A Path Less Traveled (32 page)

His mad dash out
the garage door said otherwise. He held up a hand. “Sorry I have to leave like
this, but I’m running behind. Bo’s taking a nap.”

“Sorry I made you
late.” Trish stood on one foot, the other one still inside her car.

“Not a problem.
Listen, I need to talk to you, so I’ll be back after my meeting.”

No asking if it
was okay. He was telling, not asking. “I have something to tell you, too.”

He hopped in his
car, the engine roaring to life. The car spun out of the driveway, sending up a
cloud behind him that showered her and her car with a layer of dust. She
coughed against the fine powder and entered the house.

While Bo was
asleep, she’d clean house and pack. That way they could leave early tomorrow
morning. She’d have to deal with the house repairs and moving the furniture
another time. Trish tossed her keys on the kitchen counter where they landed
with a clank, then tiptoed past Little Bo’s room. She changed into shorts and a
t-shirt, then pulled her hair into a ponytail.

An hour and a
half later, she gazed around the-cleaned house, which now smelled like the
amaretto candle she’d lit. Tears stung. How could she leave this place and all
the fond memories it held?
Stop it, Trish. You have no choice.
A better
question was how could she stay? She’d tried everything else. God had a reason
for the way things worked out. He just had a different path than the one she’d
hoped for, and it did no good to question why.

Trish spied the
clock and frowned. How long had Bo been asleep? She’d better wake him or he
wouldn’t sleep tonight, and the last thing she needed on the trip to Austin was a cranky boy. Quietly, she opened the door and moved to the opposite side of
the bed, positioning herself next to him and peeling back the covers.

Her heart pounded
into overdrive. Instead of her son’s face, a pillow stared back at her. Frantic
with fear, she raced from the room, yelling Bo’s name as she went. Searching
the house turned up nothing. He wasn’t hiding under any beds or in the closets.
She sprinted outside, still calling him, the August heat merciless as sweat
poured from her, drenching her clothes.

Panic clamped her
throat shut. What if he’d gone to the horses? She tore out to the barn behind
the main ranch house, salty tears streaming down her face and into her mouth. A
quick scan of the horses sent fresh terror coursing through her veins. Domino
was missing!

With no one in
sight, she hurried to the ranch house and pounded on the door. No one answered.
Her mind whirled, and she brought both hands to her head.
Think, Trish,
think!

Andy.
She’d call Andy. He’d know what to do.

She ripped the
cell phone from her pocket. After several rings, he picked up. “Hey, can I call
you back later? I’m in the middle of—”

“Bo’s missing!”
She screamed the words, then gave into the sobs she’d been holding back.

“Trish, calm down
so I can understand you. What do you mean, he’s missing?”

“I thought he was
asleep. When I checked on him, I found a pillow he’d stuffed under the sheets.
I’ve looked everywhere, and Domino’s gone.” Her voice elevated in pitch and
volume. “Andy, help me. I don’t know what to do.”

“I’ll call the
police, then I’ll be right there.”

Trish hung up,
pacing back and forth down the road that led to her house until Andy arrived a
few minutes later, concern etched on his pale face. “Have you found him?”

She shook her
head, then fell to her knees and started sobbing.

Andy was at her
side in a split second, his arms around her. “C’mon, Trish, we’ll find him.”

She looked into
his face, his eyes soft and loving.

“Trust me.”

Trish nodded and
swallowed, then pushed herself to her feet. Falling to pieces wouldn’t help
find Bo. Andy stood at the same time and removed his coat and tie.

“What are you
doing?”

“I’m gonna get on
Biscuit and go looking for him.”

A horse whinnied
behind them. They turned in tandem.

The blood rushed
from her head, and the world started to turn in slow motion. Domino hobbled
toward them, still saddled and reins dragging, a bloody gash snaking down one
leg.

Chapter 29

G
od, I know I don’t
deserve Your help, but please bring back my little boy. And don’t let anything
happen to him. I couldn’t bear it.
Trish buried her face into Bo’s Sponge
Bob pillow. Oh, it smelled like her baby. She released a wail that robbed her
of breath, rocking back and forth as she clutched Bo’s pillow to her chest.
Hadn’t she endured enough?

She scrambled
from the bed and raced to the front door to peer out. Nothing. No one. Andy had
been gone almost an hour. Ernie, the town policeman, had joined the search a
few minutes ago with the promise that the county sheriff and his mounted search
and rescue team would be there shortly. What was taking them so long? Didn’t
they realize she needed to be out looking for Bo instead of waiting on them?

Oh God, let
them find him. Alive.
More grief slid down her face and deposited salty
tears on her lips.

As she turned to
move to the back door to look out for the hundredth time, her cell phone
buzzed. She flipped it open without even checking the display. Maybe Andy had
found him.

“Sis?” Steve’s
voice held a panicked edge. “We just heard an APB on the radio that Little Bo
is missing. When did it happen and why didn’t you call?”

Her gaze moved to
the mantle clock, and she brought trembling fingers to her face. How long had
it been? When had Bo slipped out of the house without Andy’s knowledge? “I—I
don’t know.” Her voice trembled. ”I’m sorry. I’m not thinking too clearly right
now.” Shock. She’d gone through it before when Doc died.

“We headed back
as soon as we heard the news. We’ll be there shortly.”

Trish clicked the
phone shut, then turned and stumbled down the hallway. A new wave of panic
flooded over her at the sight of Bo’s empty bed. She gasped for air. They just
had to find him!

Several minutes
later, a car door slammed, and she scurried to the door, guessing that the
sheriff’s mounted team had arrived. Instead, Steve and Dani hurried toward the
house, followed by Dad and Mama Beth. She swung the door open.

Her brother’s
long legs had already closed the distance between the driveway and house. “What
happened?” His voice thundered.

Dani rushed
around him and engulfed Trish in a hug, opening another floodgate of tears.
“It’s okay, we’ll find him. He’s a tough little boy.”

No. He used to be
tough. Now he was a hurting little boy who was missing. And it was her fault.
Her knees buckled beneath her, but Steve caught her and ushered her inside to
the couch.

Mama Beth bustled
up a minute later, a glass of water in her hand. “Here, drink this. It’ll make
you feel better.” A shiny new engagement ring winked from her finger.

Better? Nothing
could make her feel better except getting Bo back safely. Trish’s hands shook
as she took the glass. “Nice ring.”

Mama Beth’s face
paled. She covered the ring with the opposite hand and peered at the other
three. “Oh—I—I didn’t think . . .”

Dad eased to the
couch beside her, his eyes solemn. “We were gonna tell you, honey, but we
thought you needed more time.”

She released a
laugh that sounded anything but happy and held up one hand. “Don’t worry about
it. That’s the least of my concern right now.” Her laughter turned to sobs and
she doubled over.

Dani knelt, her
hands resting on Trish’s knees, her big blue eyes soft and kind. “Tell us what
happened, Trish, so we can know how to help.”

She relayed the
story, skipping over the fact that she’d been in Morganville for a job
interview, and ended with the news that Andy had borrowed Steve’s horse to
search for Bo.

“How long ago did
Ernie tell you the mounted search and rescue team would be here?” Steve’s voice
was more kind and controlled now.

“About a half
hour ago.”

Dad glanced at
Steve. “They have to come from all over the county, son, but they’re used to
responding quickly. They should be here soon, and then we can join the rescue
team.”

Trish stood. “I
want to come with you.”

“No.” Steve’s
expression held bullish resolve.

“He’s my son.”
Her fists clenched at her sides.

Dad pulled
himself to a standing position and laid an arm across her shoulders. “Honey,
it’s best if you stay here.”

She suddenly felt
like an eight-year-old, in trouble for doing something she wasn’t supposed to
do. Something that once again made them come to her rescue.

Dani grabbed
Trish’s hand. “Don’t you want to be here in case Bo comes back?”

Trish closed her
eyes, pulled her hand from Dani’s grasp, and raised it to rub her forehead, too
numb to think or argue. “You’re right. I guess it makes more sense to stay
here.

“I’d like to say
a prayer first, if you don’t mind.” Mama Beth stepped forward and latched on to
Trish’s arm. “Dear Lord, we pray Your protection over Little Bo. We also pray
for peace of mind for Trish and the rest of us, knowing that You are Sovereign
God, and Bo is in Your care. For those searching and about to join the search,
we pray for wisdom, guidance, and skill. We pray all this in the name of Jesus.
Amen.”

Outside, tires
crunched against gravel and sent them all rushing for the door. Dust billowed
around the caravan of pickups and inched into Trish’s nostrils and eyes.

A tall man in
jeans and boots climbed from his truck and made his way toward them.

Steve extended a
hand. “Hey, Sheriff.”

“Hi, Steve. The
little boy that’s missing is kin to you?”

“My nephew. Dad
and I would like to join the search.”

The sheriff’s
handlebar moustache reminded her of Doc. It bounced as he shook hands with Dad.
“Mr. Miller.” He turned his attention back to Steve. “I think that’s a great
idea. Y’all know the land better than the rest of us.”

All around them,
cowboys unloaded their saddled horses from trailers, and from the backseat of
an extended cab pickup, a pack of bloodhounds began to whine and bark.

The sheriff faced
her. “You the boy’s mother?”

“Yes.”

“I need to ask
you a few questions, and we’ll also need an article of clothing or a toy with
your son’s scent on it for the dogs.”

Steve’s mouth set
in a grim line. “Go ahead and ask your questions. I’ll get the toy so we can
get started.”

Trish wrapped her
arms around her waist and once again told the story, while Steve stepped past
her and entered the house. A few minutes later he returned with Bo’s stuffed
horse clutched in one hand. He turned it over to the sheriff, who promptly
headed toward the gathered men.

Dad turned and
shuffled toward the barn. “Let’s saddle up.”

“Right behind
you, Dad.” Steve turned to Trish, his cinnamon eyes full of questions.
“Planning a trip?”

Her breath
caught. He must have seen the suitcases and boxes. “I’ll tell you later. Find my
son.”

* *
* * *

Andy opened the
canteen and took a tiny sip, grateful he’d remembered to get some water before
he’d set out on his search. He swished the cool drops around his tongue before
they rolled down his parched throat. No more for now. Bo might need it.

Images of Bo’s
injured body floated across his mind and sent tears to his eyes, but he shoved
the scene away and nudged Biscuit forward, a constant prayer flowing.

God, help me
find him and keep him safe.

He used his
forearm to swipe away the sweat that rolled off his face, then peered into the
late August sun that lowered by inches rather than degrees. It would be dark
soon. How was he supposed to know where to look on a ranch of well over a
thousand acres?

Think like
a scared little boy.

The words washed
into his consciousness, and he immediately offered up thanks. He tugged
Biscuit’s reins and turned into an open meadow, allowing the horse to lead as a
childhood memory flashed to the front of his mind—the note on the kitchen table
from Mama saying she needed to go away. He’d been the first to find it and
couldn’t bear the thought of her leaving without him.

He’d cried as he
ran after her. How far had the seven-year-old version of him walked? It had
seemed like hours. Exhausted, he’d searched for a place to rest and had headed
into a wooded area to lay down in the cool shade. It was dark when he’d
awakened, and the trees had seemed like giant monsters with outstretched arms.

Biscuit whinnied
and slowed to a stop.

Andy inhaled a
deep breath in an effort to dispel the remains of the haunting memory. The
Appaloosa snorted and danced to the right, where a trail disappeared into a
grove of oaks and cedar. His pulse quickened. He had no choice. Horses had
unbelievable instincts, and Bo might be in there. Andy swallowed his fear, and
nudged the horse down the shadowy path. “Let’s go, Biscuit.”

Once under the
cover of the trees, it grew dark quickly. His heart pounded against his ribs at
a furious pace. Funny how something that happened so long ago still affected
him this way. But he had to find Bo and take him back to Trish, no matter how
scared he was.

He breathed
easier when he emerged from the trees a half hour later. Only enough light
remained to barely make out the edge of a rocky bluff. The hair on the back of
his neck stood up. Fresh horse tracks lay in the powder-dry dirt beneath him.
“Whoa, boy.” He pulled back hard on the reins and sat silently in the saddle,
his ears trained for the tiniest of sounds. A brief breeze rattled the oak
leaves behind him, then stilled. From the dark pit to his right came the faint
whimper of a child.