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“Jesus,” Brandt said. “She wants to track him.”

“She’s not trained for search and rescue,” Jax protested. “She’s barely been off the ranch.”

“But she knows his scent,” Nessie said, hope flaring in her chest for the first time in hours. “She spent time with him. She painted with him.”

Echo barked again, more insistently this time. She ran back and forth between the edge of the parking lot and Jax.

“She’s trying to tell us where he is,” Nessie breathed.

Jax looked at the dog, then at the dark woods beyond the school. Rain was falling harder now, and the temperature was dropping by the minute. “Alright, girl. You know where he is? Show us.”

Echo moved through the woods as if she were following a map only she could read.

She led them through an area that had already been thoroughly searched, but she seemed confident they were going in the right direction.

Her nose stayed close to the ground, pausing occasionally to sniff at broken branches or muddy patches where small feet might have passed.

Jax followed close behind, his flashlight beam cutting through the darkness, while Nessie and Brandt brought up the rear.

The rain had turned the forest floor into a treacherous mess of mud and fallen leaves. Nessie slipped twice, her sneakers no match for the terrain, but she pushed forward. Every step Echo took with confidence felt like a step closer to Oliver.

“There,” Jax said suddenly, his flashlight beam catching something pale against the dark trunk of a massive pine tree.

“Oliver!” Nessie broke into a run, stumbling over roots and rocks.

Her son was huddled in the hollow where the tree’s roots had been exposed by erosion, his knees drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped around his legs. He was soaked through, his Minecraft T-shirt clinging to his small frame, his lips tinged blue with cold.

“Oliver,” she gasped, dropping to her knees beside him. “Oh, my sweet baby.”

He looked up at her with wide, frightened eyes. He’d been crying, the skin around his eyes red and puffy. “Mommy?”

Her heart cracked wide open. He hadn’t called her that in two years.

“I’m here.” She gathered him into her arms. “I’m right here, baby. You’re okay.”

“I’m sorry. I-I’m so sorry I ran away. I tried to find my way back, but—I c-c-couldn’t and?—”

“Shh, it’s okay.” She rocked him, stroking down a wild cowlick of wet hair. “You’re safe and I have you. That’s all that matters.”

Oliver’s gaze landed on Jax, who was standing behind her, Echo faithfully at his side, her tail wagging. He blinked. “Jax? You came to find me?”

“Of course I did, buddy.” Jax cleared his throat and rested a hand on his dog’s back. “Echo was worried about you. She knew you were in trouble.”

As if summoned by her name, Echo nosed her way between them and began licking Oliver’s face, her whole body wiggling with relief.

“Echo found me,” Oliver said, his voice small and wondering. “She’s the best dog ever.”

“She sure is,” Jax agreed. “She cares about you.”

Brandt appeared with a thermal blanket. “We need to get him warm and dry fast.”

Nessie wrapped the blanket around Oliver’s shoulders, but she could feel how badly he was shivering. “Can you walk, baby?”

“I think so.” Oliver tried to stand, but his legs were shaky. Without hesitation, Jax scooped him up, blanket and all.

“I got you,” he said.

The walk back to the parking lot seemed to take forever.

By the time they reached the trucks, word had spread through the search teams. The Valor Ridge men were converging on the parking lot, their relief palpable.

Mariah was there, too, tears streaming down her face as she called off the search teams.

Nessie couldn’t believe she’d stayed when she had her own son to think of.

“My truck,” Ghost said, leading them over to it. “I’ve had the heater blasting since you said you found him.”

The truck was like an oven. Nessie climbed into the back seat with Oliver, wrapping him in her arms as the warm air began to chase away the chill. His small body gradually stopped shivering, and color returned to his lips.

“I called Dr. Mallory,” Mariah said, leaning through door. “She’s meeting us at the clinic to check him over.”

“I’m okay,” Oliver protested, but it was half-hearted. “I just got scared.”

“It’s okay to be scared,” Jax said, settling into the front passenger seat. Echo had followed them and was now lying across his lap, her eyes fixed on Oliver.

“The kids at school said you were a bad man,” Oliver said. “They said you hurt people.”

Nessie drew him closer, pressing her lips to his temple. The sting behind her eyes was sudden and fierce. “Oliver?—”

“It’s okay,” Jax said quietly. He turned in his seat to face the boy. “They’re not wrong. I did hurt someone once. I made a very bad choice when I was scared and angry.”

Oliver considered this with the seriousness only a seven-year-old could muster. “But you’re not bad now.”

“Everybody is a little bit bad,” Jax said. “It all depends on how much you let the bad take over. Every day, I try to make better choices and try not to let the bad win. Even then, sometimes, when people say mean things, it’s hard not to get angry.”

“That’s why I pushed Kyler,” Oliver said. “I got angry because he said you are a killer.”

“And what happened when you pushed him?”

Oliver’s face crumpled. “He fell down and scraped his elbow. And then everyone was looking at me like I was the bad guy. And I got scared and ran away.”

“Do you think pushing him fixed the problem?” Jax asked gently.

“No,” Oliver whispered. “It made it worse.”

“Yeah, it usually does.”

“Like when you punched Deputy Murdock?”

“Exactly.” Jax reached back and squeezed Oliver’s hand. “You know what I learned from that? The hardest thing isn’t fighting back when someone hurts you. The hardest thing is walking away. Being the bigger person.”

“But what if they keep saying mean things?”

“Then you remember that what they’re saying isn’t about you. It’s about them. People who say mean things are usually scared or hurt themselves. And you know what’s stronger than fighting back?”

Oliver shook his head.

“Being kind anyway. Showing them that you’re not who they think you are.”

Nessie watched her son absorb this wisdom, saw the way he looked at Jax with complete trust and admiration.

This man she’d pushed away was teaching her son the very lessons she’d been trying to teach him herself, but coming from someone who’d lived through the consequences of violence, they carried more weight.

“Will you teach me?” Oliver asked. “How to be the bigger person and not let the bad win?”

Jax’s eyes found Nessie’s, and she saw the question there. The hope. The same hope she’d been afraid to acknowledge in herself.

“If your mom says it’s okay,” Jax said carefully.

Oliver looked at her with pleading eyes. “Please, Mom? I want to be good like Jax.”

Her son saw goodness in this man she’d been afraid to trust. Her son, who was pure and innocent and had never been wrong about people’s true nature.

“Yes,” she said, the word thick with emotion. “Yes, I think that would be good.”

The relief on Jax’s face was almost painful to see. “Then yeah, buddy. I’ll teach you. But first, we need to get you checked out by the doctor, okay?”

Oliver nodded, then looked around at all the people who’d come to find him. “I’m sorry I scared everyone.”

“We’re just glad you’re safe,” Nessie said, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “That’s all that matters.”

As Ghost pulled out of the parking lot, heading for the clinic, Nessie caught Jax’s eye in the rearview mirror.

This time, she didn’t look away. There was so much she needed to say, so much she needed to apologize for.

But for now, it was enough that he was here, that he’d helped find her son, that he’d offered to help heal the damage his own choices had caused.

Maybe they could find their way back to each other after all.

Maybe they could all learn to be bigger people.