Chapter 23 – Chris
The members of the search and rescue team converge at the spot where Jack found Granny’s slipper. Hannah presents the nightgown to Scout, who sniffs it thoroughly. “Go find!” she tells the dog. “Go find!”
Scout takes off down the path, stopping every few feet to smell the ground and sniff the shrubs lining the path. The dog moves at a good clip, Hannah and Killian easily keeping pace with him. Soon, they’re so far ahead on the meandering path we lose sight of them.
Jennie and I, along with Micah and Robyn, follow the same path as the dog. The others have branched out from the path and are cutting through the trees in different directions.
I really wish Jennie had stayed at home. It’s getting close to dark now, and the temperature has dropped quite a bit. Even though she’s wearing a jacket, I still catch her shivering.
But I understand Jennie’s need to be here.
Rosie is the only family she has. Rosie is family to me, too, as far as I’m concerned.
She took care of all of us when we were kids, not just Jennie but her two wayward friends as well—me and Micah.
If it weren’t for Rosie, I never would’ve had a birthday cake when I was a kid.
High-powered flashlights are shining in all directions. Here in the woods, with the thick canopy overhead, it’s pretty dark.
Micah and Robyn are behind us on the trail, about ten feet back.
Like us, they shine their flashlights into the trees and the undergrowth on both sides of the path.
It’s not exactly a trail we’re following—it’s nothing official, nothing marked.
It’s just a well-worn dirt path made from years of kids and adults traipsing through these woods.
“Granny!” Jennie calls loudly. “Granny, can you hear me? It’s Jennie.”
“Ms. Rosie!” Robyn calls.
As we move deeper into the trees, we can hear voices echoing throughout the woods as they call her name. Granny! Rosie! Mrs. Johnson!
The entire SAR team is in these woods. The deputies and neighborhood volunteers continue to canvass the houses in this area in hopes of meeting someone who has seen her.
“Granny!” Jennie trips on a root sticking out of the packed dirt and nearly falls forward.
I manage to catch her and steady her. Her hands are like ice. “The temperature is dropping fast, Jennie. Let me take you home. I’ll come back to rejoin the search.”
“Thanks, but no. I’m staying until we find her.”
I can respect her need to be part of the search, but I don’t have the heart to tell her it’s possible we won’t find Rosie tonight. The fact we haven’t found her yet is concerning. But there’s no point in saying that now. Not until we know more.
I’m still hopeful we’ll find her safe and sound, but in my line of work, it pays to be realistic. I’ve seen a lot of similar situations—a missing vulnerable adult—that didn’t turn out well. God, I hope that’s not the case here. It would devastate Jennie if she lost her grandmother this way.
Lights flicker throughout the woods as the other groups shine their lights into the trees.
I think we should stick to the worn trail because at her age, Granny’s not likely to stray off the path. The woods on either side are just too dense with shrubs and other ground cover for her to easily manage.
Sometime later, we hear an excited dog barking somewhere ahead of us.
Jennie looks to me, her eyes wide and hopeful. “That’s a good sign, right?”
“It could be,” I say. I don’t want to get her hopes up to then have them crash.
I’m about to call Hannah on the radio to ask for an update when she beats me to it.
“Hannah to Chris,” Hannah calls over the radio. “Tell Jennie we found her grandmother. Rosie’s in good health. Over.”
“Copy that, Hannah. Is she on the path? Over.”
“Affirmative. Just keep walking and you’ll run right into us.”
Once she hears this, Jennie picks up the pace, and the rest of us keep up with her. As we get closer, and can hear voices up ahead, Jennie breaks into a run.
We come across our group standing in a huddle.
Scout is sitting quietly behind Hannah, and Killian and Jack stand on either side of her.
And right there in front of them is Rosie Johnson, seated on a fallen log that had been placed conveniently at the side of the path to give hikers a place to rest.
Her hair is wild. Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes are bright as she chats happily with her rescuers.
"Granny!" Jennie cries as she runs up to her grandmother. She drops down beside her on the log and wraps her arms around Rosie. “Are you okay?” She pulls back and scans Rosie from head to toe. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m not hurt,” Rosie says. “But I’m tired and cold. Can we go home now? I’m sure it’s past my bedtime.”
Jennie lays her arm across her grandmother’s shoulders and leans in to kiss the older woman’s cheek. “Yes, ma’am,” she says with a tearful laugh. “We can do anything you want.”
“My foot’s cold.” Rosie lifts her bare left foot. “Has anyone seen my slipper?”
“How about we put some proper shoes on your feet?” Jennie retrieves the sneakers and jacket from the backpack I’m carrying. She puts the shoes and jacket on her grandmother. “Let’s go home now.”.
As soon as we reach an area where I can get a decent cell signal, I call Maggie to let her know we’ve found Rosie. As I deliver the good news, I can hear Dawn crying again, undoubtedly this time in sheer relief.
I also radio the deputies and the volunteers to let them know Jennie’s grandmother has been found, and that they are all welcome to call it a night.
* * *
When we arrive back at Jennie’s house, Jennie takes Rosie inside, where Dawn is waiting eagerly to see her old friend. Dawn nearly smothers Rosie in a bear hug, alternately laughing and crying.
“What’s wrong, Dawn?” Rosie asks her, clearly perplexed. “Why are you crying?”
“I’m crying because I’m so glad to see you, that’s why.”
“You see me all the time, dear. There’s no reason to get excited.”
Jennie takes Rosie off for a hot bath and then bed.
Poor Dawn, who is clearly exhausted, says goodnight and heads home, promising to be back bright and early the next morning.
After everyone has had a chance to warm up, they all head home. Hannah, Killian, and Scout. Ruth and Jack, Owen and Maggie, Maya, Travis.
After they’ve all gone, the house is quiet. I sit in the living room waiting for Jennie to reappear.
A short while later, looking ragged after a traumatic evening, Jennie walks into the living room. “She’s already asleep. She was exhausted.”
Jennie drops down onto the sofa beside me and bursts into tears.
“It’s okay, honey,” I say as I put my arm around her. “I think you’re exhausted, too. Let’s get ready for bed. Tomorrow morning will be here too soon.”
That night, after we’re settled in Jennie’s bed, she turns to me, cups my face, and kisses me.
It’s a soft kiss, a gentle one, and I’m not sure if it’s a gesture of gratitude for helping in the search or an invitation for something more.
After what she’s been through today, I wouldn’t want to assume anything.
When her hand travels down my chest, past my abdomen, to my groin, I realize it’s an invitation. “Are you sure?” I ask. I don’t want to take advantage of her emotional state.
Instead of answering me verbally, she wraps her soft fingers around what is now a full-blown erection.
I suck in a breath. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
She laughs softly and then presses a kiss to my throat. I wonder if she can feel my pulse pounding.
We make love then, slow and easy. And if it weren’t for having to get up and dispose of the condom, I would have fallen asleep inside her.