No, she couldn’t let guilt overcome her. Remaining strong for Teresa was her top priority. Since her chair was occupied, Mary sat down on the couch, placing her coffee on the side table. Glancing out the window, she looked at the stars. Oh, how she missed her dear William. She’d relied on him for his strength, his love. But sometimes, when she thought back to the days she’d spent with him, she could swear he was right here. Still by her side.
Exhaustion won the battle against Mary. Within minutes, sleep consumed her.
* * *
Feeling refreshed, Tom entered the living room holding two cups of coffee. “I made some fresh java this morning.” At his announcement, Mary stirred. Handing her a mug, he sat beside her on the couch.
“Any news?”
“Well, given the position Peter’s father holds, we can’t count on the police in Green Valley, so I’ve hired a private investigator to watch his house and his local hangouts. But so far, no sign of him or Emma.”
CHAPTER SIX
Another seventy-two hours passed with no word on Emma’s whereabouts. The desperate mother’s dreams of finding her daughter diminished. Believing Peter wouldn’t hurt his daughter—neglect, maybe, but not hurt—was little comfort to Teresa. Worries devoured her…what about Emma’s asthma? Although her condition was mild, she could have an attack. Would Peter remember her inhaler? More importantly, would he carry her to the hospital or to a doctor if she needed one?
No, Teresa couldn’t let her mind go there. Staying focused was her top priority.
“Now, now. Don’t allow those fears to overwhelm you.” Mary sat beside Teresa and looped her arm around her.
“It’s so hard.” With a sigh, Teresa laid her head on Mary’s shoulder. Her newly discovered stepmother seemed to know just what she needed at that moment. Being held and comforted revived Teresa, and gave her the strength to face another day.
Each morning brought with it the disappointment of not finding Emma. The house slowly emptied of strangers as most people moved on to more pressing matters. Emma wasn’t to be found. The effort to find the little girl now consisted of Tom, along with a few volunteers who handed out flyers with Emma’s picture. Tom had taken a leave of absence to concentrate on the search and while the FBI was still on the case, their assistance came from their offices.
As the days passed, Teresa and Mary tried to resume some sort of existence. They started attending church again, which broke their hearts because Emma had loved going to Sunday school.
Eventually, Tom returned to his job, but he always was close by. The sheriff tried so hard to be available to Teresa, while still faithful to his duties to the people of the county. Teresa had come to rely on Tom’s appearance at the house every night, and his kindness and caring, keeping her company as a true friend would. Just having him around comforted Teresa.
* * *
Thanksgiving approached without respect for the circumstances. Mary was not ready to celebrate the holiday with Emma gone, and she was almost positive that Teresa would not. The young mother had become withdrawn, and Mary could not blame her. At times, a little of the old Teresa shined through, but mostly not.
Tom invited Mary and Teresa to his parent’s house for Thanksgiving. Though it was sweet of him, they politely declined. Instead, they chose to spend the day in prayer for Emma, and to dedicate their time to something positive. After much discussion, they decided to go to the local food bank and serve a meal. When he heard about it, Tom offered to help, but they insisted he continue with his family plans.
They returned around three that afternoon, tired from the work but revived from the spirit of spreading God’s goodness.
* * *
A few weeks later, Mary convinced a reluctant Teresa to go on a hike through the woods. Fresh air and exercise did a body good, and Mary had noticed Teresa wasn’t sleeping well. They walked for almost an hour when they spotted smoke curling up from the mountain. That was her land. Unease snaked through Mary at the idea of someone starting a campfire on her property, but with each passing minute darkness overtook the sky. By the time the two reached the yard, night settled over the farm with a strange eeriness.
Mary’s skin crawled as she walked into the house. Immediately, she stopped Teresa from entering further. “Something’s wrong.”
Snatching up the fire poker, Mary clutched the device in her hands and proceeded into the kitchen. The refrigerator door hung ajar, as well as the pantry.
“Someone’s been here!”
“Peter? Is that you?” Teresa bolted past her and down the hall, throwing open doors along the way. “Emma! Emma!”
All fell quiet as Teresa reached the bedroom. Her sudden stillness pierced Mary’s heart. “Teresa?”
“Her jacket is gone.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Emma’s jacket. I folded it and placed it here on the dresser. It’s gone.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes!”
“I’m calling Tom.” Mary bolted into the living room and picked up the cordless phone.
The sheriff arrived within thirty minutes, along with several other deputies. With bright flashlights and their headlights shining through the yard, the deputies searched the outside perimeter to the best of their ability. Tire tracks were discovered in the mud, and prints cast. What surprised the authorities most was the stolen items—a kid’s jacket and food.
CHAPTER SEVEN
As the morning light shined through the picture windows in the house, Tom resumed his desperate search outside Mary’s home. Surely, hindered by the night, he and his deputies missed something.
He was in deep thought as he explored each nook and cranny. He tracked the tire marks until they were no longer visible, only to notice they led in the direction of the old logging road. As he backtracked along the ruts to the farm, Tom debated if Peter was their intruder. Why would he still be around this area when he knew everyone was looking for him? Why return? Finally, he reached the end of the tire marks behind Mary’s house, where he believed they parked and left the truck. Taking a stick, he moved the grass back and forth as he walked the most logical path leading to the kitchen door. As the stick glided, he heard a tiny clink. Bending down, he caressed the blades of green. Something reflected sunlight. He felt along the area, and to his surprise, found a butterfly necklace. Emma’s. His mind jolted back to the riding lessons he’d given her—he remembered her wearing it that day. How long could it have been here? Was the necklace lost before yesterday? It didn’t appear tarnished. Placing the jewelry in an evidence bag, he removed his hat and wiped his face. He crouched there, reluctant to approach Teresa. He resumed petting the grass, but turned up nothing else. Was he buying himself a little time before he questioned Teresa as to if Emma had been wearing the necklace the night she disappeared? Maybe. Teresa was fragile, and the discovery of this necklace could be something or nothing.
As he entered the house, Mary handed him a cup of coffee and led him to the table spread with a big breakfast of eggs, bacon, pancakes, and muffins. “Sit down and eat.”
Tom wasn’t in the mood, but he didn’t want to hurt Mary’s feelings. The other deputies soon joined him as well as Teresa.
Declining the food, Teresa finished her cup of coffee. She excused herself to take a shower. Mary looked Tom square in the eye. “You’re tense, you’re concerned, and it’s not just the break-in. Tell me what is going on.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Tom Anderson, I’m no fool, so don’t make me take you over my knee. Now spill what’s bothering you. Did you find out news about Emma? Is she okay?”
Tom raised his hand as if to calm Mary. “I don’t know anything further, except…I found this.” He pulled out the evidence bag and handed it to Mary.”
“It’s Emma’s. She was wearing it the night she disappeared, but I took it off her when I gave her a bath.”
“So she didn’t have it on when she was kidnapped?”
�
��No. She threw a fit that I slipped it off her. I put it on the dresser by her…” She gasped. “By her jacket. Tom, where did you find the necklace?”
“In the grass near the tire marks.”
“Why would anyone come and steal a cheap child’s necklace, especially when I had diamond earrings and a gold necklace in my jewelry box?” Mary hesitated. “Unless they were getting the items for a little girl.”
“Exactly.”
“Tom, on Thanksgiving Day, I persuaded Teresa to go on a walk with me and we spotted smoke spiraling up from the mountain. Figured it was hunters trespassing. I don’t know whether that could be relevant to Emma’s kidnapping, but—”
They were interrupted by Teresa’s return to the kitchen. Tom put his finger over his lips, telling Mary not to say anything about what they had just discussed.
“Y’all are quiet all of a sudden.” Freshly bathed, Teresa joined the discussion at the table.
The sheriff noticed how Teresa’s slightly damped hair curled around her face, how her skin appeared flawless and beautiful. “You take the words right out of my mouth, you’re so pretty.”
She blushed, and he was overwhelmed with the urge to lean across the table and kiss her.
What was he doing? Now was not the time to act like a lovesick schoolboy. Eyes trained on Teresa as she poured herself a cup of coffee, taking two scoops of sugar, he said, “Just discussing possibilities.”
“Mary, did you tell Tom about the fire we saw the other day?”
“Yes, she did. It was probably some hikers or hunters. I’ll check it out today, though.” Throwing Mary a quick glance for reassurance, he added, “We’ll leave no stone unturned, that I promise.”
Thankfully, Mary changed the subject. “Teresa, you should eat some breakfast.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You’re not eating enough to keep a bird alive.”
“I don’t have an appetite.” She buried her face into her hands. “I can’t seem to concentrate on anything but how much I need my baby girl back!”
Tom placed his arm around Teresa to provide her a measure of comfort, but he knew the only way to bring her real solace was to find Emma. Standing, he adjusted his gun belt and looked at Mary. “Mrs. Mary, would you mind packing me some food? Enough for a couple people, and a few meals.”
“Of course.” Without delay, Mary set to work assembling sandwiches.
Strolling to the car, Tom opened the trunk. After contacting the local tracker he used, a hunter named Huston Murray, he pulled out his rifle and shells. Grabbing his backpack that he kept in case of emergency, he stored the extra bullets in the front pocket. He briefed his deputy on the situation and left him there to handle any calls that came in.
Within an hour, Huston was at the farm with three horses, two for riding, and one that bore the burden of various supplies. Huston was a no-nonsense older gentleman who could have found D.B. Cooper himself if he’d been looking.
* * *
Mary delivered the meal items to Tom in a large paper sack. “Sandwiches, chips, water, and canned soup.”
“Thank you, Mary.” Tom placed the food in the backpack and hooked it to the horse’s saddle.
Mary and Huston’s gazes met. They had not spoken since an argument over who owned the maple tree that sat on their property border. Huston was determined to chop it down for firewood, but William insisted he had no right. Silly, considering the two were once friends. An upcoming court date would determine who had claim.
It was more Mary’s deceased husband than herself who’d engaged in the disagreement with Huston. If Huston found Emma, he could have the tree and whatever else he wanted.
Cautiously, Mary approached Huston as he was about to mount his horse. “May I have a moment?”
“Mrs. Mary,” he grunted. “How are you?”
“I’m fine, Huston. Thank you so much for helping us. I know William would be deeply grateful.”
Smiling, Huston said, “I miss that old goat. I’ve no one to argue with now. Don’t you worry, Mrs. Mary, I’ll do my best to find that little girl.”
“I know you will, Huston. You and Tom be careful, and you two don’t get lost.”
“Mrs. Mary, I’ve never been lost in all my life. Hopefully, next time you see us, we’ll have some good news.”
* * *
Teresa slammed the screen door shut and approached Tom. The way he refused to look her in the eyes worried her that Tom was keeping something from her, but she decided against asking. Maybe she didn’t want to know. Could a body have been found? No, I won’t go there.
Stay positive!
As Tom mounted his horse, he nodded at her. Her heart broke at the thought of him leaving. Tom’s once happy, smiling face—so cheerful when they first met—had been replaced with a serious, aged appearance now. Worry and apprehension had taken over all of their lives.
Placing his hat on his head, he said, “Don’t worry. We’ll back soon.”
He was followed by Huston, who quickly took the lead.
Walking up to Teresa, Mary slung a comforting arm around her. “Let’s just pray by this time tomorrow our little girl will be back.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
The two men searched the woods along the tire tracks that followed the old logging road until night fell. Tom pitched the tent while Huston gathered rocks and downed branches to build a fire. With the fire started, Tom pulled out two sandwiches. They both ate in silence and Huston also polished off some of the chips Mary had included. Tom’s appetite waned, but he forced himself to eat for strength. Finishing his sandwich, Tom retired to the tent. The earlier they woke, the better. If he didn’t find Emma tomorrow, he wouldn’t be able to face Teresa.
* * *
No sooner than Tom and Huston disappeared on the horizon, Teresa’s curiosity slammed into her full force. Her motherly instinct kicked in—hard—and Teresa grew determined to find out what they weren’t telling her.
Of course, Tom and Mary were trying to protect her, but she had her rights as the mother. Leaving for Arizona to look for Emma herself was an option Teresa had considered a lot recently. In truth, however, she knew that Peter was in hiding and she didn’t think he was in his hometown. Too obvious. He was much too cunning of a monster.
The screen door slammed behind Teresa as she followed Mary inside. “I’m not a child. I’m Emma’s mother. I know something is going on, and I insist upon being told.”
Mary sighed. “Teresa, Tom thinks that Peter and Emma could be nearby.”
“Nearby? I can’t see Peter staying around here.” Teresa poured herself a cup of coffee, her lifeblood these days.
“Tom found Emma’s butterfly necklace the morning after the robbery. It had to be Peter who broke in. Tom suspects that the trespassers up in the mountains could be Peter and Emma.”
“But she might have lost it before she was abducted.”
“No, if you remember, I gave her a bath that night. She got upset when I took it off her. I put the necklace by the jacket on your dresser and I know it was there after her kidnapping. The jacket and the necklace were taken.”
Teresa shook her head in disbelief.
“Think about it, Teresa. Why would someone want a cheap necklace when I had some expensive jewelry in my room? And all that was stolen was food…plus Emma’s jacket and necklace.”
“Of course. He’s hiding right under our nose.” Teresa buried her face in her hands. All the emotion she’d bottled inside poured out like the gushing water from a broken dam. The worry she carried for so long vanished into thin air.
This was a miracle!
Falling on her knees, she praised God. “Oh Lord, thank You. Thank You! Forgive me for doubting you.”
She wiped away tears from her eyes and looked up at Mary.
“Don’t you see? I prayed for something, anything, to give me hope that Emma would come home. God has answered my prayers! The necklace and the jacket are the signs—Emma is still alive and close by. I�
�d given up, doubting God’s ability. Even though I had forgotten Him, He did not forget me.”
“God never forgets us, Teresa. In Jeremiah 1:5—now I’m paraphrasing this—it states that God knew us before he formed us in the womb. All He wants is for us to trust Him. We may fail Him, but He will never fail us.”
“Mary, He answered my prayers even though I haven’t been a good follower. I want to change how I have been living. Going to church with you, and now this…it’s changed how I think. I want to live for God. I need God in my life.”
“Of course. Come here, dear.”
Leaping to her feet, Teresa hugged Mary, who handed her a box of tissues. They both wiped away their tears, and Teresa blew her nose. “I can’t wait to see my daughter.”
“I know you’re right. Emma is coming home and we need to be ready!” Marching across the room, into the hall, she pulled down the attic ladder and started up.
Teresa followed. “What are you doing?”
“I am bringing down the Christmas decorations. We have a house to be decorated and Emma ought to have gifts under the tree when she gets here. That means shopping.”
Teresa smiled. “I’ll help you.”
In no time, they had numerous boxes littering the living room, yet still Mary rummaged for more. Teresa laughed for the first time in a long time. “Maybe we should have cleared out some furniture before we brought the all this down,” she said.
“What’s the fun in that?” Mary carried another container in. “This is the last one.” After folding the ladder back up, Mary started opening lids. Although Teresa preferred to organize some things, she first assisted Mary in looking for the box containing the artificial tree. Upon finding it, they took the branches out piece by piece, assembled them, and then moved the empty box back to the attic.
“You don’t seem like the type to have an artificial tree to me, Mary.”
A Christmas Gift for Mary Jones Page 4
