Gone.
Just four tiny letters.
The worst fucking word I’ve ever heard in my life.
I’ve been cursing myself for hours, on the verge of smashing my fists bloody on whatever I can find, but that won’t bring back my son.
It’s a waste of time. I can’t even work out the rage, the fear, the desperation like my body craves.
I typically leave my phone in the portable lockers when we’re pouring cement so it doesn’t end up inside a permanent brick, but right now it feels like the biggest damned mistake I’ve ever made in my life.
That mistake cost me precious minutes, and they might be the difference between finding Eli—or finding him dead.
It’s pitch-black out now, but the night’s crawling with crisscrossing beams of flashlights moving through the woods around Heart’s Edge.
Me, the town’s handful of Podunk cops, and tons of well-meaning townies all join the search.
We fan out in a search grid, sweeping the area where Eli and Tara took off for their hike. Warren leads another search party, the guilt on his face palpable, even though it’s not his fault.
He couldn’t have known they wouldn’t come back. They always did before. They’re both good kids who respect the rules and should know the trails twisting out from the inn like the backs of their own hands.
We’ve been over miles of forest already, and every time I loop back around for another sweep, taking a different weaving path through the trees, the blackness oozing from my heart gets darker and heavier and me just a little angrier, a little weaker.
He’s not here.
He’s not fucking here!
There’s a sick certainty inside me that he’s not here because he didn’t get lost—he was taken. Right along with the Fords’ niece.
That woman, that monster, out for revenge after I’d pinned her, humiliated her, threatened her, ran her off. She found out who I am, and she came for the most precious thing in the world.
Shit.
I stop just short of backhanding myself across the face.
I can’t think that without any proof.
And I can’t give up.
My legs ache. My arms and face are scratched by brush. My breaths come in rasps and my throat feels as scorched as the Sahara, but I won’t quit.
No matter how shitty I feel, Eli’s got to be feeling ten times worse—hungry, dehydrated, scared in the dark, possibly injured.
I can’t rest.
I can’t quit on my son.
Deeper I forge into the woods, almost tripping over a fallen branch—then stumbling into a tree trunk.
My vision reddens for a hot moment, but I shake my head, force myself upright, reel to the other side—and stumble into another tree.
“Fuck!” I belt out, about to punch it for good measure when that tree moves.
Damn.
Not a tree.
Holt.
He catches me with steady hands, holding me up, looking at me like I’m as much family as his brother, whose voice I can hear echoing through the night as Blake directs the whole volunteer fire crew in a sweep.
“Alaska,” Holt says gently. “You’ve got to rest, man. You’ve been at it for hours after a full shift in the summer sun.”
“The hell I do.” I throw his arm off, forcing myself upright. “I can’t leave them out here alone, Holt. You know I fucking can’t.”
“You’re no good to him or Tara like this. None of us are. We’re all so exhausted, we’re just gonna make mistakes, get someone else hurt in the dark.” It’s then I notice the dark hollows under his eyes, the bleeding and half-dried scratch along his cheek. “Flailing around blind in the dark isn’t working, man. We need to regroup, plan, wait for dawn, and try again.”
I stare at him wretchedly, despair rising up inside me.
“Holt, I—”
“Listen. You raised a smart kid.” He offers me a weary smile. “He’s not alone out there. He’s with Tara. That girl knows these woods, and she even got lost out here herself once overnight and came home just fine. They’re probably hunkered down asleep, just waiting for somebody to find ’em. Even if Eli’s not from around here, he knows the rules, right? You said you took him camping plenty?”
“Yeah. Find a safe spot, stay put, wait till morning, get your bearings.” I smile weakly. “I drilled that into his head.”
How could I not after what happened before?
Too bad this wild Montana wilderness isn’t a lot friendlier to lost kids than the Alaskan wild.
“That’s right,” Holt says. “That means you’ve got to follow your rules, too. Because you keep going like this, stumbling around out here alone, you know what happens. Next thing we know, we’re looking for you.”
God. Damn. It.
I hate that he’s right.
I hate that I’m so dead on my feet I’m not sure I can even limp back to the Charming Inn under my own power. The adrenaline surge deserts me so thoroughly my legs sag under me.
I swore this would never happen again.
So how the hell am I in this situation?
Felicity’s face flashes in my mind—and I’m too tired not to let the bitter, ugly thought intrude.
Was I wrong to give in?
Was I wrong to offer her my love?
Did I let one moment of selfish craving for a woman make me forget my senses and my son?
And now, because I fell for the wrong girl, what if Eli’s gone for good?
21
Going for the Gold (Felicity)
Damn me for starting to believe—for even half a second—that I’m not completely and utterly cursed for life.
I shouldn’t have let my guard down.
I shouldn’t have let my hopes soar.
I definitely shouldn’t have let myself believe I’m capable of anything besides hurting Alaska and his beautiful boy just by existing.
Sigh.
I pace the cabin’s floor restlessly, trying not to go to pieces. Even Shrub gave up following me an hour ago, hunkering down in his bed, worn out from my manic circles.
Hours.
I’ve been here for hours, and I’ve never felt more useless.
Of course I wanted to be out there with them, helping with the search. I even closed up The Nest early as soon as the Silverton brothers came bursting in looking for search and rescue volunteers among the people gathered there—plus a fast batch of coffee to keep everyone moving and alert.
I’d only caught a glimpse of Alaska, standing outside and conversing urgently with Sheriff Langley while he waited for Holt and Blake with a ready stillness. A tension that said the second they let him off his leash, he’d be off like a gunshot.
How could I forget when he’d glanced inside?
His dark eyes slid over me, through me, like I wasn’t even there.
And I guess Holt caught something in my eyes. Or maybe in the way we were looking at each other but our eyes weren’t connecting at all, because he gave me a worried, but gentle smile.
Hey, you’re staying with them, right? he’d said. If you want to help, someone ought to be at Charming Inn besides Ms. Wilma and Haley if the kids wander back on their own. If they end up with you, just call.
Okay. I’d nodded almost frantically, scrubbing my hands against my jeans. Let me close up the register and I’ll head right home.