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Down and Dirty(50)

By:Christine Bell


“We’ve got four coming in right now,” Maggie called from the front door.

Cat ran over to stand next to her, trying to make out the silhouettes in the distance. No Shane. He had only come in once since they’d arrived, and that had only been to fill a thermos full of coffee and go back out. She tamped down the worry, reminding herself for the hundredth time that he was the expert. He’d know when it was time to take a break. She went back into the kitchen to ladle up four steaming mugs of cocoa and then set them on the table.

Maggie bustled in a moment later and grabbed a log from the woodpile near the door. “I’m going to build up the fire a bit.”

Cat nodded. “Good idea.” She watched Maggie struggle with the log through the doorway to the living room, but knew better than to offer to help. Somehow, right from the get-go, Shane had known that Maggie needed a job to do, and had Cat give her one that she was taking very seriously. In the midst of this horrifying, chaotic event in her life, he’d given her a purpose, and Cat was fairly certain that purpose was the only thing holding the older woman together right now.

She glanced at the clock again and bit her lip. Maggie wasn’t the only one having a hard time keeping it together. In the hours since Gracie’s disappearance, Cat had met her parents, seen the wear on their faces, watched friends and family file in and out, getting more despondent with every passing hour. She’d listened to Maggie tell story after story about her “little love bug.” The first time Gracie had said “grandma,” which came out more like “gamma” and had stuck to this day. The way she loved to play tea party with her dolls, only instead of tea, they had soup because tea was yucky.

As the day progressed and the stories got too hard to tell, Maggie would disappear for a while and Cat would pace around the small cottage, trying not to look at the family photos plastering the walls, slowly driving her insane. Gracie as a chubby toddler in her swimmies on the pier. Gracie on Christmas morning surrounded by gifts, doe-like brown eyes full of wonder. Gracie in her little blue coat by the lake feeding the ducks.

Cat squeezed the bridge of her nose and swallowed hard.

“You okay?”

She dashed the tears from her eyes and turned to find Rafe standing by the table cupping a mug of cocoa in a gloved hand. She hadn’t even heard him come in.

“Yeah, I’m good. Fine. You?”

He nodded grimly. “Yeah. Just fine.”

Neither of them was fine. She needed only to look at the tightness around his mouth and feel the mounting sense of hopelessness hanging between them, unspoken, to know it.

She cleared her throat to dislodge the lump that had wedged itself there. “It’s getting really cold out there. Maybe I should spell one of the search party members who’ve been out all day and someone can come in here? The parents haven’t stopped since this morning.” She wrapped her arms around her shoulders to chase away the shiver that went through her every time she thought of little Gracie out there in the cold for more than five hours.

Rafe shrugged and looked away. “The Abbotts won’t come in until Gracie’s been found. The rest of the crew is dressed for the weather, and it’s stopped snowing, so overall, not too bad as far as cold goes. Plus, you’re doing a great job and I think it’s better for Maggie if you’re here now that you have a rapport.”

“Whatever you think is best.” She wasn’t about to argue with him. She only wanted to help. Still, something in his face—

Frantic shouts from outside and Rafe’s suddenly beeping radio urged them to rush to the front door. Cat’s heart pounded in her chest when they stepped onto the porch and scanned the yard. Three adult silhouettes ran through the snowy woods in the distance, the largest cradling a small, motionless figure.

“Oh sweet Jesus.” Maggie stood in the doorway, face drained of color. “Please, God, please no.”

The shouts grew louder and moving shapes became clearer. Shane. It was Shane, and he had Gracie in his arms wrapped in a blanket, one red boot sticking out of the bottom.

One of the three, a female volunteer, broke away, sprinting toward the house. Tears streamed unchecked down her face. “She’s alive, she’s going to be okay!”

Maggie let out a sob and rushed down the stairs. Rafe followed after her, taking her arm to help her traverse the snowy ground. Cat looked on from the porch, gripping the railing like a lifeline, as Shane strode up to the child’s grandmother and lifted the blanket away from Gracie’s face.

“She’s exhausted. Still dehydrated and won’t drink much. She’s got a moderate case of hypothermia, but I saw no signs of frostbite. An ambulance will be here in five minutes or less to take her to the hospital and have her checked out.”