Chapter 30
Jenna and Luke moved deeper into the woods, the light thinning as the canopy closed overhead. The scent of dead leaves and wet bark rose to meet them.
As the path narrowed, Jenna stayed close behind Luke, her eyes moving across the ground. She scanned the spaces between the trees and the shadows that gathered in the low places where the terrain dipped.
She called Liam’s name again.
Nothing.
Luke stopped and listened.
“Luke.” She hadn’t wanted to say her thought aloud. Hadn’t wanted to put voice into and release it into reality. But she had no choice. “What if Liam didn’t come out here on his own?”
He turned toward her, his expression guarded. “He went over the fence.”
“I know.” She chose her next words carefully. “But what if someone was already out here? What if he was followed, or—” She stopped herself. “I just think we shouldn’t rule it out.”
“He’s eight years old, and his life has been turned upside down.” Luke’s jaw tightened. “He came out here because he needed space. I know my son.”
She flinched at his use of “my son.” The words hurt.
Was that what Luke had intended?
She wasn’t sure.
They kept moving.
The path curved left and descended, the ground going soft beneath their feet. Jenna watched her footing and tried not to let her fear grow larger.
This was her fault.
The thought had been sitting at the edge of her mind since she’d stood in that doorway and counted heads and come up one short. She’d known since breakfast that Liam was struggling with her reappearance. She’d seen it and told herself to give him time.
Now he was somewhere in these woods, possibly lost, possibly running away, possibly taken.
She should have tried harder this morning. She should have found a way to reach him that didn’t depend on him being ready. She should never have come back without a better plan for how to handle exactly this.
She should have—
“Jenna.”
She looked up.
Luke had stopped on the path. He turned toward her, something shifting in his expression. His resistance was gone, replaced by something quieter and more direct.
He reached out and took her by both arms. His grip wasn’t tight but just enough to hold her attention.
She went still.
His eyes met hers. “Stop blaming yourself.”
She opened her mouth to argue but couldn’t.
“I mean it. It’s written all over your face.” He held her gaze. “Liam is upset because this situation is hard, not because you did something wrong this morning. You can’t fix two years of complicated in a single breakfast.”
She looked at him—at the steadiness in his face, the careful honesty of his words. Something loosened in her chest.
“Okay,” she murmured.
He held her gaze another beat, making sure she’d actually heard him. Then he released her arms and turned back to the path.
She exhaled and followed. The only thing that mattered right now was finding Liam. Everything else could wait.
They walked another hundred feet in silence. The path flattened out again and widened slightly where the trees thinned near a shallow ridge.
Luke slowed and crouched, and Jenna almost walked into him before she caught herself.
She looked down.
The ground here was soft—darker soil, still damp from yesterday’s rain, sheltered enough by the canopy that it hadn’t dried out. The dirt cleanly held impressions.
Two sets of footprints stretched there.
The first were small with a faint, smudged tread.
Liam.
The second set were larger. Boots, deep-treaded, the impressions crisp and deliberate.
An adult. A man, from the size of them, and not a small one.
The stride was measured and even.
This wasn’t someone who’d been running or who’d been startled into motion.
This was someone who’d been walking with purpose.
Someone was with Liam, she realized.
Her head spun as fear swept over her.
Luke stood and looked up the path where both sets of prints continued into an area of heavier growth. The boot prints tracked alongside Liam’s, not behind them. Alongside. Like someone who had fallen into step with him rather than followed from a distance.
He grabbed his phone and called Caleb.
His brother picked up on the second ring. “Anything?”
“We found prints.” Luke kept his voice calm, despite the panic rippling inside him. “South path, past the ridge. Liam’s. There’s an adult male alongside his. Deep tread, large boot, steady stride.” He paused. “Someone was with him.”
A beat of silence. “I’m coming to you.”
“No. Keep searching your section in case I’m wrong. I need the ground covered.” He looked up the path. “Call Micah. Tell him we need him out here now.”
“Done.” Caleb’s voice had dropped to something quiet and hard. “Luke—”
“I know.” He ended the call before his brother could say the thing neither of them wanted said out loud.
He thought about Wyatt. His brother wasn’t on the property today. But his search and rescue dog Thunder was trained and certified. One text and Wyatt would be in his truck.
He pulled his phone back out and sent it.
Need Thunder. South woods at Refuge Cove. Come fast. Liam’s missing.
The reply came in under a minute.
On my way.
Luke turned back to the path.
The prints continued ahead, pressed clean into the soft earth.
He followed them with his eyes as far as the terrain allowed. Then the ground rose and the path bent.
Whoever had left those boot prints knew how to move. The stride was even, the spacing consistent. They belonged to someone who knew where he was going.
Luke began to move faster.
He tracked the prints, keeping to the edge of the path to preserve what was there. He watched the ground and the spaces between the trees in equal measure. Behind him he heard Jenna keeping pace, her breathing controlled, and her footfalls deliberate.
She was scared. He heard it in her silence.
Truthfully, Luke was scared also.
He didn’t let himself dwell on it. Fear had its place and time, and right now wasn’t it. Right now there were prints to follow and ground to cover and his eight-year-old son somewhere ahead of him in these woods.
Liam . . .
He’d taught his son about these woods. Had walked this path with him a dozen times, had shown him where the creek crossed and where the old fence ran and what poison ivy looked like.
He’d told him what to do if he ever got turned around.
Told him that he should stay put, make noise, wait for someone to come.
Would those skills come in handy now?
The terrain dropped slightly, and the path narrowed again. The roots pushed up through the soil in long, knotted ridges. Luke stepped over them without slowing.
Behind him came a sharp intake of breath—then a thud, the unmistakable sound of someone meeting the ground hard.
He turned.
Jenna was on one knee in the dirt. One of her hands was braced against the path, the other waving him off.
“I’m fine.” She was already pushing herself up.
“I can see that.” He reached for her arm anyway
She straightened, her legs wobbly.
When she looked at him, the careful composure she’d been holding all morning disappeared.
Her eyes went bright with tears she refused to release. Her jaw looked hard, the way it got when she tried not to fall apart.
The thought of it caused his heart to thud as memories overtook him.
Without thinking, Luke pulled her toward him.
She went still for a fraction of a second. Then her arms came around him, and she pressed her face against his chest.
He held on, and neither of them said anything.
He’d thought hugging Jenna again would feel strange. He’d convinced himself that too much between them had changed. That the distance between who they’d been and who they were now was too wide to step across without feeling every inch of it.
Right now, holding her didn’t feel strange.
It felt like the most familiar thing he’d done in months.
He felt her chest rise and fall. Rise and fall. Slower. Slower. Slower.
Finally, he loosened his hold. She stepped back, and their gazes locked.
“Liam is okay,” Luke murmured. “We’re going to find him.”
Jenna nodded and pressed her lips together.
He looked at her a second too long. Two years of not knowing where she was, whether she was alive, whether she’d chosen to leave or been taken . . .
And now she was right here. She was close enough to touch. Their son was missing in the woods.
None of this felt real.
What he wanted to do was pull her in and hold on until the world made sense again.
He didn’t.
He turned back to the path instead, his throat burning with emotion.
He found the prints again and moved forward. Jenna fell into step behind him.
The woods had gone quiet in a way that felt deliberate. No birds. No wind moving through the canopy. Just the soft give of leaf litter underfoot and the flat gray light pressing down through the branches.
“Liam!” Luke kept his voice even, carrying but not panicked.
Nothing.
“Liam!” Jenna called.
More silence pressed back.
Luke stopped and listened.
Then he heard it.
A footstep. Somewhere ahead, in the heavier growth where the light didn’t reach.