Chapter Nineteen
The first thing Rachel was aware of was an ache across the back of her shoulders and in her neck. She felt it before she had even opened her eyes, and her semiconscious mind struggled for an explanation.
She felt the cool, rough wood beneath her cheek. The kitchen table. She had put her head down, she suddenly recalled, too tired to sit up any longer but too worried for Mason to go to bed. She had permitted herself to close her eyes. She must have fallen asleep.
And now something warm was settling over her shoulders. She blinked and peered up.
Adam was standing over her. He had draped a blanket there, and for a moment, before he had realized she was awake, his hand came to rest on her shoulder. It was solid and warm and comforting, and the horror at the back of her mind was momentarily held at bay.
Then the full events of last night came crashing back.
She sat up, feeling the blanket slide off her shoulders. The sun was shining through the kitchen window. It was the kind of pale light that meant very early morning, but even so, the sun was up. She turned to face Adam. “Did Mason ever come home?”
Adam looked exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes, his skin was pale, and his hair was in disarray. He was still wearing yesterday’s clothes, and they were wrinkled.
She glanced across the table. The chair opposite hers had been pushed out. There was a half-drunk glass of water sitting in front of it. And she was suddenly sure that he had spent the night here in the kitchen too—right here at this table with her. Waiting for Mason.
“No.” His voice was tight. “He isn’t back. I’m about to go out looking again.”
“I’ll come with you.” She struggled to her feet.
“You’ve got to stay here, Rachel. Someone has to be at the house in case he comes back.”
Rachel was about to protest, to tell him that what they needed now was more searchers. But she was interrupted by a knock at the door.
Her heart leapt into her throat. The image that came to her at once was one of a sheriff with his hat in his hand, there to deliver bad news.
The world spun around her and she grabbed the edge of the table to steady herself, although a part of her wanted to simply succumb to unconsciousness.
She was so tired, and this news would hurt so terribly to hear. She didn’t want to hear it.
Adam, meanwhile, had had a completely different reaction. He had turned on his heel and started moving toward the door, and now he flung it open to see who was waiting on the other side.
For a moment, Rachel’s mind couldn’t process what she saw there.
It was Mason. His clothes were every bit as rumpled as Adam’s, and his hair was sticking straight up. He had lines on his cheek, as though he had slept on something textured.
She let out a cry, hurried toward him, and fell to her knees, flinging her arms around him.
“Mason! Are you hurt? Are you all right?” She leaned back to get a clearer look at him and ran her hands up and down his arms, feeling for broken bones and finding nothing. She pulled him in for another embrace.
“He was at the schoolhouse,” a familiar voice said.
She looked up.
She had been so relieved at the sight of Mason that she hadn’t even noticed the other person in the doorway.
It was Jennifer. Her tidiness made her stand out in a room full of bedraggled people—her blue dress was un-rumpled, her hair neat in its bun.
She held her hands awkwardly in front of her, palms running over the skirts of her dress.
“I found him there this morning,” Jennifer went on. She was speaking more quickly than usual, as if she felt there was something she needed to justify in what she was saying. “He slept on the floor under my desk.”
So the lines on his face had come from sleeping on the hardwood floor of the schoolhouse. Rachel raised a hand.
Mason flinched away from her. It pierced her heart.
“Mason,” she murmured, resting her fingers on his cheek, holding steady there until he relaxed. “Nobody is going to harm you,” she said. “You know that, don’t you? You know that we’d never hurt you?”
He stared at the floor, saying nothing.
“Mason,” Adam spoke up hoarsely.
Mason raised his head slightly. Rachel looked over her shoulder. Adam was standing a few feet behind her, one hand nervously pulling at the five o’clock shadow on his face. That was a nervous habit she had never seen before.
She got to her feet and backed away, toward the sink, sensing that Adam wanted to speak to Mason. Mason stood frozen, looking anywhere but at Adam, his whole body tense.
“Mason, I’m so sorry,” Adam said.
He didn’t move toward Mason. He stood very still, keeping both hands visible. Mason watched him warily, his weight shifted onto his back foot, as though he might decide to turn and run away at any moment.
“I know I frightened you,” Adam said. “I know I made you think you were in danger here. I yelled at you, and I shouldn’t have done that.
I was angry. But I was never so angry that we couldn’t have worked it out between us.
I never intended to suggest that this wasn’t your home.
It is, and it always will be. That’s a promise. ”
Mason was hesitant. He looked over his shoulder at Jennifer, and then at Rachel. Rachel gave him an encouraging nod, but she didn’t speak. He and Adam needed to work this out between the two of them, without any help from her.
“I didn’t mean to leave the pan on the stove,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Of course you didn’t.” Adam took a step closer to him.
“I know that. I knew that at the time. I shouldn’t have shouted at you the way I did.
I should have taken a moment to think first, because it was just an accident, and I knew it.
And I’m so sorry. You must promise me you’ll never run off like that again, though, Mason. We were all so worried about you.”
Mason bit his lip. “I promise,” he murmured, hanging his head.
“You know that everyone here cares for you, don’t you?
” Adam asked. “You know you’re family to me.
There is nothing you could do that would ever change that.
” He closed the distance and rested his hands on Mason’s shoulders.
“I’ll never do anything to hurt you, Mason, and I’ll never break your trust.”
Tears spilled down Mason’s cheeks. “I’m sorry I almost burned down the house, Adam.”
“No harm was done.” Adam pulled the boy into an embrace.
Rachel’s heart was so warmed by watching them that the misery and fear of the past twelve hours seemed to melt away as if it had never happened. She couldn’t help smiling. “We should eat,” she said. “You must be hungry, Mason. “And, Jennifer—come in and have breakfast with us, please.”
Her stepsister lingered in the doorway. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“Nonsense.” Adam gave Mason a gentle push toward the sink to wash up and faced Jennifer. “We’re indebted to you, Miss Foster, for bringing Mason home to us. I insist that you stay.”
“I’ll make pancakes,” Rachel said happily, moving to the cupboard for a mixing bowl. “Mason’s favorite. It’s a celebration.”
Mason finished washing his hands and took his seat at the table. He was quiet, his head down. Adam guided Jennifer to a seat. “Can I help you with the breakfast, Rachel?” he asked, resting a hand briefly on Mason’s shoulder.
Ordinarily, Rachel would have cheerfully turned the offer down. But the night they had spent together worrying for Mason had broken down some invisible barrier. “You could start the coffee,” she said to him.
He nodded and took the beans down from the cupboard.
Rachel broke eggs into her bowl. “Jennifer,” she said as she began to mix the ingredients for the batter together, “are we making you late for school? Mason will stay home today, I think…” She glanced at Adam, and he nodded.
“But it’s Monday,” she continued. “I know that you have to teach, and even though I’m very glad you’re here with us, I don’t want to disrupt you. ”
“No, it’s all right,” Jennifer said. “When I found Mason, I stopped by the church and asked Pastor William to go to the school for me. He’s going to manage the classroom for the morning, and I’ll go back at lunch.”
Rachel turned to face her, the mixing spoon stilling in her hand for a moment. “That was incredibly thoughtful of you,” she said. “Going out of your way to bring him back, disrupting your day that way…I really can’t thank you enough, Jennifer. Truly.”
“You did a favor for me,” Jennifer said quietly, gripping her hands together.
“You helped me when you were under no obligation to do that. I’m grateful to you.
And…and I care about my students.” She lifted her chin a bit defiantly, as if thinking someone was going to argue.
“I wanted to see Mason safely home. He matters to me.”
“I think you ought to have the pastor take over for the whole day,” Adam commented. “You should take the day off. We’d like to talk to you a bit more, if you would be willing.”
Jennifer’s head darted up like a bird’s. “Talk to me?”
“Nothing bad,” Adam assured her, filling the kettle with water. He moved over and placed it on the stove. “I just thought it would be nice if we could discuss Mason’s progress in school. I know you spoke to Rachel about it a little bit, but I would certainly like to know more.”
Jennifer bit her lip and looked down again.
Rachel had never seen her stepsister lacking in confidence in this way. “I’m grateful you’re the one teaching him,” she said, trying to sound warm. “Especially today. I’m grateful that it was you who found him. And I’m sure he’s blossoming under your hand.”
“What I’d really like to know,” Adam said, turning to lean back against the counter as he waited for the water to boil, “is whether there’s going to be any more talk of expulsion.
I would like to think that everyone is willing to give Mason a chance to right the ship.
I don’t want to see him lose his place in the school.
And after seeing you bring him here today, Miss Foster, and hearing you say that you care for your students, I think I can count on you to support him. Am I right?”
“Yes,” Jennifer said. Her voice was quieter than it usually was. “You’re right. I care very much for what happens to Mason.”
“Thank you, Jennifer,” Rachel said sincerely.
“But I do need to return to school today,” she said. “In fact…I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t be away right now. Maybe I should be there.”
“Why?” Rachel frowned. She pulled out the pan and poured in enough batter for the first pancake. “You said Pastor William was handling things until this afternoon, so you should be just fine to stay here with us, right?”
“I don’t know.” She gripped her hands together tightly and then released them. She looked at the door, and then at the clock on the wall. “I don’t know…what might be happening there. Who might come by.”
“Come by?” Rachel frowned. She set the pan on the stove and turned back to Jennifer. “Why would someone come by?”
Jennifer looked down again and said nothing.
And a memory came to Rachel. Someone had come by. Someone whose presence would account for why Jennifer was acting this way. “Are you talking about that man who was there the last time I came to the schoolhouse?” she asked. “Mr. Levine? Is he still coming around?”
At the sound of the name, Adam’s shoulders stiffened and his head jerked up.
He didn’t speak. He didn’t even move, beyond those shows of tension. His gaze fixed on the wall, as if he was intentionally looking at nobody in particular.
Something is wrong. Something about that name bothered him.
Rachel desperately wanted to know what it was. But she couldn’t ask, not right in front of Jennifer. Jennifer’s cheeks were bright red—she too had been affected by the mention of Mr. Levine. That was exactly who she was expecting to drop by the school—it was obvious.
He’s still bothering her! After the way he behaved toward me right in front of her!
There was nothing to say about it right now.
It was plain that neither Adam nor Jennifer was willing to discuss the matter.
Rachel turned back to her pancakes and focused on their preparation, transferring them one by one to a serving platter as they were ready.
Adam finished the coffee and poured it into mugs, and they brought everything over to the table and sat down.
Breakfast was friendly, but the awkward tension filled the air the whole time they ate.
Even Mason noticed, looking from one adult to the next with a frown on his face.
Before her cup was empty or her plate was cleared, she was rising to her feet and thanking them for the meal without looking at either one of them.
“I’ll see Mason back in school tomorrow,” she said, moving toward the door.
And Rachel ached to say something, knew that something needed to be said to keep her stepsister from making a mistake she might regret.
Her unease churned in the pit of her stomach.
But she couldn’t put her finger on quite what that mistake might be.
So all she said as Jennifer left was, “Thank you again.”