Everlasting Love (10 page)

She closed her eyes. “Oh, Father, please watch over Roxy. Zac, too. Keep them safe and bring them back to us. Please?”

The teardrops she'd just gotten through repudiating slipped over her lower lashes and slid silently down her cheeks. It was a lot easier to quote the verse about rejoicing in suffering than it was to actually live it, wasn't it? She sniffled. No kidding.

If she'd had her choice at that moment, she'd have traded all the patient and unswerving endurance the Bible promised for the knowledge her sister was safe.

“But it's not my decision,” she whispered. “So there's no use standing around stewing over it.”

Mustering her willpower, Megan splashed water on her face, quickly changed into something she felt was more appropriate for going into town, grabbed her purse and called Wiggles.

He bounded to her and began to wag all over.

“That's right. You get to go,” Megan told him. She opened the truck door and affirmed her invi
tation with a wave of her arm and a pleasant “Okay. Get in.”

The dog jumped up and took his usual place on the passenger side of the bench seat, head out the window, tongue lolling. Megan chuckled. By the time they added James Harris to their group, they were going to be pretty crowded. Oh, well. As the driver, she was assured of a comfortable place. James and Wiggles could divide the remaining space however they chose. That, alone, should make this trip interesting.

 

Heading slowly down the hill, she pulled over in front of the boys' dorm. Many cars and trucks, both official and private, still crowded the narrow dirt lane.

She honked. James came out immediately. He'd spruced up nicely, she noted. Clean jeans and a Western-style sport shirt had given him a rested look that added to his already-considerable charm.

Megan leaned forward to peer out at him past the dog. “Hi. Hope I didn't take too long.”

“No. I was just finishing up with the sheriff. He's promised to phone us if anything turns up.” As James approached the passenger side of the pickup he began to grin. “I see Wiggles is still okay.”

“Yes.” She watched the man pause to size up their furry companion and the available space.

“I thought the dog would be riding in the back of the truck,” he said.

“Nope. He always rides right there.”

“Do you want
me
to get in the back?”

Megan laughed lightly. “Of course not. Just shove him over and climb in. He can sit closer to me.”

“Lucky dog,” James muttered.

He opened the door and put one foot on the floorboard, rested his hip on the edge of the seat and gave Wiggles a push. Before the dog could recover enough to try to retake the window seat, James was all the way in and had slammed the door.

“Nice move,” Megan said.

“Thanks.”

“Ready? Got your seat belt on?”

“Almost. I found one end of it but I have no idea where the other end is. I think your dog is sitting on it.”

“Reach under him and dig it out. Wiggles won't care. He hasn't bitten anybody for at least a week.”

The ridiculous look on James's face when he peeked at her around the dog's ruff made Megan giggle. “Just kidding,” she said. “Hang on. I'll
help.” Giving a hand signal she ordered, “Wiggles. Up.”

The dog acted confused but did raise his rear enough to reveal the hidden clasp of the safety belt.

“Got it,” James said. “Thanks. I wasn't real eager to go poking around under him. Didn't want to make him mad.”

“You've never had any pets, have you?” Megan asked.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Well…”

“My youngest brother had a puppy once. He didn't take good care of it so I started to give it fresh water and stuff. It ran away and I got blamed. That's the closest I've ever gotten to a pet of my own.”

“You've missed a lot.”

James brushed at the loose dog hair clinging to the left leg of his jeans. “Yeah. I can see that.”

S
erenity was as peaceful and quaint as Megan had remembered. Though she'd only passed through it, she'd been impressed by the old-fashioned atmosphere, especially around the immense brick-and-stone government building in the center of the town square. Except for the presence of a few modern vehicles, the scene could have come straight off a picture postcard from the early 1900s.

“There's a little place on the square,” James said. “Bea's Family Café. They serve the best ham and eggs around. Why don't we stop for breakfast while we're in the neighborhood? A good meal will help us get our energy back.”

“I don't know…. I don't think we should be away from camp that long.”

“Nonsense. We have to eat. And today's oat
meal day up at camp. The way Inez cooks it, it's always lumpy. I don't know about you, but I could use some real food.”

“Lumpy, huh? Sounds appetizing.” Megan had to admit his description of the café food sounded a lot better than a bowl of oatmeal, with or without lumps. She slowed the truck. “Okay. Where is this place?”

“Right over there,” James said, pointing. “You can park across the street by the courthouse so the dog will have plenty of shade.”

“Where's the feed store from here?”

“Down the block behind the lumberyard. We can stop there on our way back.”

“Okay, if you're positive this won't take too long.”

She found a shady parking place, made sure Wiggles was comfortable and still feeling well, then rolled down both windows for ventilation before bidding him goodbye.

Crossing the street beside James she said, “I'll want to go back and check on him every fifteen minutes or so, just in case. He's acting fine, though.”

“Except that he seems to be rapidly going bald.” He brushed at his jeans again. “At this rate he won't have a hair left by tonight.”

Megan smiled. “I know it can seem that way. Actually, he's just shedding his winter coat. It'll get worse before it gets better.”

“Wonderful. Maybe you could save it all and knit him a sweater for afterward, in case he's cold.”

“Good idea. The color is definitely him.”

They were both chuckling when James held the café door for her and ushered her inside. The place reminded Megan of her late grandmother's house in Searcy, thanks mainly to the tantalizing aromas and checkered tablecloths.

Several old men who were seated at the counter glanced at the new arrivals. Their discussion ceased. Three other men and a boy, wearing camouflage hunting overalls and bright orange shirts, looked up from their breakfasts, too. All eyes centered on Megan.

She felt suddenly self-conscious. “Did I forget to comb my hair or something?”

“No. You're fine. They just haven't seen you before. Come on. Let's sit in the back corner so you can do some looking of your own and size everybody else up.”

“That'll work. Just so I can watch my truck.”

A waitress in blue jeans and a faded T-shirt that said Fulton County Homecoming approached with a steaming glass carafe and a big smile. “Morning, folks. What'll you have? Coffee?”

Megan smiled back. “Yes, please. And your ham and eggs. I understand they're great.”

“Comin' up,” the middle-aged woman said, filling both their mugs. “You staying at the camp with James, here?”

“Yes.”

“Any word on them two missing kids?”

James spoke up. “Not yet. The girl is Megan's sister.”

The waitress gave Megan's shoulder a motherly pat. “Well, bless your heart. Don't you worry, hon. My Bert and the whole volunteer fire department's on the job. They'll find her. So, how do you want those eggs? Over easy?”

“Scrambled, please.”

Megan marveled at how the woman had offered heartfelt reassurance, then gone right back to business as usual without missing a beat. She wished she had that ability. Rationally speaking, she knew it would be best to continue with her work while she waited for word of Roxy's fate. After all, a lot was riding on the success or failure of her animal therapy project. But how could she concentrate enough to function efficiently when her sister might be suffering?

Suffering? Ha! She's probably just off on a lark,
her subconscious countered.
As usual.
Roxy had bucked authority before. Plenty of times. And James had recently chastised her in public for
chasing after Aaron. It was likely the teenager had simply pretended to accept her scolding, intending to sneak off and do as she pleased as soon as everyone relaxed. That was far more probable than criminal mischief.

James reached across the table and laid his hand over hers. “What are you thinking about? You're frowning.”

“My sister. What else?” Megan said. “I was just trying to talk myself out of being so worried.”

“You're overtired. Things will seem better once you've had some rest.”

“I don't know. My time at Camp Refuge was too short to start with. I've already fallen behind schedule. I don't want to waste the day sleeping when I should be working with the boys.”

“Tell you what,” James said. “Give me a copy of your agenda and I'll help you catch up this afternoon, after we've both grabbed a few hours' shut-eye.” He smiled wryly. “All except for the horse stuff. I'll leave that to you.”

“What is it with you and horses?”

“It's a long story.”

She glanced in the direction of the café kitchen. “I seem to have time to listen.”

“What makes you think I want to tell you?”

“Humor me. I'm a psych major, remember?
Maybe I can help you get over your unnatural aversion to horses. Wouldn't you like that?”

“No.” One eyebrow arched. “I enjoy hating the stupid beasts. I don't even want to think about riding again.”

“Again? Now we're getting somewhere. When did you ride before?”

“In military school,” he said. “It was not the most wonderful part of my childhood, believe me. I fell off and broke my arm the first time I was ordered to canter. Being the new kid, I was also assigned the nastiest jobs, like cleaning out the stable. That's no picnic with your arm in a cast.”

“They made you do that? How horrible!”

Megan's heart went out to the boy he'd been. She recalled Inez comparing him to Zac. If James had been forced to do hard labor in the horse barn in spite of his painful injury, it was little wonder he'd formed such an intense dislike. Logic had nothing to do with gut-level reactions when a conflict was so deep-seated.

“I'm sorry you had such a trying time,” she said. “But don't you think it's good for our boys to learn that being around animals can be fun?”

A strange look came over him. “What did you say?”

“Animals can be fun.”

“No. Before that. You called them
our boys?
”

“A figure of speech.” Blushing, Megan got to her feet. “The air-conditioning in here is making me chilly. I'm going to go check on Wiggles and grab my jacket out of the truck. Be right back.”

“Sure. No problem.”

James stood politely as she left the table.
Our boys
kept echoing in his head. Every day with Megan held more surprises, didn't it?

He huffed.
Every day? How about every minute. Every second.
The woman was an enigma. Unfortunately, she was getting under his skin to a depth he'd thought impossible. There was something about her that drew him, compelling him to get to know her better, to figure out what made her so different from anyone else he'd ever met. When she'd told him she wanted to learn what made him tick, he hadn't dreamed he'd soon want the same from her.

Through the front window of the café he saw Megan open the truck door and step closer to examine Wiggles. Then she bowed her head and touched foreheads with the subdued dog, exchanging a wordless yet unmistakable empathy.

James marveled. The rapport she had with animals was truly a special gift. There were lots of people who never connected to anyone or any
thing with that much love and understanding their whole lives.

People like him.

Although he cared deeply for each boy who passed through his camp, he didn't dare let himself get too attached. In order to do his job efficiently he had to remain emotionally distant. That was one of the hardest lessons he'd had to learn, one he was still struggling to master, especially lately.

Zac Ewing's obvious emotional need had hit him like a punch in the stomach the moment the teen had arrived in camp. Seeing the kid's strutting, belligerent manner was like looking into a mirror and viewing himself, twenty years earlier.

James clenched his fists. They had to find Zac and reunite him with Bobby Joe. They just had to. And if Roxy White was in any way responsible for this mess, he was going to see that she was held accountable, no matter how he felt about her big sister.

Still staring out the window, he noticed a jump in his pulse when Megan started back across the street. How
did
he feel about her? He wished he knew. He could count on the fingers of one hand the number of folks who knew details of his dark days in military school, yet he'd opened up and blabbed to her like he had good sense.

At the time, the words had flowed easily. In retrospect, however, James was sorry he'd mentioned any weakness. If he expected to impress her—assuming he ever decided he wanted to—he wasn't going to accomplish it by admitting character flaws.

He rose as she rejoined him. “Is Wiggles okay?”

“Yes. Thanks. He sends you his love.” She slid into her chair. “Listen, I just noticed—”

James interrupted. “Before I forget, I need to clear up something. I'm afraid I may have given you the wrong impression. Actually, I liked almost everything about military school. Those teachers toughened me up, prepared me for the job I'm doing now.”

“I see.” Megan took a tentative sip of her still-steaming coffee. “So, your parents did you a favor by sending you away?”

He stiffened. “I'd hardly go that far.”

“You might consider it. I'm not saying their motives were pure or anything. But if you were as wild as Inez told me you were, their drastic decision may have saved you from a far worse fate than a broken arm.”

Giving that opinion time to sink in, Megan paused, then went on. “I wish there were a place
for my sister like that school. I thought the chance to bring her with me was the answer to my prayers.” She swallowed past the lump of emotion constricting her throat. “Apparently I was wrong. I'm sorry she's caused so much trouble. Running away is bad enough. Taking Zac with her is inexcusable.”

“Whoa. We don't know what actually happened.”

Megan sighed audibly. “I do. Now. That's what I was trying to tell you when I came back from the truck. My jacket is gone. I always keep a wind-breaker stashed behind the seat. It's not there now.”

“So? Maybe you forgot and left it in the cabin.”

“I'll look when we get home, but I don't think so. I think my sister took it.”

“What if she did? What difference does that make?” James was on the edge of his chair.

“A lot. It was really hot and humid the morning she and Zac disappeared. Remember? I was perspiring even before I started my chores. If Roxy hadn't been planning on staying out all night, why would she have needed a jacket, especially in weather like that?”

“Good question.” He pulled out his cell phone and began to punch in a number. “I'm calling the sheriff. He can check your cabin for us, just in
case, and relay the information to his teams if they don't find your jacket. What color was it?”

“Red,” she said. “Bright red.”

“Good. Should be easy to spot.”

Megan's optimism was quickly being replaced by the realization they were no better off than before. As soon as James ended his telephone conversation she said, “I can't make up my mind whether to be relieved or furious.”

“Well, the more clues we can come up with that point us away from Ewing, the better.”

“I know that's the way I should look at it—and I do. But then we have to lay all the blame on the kids. Especially Roxy. She's the oldest. She should have known better.”

James nodded solemnly. “I couldn't have said it better myself.”

He fell silent, deep in thought. It wouldn't hurt to let Megan assume that the worst danger had passed, though he knew better. Even without the threat Ethan Ewing posed, there was still the mountain wilderness itself, replete with snakes, biting insects, unstable weather and difficult terrain, not to mention careless hunters. He'd even heard rumors of an occasional amateur moonshiner restoring equipment left over from the 1920s and then defending it violently.

According to news reports there were also occasional drug arrests in remote areas, further tarnishing the reputation of the paradise he loved so dearly. Problems like those weren't exclusive to the Ozarks, of course. They existed everywhere, especially in denser populations. Sheer chance would keep the missing kids safer up here than they would have been, wandering around a big city.

Then again, coping in the backcountry was more a matter of constant awareness than of luck. A savvy, streetwise kid like Zac would be far less likely to get himself into trouble in his home territory. There'd be little or nothing familiar to him in the rocky wilds where he'd gone missing.

James gritted his teeth. The longer Zac and Roxy were out there alone, the greater their chances of meeting with some kind of disaster. They were far from out of the woods—no pun intended—whether Ewing was on their trail or not.

 

In minutes, James had received a return call telling him the red jacket had not been located.

Megan finished her breakfast quickly, eager to get back to Camp Refuge and search for more clues.