Chapter 42
Celine
The world got blurry and fear surged through me with enough force to nearly knock me over.
“Julian,” I cried, my heart lodged in my throat.
Josh was by my side, holding me up. Keeping me from swaying. One hand steady on my back, not restraining, but anchoring me.
“We’ll find him,” he said. “I sent the girls upstairs to look under every bed and in every closet, just in case he’s hiding.”
As he spoke, his tone remained calm and soothing. He didn’t rush me and he didn’t bark orders.
“He ran,” I said, looking through the open door.
“I should have known. He hasn’t eloped in weeks, and today?
Today terrified him. I should have protected him, and I didn’t.
And just—” The guilt came sharp and viscous, stabbing into me and drowning me at the same time, my instincts screaming at me that I’d failed him.
A sob overtook me, and I clung to Josh, my tears flowing. I was wasting time and breath crying when I should be searching. It was one more reason to berate myself, yet my body needed to release all this pent-up emotion before I could think clearly.
“He couldn’t have gone too far,” Josh murmured. “I’ll get my coat. We’ll find him. The farm is big but not that big.” He whistled.
“I think Wayne left too,” Maggie said when the dog didn’t immediately appear.
I stumbled to the door, scanning the farm for sight of them, calling my little boy’s name at the top of my lungs.
“I’ll get Nolan,” Josh said gently. “He can help.”
“I’ve got to go.” My baby was out there, alone and in the cold. I had to find him.
“Go,” he said. “I’ll follow your lead.” His words cut through my panic, steadying me.
“I’ll go to the main barn,” I said. “Check the orchard and call me.”
After telling the girls to stay in the house, I darted to the big barn, calling for Julian again, begging the universe for a sign of him.
He wouldn’t run toward anything noisy. He wouldn’t cross water. If he was overloaded, he would have been searching for quiet and familiar. A place he’d been before. I forced my brain to slow, to think like his. He didn’t run randomly; he ran with purpose.
“Julian,” I cried. “It’s Mom. I’m safe. You’re safe. Please come out.”
I paced around the building, looking in every nook and cranny. It wasn’t dark yet, but the sun would set in another hour or so.
“Please,” I cried. Please, baby. “I’m so sorry. I know you’re scared.”
I did another lap, looking for footprints or any other sign.
An engine revved outside, so I scurried out, finding Josh approaching on one of the ATVs.
“The deputy is taking Phyllis in to book her.” He was calm and serious, delivering the information carefully like he didn’t want to add to the weight of fear that was already crushing me.
It made my heart clench. His support was keeping me standing, and the way he filled me in rather than telling me what I should do only gave me more strength.
“Nolan’s going to check the orchard, garden, and sheds. I told him no loud noises, no sirens, and that if he finds him, to call us immediately so we can intervene.”
A shaky breath escaped me. “Thank you.”
“Jasper is on his way too. No sirens. And I figured we’d take this. We can cover more ground with it.”
I nodded, still searching and scanning. It was getting cold enough to see my breath, though with the way the panic burned inside me, I was covered in sweat.
“Where would he want to go?” Josh asked gently.
“Somewhere familiar,” I said. “Somewhere he has positive associations with.”
“Let’s go up the main road. We’ll check the buildings one at a time.”
I held on tight to Josh as he drove up the road, both of us calling Julian’s name. My mind reeled the whole time. I should have seen this coming. I promised him safety. The thought of him cold and alone…
My stomach turned over.
For a moment, I thought I would vomit up the banana bread we’d made this morning. But I forced myself to sit up straighter and swallowed back the urge. I needed to stop obsessing about what I hadn’t done and focus on what I could do now.
As we drove past the old sugar shack, a flash of bright green among all the muted browns and mossy hues caught my attention.
“Stop.” I hopped off the ATV and ran to the item.
“It’s his,” I said, holding up a single Minecraft sock. The sight knocked the air out of my lungs. Bare feet. Cold ground. I imagined him wincing with every step and almost collapsed.
I clutched the sock, my despair growing. It had been at least an hour. Who knew where he could be. And I’d failed him.
“Celine.” Josh ran his hands up and down my arms. “You can do this.” The statement wasn’t encouragement; he’d worded it like a fact.
Eyes closed, I looked at the farm through Julian’s eyes. I borrowed his joy, his logic and his patterns. Where would I go when the world felt too loud?
I visualized the tractors in the barn, the tasty apples on the trees, running wild with Wayne. This place had become his home. I could see him asking Josh questions, playing with the tools, and his broad smile at the pumpkin race.
“The pumpkin race,” I said. “The building where you and the kids hollowed out the pumpkin.” My mind spun. “He had so much fun. And he still talks about it.”
“The equipment barn.” He nodded. “Let’s go.”
We raced down the road toward the outskirts of the farm, closer to route eleven. The building was not a folksy barn, but more of a giant metal shed. Josh stored machinery and other big equipment that didn’t get used a lot in here.
There was a hill leading to the large door for easy access, so he’d driven the forklift right up to it and we’d spent days working on the boat, listening to music, and eating snacks. Julian had loved every minute.
Josh stopped outside the barn, and I scrambled to the ground, then took off toward the nearest door.
Inside, the barn was dark, but I closed my eyes and prayed he was here. My heart lodged in my throat. If he wasn’t, I didn’t have a clue where to look next.
“Julian” I called, my voice bouncing off the walls. “It’s Mom. Are you in here?”
I dug my phone out of my pocket and turned on the flashlight, then swung it from one side of the building to the other, searching. Josh came up behind me, flipping on the lights.
Was he here?
I ducked behind every trailer, every piece of equipment, and all the extra hay bales shrink wrapped in plastic to save for winter.
Rather than a little boy, I discovered a wagging tail and a dog trotting toward us.
“Wayne,” I sobbed.
Josh crouched, taking his head in his hands. “Where is he?”
“Julian,” I shouted, following Wayne as he weaved through storage shelves. My heart was hammering in my ears, so I almost missed the faint whimpering. But when I heard it, I stopped and held my breath. Another whimper, and I was calling out his name again, darting toward the sound.
Julian was crouched in a corner, next to a stack of lumber. He was curled up, his hands covering his ears, rocking softly and crying, his whole body shaking. Relief and grief collided, relief that he was alive and grief that he’d been so scared.
I dropped to my knees, wrapping my arms around him. “Julian, baby,” I said softly. “I’m here. You’re safe.”
He didn’t speak, just kept shivering.
Josh towered over us, shucking his coat and handing it to me.
I wrapped the huge, warm garment around my boy’s tiny body. “Mama’s here,” I said softly. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” I memorized the weight of him in my arms. The proof of his life.
“You’re freezing,” I said through my tears. “Can we take you home?”
He didn’t say anything, but when I stood and picked him up, he didn’t fight or argue. Keeping him wrapped in Josh’s coat, I brushed his hair out of his face and squeezed him tight.
Josh reached out to take him, but I only held him tighter. Julian was overstimulated and probably in shock. He likely wouldn’t do well with anyone but me.
But then Julian shifted, loosening the hold he had on me, and reached for Josh. It was the clearest signal I’d ever seen. Trust and safety.
As Josh cradled him in his arms, Julian rested his head on his chest. Josh went utterly still, like he understood the weight of what he’d just been given. He held my son like he was precious, not fragile.
My chest ached with gratitude for this man.
I could see it now. He wasn’t trying to control me; he was trying to earn his place in our lives.
As I stared at this man holding my son. The dam inside me burst. The love for my children, the fear I’d been carrying around for years, and guilt and shame and anguish. It all came crashing down.
I shook as I cried, with relief, with exhaustion, and with yearning for the very thing I’d been denying myself for so long. Safety.
“Jasper’s at the house,” he said. “I’ll have him examine him. Let’s get back.”
We left the barn, with Wayne dutifully following.
Josh started a fire in the hearth and Jasper got his medical kit out right away. After a quick examination, he determined that aside from a few cuts on his feet, Julian was healthy.
The girls wouldn’t let go of him, so the three of them were now wrapped in a comforter on Josh’s couch. They were tangled together like they were instinctively rebuilding their bond. Not perfect, but whole.
Josh sat with them, feeding them snacks and watching Sponge Bob Square Pants while I spoke to Nolan in the kitchen, giving him all the details about my encounter with Phyllis. I handed over the cards, notes, and emails, as well as the parole board statement.
“I’m going to have to speak to the kids,” he said.
He’d been kind and patient, tall and broad shouldered and dressed in his uniform, but carrying himself like the weight of protecting this town had begun to wear on him.
His beard was neatly trimmed, and grays had started to creep in at his temples, and the lines around his eyes were deeper than I remembered.
“Tomorrow?” I asked.
“Of course. I can come here. Or you can come down.”
“She’ll call you in the morning.” Josh put his arm around my shoulder. “They’ve been through hell, man.”
Nolan nodded. “Just making sure I’ve got all the details.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I can’t take another violent incident in Maplewood. We’re supposed to be a foliage and farmers’ market kind of place.”
“It’s been a rough year,” Josh said, pulling me into his side.
“That’s one way to put it.” With a sigh, Nolan headed for the door. “Another would be cursed.”