“Don’t worry. They’re going to find them.” Caley wrapped her arm around Emma’s shoulders and rubbed. “They’re good men. Some are volunteer firemen—they know what they’re doing.”
Emma nodded, refusing to lift her head, afraid to look at anyone for fear of breaking down and never stopping. A drawer opened and shut, and Mama Jeanie mumbled to Caley about taking Ava to help set out the cups for the cider she’d made.
The door shut behind them, and Emma finally dared to look up at Caley. “I’m an idiot.” The whole story poured from her lips, and Caley didn’t move or interrupt except to don an oven mitt and remove the cookies.
“Sounds to me like you’re getting smarter.” She turned off the oven and grinned. “Seriously, don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re aware of what went wrong, and you want to fix it. That’s a lot farther than some people ever get.” She took the bar stool beside Emma and tossed the mitt on the counter. “Trust me. You guys are going to be fine. When Brady and I were getting together—man, it was rough. I didn’t think we’d ever find a way around our differences.”
Emma shoved away from the counter, holding up both hands in defense. “No, no, no. This is different. I’m not getting back with Max.”
Caley winked. “Yet.”
“How can you be so sure?” Her heart began to pound again, and this time it had nothing to do with the fact that her son was missing or she’d just ruined a good man’s life with her selfishness. “He’ll never forgive me. And he shouldn’t.”
“Yes, he should. And he will. I know Max.” Caley hopped up and began scooping cookies from the sheet onto a plate. “He might nurse this wound a little while, but he’ll do the right thing.”
The right thing. As in, obligation? No thanks. She’d run from that once already, which was why she didn’t tell her parents about her and Max in the first place. No shotgun weddings in her past—or her future—even if Max held the proverbial gun this time. She didn’t want obligation. She wanted love.
But she’d ruined it.
Like she’d ruined Cody.
“They found them!” Ava’s excited teenaged voice shot through the silence of the kitchen, and Caley dropped the spatula on the stove. Emma shot off her stool, hope breaking through the depression and taking over like a beacon in the night. She raced onto the porch in time to see Brady leading Cody toward Max, who eagerly ran to meet them across the yard. Joy burst free deep in her chest. She took three steps off the porch, then hesitated at the anger in Cody’s expression as he shoved Max’s arm away.
This wasn’t the prodigal son returning.
Luke began dispatching into the walkie-talkies to end the search, then stopped, his finger still on the button as static burst from the contraption. “Wait. Hold that thought. Where’s Jarvis?”
All eyes landed on Cody, who stared stubbornly at the ground and shrugged.
* * *
Max shut the door of his office and perched on the side of his desk as Cody slumped into a chair. “So what’s my punishment?” He scowled.
He was in no way equipped for this. Any other camper, yes. But his own son? Not even close. Max briefly closed his eyes, wishing there were a handbook, a class, a conference he could have attended to know what to do in this case.