Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Emerson
“ T hat man would forget his balls if they weren’t attached,” Kona Powers said, making me laugh as I fastened a cape around her.
“Men,” I said sympathetically. “They have their strengths, but sometimes remembering things isn’t on the list.”
I’d been cutting Kona’s hair since I opened my salon just over three years ago. Her husband, Abraham, was the sweetest man, but he’d apparently forgotten to buy a fresh turkey when he’d picked up groceries the other day.
“Bless his damn heart,” she said with a grin and a shake of her head.
She was my last client of the day, as we were closing early because of the holiday tomorrow. Kids didn’t have school today, and two of my five stylists had already left town to visit relatives. Everyone was in a festive mood, and Gustie had insisted on playing Christmas music throughout the salon. I knew that’s how it would be for the next four weeks, so I basically braced myself for the crazy ride and the repetitive music. When you ran a business in a small town, the last thing you could be was a Christmas Scrooge.
“What are we doing to your gorgeous locks today?” I asked her as I pointed her at the mirror.
Before she could answer, my cell phone rang. I didn’t get many calls, especially while I was at work, because everyone knew not to bother me. Text messages were different. I could catch up on those later.
I took my phone out and saw Ben’s name as Kona explained the change in hairstyle she was hoping for.
Odd. Ben usually texted me instead of calling, usually about kids or logistics. I’d call him back as soon as I finished with Kona.
The call went to voicemail, but before I could put my phone back in my pocket, it rang again, and my heart lurched with the thought that something must be wrong.
“You need to answer that, hon?” Kona asked just as I was about to excuse myself.
“I’ll be right back,” I told her.
I connected the call as I headed into the back room. “Hey, Ben.”
“Emerson, you need to come home. We can’t find Skyler.”
My blood froze in my veins, and my heart stopped. “She l-likes to hide,” I stuttered out as I stepped out of the back and waved frantically at Willow, one of my stylists. “Did you look in the closets? Under her bed?”
“We searched the house up and down, and I just checked the garage, the barn, and the chicken house. Her coat is gone, so I’m pretty sure she’s outside somewhere.”
“Oh, my God. Should I call nine one one?” My terror made it impossible to think straight.
Willow grasped my hand as I spun around trying to figure out what I needed to do to get out of here and go find my daughter.
“Not yet. Let’s look around the house, on the property. Berty knows she was still in the house twenty minutes ago, so she can’t be far.”
“What if someone took her, Ben?” I clung to Willow as I swayed.
“Berty’s ninety percent sure the doors were locked. I think she ran off.” His breaths were getting heavier, telling me he was actively searching as we spoke. “Come home. Have somebody drive you if you need to. We’re going to find her, Em.”
“On my way.” I ended the call.
I wasn’t sure whether I was breathing or how I was functioning. My mind had shut down on everything except my baby girl.
“Skyler?” Willow asked, apparently having heard Ben through the phone.
“She’s missing.” My throat closed up as I said it. “I have to go.”
“Let one of us drive you.”
Nobody would get me there fast enough. “I can drive. I’m going now.” I halted. “Kona.”
“We’ll tell her what’s going on, and one of us will take care of her if she’ll let us. You go…if you’re sure you’re okay to drive.”
I nodded, and she shoved my coat and purse into my hands.
“Where are your keys?” she asked.
“In here.” I opened my purse and dug till I found them, my mouth desert dry with fear.
Willow ushered me to the door. “Be careful. Call as soon as you know something. Call if you need help. Whatever you need, Emerson…”
I nodded, barely hearing her as I ran to my car, got in, and started it.
My heart was racing hard enough I might stroke out, but until I did, I had to do whatever I could to find my baby girl.
Minutes later, I squealed into Ben’s driveway, scanning for Skyler as I forced myself to slow down in case she popped out in front of my car. I was out of the driver’s seat the second I braked.
“Skyler!” I yelled, leaving my coat and purse on the passenger seat. “Skyler!”
My phone, which I’d apparently thought to shove back in my pocket, rang. It was Ben.
“Did you find her?” I said.
“Not yet, but I found footprints her size in the mud heading into the woods.” He described where he’d seen them and where he’d gone into the trees. Running in that direction, I scanned the area for Ben but didn’t see him.
“I’m coming,” I said.
“You loop out to the main road and go right. Walk along the shoulder and scan the trees from there. I’m following the paths. I don’t think she’d veer too far from the trail. It’s pretty thick in here.”
My heart was pounding so hard I couldn’t get a breath in, but I diverted myself and jogged toward the road as best I could in the worst possible shoes. I couldn’t take the time to change into something better than booties with heels.
“Skyler!” I called, then realized I’d yelled into the phone that was still connected to Ben’s ear. “Where are the others?” I asked him.
“Berty’s staying at the house in case she comes back. I sent the other three to walk along the east fence. Told them to hold hands and not split up no matter what. Evelyn knows what to do, and I trust her to keep the other two close.” His breath was coming fast, telling me he was covering ground. “Call me if you see anything,” he said, then disconnected.
I kept my phone out and my eyes on the dim woods as I skirted the outside of them, calling Skyler every few seconds, trying to shut down the awful thoughts racing through my head. Failing.
“Please, Skyler, come back. Be okay,” I pleaded quietly, desperately. Then I yelled her name again. Each time, I listened carefully, hoping to hear something in return, but there was no response. I could hear Ben calling out in the distance from time to time, but no little-girl answer.
My pleas turned to prayers to God, begging for her to be okay.
The day was cloudy but dry, so at least she wasn’t getting wet, but it was chilly, in the forties. It got dark early this time of year. The sun would set in another hour or so. If we hadn’t found her by then, I was calling in every law enforcement team I could think of.
Maybe I should call them now? Wouldn’t it be better to get them searching before it got dark?
I reached the county road and turned right, hurrying along the outside of the trees, nausea rising, hysteria making me want to scream things besides my daughter’s name, but I held it in because it wouldn’t help us find her.
I didn’t know exactly where Ben’s land ended, but I didn’t figure it mattered. I just kept going, futilely calling for Skyler, my panic growing with every minute that passed. I wouldn’t stop until we had her back.
A while later—I wasn’t sure how much time had gone by—I spotted the next cross street in the distance. I had probably a quarter of a mile to get there, but this was doing no good. Skyler wasn’t popping out of the woods or calling out for her mommy. I’d never felt so utterly helpless in my life.
I lifted my phone to call Ben and figure out a better way. It rang, and his name appeared before I could press Call myself. My heart took off at a sprint again.
“Did you find her?—”
“I’ve got her,” he said. “She’s okay.”
“Oh, my God. Thank God. Where?”
“Meet me back at the house, and we’ll talk. Let’s get her inside.”
“You’re sure she’s okay?”
“Say hi to your mommy,” I heard him say, his voice farther away.
“Hi, Mommy,” Skyler said in a quiet voice.
“Skyler! Are you okay?”
“Yes.” Her voice was tiny, as if she was scared or exhausted or both.
“We’re heading to the house,” came Ben’s voice. “Skyler’s no worse for wear, but are you okay?”
“I will be as soon as I hug her.” Dozens of questions circled my mind, but I swallowed them down. “See you as soon as I can get there.”
I ended the call and took off running, or more like hobbling in the awful shoes that were likely ruined. I didn’t care. I considered throwing them into the woods, but that would slow me down, and I needed to get to my girl.
When I burst into the kitchen, gasping for air from running who knew how far and being terrified for the past hour, three dogs circled and sniffed me, but I sought out my daughter.
Skyler climbed down from Berty’s lap in the dining room, ran up to me, and threw her arms around my legs. I picked her up and squeezed her tight, breathing in her little-girl smell, tears gushing down my face.
“Baby girl, what were you doing? You scared me to death.”
Skyler buried her head in my neck and wailed.
My son rushed to us and put his arms around my waist, telling me he was shaken up too. I bent down to hold both my children close. Through my tears, I saw Evelyn hanging on to Ben’s side, and Ruby had crawled into her grandma’s lap.
I met Ben’s gaze as he hovered a couple feet away.
“She said she wanted to go home ,” he said gently, breaking my heart.
I squeezed my eyes shut. “Baby, this is our home right now. This is where our family is: you, me, and Xavier. That’s home. Sometimes the place has to change, but we’re all together, right?”
“I wanna live with Nana,” she said through her tears.
My poor, darling girl. We’d talked a dozen times about Kizzy falling in love and getting married and having to move away so she could be with her new wife. I’d explained how Nana still loved her to the moon and back and always would. The three of us had discussed finding a new house where we could live happily ever after and that it would take some time for me to find the right place.
“She’ll be here for a visit in three weeks, remember?”
Skyler’s eyes lit up, and Xavier cheered.
“Nana loves you both so much,” I said now. “She would be so scared if she knew you went outside by yourself. You know that?”
She nodded slowly, her face still hidden. “I don’t want to live with the llamas.”
My gaze popped up to Ben’s again. With Evelyn still glued to his side, he stepped toward us and rubbed Skyler’s back. “Their house is out in the barn, sweetie. They can’t get in here. Even if they could, they don’t want to hurt people.”
“Their teeth are scary,” Skyler said.
“That’s fair,” Ben said. “Llama teeth are sort of ugly, aren’t they?”
Sky nodded into my shoulder.
“It wouldn’t be a good idea to put our fingers in their mouth, but those teeth aren’t nearly as sharp as Nugget’s or Milo’s or Sprocket’s. Are you scared of the dogs’ teeth?”
She nodded again.
“But you’re not scared of the dogs, are you?” he asked.
Nugget wandered into the kitchen as if she’d heard her name. Xavier turned his attention to the dog, hugging her as if she too had been concerned about our girl.
Skyler lifted her head to watch Nugget, interest sparking in her eyes. “No, Nugget loves me.”
“The llamas will love you too as soon as they get to know you,” Ben said.
“I don’t want to,” Sky told him.
“That’s okay too,” he said. “Whatever it takes to make you feel safe here. We’d never let anything happen to you.”
I slammed my brain down on the thought that something so easily could’ve happened to her this afternoon, pulling her in closer still.
“I’m hungry, Mommy,” Skyler said.
My laughter was semihysterical, the laughter of release. My little girl had flipped from life emergency to status quo in the blink of an eye.
Grandma Berty came in with the other kids in tow. “How about some hot cocoa for everyone?”
Skyler perked up instantly. “Can we have lots and lots of marshmallows?”
“We might be able to have a few extra marshmallows,” Berty said, winking at me.
Skyler wiggled to get down, then jumped up and down as if it was just another day and she hadn’t scared me to within an inch of my life less than an hour ago. Thank God for the resilience of kids. It would take me a little longer to recover.
Berty involved all four kids in cocoa making, with Skyler in charge of the marshmallows.
Ben and I stood out of the way, watching the controlled chaos.
“Hot cocoa makes everything better,” he said, and the kids all heartily agreed.
Though I was relieved the kids seemed to be bouncing back from the situation, I had to force my smile.
Hot cocoa couldn’t begin to make me feel better. Not even if I added a double shot of liquor to it.