Page 42

chapter

thirty

The bakery felt too quiet without Oliver’s chatter, too empty without the warmth of her regular customers.

It was closing time, and she hadn’t had a customer in nearly thirty minutes, but she couldn’t bring herself to flip the sign.

Once she did that, she had a whole hour until she had to pick Oliver up from school.

Usually, she enjoyed this time to herself, but now an hour with her thoughts sounded like torture. She wanted her son back, wanted the distraction he provided.

Of course, as soon as she picked him up, the questions would start again.

Why did Jax leave so fast Saturday?

She’d told him Jax had to get back to work, that Echo needed to go home. Oliver had accepted it with the easy trust of a seven-year-old, but she’d seen the disappointment in his eyes.

The same disappointment she’d seen in Jax’s face when she’d told him she couldn’t have him around Oliver.

She’d done the right thing. She knew she had. Oliver was her priority, her responsibility. She couldn’t let her feelings for Jax put her son at risk.

But, dammit, it hurt.

The devastation on Jax’s face when she’d said it, like she’d reached into his chest and ripped out what was left of his heart.

She’d thought that was the end of it, but that night, the questions started.

Why did Jax look sad when he left?

When is Jax coming back?

Can we go to the ranch to see Jax and Echo and the other animals?

It had been nothing but Jax, Jax, Jax and Echo, Echo, Echo all weekend.

She’d been relieved to put him on the bus this morning—just for the break—but now she wanted nothing more than to answer his barrage of questions.

She’d had too much time to think. Too much time to wonder if she’d made the right choice.

Nessie grabbed a rag and wiped down the counter for the third time, scrubbing at a coffee stain that was decades old and never coming out. Her hands needed something to do while her mind raced.

The bell above the door jingled, and Nessie’s head snapped up, half-expecting to see him standing there despite everything.

But it was just Mariah.

“Whew. It’s windy enough to blow the stripes off a flag,” she said in her sweet southern lilt and then winced as the wind blew the door shut behind her. “There’s a storm rolling in. You can feel the charge in the air.”

She set her purse down on the counter and batted her dark auburn hair out of her eyes. “Oh, honey. You look like hell. And that’s coming from someone who spent the morning wrestling with a bridal shower arrangement for Mrs. Henderson. She’s changed her mind five times about the color scheme.”

“Thanks,” Nessie muttered, tossing the rag into the sink. “Just what every woman wants to hear.”

Mariah tsked. “If your best friend can’t tell you the truth, who can? Have you slept at all?”

Nessie shrugged and busied herself with stacking clean mugs that were already perfectly organized. The ceramic clinked together as her hands shook slightly.

Yes, sleep had been elusive since Saturday. Every time she closed her eyes, she either saw Jax’s wounded expression or, worse, Alek’s face, twisted with rage, promising that no one would ever take what was his.

“You did the right thing,” Mariah said softly, reading her thoughts. “Those Valor Ridge men are dangerous.”

“Oh, not you, too. They’re not dangerous. Jax would never hurt me or Oliver. None of them would.”

“Not all danger leads to physical harm,” Mariah said softly, sounding very much like a woman who had learned that life lesson the hard way. “You’ve been crying yourself to sleep ever since you told him to stay away.”

Heat flooded her cheeks. Was it that obvious? “I haven’t?—”

“Honey, please. Your eyes are redder than a stop sign, and you’ve got that hollow look you get when you’re not eating.” Mariah moved closer and caught her hands, stilling her busy but purposeless motions. “I’m worried about you.”

Nessie turned away, staring out the window at the darkening sky. Storm clouds were building over the mountains, heavy and threatening. The wind rattled the glass, and she could smell the ozone in the air, that electric scent that came before lightning.

“You didn’t see him with Oliver,” she said quietly.

“The way he was so patient, so gentle. Oliver painted with his dog, Mariah. This broken, scared dog, who doesn’t trust anyone, let my son shove a paintbrush in her mouth because Jax has spent the last month working with her.

How can a man like that be bad for me? For Oliver? ”

Mariah opened her mouth, but then closed it again without saying anything when Nessie’s phone rang.

She dug it out of her apron and frowned at the caller ID. “It’s the school.”

Mariah’s eyes went wide, and she dug in her purse for her own phone, relaxing only when she saw no notifications. “They haven’t called me, and you know Tate and Oliver are joined at the hip. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

Nessie sucked in a breath and answered, “Hello?”

“Ms. Harmon? This is Melissa Martinez from Solace Elementary.”

Everything in her went still. Her heart. Her breath. Principal Martinez never called parents directly unless something was seriously wrong. “Is Oliver okay?”

“That’s what I’m calling about. There was an incident at recess today. Another student was saying some unkind things about... well, about the recent events in town. Oliver got upset and pushed the boy. When the playground supervisor tried to talk to him, he ran off.”

The phone nearly slid from her hand. “What do you mean, ran off?”

“He left the playground. We’ve searched the school grounds. We thought he was just hiding, but when we couldn’t find him, we thought maybe he went home?—”

“He’s not here.” Panic clawed at her throat. “How long has he been gone?”

“About twenty minutes. We’ve called the sheriff’s office, and they’re sending someone out to look for him. But I thought you should know?—”

“I’ll be right there.” She hung up and stood frozen for a moment, her mind racing. Oliver was out there somewhere, alone, upset. It was her fault. She’d pushed Jax away, and now Oliver was paying the price.

“What is it?” Mariah sounded like she was shouting from the end of a very long tunnel. “Nessie, what’s wrong?”

“Oliver ran away from school,” she whispered. “Someone was saying things about Jax, about the murder, and Oliver pushed the kid and then just... left.”

Mariah’s face went pale. “Oh, honey.”

“They can’t find him.” The words came out strangled. Her chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself, each breath a struggle. “He’s been gone twenty minutes.”

Twenty minutes. Oliver was small for his age and somewhere out there alone. The storm clouds were rolling in fast, and the temperature was dropping. He didn’t even have his jacket because it had been so warm this morning.

“Okay.” Mariah’s voice was steady, grounding. “Okay, we’ll find him. Where would he go? Does he have a favorite hiding spot?”

Nessie’s mind went blank. She didn’t know. She couldn’t think.

Except…

“Oh, God. He wouldn’t try to go to the ranch, would he?”

“I’ll get the car,” Mariah said and ran for the door.

Nessie grabbed her phone again and hesitated over Jax’s number for a split second. She’d just told him she couldn’t have him around her son. How could she call him now?

But Oliver was out there, scared and alone. Pride wasn’t worth her son’s safety.

She dialed.

“Nessie?” Jax sounded rough, uncertain.

“Oliver’s missing.” Saying it out loud made it feel even more real, and tears sprang to her eyes. “He ran away from school. I-I think he’s trying to go to the ranch, but it’s so far…”

“I’m coming.” No hesitation. No questions. “Where do you want to meet?”

“The school, I guess. I—” She couldn’t finish the sentence. Couldn’t admit how terrified she was, how much she needed him right now.

“I’ll be there as fast as I can. He’ll be okay, Nessie. We’ll find him,” he said with absolute certainty, and hung up.

Nessie grabbed her keys and purse, her hands still shaking.

As she locked the bakery, Mariah’s car pulled up, followed by two other vehicles.

In the battered pickup was Delwyn Marks, the owner and bartender at the Rusty Spur, and the SUV belonged to Cody and Jodie Simms, who owned the hardware store.

Word was already spreading.

Del rolled down his window. “We’ll find him, Nessie. Whole town’s on alert.”

“Thank you.” She could barely squeeze the words out as she slid into the passenger side of Mariah’s car. She turned to buckle and saw more cars filling Main Street—too many cars for a sleepy Monday afternoon. “How do they all know?”

“I called Margery Pendry,” Mariah said simply, as if that explained everything.

This was why she’d stayed when Brandt wanted to relocate them. Maybe Solace wasn’t safe anymore…

But at least when she needed help, the whole town came running.