several times, he glanced at Cheryl. She sat silent and tight-lipped beside him, a worried frown etched on her face. Twenty minutes later, he slowed for the wide spot in the road that was the town of Delavan. Cheryl continued to stare straight ahead, but he saw her lip quiver before she bit down on it.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes.”
His grip tightened on the wheel. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”
She fixed her gaze on him. “At first, because I thought I would be gone in a day or two, and it wouldn’t matter.”
“And later?”
She looked away. “Later, I was afraid that it would matter.”
“I wish you had trusted me.”
She sighed. “What was I supposed to say? ‘Oh, by the way, did I mention my family used to steal cattle, and I spent time in jail for helping?’ That’s a little hard to work into after-dinner conversation.” She stared down at her hands. “I thought if you found out, you wouldn’t want me near the girls.”
“I thought we had more going for us than after-dinner conversation.” He couldn’t help the bitterness that crept into his voice.
“I’m sorry. You’re right. The truth is—I was trying to protect myself. Running away, hiding from my past had become an ingrained habit. You can’t imagine what it was like, being mocked and worse because my name was Thatcher. I wanted to bury who I was and never dig her up. You helped me see that I had to face my past. You showed me how people of faith live. I wanted to be a woman like that. That’s why I went to see Jake today. I was coming back to tell you everything. I never wanted to hurt you, or the children. If you can’t believe anything else, I hope you’ll believe that.”
“I do.”
She raked a hand through her hair. “I shouldn’t have let them out of my sight. I knew how upset they were.”
“This isn’t your fault.” He shook his head. “If they hadn’t hitched a ride on this trailer, they would’ve hatched some other harebrained plan.”
A small grin lifted some of the worry from her face. “They are imaginative.”
He tried for a lighter tone. “Do me a favor, will you? When you’re back in New York, keep an eye out for them. There’s no telling how soon they’ll think of a way to visit you.”
“Maybe their father could bring them,” she suggested softly.
He glanced at her. �
�Yes, maybe he could.”
Hope began to unfurl in Cheryl’s heart. Sam had been hurt by the way she had deceived him, but perhaps he could forgive her, in time.
She stared straight ahead. The highway ran west in a long silver ribbon between vast stretches of prairie. In most places, the hills were little more than acres of charred ground where the spring fires had swept across them. Boulders and stones protruded from the burnt ashes like white bones, but here and there, new green life was beginning to show as the resilient grass sprouted again.
The bright sunlight dimmed, and she realized towering thunderheads had blocked out the afternoon sun. The radio crackled as Walter’s voice came on. “Sam, do you read me? Over.”
Sam picked up the mike and answered him. “Go ahead, Walter.”
“The trailer arrived in Abilene twenty minutes ago. The twins had been in it, but they must have gotten out somewhere along the route. All they found was one of their hats in the feed compartment.”
“Did the driver say where he stopped?”
“We figure he made about eight stops, mostly at intersections. Three of those would be in towns along the route, three would be rural intersections. He says he stopped once for a train on Highway Fifteen and once at a narrow bridge to let a combine go through. He thinks that was on this side of Herington, but he can’t be sure.
“Eight stops in sixty miles. That doesn’t narrow the search much.”
“The Highway Patrol and the county sheriff are questioning him now. They’ll start working their way back from Abilene to here.”
“Okay. We’re just west of Delavan, Walter. Keep us posted.” Sam turned on the wipers as big drops splattered the windshield.
“We’ll find them, Sam. I know we will. I have faith.” Cheryl didn’t know if she was trying to reassure Sam or herself.
Like a hamster on an exercise wheel, her mind ran over and over all the dire possibilities. They could have been picked up by anyone—a kindly farmer or a dangerous stranger. They could be scared and hiding so that even the right people couldn’t find them. She tried to ignore the possibility that they might have tried to jump out of the moving trailer and be lying injured in a ditch somewhere along this road. Her eyes searched through the rain-streaked glass for any sign of them as Sam drove westward.
The storm brought an early gloom to the late afternoon. Sam turned on the headlights. The road curved then dipped down to cross a narrow creek. Their headlights swung past an old abandoned church falling into ruins in a grove of trees at the road’s edge. A yellow cat sat licking its paw on the sagging railing of a little portico. The passing headlights reflected briefly in its eyes.
Cheryl twisted around in her seat. “Sam, did you see that?”
Chapter Sixteen
Sam braked the truck sharply. “What did you see?”
“Bonkers is back there on the church steps.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes—no! I don’t know. It was a big, yellow cat. Please, we have to go check.”
He turned the truck on the narrow highway and drove back, but the headlights revealed only an empty porch.
“I know it was Bonkers.” Cheryl opened the door, and shouted for the twins.
“Cheryl, get in. You’re getting soaked. We aren’t near any of the places the driver said he stopped. There must be a hundred yellow cats between here and Abilene.”
“I tell you, Sam, it was Bonkers.” Determined to prove she wasn’t mistaken, Cheryl crossed the overgrown churchyard and started up the dilapidated steps.
She tried the front door. It opened a few inches, but stuck fast on the warped wooden floor. From inside, she heard a faint meow. “Lindy? Kayla? Are you in there?”
“Cheryl, is—”
“—that you?”
Relief poured through her at the sound of their voices. Thank You, dear Lord. “Sam, they’re in here.”
He was beside her in an instant. “Are you girls all right?” he called.
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Can you come and get us?”
“They’re all right.” Relief made Cheryl lightheaded.
Sam grabbed the wedged door and pulled, but stopped when a loud groaning sound issued from the building overhead. “I can’t get in, girls. Can you get out?”
“No, the floor fell down.”
“All by itself.”
“We didn’t do it.”
Sam stepped back and began to look for another way in. Moving around to the side of the building, he saw that the center section of the roof had fallen in and bare rafters jutted out like broken ribs. The steeple and the ends of the building leaned precariously inward. He listened to the old boards creaking and groaning in the rising wind.
A streak of lightning flashed and thunder rolled in an ominous cadence across the prairie as the grove of trees around them bent low in a gust of wind. He glanced in fear at the slanting steeple of the old church. He had to get the girls out.
On the north side of the building, he found a large section of the wall had fallen in, and he made his way toward the gaping hole. The ground around the church lay littered with piles of old junk.
He stopped at the hole and peered in through the fallen wall. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the gloom. Years ago, someone had pulled up the floorboards and left only the floor joists in place. They stretched like an empty tic-tac-toe game above a deep cellar. A small section of the roof had caved in and caught on them. The twins sat huddled on a few fallen boards almost directly across the building from him.
Between him and the girls stood thirty feet of empty space. Below them lay a hazard filled pit.
People had been using the cellar of the abandoned church as a junk heap for decades. Scrap lumber, hundreds of broken bottles, rusted tin cans, rolls of barbed wire, broken bits of farm machinery and assorted debris covered the deep cellar floor.
“Daddy, come get us,” Lindy called as she sat with her arms around Kayla. Bonkers lay beside them.
“Okay, honey, I will. Just stay still.” Sam searched for a way to reach them. “How did you get out there?”
“We followed Bonkers in, but the floor fell down, and we couldn’t get back. I told Kayla we could walk out like Bonkers did on those boards, but she’s scared. She thinks she’ll fall.”
He blanched at the thought of the girls trying to walk across the old beams above the wreckage-filled pit. The gusty wind would make the trip dangerous even for the cat. There had to be a better way.
“Stay there, girls, don’t move,” he called. “I’ll come and get you.”
But how? Desperately, he studied the wreck of a building looking for a way to reach his children. The rain fell in earnest now. Dropping to one knee beside him, Cheryl began to undo the splint on her ankle.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I’m going to walk over there and carry them out, but I can’t do it with this splint on,” she answered, working the straps loose.
Sam dropped beside her and grasped her wrist, stopping her. “Are you crazy? Did you look down there? Even if that old wood is strong enough to hold you, you can’t do it on a broken foot. If you fall into that junk heap, you’d be lucky to walk again, let alone dance.” The driving rain soaked both of them as they stared at each other.
“Have you got a better idea?” she asked. “You’re the architect. Will that roof hold if the wind gets worse?”
He looked at the old bell tower leaning inward over the sagging roof and shook his head. “I can’t see what’s keeping it up now. It looks like it would come down if a pigeon landed on it.”
“I can do this, Sam.”
He studied her face for a long moment. He didn’t see fear or hesitation, only determination in the bright blue eyes that stared back at him. She was willing to do this for his children. She was willing to risk her career, maybe even her life. Another strong gust of wind drove the rain into his face, and he wiped it away with his hand. Lightning flashed close by, followed by t
he sharp crack of thunder. The old building gave a creaking moan as it shifted.
“How can I let you do this?” he muttered.
“Hey, cowboy, the question is, how are you going to stop me?”
He gazed at her and knew she was telling the truth. She loved his daughters enough to risk everything for them.
Thunder rumbled again in the leaden sky, and Sam rose to his feet. “I’ve got a rope. Maybe I can rig a safety line for you.” He turned and ran for the truck.
“Hurry, Sam,” Cheryl called after him. She unbuckled the last strap and pulled her foot out. Sharp needles of pain stabbed through her instep as she stood. Gritting her teeth, she began to walk back and forth testing her strength and balance. Another groan from the old timbers of the building caused her to look up in fear. She heard the twins calling, and she stepped up to the gaping hole in the wall.
“Are you coming, Cheryl?” Kayla called.
“You bet I am, sweetheart. I’ll come right over.”
“Hurry, please. I’m cold.” Lindy called.
“It won’t be long now,” Cheryl promised.
Sam returned with a coiled rope. “If I can get this over one of those rafters, I’ll be able to hold you up if you fall.” He gave a pointed look at her bare feet. “How’s the foot?”
“Okay.”
“Are you sure?” He made a toss with the rope and missed.
“I’m sure.”
The next toss of the rope went over the exposed rafter. He caught the dangling end and jerked on it. The beam held.
He turned to her and held out a loop. “Put this around your waist.” She did, and he tightened it, then gathered up the slack. “Ready?”
She nodded and carefully tested the beam in front of her. “I think it will hold, but I’m going to need some way to secure them to me so I can have my hands free for balance.”
Sam pulled a small pocketknife from his jeans, cut a length of rope from his end, and handed it to her. She knotted it and slipped it over her head and one shoulder, then she stepped out onto the beam with her arms raised from her sides and concentrated on finding her center of balance.
Love Thine Enemy Page 19