just an old bone he found.”
“Rusty?” Gracie asked from where she was kneeling on the cold boards of the porch, resting her hand on the dog’s back. She had meant it as a question, but Rusty took it as approval and ran over to Renee’s car again. This time his barking sounded urgent to Gracie, too.
“What in the world?” Tyler said as he stood up and started following the sheriff toward the car.
Gracie started to stand up, but her knee was suddenly locked. She had a touch of arthritis in her joints that had started giving her trouble this past summer, but usually it was nothing like this. It was the price of getting older, she told herself as she waited for the stiffness to pass. It also came from her winters spent in a cold cell, but she didn’t like to remember that.
Unfortunately, Calen had stayed back while the other two men followed the dog.
She had bitten back the initial groan, but she must have signaled something was wrong with an indrawn breath, because he studied her.
“Can I help you?” He finally stepped close and offered Gracie a hand. She looked up. He was in the shadows, but she could see the concern on his face.
She wanted to refuse. She could take care of herself. But it seemed churlish to protest, so she nodded and accepted the calloused hand he offered.
“Thank you,” she said as she stood. The sash was loose on her robe and she knotted it securely. Even with the T-shirt and sweatpants she wore, she felt self-conscious. When she’d first stepped out on the porch, she had been warm enough, but she was shivering now.
“You don’t have any shoes on,” Calen said as though he’d suddenly noticed. “Can I go inside and get some shoes—or at least some slippers—for you?”
The thought of Calen finding her pink slippers next to her bed made her blush as much as her Cherokee coloring would allow. “I walk barefoot sometimes. It’s okay. I’m fine.”
Her great-grandfather had been a chief. She was not a delicate flower.
Calen frowned. “Your teeth are chattering—”
“Hey, come over here.” Tyler interrupted them from where he stood beside Renee’s car. The sheriff was looking in the window to the backseat.
Gracie heard a soft keening then, almost like a sound Rusty would make. But the dog was standing quietly by the car. Gracie had a bad feeling about that sound. Some animal was terrified.
Without thinking, Gracie started down the steps. And then drew in her breath sharply when her feet met the hard ground. Calen had been right. This ground would be covered with frost by morning. Winter would be here in a few days—before the church’s harvest dinner could mark the change of season. And her feet were not up to this.
She almost turned back, but she heard the keening again.
“Allow me,” Calen said as he stepped closer. He hesitated for a moment, standing next to her in the darkness. Then he reached down and scooped her up as easily as he’d lift a bale of hay.
Gracie gasped. She certainly hadn’t expected that.
Before she knew it, Calen was carrying her over to the car as though she was weightless. Her stomach felt light enough for it to be true. She wasn’t used to being this close to a man. And he smelled like soap and forest pine. In the places where her cheek touched his shoulder, she could feel his muscles moving. Her bare feet dangled as he walked. She glanced up to ask him to set her down because she felt disoriented, but she stopped when she saw the set lines of his face.
He seemed so focused on getting to the car that she figured he was carrying her as an efficiency—which made her hesitate. She didn’t want to protest as though she thought it was some grand, romantic gesture when it was only a practical matter. She glanced up at him again and noticed his lips were pressed even tighter together. No, she told herself, it definitely wasn’t a romantic gesture.
* * *
Calen barely kept from grinding his teeth. He used to dream of picking Gracie up like this and, now that he had done it, he wondered where his good sense had gone. He wasn’t gaining any points with her—that much was clear. He could feel the protest almost bursting out of her, so he walked a little faster. Besides, he didn’t have time for old high school dreams. He needed to concentrate on the present right now so he could help his daughter.
“Don’t tell me she left the money from the robberies in the car?” Calen said to no one in particular as he got closer to where the sheriff stood. Of course, having the money might be a good thing, he reminded himself. At least Renee could give it back. That might gain her some leniency with the judge when she went to trial. He had heard the news reports about the robberies up north, but it never crossed his mind that Renee might be involved.
Calen set Gracie on the trunk of the car. She didn’t even meet his eyes, and he figured that couldn’t be good. So he looked away and saw Tyler.
“It’s not the money,” Tyler said once he had Calen’s attention.
If Calen hadn’t been in such a hurry, he might have wondered why Tyler’s voice had become softer as he stood there, the door to the backseat open.
Calen moved closer. The overhead light in the car gave off a dim glow, but he had no trouble seeing the beige cloth upholstery. A brown paper bag sat in the far corner with a plastic bread wrapper sticking up. A child’s car seat sat next to a red vinyl suitcase. If he wasn’t mistaken, he smelled fried chicken, likely the kind found at truck stops. He had to lean into the car before he could see the bundle of blankets on the floorboards and, even then, he took another moment to realize what it was.
“A little girl?” Calen whispered, fearful that Renee might have kidnapped a child somewhere in her flight. He wasn’t even sure if it was a girl. All he saw was a swatch of curly blond hair peeking out from the top of the blankets.
But then the keening sounded again and it was decidedly feminine.
“Are you okay?” Calen said then, bending down so he could see further into the car. For a moment, it didn’t matter who the girl was, she was terrified and he wanted to soothe her.
The blankets dipped slightly and he saw two tearful blue eyes peeking out. Calen knew the moment she saw him, as the sound she was making turned to a shriek and the blanket covered her eyes again.
Calen backed out of the car.
“I don’t want to scare her,” he said. Gracie had slid down from the trunk and was standing beside Tyler. Both of them had frowns on their faces. The sheriff had a flashlight and was shining the beam into the front seat of the car.
“I think I have something,” the lawman said as he opened that door.
The sheriff reached inside and pulled out a white envelope, squinting at it in the soft light of the car, and then looked at Calen. “It’s got your name on it.”
The man handed the letter to him. “I hope this gives us some answers. I haven’t received any alerts about missing children, but she might have been snatched tonight and not listed as missing yet.”
“Oh, I can’t believe Renee would kidnap some poor child,” Gracie burst out with a protest and gathered the collar of her robe
