Not even twenty-four hours into fatherhood, and Max had lost his son.
He paced in front of the barn, wishing there was something else he could do besides walk and watch his breath puff as the afternoon waned colder. Tim and Faith had gone back out to finish the trail ride with the rest of the campers, in an effort to keep them in the dark about what was going on a little while longer. Luke called in backup from the church for a search party, while Tonya’s parents picked her up not a minute too soon. Emma had hugged the girl goodbye on the porch, then disappeared inside the dormitory. He didn’t know what she was doing. Packing? Pacing? Praying?
Would she leave?
Did he want her to?
Thankfully Brady, Caley and Ava had come over right away. After quick hugs, the girls went to the kitchen to help Mama Jeanie make some refreshments for the search crew while Brady followed his pace.
“It’s going to be okay, man. We’ll find them.” Brady rubbed his hands together before pulling his gloves from his jacket pocket.
“He’s my son.”
Brady stopped midstep, one glove dangling from his fingers. “Say what?”
“Cody’s my kid. Emma told me last night.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, not having any gloves to wear and grateful for the cold ache in his fingers that reminded him he wasn’t totally numb after all. Yet.
Brady’s hand clamped his shoulder. “We’ll figure this out. Nothing’s too big for the Lord.” He offered a wry grin. “Not even this kind of a secret.”
Max snorted. “Guess we’ll see.” If they found them, that is. Jarvis and Cody together were an unlikely pair, and Max couldn’t figure out what they were up to. Why would the two kids who hated each other the most run off together? To create trouble? To fight it out alone? That didn’t seem like Cody’s style, though the anger that had radiated off him when he left the house earlier hadn’t, either. The kid’s—his son’s—wounds ran deep.
Mostly because of him and Emma and their mistakes.
“Search party’s ready. We’re going to split up and spread out.” Luke strode to Max’s side and gestured to the group of men behind him, wearing jackets and ball caps, some with walkie-talkies clipped to their belts. Max recognized most of them from the church, though there were new faces, as well. Ten men in all.
“Thanks for coming.” They made a quick plan to determine groups and who would search where. Most would go on foot, while one set took the remaining horses from the barn, and another took his and Brady’s four-wheelers. Some would take the road, though that was the least likely way the boys would have traveled.
Luke stepped closer to Max and lowered his voice. “Have you called the police?”
“Not yet.” Max rubbed his jaw. “Trying to avoid that if possible. But if they get too far...” His property spread a good ways, but the worst part was, it joined with Brady’s. It wouldn’t take the boys any effort to shimmy under the fence and then have free rein for miles on the Double C—including bulls and wild animals. “Let’s see what we find first.” Just couldn’t wait too long, because once it got dark, the boys were in for a rough night. In some ways it’d teach them a valuable lesson, but Max hoped to avoid lessons involving coyotes—or worse. Besides, his campers’ parents trusted him to keep them safe.
The sight of Brady’s pistol tucked into the back of his jeans as he hurried off only made the reality of their situation more grim.