Page 17

A little over an hour later, they had a group of Hudsons and Daniels huddled together in the morning sun at the center of the forest preserve. Zeke, Carlyle, Grant, Hawk, Anna and Palmer had all come out. Louisa would join them later, after she was done working at her parents’ orchard, if it took that long.

Because this was what family did. Jack had spent a lot of years considering himself the solitary, lone leader. The person who had to keep it all together without leaning too hard on anyone else for help. He’d spent a lot of time and energy trying to protect his siblings from pain, danger, risk.

Of course, he’d always had help, particularly from Mary and Grant in those early years, but he’d also made sure most of the responsibility lay on his shoulders. Or tried to.

If there was anything the past few years had taught him, it was that he didn’t need to do that anymore. It had been hard to let go of all the responsibility he felt had defined him, but he thought he was finally really getting there. His siblings’ lives the past few years certainly hadn’t given him much choice.

Still, he hated asking for help. But for Chloe? He’d ask anyone. Because she was part of it too. She’d given him some hope for a future, even if he worried how well he’d be able to give her what she deserved.

But for right now, they had to find her brother.

He explained the entire situation to everyone who’d come, and Carlyle and Anna flanked Chloe like two sentries ready and willing to fight for her.

Because she wasn’t alone, and she wasn’t going to be. None of them would let her be. He hoped she was beginning to understand she didn’t have to take it all on her shoulders herself too.

Grant had had the presence of mind to bring a paper map they could spread out and all look at to determine how they’d approach the search.

“Chloe and I will take the campground,” Jack said, pointing to it on the map. He met Chloe’s gaze because she’d opened her mouth to argue, but one sharp look from him and she closed it. He wasn’t going to repeat himself about being by her side. It was a done deal.

“We’ll approach from the south end. Zeke and Carlyle, I’d like you guys to come at it from the north.” Because Zeke and Carlyle hadn’t come into the Hudson orbit until long after their parents were gone, so they shouldn’t have any emotional connection to the campsite. He’d send his siblings off into other corners and hope that it wasn’t a mistake.

“Can I beat him up if I find him first?” Carlyle asked darkly, holding a grudge against Ry for sneaking away on her watch.

“With my permission,” Chloe returned vehemently.

Jack could see she was trying to hold on to a kind of tough outer demeanor, and maybe it would have been better for Chloe if he’d paired her up with Carlyle. Maybe it was selfish to want to keep her in his sight, by his side.

Well, so be it.

As for his siblings, he paired them up and gave them their assignments. Anna argued with him about a few minor details, because of course she did, but when Chloe took his side, Anna backed off.

“Most of us won’t have cell service as we move deeper into the preserve, but everybody has a flare, right?” Everyone nodded. Palmer had brought packs that would keep them going for a while, provided everyone with water and a weapon as well as a flare. They could feasibly spend the rest of daylight hours out here searching.

Jack hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

“No matter what, everyone meets back here at four. No exceptions.”

Everyone murmured their assent, then began to pair off into vehicles that would lead them to their different corners. They’d go to their assigned areas, canvass on foot for a few hours, then meet back here in the middle of the preserve.

Hopefully, with a safe-and-sound Ry Brink in tow.

Jack climbed into the driver’s seat of his truck, waited for Chloe to get into the passenger side. They said nothing. Jack just drove through the twists and turns of paved roads, then gravel ones, until they approached the campground.

Tension seeped into him. If those skeletal remains on the Brink Ranch were his parents, there was nothing about this place that should make him tense, that should make dread and grief settle deep in his gut. Because if they’d been buried elsewhere, there was likely no remnants of what had happened to them here.

And yet no matter what he thought , what he knew, the feelings were twisting around inside him as they got out of the truck at the entrance to the campground. He shouldered the pack Palmer had brought for him and tried to shake away his unease as he scanned the area.

On this side of the preserve, spruce trees towered and reached for a bright blue sky. It dappled the campground in dark shadows in direct contrast to the sunny day. At the front of the truck, Chloe reached out and took his hand.

None of his inner scolding had settled the anxiety he felt, but her hand in his did. It didn’t take it all away, but it soothed some of those jagged feelings. They were in this together, whatever the answers might be.

They moved forward in unison, not quite sure what they were looking for. Signs of life. Signs of Ry. Signs .

The campground had some tents and some campers. Definitely not as deserted as other areas of the park. So he and Chloe walked down the little campground road, eyeing each campsite for anything that might stand out.

There was an older couple huddled around a campfire, putting together some kind of lunch. Jack didn’t realize he’d stopped walking until Chloe gently tugged at his hand. He looked away from the couple and toward the road. He couldn’t bear to look at Chloe and see sympathy on her face.

It didn’t do him any good to think that his parents might be doing just that if they’d lived. They hadn’t, and he had to focus on the living. But Chloe let go of his hand, tucked her arm around his waist so they were walking hip to hip.

He managed a slow, big breath that loosened the tightness in his chest. Focus on the living, on the future. On the task at hand. Which all centered on her.

They reached the end of the campsite road. Carlyle and Zeke would be catching up to them soon unless something had happened. Both Jack and Chloe looked around. Then Chloe pointed at a little outhouse. “There’s a trail there. Are there more campsites that way?”

“Usually not when the campgrounds have empty sites closer to the facilities, but let’s go check.”

They moved past the outhouse, onto a trail that led to overflow campsites. Jack didn’t see any tents set up along the trail, but as he and Chloe began to move, he heard someone. Just the whisper of a word, like a curse under someone’s breath. And then the heavy, pounding footsteps of someone running.

Away.

Jack swore himself, turning to see someone’s quickly retreating form.

Not just someone . Ry.

So Jack took off after him.

C HLOE WANTED TO cry with relief, and at the very same time, she wanted to beat her brother up. Tears threatened, but luckily, running as hard as she could through the forest helped keep them from leaking out.

If Ry was running, it was bad in that he was probably mixed up in a hell of a lot of trouble. Because he had to have seen it was them, so he wasn’t in the kind of trouble he wanted help with.

But he was running . So he was alive and whole, and no matter how angry she was at him, relief lightened all her harsher emotions.

She was going to figuratively kill the little bastard. Right after she hugged him so tight, she was sure he was okay.

Jack had longer legs and could move faster for short-term distances, but Chloe had a better stride for longer distances and, because of her smaller size, was able to dodge trees with more agility, so after a bit of running, she bypassed Jack and was quickly gaining on her brother.

“Rylan Jonas Brink, stop running right now!”

He didn’t listen, though he looked back over his shoulder. Tactical mistake, because after a couple more steps, he tripped and then went sprawling. Giving Chloe just enough time to catch up to him and pounce.

He struggled under her tackle, trying to buck her off. “I didn’t do anything!”

She got her knee in his back, managed to wrench one arm behind him even as her breath sawed in and out. “Then why are you running?” She resisted punching him though she itched to, even as she was desperate to hug him and hold him tight. Alive, alive .

And in so much damn trouble.

“Let me,” Jack said beside her. She realized he was holding handcuffs, and she sighed. She adjusted her hold so Jack could do the honors.

Though she wouldn’t have minded cuffing her brother herself in this moment.

Jack secured Ry’s hands behind his back and dragged him back a few feet so that he was in a sitting position and could lean against a tree trunk.

Ry’s gaze moved back and forth, from Jack to Chloe, then beyond them as if he was looking for someone to come rescue him. Or maybe take him away.

“What are you guys doing here?” Ry demanded, falling back on being surly and accusatory. Because why wouldn’t he, cuffed and outnumbered?

She really hoped whatever he’d gotten himself mixed up with, whatever punishments ended up being doled out, would get through his thick skull and make him realize he could be so much more than he allowed himself to be.

“What are we doing here?” Chloe said, barely resisting a sneer. “You snuck away from the Hudsons. You stole my car. What the hell do you think we’re doing here?”

“I’m just borrowing it! Why do you always have to overreact?”

Chloe had often wondered if her brother would give her an aneurysm, but this really took the cake. She took a deep breath, trying to resist the urge to scream at him.

“Why did you take my car to that parking lot, leave your phone in it and end up all the way over here?” Jack asked, his voice low and calm. Clearly trying to de-escalate the situation.

Chloe didn’t know if that was possible. “And how?” she added darkly.

“I don’t—”

“Don’t lie to me.” She pointed her finger at him, narrowly resisted poking him. Hard. “Do you know what kind of trouble you’re in right now? Tell the damn truth, Ry.”

Ry rolled his eyes, and she would have reached out and punched him, probably, but Jack put a hand on her arm. She swallowed down the suddenly swirling anger. Or tried to.

She didn’t know how to get through Ry’s thick head, and he was making it impossible to feel any kind of sorry for him.

“You’ll just get ticked off, but there’s nothing to get mad about,” Ry said, in his usual defiant, oh-so-victimized way. “Dad wanted to meet up. He’s on parole, so it’d have to be quick so he could get back to Texas. I knew it’d get back to you if I did it anywhere where people could see, so we agreed to meet here. I drove over and I waited for him, and he didn’t show. I knew you’d start looking for me, so I figured I’d just walk around for a bit.”

It was a lie—or at least, partly a lie. She doubted very much Ry had walked all the way from the parking lot to this campground. Maybe it was possible in the hours that had passed, but he didn’t look like he’d done any major walking or hiking.

Granted, it didn’t look like he’d killed anyone, either, but she didn’t know what to think about his ability to do that anymore. So she told him. Flat out.

She knelt next to him, looked him straight in the eye. Not because she wanted to soften the blow, whatever blow it would be, but because she wanted to watch every last inch of his reaction. “Dad’s dead, Ry.”

She watched as Ry’s expression drooped and his entire face blanched. There was no shifty discomfort, no guilt, just straight-up shock. “Dead? He shouldn’t be...” Ry swallowed. “You saw him? Dead? You’re sure he’s dead?”

“Yes.”

“But...” Ry shook his head. He looked up at Jack, then back at Chloe right in front of him. Some little war played out over his expression, but she had seen Ry guilty enough times to know none of it was guilt. She’d seen him lie enough times to know what he was working through wasn’t a lie.

“Chloe, you have to get out of here.” He said it seriously, urgently, leaning forward. “I’ve got it handled, okay? But you’ve got to go. She’ll...”

She? It made Chloe think of what Hart had said: a woman had called for help. A woman was involved. Did this connect to Hart more than their father? But Ry didn’t say anything, just trailed off.

So she leaned forward too, got in his face. “Who, Ry?”

He shook his head vehemently, his eyes wide and worried. “I can’t tell you, Chlo. Please. Please . Save yourself. Just let me go. There’s no way it works out if you don’t get out of here. Fast.” He was so earnest, and yes, Ry was a good liar when he wanted to be, but she saw something like genuine fear in his gaze.

Like he actually was trying to protect her. She leaned back a little, his fear sparking her own. Ry trying to be noble felt more worrisome than anything else that had happened today.

She reached out, gripped his shoulder tightly. Hoping some kind of connection would get through all...whatever this was. There was always this wall between them, and she needed to scale it. His attitude, his refusals. Hurdles he refused to acknowledge. But she had to get through to him somehow. “You need to be straight with me. For once. Damn it, Ry. For once, tell me what the hell is going on.”

He leaned forward, so close that their noses were almost touching while she held on to his shoulder. When he spoke, he enunciated each word clearly, his eyes a maze of fear and determination she’d never seen in him before.

“I can’t tell you, Chloe.”

“Good boy,” a female voice said, and Chloe dropped Ry’s shoulder, whirling as best she could on her knees. Jack had also turned and had his gun out and pointed at the voice—but there was more than one woman standing around them. And they all had their own guns, trained at each of them.

Chloe stared at the trio in utter disbelief. It had been so long since she’d seen the woman with a gun pointed at Jack, she only recognized her because she saw so much of her own face in the woman.

Her mother.

The one with a gun trained on Chloe herself was also familiar. She’d had an off-again, on-again relationship with her father when Chloe was a teen. Sarah, if Chloe remembered correctly. It had been a volatile enough relationship that Chloe had once had to mop up the woman’s bloody nose. She’d been fifteen at the time, maybe? The third woman, with a gun pointed square at Ry, looked vaguely familiar, but Chloe couldn’t place her. Maybe another one of her father’s girlfriend’s? She was on the young side, so maybe one of Ry’s?

Either way, Chloe didn’t know what on earth to make of any of it. She looked at Jack. He had his sheriff’s face on and was unreadable, gun held calmly and relaxed, pointed at Chloe’s mother. But it was three guns to one.

“I’d put the gun down, Deputy,” Jen Rogers said, smirking at Jack. “Or it’s going to get real bloody, real quick.”

“It’s Sheriff these days, Jen.” Because of course Jack had had dealings with her mother when he’d been a deputy for the county years ago. Why wouldn’t he have?

“Well, Sheriff , put the gun down, or I start shooting.”