The Magic of Light

Chapter

Five

Sawyer

The volunteers dispersed and were driving into the field toward where Connor had run. We had already covered this area, but maybe with more eyes, we’d see something we had missed. But what if—

“Wait!” I blurted.

Soren turned toward me, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“What if he doubled back and ran into the fields on the other side of the road?” Soren paused, his eyes scanning the area.

“It’s worth checking out.”

We headed off in that direction after he radioed the other searchers and gave them a heads-up. The fact that he had accepted my ideas so easily made me pause. It felt good. Growing up, I had learned that speaking up often led to consequences I didn’t want to pay. Those ingrained responses often kept me from speaking my mind unless I was truly comfortable with someone. We rode an hour in silence, only making noise to call out Connor’s name. The clock ticked away as the threat of darkness got closer and closer. I didn’t talk, the tension of concern for Connor weighing heavily on my mind. This was beginning to seem more and more scary by the moment. I ran my hands down my jean-clad thighs. Soren looked toward me at the movement.

“I won’t stop until we find him.”

His voice was firm and confident, and somehow, I knew with complete certainty he was telling me the truth. He continued driving by a creek bank that twisted and curved like a ribbon. We paused from time to time when he’d lean over the side and scan the muddy bank. He never indicated why but simply continued along the path. We continued to call out, hoping that Connor could hear us over the wind that howled more fiercely as the cold front moved in. I tucked my hands beneath Soren’s hoodie that was acting as a blanket over my legs.

Further down the creek, Soren slowed down and extended his long muscular arm, pointing toward a small figure in the distance. Connor was huddled against a tree near the edge of the creek, his legs pulled up to his chin and his head laid across his knees. I took a deep breath for what felt like the first time in hours. The sound of the UTV must have registered, because his head shot up and his red, teary eyes widened. Soren drove us the rest of the distance until we pulled up alongside his huddled body. Connor's stance spoke of defeat and his stormy eyes met mine. Soren killed the engine but didn’t move, and I slowly climbed off the UTV, clutching the hoodie in my hands.

“Connor. Would you like to put this hoodie on?”

I held it out as a peace offering, trying to get a read on his mood and anticipate possible movements. Would he come willingly with us, or would this be a struggle? He immediately took the hoodie from my outstretched hand and shimmied into it. It nearly came to his ankles. His own sweater had been pulled down to cover his red fingers from the cold. To my side, I saw Soren texting on his phone, most likely informing the others Connor had been located. My heart finally slowed until it was beating normally. Connor took a choppy gasp. His cheeks were reddened from windburn and the chill in the air. Scanning his body, I didn’t see anything out of place other than his eyes that were red from crying, a few mud smears, and minor scratches here and there.

“I shouldn’t have run away.” The defeat was evident in his shaky voice.

He peered up once more. I paused. I wanted to tell him everything would be okay, but in reality, he took a risk today and could have been injured or worse.

“It wasn’t a safe choice because you could have been hurt, but I understand that you were disappointed. I was worried about you,” I offered softly.

“I just want my dad back.”

His words caught on a sob, and his face crumbled as he buried it in his arm, now covered in the thick, way-too-big hoodie. I heard Soren shift in his seat, clearly uncomfortable about standing back. I could sense his struggle in not helping. In the little time I’d been around him, I could tell he was a ‘take charge’ kind of man. I edged closer to Connor, hoping to bring comfort. I wanted to wrap him in my arms and tell him everything would be okay, but I knew better than most that sometimes everything wasn’t okay. I also knew sometimes physical touch was not the answer—or was even welcomed. I knelt beside him.

“Would you like a hug, Connor?”

“Uh-huh,” he mumbled as he dove for me.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders as his little arms, encased in the hoodie, wrapped around me, and he buried his face in my shoulder.

It was hard to make out his words through the tears, but his next sentence rattled the center of my soul.

“I just want to be like other kids.”

I sniffed against the chill and held him close. I knew that feeling. I knew it better than I knew my own name. I still experienced it, except now I was an adult in a world that was built for “other” adults. Adults without the daily modifications from being a kid that fell through the cracks. Adults without bizarre and broken idiosyncrasies like me. I was closely acquainted with the emotions of “other.”

They say kids are resilient, but are they really when they grow up to be adults who need therapy to unpack things that happened decades ago? Things that had been swept under the rug of resilience.

“I understand,” I said softly.

I wanted to tell Connor I knew exactly how he felt, but the audience of Soren made me hesitant and unsure. I debated how much was too much to share with a nine-year-old. If there was anything I could do to make him feel less alone in this world, I knew I should. I strived daily to be the adult I wished I’d had as a child, and that adult would have helped regardless of who was onlooking. His incredulous eyes found mine.

“When I say I understand, Connor, it’s because I really do. I grew up being moved a lot, and it sucked, but you will have better days. I promise.” I held out my pinky for a pinky promise, because we had made others before. His small pinky linked with mine.

I would not tell him how few better days I had until I was an adult, but Connor was one of my kids. I was determined he’d never set foot into some of the sickening homes I had. I wasn’t going to let him see that side of things. The side that destroyed me from the inside out. The side that made me incomplete as an adult.

I could hear Soren shift again in his seat behind me, as if the band that restrained him was about to snap with action. I appreciated that he wanted to do something when he saw that something was wrong. The world needed more people like him. People that would be moved with compassion to do something. Connor wiped at his eyes.

“You were a foster kid?” Connor asked in disbelief. I paused.

“Yes, I was.”

The heat of Soren’s eyes burned on my back. I usually never vocalized anything personal, because nothing made me recognize my differences more than talking about my hell of a childhood. Connor looked at me before promising, “I’m sorry. I won’t run away again.”

I patted his shoulder and guided him toward the UTV. Only time would tell if he’d keep his word, but until then, I’d do everything in my power to help him have the best childhood possible.

“Lane will be here in a minute, then we can ride back to my place,” Soren instructed.

I couldn’t meet his eyes right now. Not when I'd laid my soul excruciatingly bare for someone I’d just met.

Soren stood and gestured to his seat, where I could sit while Connor took mine. Soren pulled a pack of Skittles from his backpack and tossed them to Connor.

“Hey, dude. I’m Soren.” Connor’s eyes met Soren, and he gave a small smile.

“Thank you!” Connor ripped open the bag and made quick work of the candy.

I scrubbed my hands down my face. Equally tired and relieved. The telltale signs of coming down from an adrenaline rush. Soren grasped his hand on my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. Like Connor, I wished I was normal. Because instead of seeing it as an innocent comforting gesture, it surprised me and made me involuntarily flinch. Embarrassment made my face crimson. Soren removed his hand as gently as he had placed it and leaned down to search my face, meeting my eyes.

I didn’t know him well enough to explain. I wanted to tell him that I appreciated the gesture, but that sometimes my body and brain couldn’t agree on how to respond to things that startled me. Once I had time to reflect and take a moment for my racing heart to settle, I realized I was pushing away the very things I wanted most. Sometimes being completely wrapped up in a hug by someone I trusted sounded like the best thing that could ever exist in this world. Talia had long since ignored my immediate responses to things like hugs. I hardly ever had those involuntary physical reactions to her anymore, because she made it her business to hug me often and fiercely. It was as if my body and brain had realized that she was safe. She always said I could consider her my personal hug machine. I would always laugh, and she’d always squeeze me tighter. I did something brave and placed my hand on his forearm. His brow was quizzical, and the heat from his body bled through the thick canvas of his coat.

“Thank you. I couldn’t have found him without you.”

His mouth tugged at one corner and he nodded. He wasn’t quite smiling but his gaze was warm. Swiftly, someone who I was assuming was Lane crested the hill behind us and came riding up. He was oddly familiar as though I’d seen him before but it was potentially from the meeting earlier at Soren’s house. He was tall, athletically lean, and could be a cover model, with sandy blond hair and emerald eyes. After introductions, Connor buckled in on Lane’s UTV, and we headed back toward Soren’s house. The volunteers dispersed after I thanked each one. Medics examined Connor as I made several calls to the office, the Martins, the Baileys, and a quick text to Talia. The Baileys lived twenty minutes away and insisted on coming to pick up Connor to make the transition as easy as possible for him. They were truly some of the kindest people I had ever known. If I had ever had grandparents, I would have wanted someone like them. Mrs. Bailey was an avid gardener and baker, always sending me away with fresh baked goods anytime I transported kids to or from their home. I had even gotten her to share her delicious apple pie recipe. I hugged Connor once more, and he apologized to Soren who was more than gracious, even though I knew that monopolizing his afternoon had messed up his day. I waved at the Baileys and Connor as they pulled away.

Soren stood beside me, and I turned, saying, “I’ll be out of your hair now. Thank you again, and I hope the rest of your day is far less eventful.” A small smile tugged at my lips.

“Yeah.” He drew out the word and rubbed the back of his neck before his hazel eyes found mine. “Sawyer, I live my life with a ‘no regrets’ approach. I’d kick my own butt if I didn’t ask. There’s not anyone hurting you right? You’re safe?” My breath caught. My eyes widened and my cheeks heated as I realized he was referencing touching my shoulder earlier. I felt like a complete freak, but I was also strangely comforted that he was the type of man that would ask and not turn a blind eye.

“Not anymore.” I shared too much but also thought this sincere question deserved a truthful answer.

“Okay.” He nodded his head slowly, his eyes locked with mine, assessing and seeing too much.

“I should get going . . . ”

I hitched a thumb toward the car, having already collected all of my things. I didn’t know why, but part of me wanted to stay. That familiar sensation hit me again as if I’d been here before, but I pushed it aside because the exhaustion was creeping in again.

“Is someone coming to get you? You must be exhausted,” he asked.

“No, I live about forty-five minutes away so I’ll be home soon.”

“You can’t drive this tired.” His brow lowered, and the hard lines from earlier found his face again.

“I don’t have a choice,” I rebuffed.

“Let me drive you home. Lane or Jonah can follow and bring me back.”

“No,” I clipped. My pride prevented me from burdening this man with one more thing today. “No, you’ve done enough,” I reasoned.

His face darkened and something resembling a growl escaped him.

“Give me your phone.” He held his hand out expectantly as if I’d simply obey. I furrowed my eyebrows. “Please.” That without question was a growl.

“You’re not my keeper.” My hands found my hips. I normally had a hard time standing up for myself, but there was something about him that made me want to be braver than I typically was.

“Give me the phone or I’m following you all the way home to make sure you get there safely.” He tilted his head in challenge.

I squinted my eyes because even in the short time I’ve been around him, I knew enough to know he would. Jerk. I handed over my unlocked phone, albeit as slowly as possible. I couldn’t see what he was doing, but he scrolled a few seconds then held the phone to his ear. What?! Who was he calling? I reached for my phone and he shifted away.

“Hey!” I shrieked. At this point, I was an ankle-biter dog trying to scale this mountain of a man—avoiding contact but still reaching for my phone.

“Hey, Talia. It’s Soren from earlier.” Oh, good grief! He paused as if he were listening.

“Oh, yeah. She’s fine, but she’s being stubborn. Hey, since she won’t let me drive her home, do you think you could talk to her on the drive home to make sure she doesn’t fall asleep?” Now I growled. Ugh. Double jerk. Soren smiled a deeply satisfied smile as he paused and listened, as if he chatted with my best friend all the time.

He flicked an amused glance at my grabby hands and shifted away. His eyes sparkled with delight. His smile temporarily stunned me into silence. He was entirely handsome.

“Mmm-hmm. She does like her questions,” he responded cheekily.

“Yeah, she’s looking sorta . . . grumpy,” he remarked with a smirk, making a show of looking me up and down like he was assessing my behavior. I crossed my arms across my chest.

Talia must be chatting away because he smiled, nodded, and remarked with affirmatives occasionally.

“Yep. Sounds good. Here she is.”

He held out the phone and passed it to me. I swiped it up as fast as possible.

“Here ya go, Pretty Girl. Drive safe.”

Soren winked at me, a smirk on his lips as he inclined his head and confidently walked away toward his porch. He watched me connect my phone to the car, buckle, and drive away. He raised a hand like he was the cowboy king of front porches, and he’d done me a favor by contacting my friend. I pushed aside the feeling that I liked how concerned he was about me driving home safely.