Leave It to Chance (27 page)

Elise sounded puzzled. “Did he go with a warranty?”

“No! But some other horses were picking on him and he was getting depressed.”

Elise snickered. “Couldn’t they put some Prozac in his grain?”

“Funny. So Braden saw Chance in Ross’s field and is devastated that we’re not keeping him. But does he cry? No, he lashes out at everyone.”

“Are you sure you’re supposed to sell him? Maybe God brought—”

“Elise.” She nibbled her fingernail. But the thought had been crossing her mind too. She dropped her hand and sighed. “And I guess Michael threatened him with military school tonight if he doesn’t get his act together.”

“Seriously?”

“Well, I can understand Michael’s reaction. Braden’s been a miserable pain in the rear. And some of his attitude bleeds off on Emory. It’s been a lot of fun around here.” And the thought pursued—maybe if she hadn’t sold Chance….

“Right now, military school sounds pretty good. We’d at least get some peace and quiet. Did you know that you can make out every word of a hard rock song through the ceiling?”

“Oh, Sierra.”

“Maybe it’d help him learn to respect his parents a little more. The toilets in his dorm would be sparkling, I’m sure.”

A movement caught her eye.

She raised up and there stood Braden in her doorway, his face white except for his brown eyes wide with shock and fear … and hatred.

“Elise, I need to go.” Sierra dropped the phone on the bed.

Chapter 26

Braden sprinted through the living room. The front door ricocheted into the wall with a bang. The soles of his tennis shoes flashed as he darted down the front steps.

“Braden!”

He was a blur in the dusky evening, arms churning as he ran from Sierra across the road and into the walnut orchard.

Sierra followed into the trees, but she couldn’t see him. Damp brown leaves covered the ground. Symmetrical gray trunks stood in straight lines for a great distance in every direction. She paused next to a tree, her hand pressed to the bark and listened. But the silence was still, watchful.

“Braden!” She ran farther in, darting around the trees, thankful the leaves had fallen to let in the meager light.
Please come out, baby. I’m so sorry.

She jogged through the grove until a hurried look at her watch showed that a half hour had gone by. Maybe he’d circled back to the house.

Sierra ran out of the trees and back across the road. The front door was still open, and her heart sank. But she still checked every room of the house.

Her mom raised up when Sierra darted into her bedroom, checked the closet, and glanced under bed. “What’s the matter, honey?”

“I can’t find Braden.”

“You think he’s under the bed?”

“I need to make sure before I call the police.”

“Oh, dear. I didn’t realize he was that upset.”

Sierra, still kneeling on the floor, clutched the bed skirt in her fists. “He thinks his dad and I are going to send him to military school.” Her throat tightened and her nose burned. “I think he ran away.”

Her mom threw the covers back and put her legs over the side. “He’ll be home shortly. Once he gets hungry he’ll show up.”

Sierra nodded, grasping for the hope in her mom’s words, but her gut told her Braden didn’t want to come back.

Rushing back to the living room she grabbed her cell and dialed the number, watching out the window for a glimpse of Braden’s blue sweatshirt along the edge of the trees.

Nothing but empty road and silent trees stared back at her.

“Hey, hon.”

“Elise, I can’t find Braden. I think he ran away. Please pray.”

“I will, hon. I’ll be praying for you, too.”

Sierra’s breath caught and she whispered the words. “Thank you. I need to call Michael.”

Sierra pressed in the number, and he picked up on the second ring.

“Michael, it’s Sierra. Braden ran away about forty-five minutes ago.”

“Why? What happened?” Panic edged the blame in his voice.

She sank to the edge of the couch, her gaze still intently focused on the walnut orchard. “Emory told me what you said about sending Braden to military school. Then he heard me on the phone saying I thought it would be good for him.”

“I was
threatening
him, Sierra. I wouldn’t have done it.”

“I know, and I was being sarcastic. But
he
doesn’t know that.”

Michael sighed, and she could imagine his knuckles rubbing along his jaw the way they did when he was worried. “What is going on with him?”

“His world is crashing in on him. You’re having a new baby and I sold his horse.”

“What does my baby have to do with this?”

“I think he feels that he’s lost his place in your world. Plans you’ve made with him haven’t worked out and he feels threatened by everyone’s excitement over Gina’s pregnancy. I don’t think he feels needed by you anymore.” Sierra tightened her grip on the phone. “And he gets pulled between us when I want him to wear the eye patch and you tell him not to. It’s not been easy for him.” Her nails dug into her palm. “He finally seemed to be finding himself again before I sold Chance.”

“Have you called the police?”

“No. I wanted to call you first.”

“Call them right now. I’ll start driving around. Call me if he comes back.”

“I will.” But would he come back?

The knock on the door was firm. Sierra opened it to two police officers.

“Mom, there’s a police car in the drive—” Emory stopped on the bottom step, her eyes huge.

“Honey, go put a movie on for you and Trevor. I’ll talk to you in a few minutes.”

Her daughter gave a ghost of a nod, her eyes never leaving the uniforms as she slowly backed out of sight.

The officers stepped into the living room, the crispness of the evening air following them in. The men sat on the edge of the couch, and Sierra took the recliner with her mom perched on its wide arm. The bald officer with the penetrating eyes held his pen still. “Why do you think he ran away?”

Sierra leaned forward. “He was angry. Hurt. He overheard me tell a friend I might send him to military school.”

The officer gave her an assessing look before jotting on his notepad. “Ma’am, do you think he’d harm himself?”

“No. No, I don’t think so. There have been some hard adjustments for him. I just sold his horse and his stepmother is pregnant.”
Why don’t they grab his picture and start searching?

The blond officer interjected. “Has he run away before?”

“No.”

“Could we get your ex-husband’s information? We’d like to talk with him also.”

Abbey patted her back. “I’ll get the address book, honey.” She hurried toward the kitchen.

“Ma’am, do you mind if we search your house and vehicles? Sometimes children will hide close by.” The men offered comfort with their authoritative presence, but she also felt the weight of their scrutiny.

“I already looked, but that’s fine if you need to. Please hurry.” She glanced out the front window, where dusk was swiftly passing to inky night.

Ten minutes later the door closed behind the men. Her mom covered her mouth with a hand, her eyes sparkling with tears and she whispered, “He’ll be fine, honey. I’ll go check on the kids.”

All security and hope had walked out the door with the officers. Where was her son?
Then it dawned on her.
Chance!

She ran to the kitchen for her cell phone and dialed Ross’s number.

“Hello?”

“Are you home? Could you check the pasture for Chance?”

“Actually, I’m just about to pass your house.”

“Braden ran away. I think he may have gone to Chance.”

Within minutes, she opened the door and Ross enveloped her in his arms. The comfort she expected didn’t come. There was a bleeding hole in her heart that couldn’t be filled until she found her son.

Sierra swallowed. “I’m going to run up to your house and see if Chance is there.”

He nodded. “I’ll go through the orchard. He might have gotten turned around.”

“Thanks.” She brushed her sleeve against her nose and sniffed.

“I’ll get you an extra flashlight from my truck.” He wiped a tear from her cheek. “Call me when you get there.”

Sierra drove the highway toward Ross’s.
Please be there. Please be there.
Her eyes tried to penetrate the blackness of the fields and ditches, desperate to land on a figure in a blue sweatshirt and jeans. Could he have walked this far? Had someone grabbed him? Was he to Portland by now, trapped and scared in the passenger seat of a stranger’s car?

Her breath came in gasps and she blinked back the tears that distorted her vision.

She turned up Ross’s drive and sped toward the edge of the pasture, the headlights aimed straight out toward empty field. She raced to the fence and climbed it next to a wooden post, the wire bending under her weight. She landed with a thud in the grass and ran through the field shouting, “Braden! Braden! Braden!”

After ten minutes she stumbled, panting hard. Ross’s house was a dim light far across the field. It started to rain. Not a solid downpour that drenched icy against the skin but a steady misting, like raining fog that clung, feeling light at first but steadily weighing down her clothes, until her sweater sagged against her body.

Sierra fell against a tree, crying. Crying for herself, crying for Braden. She straightened, rain running down her hair and into her eyes. Sierra fisted her hands tight at her sides and yelled at the dark sky. “Where are You, God?”

Had God turned His back on her as a twelve-year-old girl, when her dad died? Would a loving God abandon His child? Would He abandon Braden? Ragged breaths clawed at her chest. She needed to find out or she wasn’t going to make it. “Please, take me to Braden.”

She ran back through the wet field, climbed the gate to the driveway, and headed directly for the barn. She flipped on the light and the dim yellow bulbs lit the way to the tack room. She brushed her hand over the saddle, and her eyes went immediately to the empty hooks on the wall.

Sierra ran back outside and slipped into the van. She grabbed the phone and dialed Ross’s number, steam rising from her dampness in the warmth of the car. Phone to her ear, she started the car and backed it around.

He answered immediately. “Is he there?”

“No, but Chance is gone and so is his bridle.”

“Okay, then we need to scour the fields around my place.”

“I’m going left out of your driveway.”

“Good. I’ll head—”

“Ross?” Sierra pressed the phone tighter to her ear. “Ross?” She pressed her thumb to redial, but nothing happened. A quick glance showed that the screen was black. She tossed it on the seat next to her.
I need help, Lord. Please help me find him.

She slowly followed the winding road toward the country, the flashlight’s beam aimed out the driver’s window reflecting off the passing bushes and trees.

Turn.

Sierra looked left and saw a slight opening ahead in the brush. Not really wide enough for a vehicle. She shone the light on the pasture to the right of the car.

Turn!

The urgency caught her and she pulled the wheel left, just making the opening between the trees. Branches screeched against the side of the van, and her headlights bounced crazy patterns against the brush. What was she doing? The road was barely a dirt path. Braden would never have ventured into such dense growth.

Why had she turned? The word hadn’t been audible, but it had been unmistakable.
God?

She saw the headlights reflect off the massive puddle too late. Sierra slammed the brake, but the van sprayed water and the front end pitched deep to the right. She put the vehicle in reverse, but the tires whirred against the mud. She jammed the gearshift into
park,
the engine still running.

She flipped on the overhead light grabbed her cell phone and pressed the button to turn it on, her thumbnail turning white.
Please, God. Please. Braden needs me.

The screen remained black. Her heart was going to explode. Terror pressed against her making it difficult to breathe. Sierra wailed. “God, help me! Please, help me.” Sobbing, she pounded the steering wheel with her fists.

Finally, she shut the car off, grabbed the flashlight and opened the driver’s door. How long would it take to jog back to Sid’s and borrow his car? She stepped into water that came midway up her calf and slogged to the edge of the trail.

Sierra took a couple of stumbling steps toward the highway and stopped. It was as if she could hear an urgent whisper just beyond her ears. A sense that she needed to turn toward the other end of the lane where the night grew a shade lighter.

She took another step toward the highway, but the urgency grew stronger.

The slow building of hope in her heart urged her to turn around. A long dormant flame had whispered to life.
Was God leading her?

She barely dared to breathe as she loped, the unsteady bounce of the flashlight warning her of rocks and branches. She reached the end of the path and paused, then clicked the light off with her finger.

Her eyes slowly adjusted to the small meadow, shadowed by the hazy moon far beyond the clouds and drizzle. Sierra scanned the far reaches of the field, her eyes straining to see into the darkness.

Her breath caught.

They stood motionless under a bare oak tree, vaguely outlined against the sky. Braden sat hunched over Chance’s neck, defeat and exhaustion in the slump of his shoulders.

I am Father to the fatherless.

The words plunged deep within her heart and anchored. God was her Father. She’d found Him, though He’d never left her.

Sierra started across the field. Relief flowed through every pore, calm where there’d been fear. She gazed at Chance, his head hanging. That beautiful horse and her son were safe.

Sierra stopped next to the pair and touched her son’s leg. “Braden, honey?”

Braden startled, then slid off the horse. She wrapped her arms around him, and he grabbed her sweater and burrowed his face in her chest as he sobbed.

She realized fear was not a fence to guard her children; it had become a prison they’d fight to be free from. The crying stopped, but still he sagged into her arms. She rocked him slowly. “I love you, Braden.”

His voice was muffled. “I love you, too.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head.

She couldn’t stop the tears that kept streaming down her cheeks. She stroked his hair. “Then how about I talk. Okay?”

He nodded his face against her sweater.

“I’m sorry your dad and I divorced. I know it’s been hard on you guys. Sometimes grown-ups make decisions that are difficult to understand.”

He sniffled.

“Your dad isn’t trying to hurt you by having a baby with Gina. He loves you and Emory and Trevor very much. A new baby doesn’t squeeze that love out. Hearts have plenty of room to grow and love more people.”

Braden leaned back to look at her. “But what if it’s a boy?”

She smiled through the tears. “Then he’ll have a wonderful big brother to teach him all sorts of cool things.”

“Dad’s going to send me to military school.”

She cupped his cold cheeks. “Braden, your father loves you. He sees how angry you are, and he doesn’t know how to talk to you about it, so he tried to scare you into obeying. He didn’t mean it.”

Sierra watched him process that information.

He nodded once, shivering. “’kay. But you said you were going to send me there too.”

She breathed in the frigid air. “I was frustrated and let words come out of my mouth that shouldn’t have. I’ll never send you to military school.” She bent so their faces were inches a part. “Sweetheart, I love you. But I’m not a perfect mom.” She touched his nose. “Just like you’re not a perfect boy. But I love you that way.”