Santa in a Stetson (2 page)

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Authors: Rebecca Winters

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On the way home he turned to Matt. “This morning on the bus, did your sister say anything about a quarrel with her friends?”

“No.” He darted him a curious glance. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I thought all Allie's friends were going to be over at Jen's tonight.”

Matt shrugged. “I don't know, but she was kind of quiet on the bus.”

Her cold could account for that, but Colt still wasn't reassured. An uneasiness had crept over him he couldn't
explain, but she'd hate it if he phoned her at Jen's. No teenager liked to be checked up on at a party.

He rubbed his jaw where he could feel the beginnings of a beard. “I guess we'll find out tomorrow after she gets home.”

“Dad?”

Did Matt know something after all? “Yes?”

“I think something's wrong with Blackie's hind leg.”

“He needs reshoeing,” Colt murmured, his mind still on his daughter. “In the morning we'll get it taken care of before we load up more hay to take to the west pasture.” He drove up to the side of the ranch house and turned off the motor.

“After that, is it okay if I go skiing with Rich? We'll buy a half-day pass.”

“Sounds fun.”

They both got out and walked around to the back. “You want to come with us?”

“I'd like to, but Noreen says the kitchen disposal is having problems. Since Ed's arm is still in a cast, I promised I'd take a look at it. If it needs to be replaced, that could take some time.” For a variety of reasons, Colt wanted to be on hand when Allie got dropped off. “Let's go skiing next Saturday. Maybe Rich's dad will want to come, too.”

“I'll ask him.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Colt followed him to the back porch. They stomped the snow off their cowboy boots before entering the house. Ten minutes later they both said good-night.

Colt checked with Noreen, who lived in the older
house on the property with her husband, Ed, Colt's ranch manager. Noreen hadn't heard from Allie. Not that he expected her to call, but when he entered his study, he knew he wouldn't sleep until he'd talked to his daughter.

Without hesitation, he called her cell phone. Her voice mail came on. He asked her to call him back when she could, then rang off.

Frustrated when another twenty minutes passed with no response, he looked up the Wagners' number in the phone directory. Even though it was ten-thirty, he called them, but their voice mail came on, too. He left the message that he'd like Allie to call her father, then he hung up.

Maybe the Wagners had taken the girls to a movie or ice skating. The thought that they were all out together should have relieved him. Colt was probably obsessing for nothing, and yet…

His thoughts flew back ten years to the time when he'd gotten a strange foreboding about his grandmother. It had been early morning. Though he'd just arrived in the upper pasture with some of the hands, he turned right around and galloped home to discover his grandfather weeping over her body. “Her heart stopped beating a half hour ago, Colton. She's gone.”

Unnerved by the memory, he decided he couldn't sit around waiting for the phone to ring. He hurried down the hall and took the stairs two at a time to Matt's room. His son was listening to his iPod.

When he saw him, he sat up in bed with a jerk. “Dad?”

“Get dressed and come with me to Jen's house.”

“What's wrong?”

“Maybe nothing. I just need to make sure Allie's all right.”

“Okay.” He slid out of bed to put on his clothes.

“I'll meet you at the truck.”

 

O
N HER WAY INTO THE
E.R., Kathryn glanced around the lounge filled with friends and relatives of the patients. The place had never looked busier. She approached the desk and spotted Nancy, who was simultaneously talking on the phone while she entered information on the computer. The two women had become friends while Kathryn was getting her RN degree.

As soon as she saw Kathryn, she flashed a smile of relief and hung up. “Thanks for coming so fast. Our uncommunicative runaway is down the hall in the isolation area, Room Six. Her tests just came back. She's got the H1N1 virus.”

“Is she coherent?”

“Oh, yes, but she won't tell us how long she's had symptoms. I think she's been sick for a while. When they wheeled her in, she was very upset about being brought to the hospital. She told us to let her go. If she's refusing to talk, it's because she's terrified about something. When the ambulance picked her up, she had no ID on her.”

“Where was she found?”

“Down near the Rio Grande Café. A pedestrian saw her collapse and called 911.”

One of the homeless shelters was near there. The airport, the Greyhound bus depot and the Amtrak station
were all close by, and it seemed possible she'd come in from out of town.

“Did she speak with an accent? You know—Alabama, Boston, Texas, New
Joysey?

Nancy laughed at her imitation and thought for a minute. “Nothing stood out. I'd say she's from somewhere in the western states, but no central Utah drawl if you know what I mean.” They both smiled.

Good. That narrowed the field a little. “You want me to tell her about her condition?”

“Yes. I'm hoping that when you do, she'll break down and open up to you. See what you can get out of her, will you?”

“Sure.”

Kathryn went around to a back room where she shed her parka. After removing the brochure from her purse, she stowed everything in a locker, then washed her hands. Donning a surgical mask and lab coat, she then slipped a small notepad and pen in her pocket along with the brochure and found her way down several halls to Room Six.

They'd hooked up an IV to the pretty brunette lying there in a hospital gown with her eyes closed. Before she did anything else, Kathryn opened the girl's locker and took her bag of clothes out in the hall to examine.

She'd been wearing a North Face parka, navy jeans, a red, long-sleeved pullover sweater, Nike Air Morgans with hook-and-ladder fasteners, and tube socks. Everything higher end and clean. No smell of smoke. All items could have been purchased in a major department store anywhere across the nation.

After Kathryn returned the bag back to the locker,
she walked over to the computer and brought up the police report first.

Jane Doe. Age 14–16. Caucasian. Picked up at 4:10 p.m., Friday, Nov 19. A pedestrian, Ronald Ewing, 50, Grantsville, Utah, saw her slump onto the sidewalk at 300 south, fifth west, Salt Lake, and called emergency on his cell phone. Approx height 5'5”, weight 115 pounds, brown hair, brown eyes, teeth in excellent condition. No evidence of alcohol. No needle marks. No sign of drugs hidden on her body or in her clothes. No purse or wallet. No money. No injury marks, no sign of assault, rape or foul play.

There were a lot more things Kathryn could add simply by looking at her. Aside from the fact that she had the flu, she was the picture of health and excellent hygiene. Her nails were well cared for, her shoulder-length hair had a gloss to it.

The hospital stats indicated a fever of 101.4 when she was brought in. No vomiting or diarrhea. They were hydrating her and giving her medicine to bring down her temperature. Since the last check of vital signs, there'd been a drop of one degree. That was good news.

She was someone's darling.

Kathryn snagged a stool and sat down at the side of the hospital bed. “Hi, Anna. I'm Katy.”

The girl opened her eyes. They were velvety brown. Lovely eyes. Anxious.

“Don't let the mask scare you. It's a protective measure because you're fighting the H1N1 virus, but judging
by the progress you're already making, it's not such a serious case. Unless I made a lucky guess, I know your name isn't Anna. I gave you
my
old name. The one I was given after I was kidnapped. It's as good as any.”

Anna blinked. If Kathryn didn't miss her guess, she'd gained the girl's attention.

“I brought a brochure with me. My family had it printed when I was taken from them.” She pulled it out of her purse. “Let me show you the picture of me at the top.” Kathryn held it up so she could see it. With her other hand, she pulled down the mask so the girl could see they were one in the same person. Then she put it back in place.

“It was taken four years ago. You'll notice what it says beneath the picture. ‘Kathryn McFarland, lost for twenty-six years, has been FOUND!' You're probably feeling too tired to read it, Anna, so I'll read it to you.” Kathryn continued to read.

May 3 marks the twenty-sixth anniversary of the abduction of our fourth child, Kathryn McFarland, from the McFarland home in Salt Lake City, Utah. Born April 2, she was only a month old at the time she was taken.

Soon after the kidnapping and community search, the Kathryn McFarland Foundation was founded and now honors Kathryn's memory by finding missing children, and preventing them from going missing in the first place.

When Kathryn was kidnapped, our community and many others joined together to help us find her because there was an immediate recognition
that she was everyone's child and that we are all in this together.

Child abductions across our nation since its beginning have highlighted the need for legislation to enhance our ability to protect our children from predators of all types. When a child is kidnapped, time is of the essence.

All too often it is only a matter of hours before a kidnapper commits an act of violence against the child. That is why we're pleased that the U.S. Senate has acted to pass legislation creating a national AMBER Alert system, which galvanizes entire communities to assist law enforcement in the timely search and safe return of child victims.

Since its inception, the foundation has assisted approximately seventeen thousand families and law enforcement agencies in their searches. We have seen over eight-five percent of those children returned home safely. This is what continues to give us hope.

Kathryn put the brochure down on the bedside table. “Someone out there—
somewhere
—is dying inside because you're missing, Anna. I don't know how long you've been missing, or why. I don't know if you were kidnapped and let go, or if you left home of your own free will. “What I
do
know is that a beautiful young woman like you is very lucky not to have been exposed to serious danger. I also know that anyone who loves you is in agony right now, fearing the worst.”

The girl's eyelids fluttered closed, but they couldn't hold back the trickle of tears.

“My family went through so much agony, they would have died if they hadn't decided to do something positive with their pain. Did you hear those statistics? Seventeen thousand families assisted. That figure has changed since four years ago. It's now twenty-three thousand, with an eighty-five percent rate of success.

“I have parents, two brothers and a sister who've dedicated their lives to helping children unite with their loved ones. Now that I've been found, I've devoted my life to helping someone like you get the help you need.

“Consider me a friend who's going to make certain you get well and are safe. My brother runs Renaissance House, a shelter for homeless women to assist them in getting reestablished. It's only a mile from here. After you're released from the hospital, I'll take you there. You'll like it. The big, beautiful mansion was my home before I was kidnapped. After that, my family moved. They couldn't bear the pain of living in a place where I had been stolen right out of the nursery during the night. Since that time, my brother turned it into a halfway house. He did it because he hoped that one day
I
might walk in.”

Suddenly the girl broke down crying. Kathryn stood up to lean over her and smooth the hair from her temples. “I didn't tell you all this to make you cry. I just wanted you to know that you're not alone. Sleep now, Anna. I'll stay right here and take care of you. I'm a nurse who did my training in this hospital. You're among friends here.”

After a long silence, “My name's Allie.”

Joy.

“I like that name much better.” She handed her some tissues. “Go ahead and blow your nose, Allie. You must have been congested for a few days now.”

The teen nodded and blew hard. Kathryn handed her a receptacle. “I'm going to get you a cold drink. Fruit punch, Sprite, root beer, Coke, you name it.”

“Fruit punch, please.”

She had manners, too. “Coming right up.”

Kathryn hurried down the hall to the desk. She pulled her mask down again. “Her name's Allie. She wants some fruit punch.”

A beaming Nancy lifted her head. “I knew it! You have the magic touch. Be back in a tick.”

In another minute, she returned with two cans. Kathryn thanked her and joined Allie, who'd reached for the brochure on the side table and was reading it.

“I'll raise your head so you can drink without choking. Say when.”

Before long Allie had drained her drink. Kathryn took the empty can from her. “Better?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Shall I lower your head now?”

“Not yet. Where did that kidnapper take you?”

Kathryn sat down on the stool once more. “New York, then Wisconsin.”

Allie's red-rimmed eyes studied her in fascination. “How did you find your parents?”

“I didn't. My sister and the man she's married to now found
me.
When my family came into my hospital room
to see me for the first time, we all looked so much alike there was no question I belonged to them.”

She blew her nose again. “You were in a hospital, too?”

“Yes. I'd been in a car accident and had broken my leg. Because of my cast, everyone had to be very careful when they hugged me, especially my dad. To this day, I don't know which one of us squeezed harder.”

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