Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Ryan walked up the stairs of his childhood home, each creak and groan as familiar to him as his own heartbeat. He moved silently along the corridor to his daughter’s room. Eliza and Nat had two kids of their own now, and he’d promised not to wake them yet.
Tabitha and her cousin, Sean, had to get up for school and kindergarten soon anyway, but he wanted to steal a moment.
Moments were all he had.
He stopped at her door, the same room she’d had since she’d been brought home from the hospital, closer to Nat’s than his own because he’d been dealing with Becky’s rapid decline from the cancer that had riddled her body.
She’d lived long enough to give birth, which had been a miracle he hadn’t appreciated at the time.
To say he’d been angry was an understatement.
His mom had been dealing with her own grief after the loss of his father—they all had—plus, she’d had her own health issues. His twin, Sarah, had been in medical school but helped out every spare moment. Nat had pretty much run the ranch and raised a baby.
Ryan…
He’d been useless.
An anchor around their necks that had dragged them down, exacerbated their grief and the awfulness of the situation, as if he were the only person in the world who’d ever loved someone and lost. He hadn’t cared if he’d lived or died after Becky passed and certainly hadn’t wanted anything to do with his child.
His brother was Tabitha’s father in every way that counted, and he was so grateful to Nat, Eliza, Sarah, and Cal, who’d lavished her with all the love she deserved, love that he hadn’t been capable of at the time.
He eased open the door and stepped inside.
The room was dark from blackout blinds, but had white walls and posters of Taylor Swift and people he didn’t recognize, as well as pictures of horses everywhere.
Framed images of him and Becky, him and Tabby, sat on the dresser, surrounded by fiddly little toys and her mom’s old jewelry box.
It was a throat punch to see that wooden box sitting there.
Red and white gingham curtains matched the bedspread.
A rocking chair sat in the corner with a cross-stitched cushion on it.
Becky’s rocking chair, where she’d sat when pregnant, waiting for their baby to arrive, cross-stitching that cushion that had replaced her after the cancer had spread to her lungs, her liver.
Her refusal to get treatment until Tabitha was born was the only time they’d ever argued. Ryan regretted that every day of his life.
Tabitha slept on her back with her arm flung above her head, long blonde hair loose on the pillow.
Mouth open. Skin flushed with warmth. He smiled a little, both happy and sad she hadn’t inherited Becky’s nut-brown hair or petite size.
Her features were all Becky though, even if her height was all Sullivan.
She’d grown again since he’d seen her over the holidays.
She was going to break a few hearts someday. She’d already broken his more times than he cared to think about.
Or he’d broken his own. A wave upon a rock.
He was a weak man, full of flaws, but he’d eventually managed to pull himself back from the abyss.
He wasn’t sure he could survive that degree of loss ever again, and that was why he was careful not to risk his heart again.
And if another woman’s face popped inconveniently into his mind right then, that was his little secret and his problem to deal with.
He took a few steps forward, crouched down, and reached out to stroke Tabby’s hair.
Her eyes fluttered open, and her mouth morphed into a surprised smile of joy. She flung her arms around his neck and squealed. “Daddy!”
“Hush, now, hush.” He hugged her tight as emotion filled him. “Aunt Eliza will have my hide if you wake Jake or Sean.”
She pulled away. Whispered. “What are you doing here?”
He glanced at the black tactical pants and shirt he wore. A few hours ago he’d been in Virginia. Being here felt like a dream. “Work. We have a missing child from nearby, and I suggested we stay here at the ranch while we try to find her—”
“Who’s missing?”
Shit. He hadn’t really thought about it, but it was likely Tabitha was at school with the kid.
“You can’t talk about this to your friends, okay?
But I trust you to keep it to yourself.” It would be all over the news soon anyway and would spread around the school like proverbial wildfire. “It’s a girl called Summer Eastman.”
Her eyes grew huge. “I know her. She’s in third grade. Is she gonna be okay?”
“That’s the hope, Tab.”
She nodded, her expression grave. “You’ll find her.”
His heart stumbled.
Then she grabbed his hands. “Will you be here later?”
Shit. “I don’t know exactly.”
Her disappointment sent another fissure through his heart. “Whenever I get the chance, I’ll come see you. Maybe introduce you to my boss and some of the people I work with?”
Her smile was like the sun coming out. “Do I have to go to school?”
“Your aunt and uncle would skin me alive if you don’t.”
Her lips canted into an uneven line that was more a grin than a pout. She adored school. “If the others hear about Summer, can I say you’re helping to look for her?”
“No names and no mention of FBI or HRT,” he warned. “Stick to ‘my dad is in law enforcement’ and then, sure.”
Her mouth formed a frown. “Why can’t I say you work for the FBI? Are you a spy?” Her eyes lit up with excitement.
He shook his head. She was a live wire. “Nothing like that.” He tried to be honest with her about things when he could.
“The higher-ups don’t like anyone to mention they work for the FBI because it potentially puts people in danger, and the last thing I want is to bring the family to a bad guy’s attention.
” Especially after everything his sister-in-law, Eliza, had endured.
“Okay.” She shoved the covers back. She was wearing the pjs he’d given her for Christmas that were covered in unicorns and rainbows.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting up.”
He opened his mouth to tell her he had work and to go back to sleep but decided fuck it. “Want pancakes?”
“Yes! My favorite!”
He knew it. “Okay, you get dressed, quietly, and I’ll make pancakes.”
She threw her arms around his neck and clung like a monkey. “I love you, Daddy.”
Emotions threatened to choke him, but he forced them back. “I love you too, baby. More than you know.”
“Papa, I’m tired.”
“Almost there, sweetheart.” He ground the words out, then pushed ahead, knowing they needed to reach his goal before the snow became too deep and they both froze to death on the mountainside.
Summer had struggled more than he’d expected. He’d thought she’d be stronger and tougher than this, but perhaps there was more of her mother in her than he’d wanted to acknowledge.
Trapper panted despite the temperature. He’d bought the dog a fleece-lined waterproof coat even though he’d never worn one in his life.
Glenn didn’t know what conditions they were going to encounter or how long they’d be out here.
What he did know was the local cops and sheriff’s deputies would never find him. Nor the FBI.
Not that the Feds would waste weeks and months of resources on a wilderness search—not for a parental kidnapping.
They’d wait it out.
Wait for him to go back to civilization.
Ha. They’d be waiting a long time.
Unwilling to risk injury in the dark, he and Summer and the dog had rested, huddled together out of the wind, in survival bags with a thick wool blanket over them. Summer had hand warmers in her gloves and good thick socks inside her winter boots.
The blanket was heavy in his massive backpack, but worth it in terms of their survival. He had more supplies in the mountains that would allow them to move more easily. They just had to reach them.
He glanced behind him. The girl was lagging again.
“Keep up.” He forced some lightness into his tone. “I don’t want to lose you to the wolves, now do I?”
Summer’s eyes grew huge, and she stumbled forward to catch up.
Her nose was red, and she sniffled. “I’m hungry.”
Fuck.
He stopped, rifled through the side pocket for a protein bar. Unwrapped it before handing it to her. He carefully put the wrapper back in the pack. He didn’t intend to leave any trace of them behind.
No one had seen them on the trail. He’d hidden in the trees and watched the hiker with her black Lab. Made Trapper shut his stupid snout.
Good thing too. Glenn didn’t want to have to hurt anyone else—especially not in front of Summer.
“We’ll have some nice warm soup when we get where we’re going.”
Her blue eyes were red-rimmed. “I don’t like soup.”
Anger heated his chest, but he bit back the words he wanted to snap. “Then you’ll go hungry, won’t you?”
He turned away and hunched down out of the wind that was gaining in strength.
The sound of her boots scuffing the ground made his teeth grind together. “Pick your feet up. You’re making it ten times harder on yourself and slowing us down.”
Not to mention wearing out good boots.
She sniffled again but jogged to catch up, speaking through bites of the protein bar. “I don’t want to go camping, Papa. I’m cold.”
He turned and grabbed her arm, shoved her in front of him.
“You’re weak. Just like your mother. Never had to struggle or work for a damned thing.
” No, he’d paid for everything with his blood, sweat, and grit.
“Life isn’t all pop songs and dollies, girl.
I’m going to teach you how to survive in the wild. Real skills. Don’t you want that?”
Her mouth turned mutinous as a tear tipped down her cheek. “I want my mommy.”
The words stung.
After everything he’d sacrificed for this girl… “Well, mommy isn’t here, is she? She’s off with her boyfriend—”
“You said she was visiting Grandma.”
“I said that to make you feel better. She’s with Doug. On a beach in Mexico.”
The look on her face was pure betrayal. “She said she’d take me to the beach with her!”
Glenn smiled. “She lied. Instead, you’re stuck with your old man.” He softened his tone. “I promise once we get where we’re going, I’ll build a fire, and we’ll get warm and out of this snow. Another hour at most—”
“An hour?”
“Whining won’t get us there any faster. Only moving your lazy ass will do that.”
“I’m not lazy or weak. I’m just tired and cold.” Her lip wobbled.
The howl of a wolf rose mournfully in the distance, twisted eerily by the sinuous nature of the wind.
Summer’s eyes went huge as she rushed to him.
He squeezed her shoulder then pulled her in for a hug. “I won’t let anyone get you. Papas protect their babies.”
She shuddered under his embrace as the wolf’s howl rang out once more.
Then she pulled away, determination firming her jaw as she straightened her thin shoulders. “I’m ready now, Papa. I won’t slow you down. Just don’t let the wolves eat me.”