Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
The glow faded from Zinnia’s eyes. “I’d better go.”
Monty opened his mouth to protest. Closed it again. “Okay.”
When she left the bed, so did he. Putting on his sweats while she put on her nightgown, he walked her to the door and opened it for her. “Take care.”
“You, too.” She didn’t look at him. Likely she was crying.
Damned if he wasn’t fighting tears, too. He closed the door and stood there with his hand on the knob, his body cold and stiff, as if he was incased in a block of ice.
She didn’t start the truck right away. For one crazy second he thought she might come back. Then the engine sputtered to life.
He didn’t move until the sound of the truck was completely gone. Going back to the bed wasn’t an option, so he dropped down into the closest easy chair. He was still there when the birds woke him in the morning.
Over the next few days, he kidded himself that he looked and acted completely normal. Whenever a member of his family approached him, he met them with a big smile and talked about the weather.
So far nobody had tried to break through the invisible fence he’d erected, and he was grateful. He needed time, and they were honoring that.
He briefly considered talking things out with Adam. In the end he couldn’t see the point in baring his soul when it was still bleeding.
He’d convinced Zinnia to give up on him for her own good. He’d count that as a victory and move on. Somehow.
Staying busy kept her out of his head during the day, but the nights were hell. He’d forced himself to sleep in his bed because the chair was doing a number on his spine.
Although his back pain went away, Zinnia filled his dreams and he’d wake up with a hole in his heart he could drive a truck through. But he’d saved her, saved her and Tex. That was all that mattered.
At the two-week mark, not that he was counting, he woke in the pre-dawn hours with a start. Something wasn’t right. Lying in the dark, he listened for what might have broken into his sleep.
Nothing out of the ordinary. Crickets chirped and an owl hooted in the distance. Then his phone rang. Zinnia.
His heart pounding, he answered. “Are you okay?”
“Tex is gone.” She was breathing fast. “I think he went to find you.”
“Dear God. I’m on my way.” Leaping out of bed, he laid the phone down as he threw on his clothes. “How long has he—”
“Not sure. He took brownies.” She gulped. “We’ve been driving the road, calling out, but he—I th-think he’s h-hiding.” Her voice shook.
He clamped down on his own terror so he wouldn’t add to hers. “Why?”
“Brownies. He wants to s-surprise you with brownies.”
“Hang tight. We’ll find him.” He started to disconnect, then paused. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. Hurry.”
“I will.” He called Adam. “Tex apparently decided to set out alone to bring me brownies. I’m going over there to—”
“No, we’re going. I’ll drive. You get Zinnia back on the line so we can coordinate our efforts.”
“Great idea. I’ll be right over.” On his way out the door he grabbed a first-aid kit from the bathroom, a blanket from the hall closet and his handheld spotlight. No telling what that little guy had gotten himself into.
But he’d be fine. Had to be fine. He wouldn’t let himself imagine any other outcome.
As he ran toward Adam and Tracy’s cabin, his mom and Greta came out of the main house pulling on sweatshirts.
“We’re going,” Greta said.
“How did—”
“Adam sent a group text while he was talking to you.”
“I’ll be damned.”
“We’re taking our truck, too,” Luis called out as he and Jordan emerged from their casita. “Rio and Zay are with us. Mila’s bringing everybody else in the van. The more people we have, the better our chances of finding him.”
“Can’t argue with that!” His voice sounded a little froggy. His throat had a boulder-sized lump in it. The Bridger Bunch had gathered.
He took the front passenger seat while Tracy, Greta and his mom sat in back. Once they were on their way, he called Zinnia.
She answered immediately. “Still no luck.” Her voice was tight with fear. “I just know he’s out there determined to get to you before we get to him. He’s such a st-stubborn little c-cuss.”
His chest ached. She was trying so hard not to lose it. “Help is on the way. I’m in Adam’s truck with my mom, Tracy and Greta. Luis is behind us with Jordan, Zay and Rio. Mila’s bringing everyone else in the van.”
There was a choked sound on the other end. “They all…” Then came a loud sniff and a deep exhale. “Tell them…tell them…thank you.”
“You’re welcome!” Greta, Tracy and his mom sang out in unison.
“They figured more people looking would be—”
“It’s brilliant.” She took a shaky breath. “He loves all of you. He’ll come out for sure. Should we stop calling to him?”
“Maybe.” He glanced at Adam, who nodded. “Yeah, why not try that. We just went through the front gate. I doubt he got this far.”
“I’m sure not. But he might have made it to the main road.” She sounded slightly calmer.
He had his family to thank for that. “At least there’s no traffic at this time.” He chose not to give voice to what else could be out there.
“Right. Let me talk to Mari and my uncle for a sec.” After some murmuring in the background, she came back. “We’ve decided to drive back home and let your caravan take it from here.”
“Okay. But stay on the phone.”
“Oh, you know it. You’re my lifeline right now.”
Her words punched him right in the gut. He must have let out a little gasp because Adam gave him a look.
Then his big brother pulled out his phone and called Luis. “I’ll set the pace, amigo. We’ll roll down our windows and take turns calling for Tex. Identify yourselves when you call out so he knows it’s us. Pass that word to Mila. If anybody hears or sees anything, give a holler.”
What followed reminded Monty of a weird nighttime version of the Fourth of July parade. Except it was being staged for one small spectator. At Adam’s suggestion, he took more turns than anyone.
If the circumstances weren’t so scary, he’d get a kick out of the various bribes his family came up with. Auntie Ezzie offered to teach him new cha-cha steps. Rio said he could sit in his lap and steer the Gator.
Greta promised sticky buns and his mom dangled a trip to the attic where the toys were stored. Cole said he could flip the switch to start the Beaver Bunch show. Claudie invited him to look over her supply of colored tape. No response. The woods on either side of the road were dark and still.
About fifty yards from the turnoff to Graham’s road, Adam pointed to him and he launched into his spiel.
“Hey, sport, it’s Mister Monty!” He worked hard to make his voice sound jovial. Wasn’t easy when the spotlight he swept over the bushes and trees sometimes reflected a pair of glowing eyes.
Instead of going for a bribe, he zeroed in on what Zinnia thought Tex wanted out of this escapade. “I hear you have a surprise for me. Can’t wait to see what it is!”
Something rustled in the bushes. Could be a critter.
He murmured to Adam, who stopped the truck. Instead of pointing the spotlight right at the bush, he directed it toward the shoulder of the road. Didn’t want to blind the kid if it was him.
Tex walked out holding Smokey under his arm and a well-taped package in his other hand. Looked like he’d chosen cowboy-themed paper to wrap the brownies. His hat was on crooked and he was smudged with dirt everywhere — face, arms, T-shirt and jeans.
Giddy with relief, he reached for the door hand. Joy surged through him, pushing away the fog that had clouded his thinking for days.
How had he missed the obvious? His dad had been a solo act. Adam was not. More important, he was not. Instead of dashing off on his own, he’d called Adam. Adam had called the Bridger Bunch. None of them had to do it all.
So why was he fighting his love for Zinnia and Tex when he had a whole team behind him? Only an idiot would do that, and his dad hadn’t raised an idiot.
He stepped out of the truck. “Zinnia, I’ve got him. I’ve got Tex.”