No longer in the mood to check her e-mail, she shut the lid and went back to the kitchen. She picked up the plate of bread she’d cut. As she set the bread on the table, the lights in the kitchen went out.
Every muscle tensed. “Clay?” Did she hear breathing or was it her imagination? She felt along the top of the refrigerator. No flashlight. Of course, Clay had taken it. She didn’t even know where to look for another. She stood in the middle of the kitchen with her heart pounding against her ribs.
She had to get help. Cautiously feeling her way, she eased toward the door. When she stepped onto the porch, a breeze lifted her hair. It was just as dark out here. There was no moon, and clouds hid the stars. She couldn’t even see the steps to the yard. Her hand found the porch post, then her foot felt the steps drop off. If she didn’t fear waking the girls, she’d call out to Clay from here. The thought of walking across the yard in her bare feet was daunting. There could be snakes, scorpions, or tarantulas.
After hesitating, she decided to go back and get her shoes. It wasn’t as though the lights being out would awaken the girls. She retreated to the house and felt her way to the living room, where she found her shoes by the sofa. She slid her feet into them and went to the back door again. From here she should see the lights on in the barn. At least she had a direction to aim for. It was pitch black out here. She realized she still clutched the spoon she’d used to stir the chili.
She heard something behind her. “Clay?”
Half turning, she felt a hand on her arm. Then something sweet and moist pressed against her nose and mouth. Struggling, she tried to scream but only succeeded in sucking in more of the chemical on the rag pressed against her face.
Then she was falling into a darkness even more profound.
The flashlight beam probed the darkness only a few feet as Clay walked back toward the house that he knew had to be back here. But there were no lights to guide him. Surely Eden hadn’t turned out the lights and gone to bed. Frowning, Clay strode in what he thought was the right direction. He stopped and shined the light higher, then saw the outline of the bunkhouse. Finally. He mounted the steps and poked his head inside.
“Eden?” He flipped the switch on the wall but nothing happened. He caught his breath. A thrown breaker or something deliberate? “Eden?” he called again.
Where was the breaker? He tried to remember. He’d seen it somewhere. In the kitchen maybe? He made his way to the kitchen. The scent of chili hung in the air. He hadn’t smelled it when he came in the first time, so Eden must have been warming it for him. He touched the stove and found the pot warm. Where was she? Alarm bells were ringing in his head.
He shined the light around the room. No sign of the breaker box. Wait, wasn’t it on the outside wall right here? Letting the flashlight guide his way, he shoved open the screen door and stepped onto the back porch. The electrical box was mounted on the siding. He aimed the light at the panel and opened the cover. All the breakers looked okay. Frowning, he studied them, then stared at the main. It was flipped off. His gut clenched.
He stepped back into the kitchen. “Eden?”
It didn’t matter if he awakened the girls now. He had to find his wife. Room by room, he turned on lights and searched. The bright lights did nothing to lift his fear. Not in the living room. Not in the bathroom or their bedroom. In the children’s room, they all slept in spite of his voice calling for Eden.
He had to get help from Rick. He went out to the living room and called her name once more, then stepped to the porch, pausing to turn on the porch light. The bulb pushed back the shadows, and he could see the swing and the chairs on the porch. No Eden.
Cupping his hands to his mouth, he called for her again. When there was no answer, he went down the steps to the yard, sweeping the flashlight beam over the area. Something glittered in the weeds. He focused the flashlight. A spoon covered with chili.
“Eden!” He raced to the main house and pounded on the door. When Allie opened it, he looked past her. “Get Rick. Eden’s missing.”
“Oh no!” She turned and called over her shoulder. “Rick, hurry!”
Rick came through the kitchen door still chewing on his dinner. He swallowed. “What’s wrong?”
“I think someone has taken Eden.” The words caused cold terror to curl in his belly. “Call the sheriff.” He sagged against the door frame and wondered if he would ever see his wife again.
33
EVERY BREATH DRAGGED IN A SICKENINGLY SWEET TASTE. EDEN TRIED TO OPEN HER EYES and couldn’t. Another odor penetrated the smell of chloroform. Mouse droppings. She managed to lift her lids and squinted in the dim light.
She lay on a dirty sofa littered with chewed paper and mouse dung. Every instinct told her to spring to her feet, but her muscles refused to obey. The most she could do was to lift her head away from the disgusting mess.
A soft hand touched her arm. “How do you feel, dear?”
She stared into the face of a woman in her late forties or early fifties. Dark hair, sweet smile, compassionate eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses.
Eden tried to smile back, but she was sure it was more of a grimace. “My head hurts.”
The woman helped her sit. “You’ve been unconscious all night.”
Eden’s head throbbed so badly she found it hard to think. “Where am I?”
“I’m not sure. In a cabin somewhere in the desert. I can’t make out much. The windows are boarded up and there are only tiny cracks to see out. The door is padlocked on the outside.”
It all rushed back to Eden. The lights going out. The attack. She wobbled to her feet. “I have to get out of here!” Brianna and the other girls had to be okay. And Clay.
The woman grabbed her arm. “Settle down, honey. Neither of us is going anywhere.”
“We’re prisoners here?”
The woman shrugged. “The only power over us is what God has allowed. When he’s ready to release us, nothing will stand in his way.”
Her manner drew Eden. Such confidence and trust calmed her. She wished she was so quick to have faith. “Have you seen our captor?”
“Only vaguely. I could tell little through the windshield as I tried to escape being struck by the truck. I hit my head when I was forced off the road. When I awoke, I was here.”
Eden eyed the woman, realizing who she was. The lady wore a black skirt and white blouse that was a little wrinkled. Where was the habit, the wimple? “Forced off the road. You’re Sister Marjo?”
“Why, yes. How do you know of me?”
“We were expecting you at Bluebird Ranch. I’m Eden Larson. My husband and I are counselors for the girls.”
She took off her glasses and polished them on her skirt. “Then you’ve been taking care of our Lacie.”
“I have.”
“What did you see when you were taken?”
“I was drugged in the dark and saw nothing.” She could still smell the sickening odor of the chemical and wished she could have a sip of water. “Is there anything to drink?”
“Let me get you water.” The nun went to a plastic jug by the door.
A sleeve of cups was beside it. There was also a loaf of bread, a jar of Jif peanut butter, and a can of nuts beside it, but Eden wasn’t hungry. Her tongue wanted to stick to the roof of her mouth, so she drank the water greedily when the sister handed her the red cup.
“Did you see him bring me in?” Eden asked after she drained the last drop.
Sister Marjo shook her head. “I was sleeping, then heard the door shut. I found you on the floor just inside the door. I assume he dropped you inside.”
“You carried me to the sofa?”
The nun shuddered. “I couldn’t let you lie on the floor. Spiders and scorpions.”
Eden shivered too. “Thank you.”
She peered around the dim space. The one-room cabin held only a battered table, the shredded sofa, and a bank of open cabinets that were empty. The place smelled of dust and disuse. And mouse.
> “Where did you sleep?”
“I curled up on the table.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It was nothing, my dear. I was quite comfortable.”
Eden went to the boarded-up window on the wall by the door. She tried to slip her fingers under the board, but she couldn’t even get her nail beneath it. “I think these haven’t been up long.”
Sister Marjo came to stand beside her. “I thought the same. They appear to be quite new.”
Eden went to look into the old sink, layered with cobwebs. “If we only had something to pry them up with.”
“I looked everywhere. There isn’t so much as a spoon.”
Eden glanced to the door. “What about the peanut butter? How are you spreading it?”
“I haven’t so far. I assume he expects me to use my fingers, but there’s no way to wash so I’ve had a handful of nuts only. I didn’t want to contaminate the whole jar of peanut butter with my filthy hands.”
No help there, then. “If there was even a stray nail,” she said. “It’s so dim in here. Can you tell what time of day it is?”
“I believe it’s morning. It was still dark a couple of hours ago, then the room began to lighten a bit.” She pointed to threads of sunshine coming in through cracks in the walls and the roof. “I don’t have a watch.”
Eden was already feeling a bit claustrophobic. She wanted out of here. If she had the nerve, she would crawl on her hands and feet along the floor and feel for anything that might be helpful. She slipped off her shoes and swept her stocking foot back and forth across the surface.
When she heard something roll across the floor, she pounced on it. “It’s a nail!” she said, holding it aloft. Maybe they’d get out of here yet. She had to live, had to raise her daughter.
The first board held fast to the wall. Eden’s initial high hopes began to fade when she couldn’t pry the nail under the second board either. “I need something to hit it with,” she said. “Maybe the nut can?”
Sister Marjo ran to get it. “Here you go.” She handed it to Eden.
Wedging the tip of the nail under the lip of the board, Eden smacked the head of the nail with the can. “It’s under!”
She knocked it again and it slipped a tiny bit more. Little by little she drove the nail under the edge.
“You need something to exert leverage now. The nail is too small to maneuver,” Sister Marjo said. She glanced around the room. “Let me see if I can get the table leg off.”
She flipped the table on its side and began to wiggle one of the legs. “It’s loosening!” The leg clattered to the floor, and she brought it to Eden. “Push on the nail with this.”
Eden wedged the edge of the nail into a crack in the end of the table leg and pushed on it. The board seemed to give a little. Patiently she repeated the movement so many times she lost track. “I’ve got it!” she said when the board came up far enough that she was able to get the table leg under it. One more hard shove and she was able to wrench the board from the window.
Sunlight streamed through the opening. There was no glass in the frame.
The nun peered outside. “Any idea where we are?”
Eden stared too. “Not really. I don’t see any other houses or roads around.” Even if they got out of here, which direction should they head? “I think I can get the rest of these boards off now.”
She grabbed the board she’d removed and used it as a fulcrum to pop the next board loose. Once it was out, she and Sister Marjo might be able to squeeze through the window sideways. But once it was free, she decided to take another board out. Then the entire window was open to the elements. The heat poured in, and she wiped her brow.
“You’re very inventive, young lady,” the nun said. “Shall we get out of here?”
Eden smiled. “I’ll go first so I can help you out.” She put on her shoes. With one arm through the window, her shirt snagged on the rough wood, and she heard the material tear. Jerking it free, she managed to get outside the building. She could toss the blouse.
“This should be fun.” The sister hiked up her skirt and put one leg through.
Eden grabbed her arm and helped her onto what was left of a front porch. They were free! She turned and stared at the barren hills. There was no sign of civilization in any direction. No sound of tires on pavement. Only the caw of a crow overhead. The wind rustled through the cacti and grasses and made her feel alone and vulnerable. A lone coyote cried somewhere in the distance and the sound raised the hair on the back of her head.
“I can see you’re frightened,” Sister Marjo said. “Don’t be. God sees us.”
Eden knew that too, but there was something in the nun’s voice that was more confident than a platitude. “He talks to you?”
“Not in audible words, but with impressions.” The nun put her hand on her chest. “I feel it here. And we should go that way.” She pointed to a distant desert peak.
It wasn’t the direction Eden would have picked. They would have to climb that peak. But somehow she trusted the other woman’s instincts. “Okay.”
She and Sister Marjo set off across the sand. The hillside was nearly covered with cholla cacti, and she knew enough to proceed carefully. Also known as the jumping cactus, just the slightest brush would have left their skin punctured with tiny needles. The sun beat down on their heads, and she hadn’t been gone from the cabin more than five minutes before perspiration trickled down her back.
They reached the top of the peak and stopped to catch their breath. The vista from here didn’t reveal any clearer idea of their location. “Now what?” she asked. Was she crazy for listening to a nun she didn’t even know? One who had never been here before either?
Sister Marjo peered from behind her glasses. She took her time staring in all directions. “That way,” she said, indicating they should continue west.
“You’re the boss,” Eden said.
They trudged down the slope and hit the flat desert, which seemed to stretch out for a hundred miles. Not a single cloud softened the brutality of the sun on their heads. Eden wished she had something to cover her arms. She was already beginning to burn.
“We should have brought our water and food,” Sister Marjo said.
Eden nearly groaned. “That was dumb,” she agreed. “I’m already getting thirsty. I guess I thought we couldn’t be far from help, but I was wrong. There are no ranches, no nothing, as far as I can see.”
“God knows where we are, dear girl. ‘Where can I go from Your Spirit? Or where can I flee from Your presence? If I ascend into heaven, You are there; if I make my bed in hell, behold, You are there.’” Sister Marjo smiled. “I love the 139th Psalm, don’t you?”
A pang of longing clutched Eden’s heart. Such confidence, such trust. If the nun’s faith were a bucket of water, Eden had only a drop of the same confidence. She wiped her forehead again and glanced around. This desert was similar to hell, but Eden kept the thought to herself. She set her sights on a patch of cactus in the far distance. If they saw nothing by the time they reached that vista, she was turning back for the water.
34
EDEN HAD BEEN GONE ALL NIGHT AND ALL DAY. CLAY LEANED BACK IN THE SADDLE AS HE reached the ranch and wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. They’d found no sign of her. The sheriff had everyone in four counties looking for her and the nun.
Allie came rushing down the steps from the porch. “Nothing?”
“Not a sign.” He didn’t even try to hide his discouragement. “Has anyone else reported in?”
“The sheriff called a few minutes ago. He’s found nothing yet. Zeke is still out. Della is taking care of all the kids.”
“Are the girls worried?”
“We haven’t told them, but I think they suspect something is wrong. They’re a little wild today,” Allie said. “Brendan is here.”
Clay dismounted, and Buzz took the reins, then led the lathered horse away. “Where is he?” Clay started toward the house.
“G
etting a horse so he can help with the search. He and Rick are about to go out again. Rick came in half an hour ago to get a fresh mount.”
Clay changed direction and followed Allie to the corral, where he found both men saddling horses. “Thanks for coming to help, Brendan,” he said.
The other man pulled the cinch on the saddle. “I did some research on that Daniel character you mentioned,” he said. “He’s been gone from home for two days. No one seems to know where he is.”
“You think he’s around here, that he took Eden?” The slimeball. Clay wanted to strangle him.
“It’s a possibility.” Brendan stopped and glanced at Clay. “You look as scraggly as a coyote.”
“I haven’t slept.” He’d tried for about an hour, but his eyes had refused to close. “Anything else you’ve uncovered?”
Brendan flipped the stirrup into place. “The ransom money in that suitcase. You put marked bills in it. Some of it surfaced.”
Clay had checked for a while, but the money had never turned up. The last time he’d asked about it had been a year ago. “Where?”
“In Bluebird. About six months ago.”
That was a shocker. “Well before we came. But how do you connect Daniel to the money? And Bluebird?”
Brendan finished saddling his horse. He put a boot in the stirrup and vaulted onto the horse. “I’m not. Just relaying what I found out.”
Rick mounted his horse. “What about Santiago? Is he giving up any new leads?” He sneezed and the horse reared a bit, but he quieted the animal with a touch.
Brendan leaned back in the saddle. “Still not talking. But I’m sure he’s connected, since you believe that his influence caused the attacks on Eden in the first place.”
What about Daniel, though? Clay still thought Eden’s foster brother had something to do with it.
Rick glanced at his wife. “Rita back from town yet?”
Allie pointed to the truck. “I just saw her pull into the drive. Why?”
Lonestar Angel Page 24
