Chapter
Three
Sawyer
It had been two hours, and we hadn’t seen any evidence of Connor anywhere. I had mentally prepared for the two hours, although I was hopeful that we would have already found him. That I’d be on my way, with him tucked safely in the car.
My heart sank as we hit that two-hour mark. Soren drove us back to the original meeting place on the road, and I briefly contemplated how much of a weirdo this man would think I was if I reached for my chain. Instead, I bit the inside of my cheek, a habit I always resorted to in the presence of someone I didn’t know that well. Soren hadn’t received a call from Travis or Fulton saying they had found Connor either. When you routinely handle situations where a teen or child has runaway, you don’t freak out nearly as much as someone who’s never experienced it. You immediately begin working out the logistics and handling the crisis. I felt as if I was on the brink of panicking again. I knew both through training and firsthand experience that when a child’s life was in complete chaos, running away was their way of asserting control. They were essentially deciding where they were, the place they lived, and who they surrounded themselves with. What made this situation different was that he had never run in such a rural area, and I worried about the elements, wild animals, and the creeks that crisscrossed the land. None of the creeks I’d seen looked especially deep. We had crossed two with the UTV and my feet had even stayed dry, but that didn’t mean the water wasn’t deep in other places. I tapped my fingers trying to calm my nerves. Fulton and Travis were waiting for us when we reached the road.
“Any luck?” Travis asked, his dark brows raised in expectation.
“Not a trace,” Soren answered solemnly.
“We’re gonna need to call in backup. I checked with the deputies patrolling and talking to neighbors, and there’s been no lead there either.”
Fulton looked toward the sky. “We’ve got a good three to three-and-a-half hours of daylight left, and that cold front is supposed to be moving in tonight. Was the kid wearing a jacket?” He turned toward me, his eyes permanently crinkled from years of smiling, although he wasn’t smiling now.
“No, he left it in the car. I’m worried, he’s not used to all this.”
I gestured somberly toward the surrounding fields.
“We’ll find him. Let’s head back to the farm and fuel up again. I’ll round up a few more guys and we’ll keep searching,” Soren said with a determined tilt to his chin, driving toward his house.
“Can I please borrow your phone, or is there somewhere I’ll have steady cell service? I need to check in with my team and my friend.”
I reached toward my phone that was now fully charged. My toes were cold, and all I wanted was a warm pair of socks.
“Yeah, I’ll help you get connected to my Wi-Fi, and I have a landline for emergencies you can use.”
Within minutes, we pulled up at his house. Fulton and Travis both went separate ways to tackle their tasks. I unbuckled, and Soren directed me toward the door. I didn’t know what I was expecting his house to resemble on the inside, but it wasn’t this. You could tell a lot about someone on how they kept the place they lived. It was tidy and masculine, complete with a matching set of intentionally aged leather furniture and a few wall hangings. The decor was homey in a minimal but cozy way. The colors throughout the modern farmhouse were touches of cream, copper, and navy. It appeared freshly remodeled, and everything centered around a large stone fireplace that flanked the middle of the room with a weathered wood beam mantel. The mantel held a scattering of photos and a wooden hand carved horse. A large painting in muted earth tones, depicting a field of cattle and cowboys, rested at the center of the mantel.
“Let me see your phone and I’ll input the password.” Soren said from my side where he had been as my eyes wandered the space.
I handed over my phone. My screensaver was a floral quote card that simply stated “You are loved.” He raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. I felt embarrassed since no one ever used my phone and saw that.
After a painfully exhausting day a couple of months ago, Talia had snagged my phone and added it, and I had never changed it. At times I needed the reminder that I was not completely alone in this world. Sometimes, loneliness felt like a dark bottomless void.
He perhaps wondered what it meant, but I didn’t feel comfortable trauma dumping on someone who would essentially always be a stranger. He was good at deflection, but I was the master of it. You didn’t grow up the way I did and not learn how to artfully avoid intrusive questions.
“It’s locked.” Oh, good grief.
“Oh, sorry.” Our hands brushed as I typed in the passcode.
He worked quickly connecting the Wi-Fi and handed it back.
“There. That should work.” He retrieved a cordless phone and handed it to me.
“Thank you.”
“Bathroom is down the hall. First door on the left. I’m going to call a few people and round up some help.” He walked to his kitchen counter, pulled out a barstool, and called someone on his cell.
I placed the phone on an end table and immediately headed for the bathroom. I’d needed to go for the last thirty minutes. I caught my reflection in the mirror as I washed my hands and shuddered. My cheeks were wind burned, my hair tangled with flyaways. I was a mess. I sighed at my hopeless reflection and went to call my team and Talia. The call with the team went as expected. My boss took notes, and I promised to text or call depending on the signal once he was found. I would continue to report back as there were updates. I called Talia, and she was ten minutes out. My chin trembled as tears threatened to spill over. I was bone tired. My headache had eased but was still present, and my feet tingled now that they were warming up. I immediately called the Martins, Connor’s foster parents, and the Baileys, Connor’s respite home for the weekend, and explained the situation. The foster family insisted on returning from their couple’s trip, but I talked them into holding off for a couple of hours. I promised to update them as soon as possible. By the time they arranged transportation and arrived, hours would have passed, and hopefully, by that point, Connor would be found. The respite family had offered to come help, but they were an older couple, and between Fulton and Soren, we would have plenty of help.
As I finished the calls, I glanced up. Soren was studying me as he talked to someone on his cell about joining the search. His free hand fidgeted, flipping a coin across his knuckles. He finished his call, pocketed the coin, and he walked toward where I was in the family room.
“Travis is refueling the UTVs. Fulton called in two off-duty deputies and five volunteer first responders, and I have six local guys with their own UTVs headed this way. Everyone will be here within twenty minutes. Then we’ll head back out.”
He delivered this information while he did that thing, as if he was taking inventory of my exhausted state. His intense hazel eyes appeared more green-gray than amber in the interior lighting. It was unnerving, but there was something about him that told me, on a deeper level, that he approached everything in life with this intensity, like he lived his life with consuming intention.
“Thank you. I’m really sorry. I knew he was upset, I just didn’t realize how much. This is my fault,” I stated.
I raised my eyes to meet his. I was sure the exhaustion was evident on my face.
“My friend Talia will be here any minute. She’s bringing me a change of clothes and boots.”
I bit my lip, unsure of what else to say, and willed my tears not to spill over. I never cried, except for when I was tired, and I was beyond tired. He cleared his throat. Of course, I was making him uncomfortable. I was making myself uncomfortable. But exhaustion was exhaustion, and my body was turning on me. I blinked rapidly in an attempt to dispel the tears.
“I don’t think you’re the type of person that someone would run from.” His words were quiet but left me questioning what he truly meant.
A moment later, his phone rang, and the awkwardness lessened. At least for now.