out of town earlier. He never came home for dinner. Hilda’s frantic.” She grabbed her jacket. “I’ll saddle up Melody and ride her cross-country.”
“Why cross-country?” Luc asked in confusion.
“Because the kids I mentioned told Henry the shortest way to your place was through Parker’s Meadow.” Holly watched Luc’s face blanch. “What?”
“I put Ornery Joe in there yesterday,” he said very softly. “That bull is mean. If Henry goes near him...” His words died away. They both knew the little boy didn’t have a chance if the bull decided to charge.
“Let’s go,” Holly said.
“It wasn’t an outright invitation to Henry,” Luc said as he followed her outside. “It was just an offhand invitation like, ‘You’ll have to come see me.’”
“He’s a little kid, Luc. He takes everything literally.” He looked so upset Holly touched his shoulder. “Pray. Hard.”
“I need to do more than that.” Luc’s face was tight with strain. He slapped his Stetson on his head. “How can I help?”
“Take my vehicle and go by road. Your truck can’t handle the deep ruts as well as mine can,” she explained, forestalling any argument. It was funny how they seemed able to anticipate each other. “Maybe Henry stuck to the road and didn’t go for the shortcut. I hope. And, Luc?”
He’d been walking toward her jeep but now he stopped and turned, a question on his face.
“If you find him, you call 911 immediately so they can call off the search teams. Not me, not Abby but 911. Okay?”
Luc nodded, a perplexed look on his face. “Of course.”
“Good. Pray hard, Luc.” Holly didn’t take the time to explain. Instead, she raced across the yard to the barn where she saddled Melody and galloped across the fields, scouring wooded nooks and crannies for a little boy in a red-hooded sweatshirt who just wanted a family.
“Henry is Luc’s dream,” Holly prayed as she rode. “Luc’s a good man. He’s trying hard to be Your child.” The reminder of Abby’s words this afternoon sent a frisson of fear up her spine.
The case worker from Calgary is suggesting that Luc coaxed Henry out to his ranch after Hilda insisted they both wait for the visit till the weekend.
“Luc wouldn’t do that. He’s a wonderful man. He’d make a great father for any child,” she whispered. “Please keep Henry safe and work this out so Luc won’t be blamed. He was only trying to help Henry.”
Holly spurred Melody to go faster. She had to find Henry; she had to make sure Luc didn’t suffer for his eagerness to have the little boy in his life. As the wind dragged through her hair, Holly took shortcuts she hadn’t used since she was a girl. Luc’s words, filled with pathos, rolled through her mind.
Sarah said she wanted a husband to be proud of.
Silly woman. As if Luc wasn’t that man! Fury spurred Holly on but she couldn’t escape the echoed intensity of his words.
Henry is the son I’ve longed for. I can’t let go of this dream, Holly. I just can’t.
In that moment Holly decided she’d do whatever it took to help Luc realize his dream. She would never have another child, but Luc was going to adopt Henry if she had anything to do with it.
He’d left his phone at Holly’s!
Heart in his throat, Luc climbed the fence and moved forward while speaking constantly to Ornery Joe. From the corner of his eye he saw Holly arrive, slide off her horse and creep from tree to bush, edging ever nearer Henry who sat crying atop a big stone, the bull directly in front of him.
“Come on, you miserable grouch. Move over here. Leave the boy alone.” Ornery Joe cast him a disparaging look, dug in one hoof and snorted before his gaze returned to rivet on Henry. For the first time since he’d become a Christian, Luc clung desperately to his faith. “God, we need Your help here.”
Every so often the wind tossed Holly’s words to him.
“You stay there, Henry. Don’t get down. Don’t even move,” she said in a calm, even voice. “Luc and I will get you out of here but you have to stay still.”
“I don’t want to stay here,” the boy sniffed. “I don’t like that old cow.”
“That’s not a cow.” Luc could hear amusement thread Holly’s tone. “That’s a bull. It’s a boy cow.”
“I still don’t like him.” At least Henry’s voice had lost some of its sheer terror.
“He doesn’t like you much, either,” Holly told him. “Or me,” she added when Ornery Joe lurched to his feet and lumbered around Henry’s stone to take after her. Fleet-footed Holly scooted across some open ground and climbed a tree. “He sure doesn’t like me at all. Get out of here, you grumpy old man,” she yelled to the bull.
Luc had found nothing in Holly’s jeep with which to entice the bull, except for a half-eaten package of chips. He rattled the foil bag now to draw Ornery Joe’s attention.
“Here, boy,” he called. “Here’s a treat for you.” He scattered the chips on the ground then looked toward Holly. “When he comes toward me, take Henry and run.”
“What about you?” she called, her gaze intent on Ornery Joe who was watching them, swinging his big head from side to side.
“I’ll be fine. You take care of Henry.” Luc crackled the bag again then held it up, hoping the breeze would carry the smell of the chips to the animal. Sure enough, Ornery Joe lifted his head, sniffed then began to walk toward him. “Go,” he said to Holly, hoping she’d hear him since he kept his voice low to avoid distracting the bull. “Go now.”
In a flash she’d jumped down from her perch, picked up Henry and raced across the pasture to the gate.
Seconds later, certain she and Henry were safe on the other side, Luc backed up as Joe advanced. When the animal lost interest in the chips and glared at him, he turned and bolted, vaulting to freedom before Ornery Joe could get up enough speed to charge.
“You okay?” Holly called.
He nodded. “Just another pair of torn pants,” he told her. “I caught them on a nail when I went over the fence.”
“I’ll mend them.” Holly dialed 911 and said she was bringing Henry to town. Then she made another call. “We found him, Abby. He’s fine. We’ll meet you at Hilda’s.” Seconds later she slid her phone in her pocket before hunkering down to stare at Henry. “I’m mad at you,” she said sternly.
Henry’s eyes widened.
“Since when do you disobey the lady who’s taking care of you? Poor Hilda’s worried sick,” she scolded. “That’s rude and also wrong when she specifically told you she’d bring
