by Cindi Myers
He returned the kiss with a fierceness that matched her own, his hand gripping her shoulder as if to steady them both.
He pulled away first. “Whoa,” he said, his voice a little hoarse.
“Yeah, whoa.” She looked away, her cheeks warm, wondering what had come over her.
He leaned over to poke the fire, she suspected to give them both time to recover. But then he froze. “Did you hear that?” he whispered.
“Hear what?” She couldn’t hear anything over the pounding of her heart.
He held up one hand, head cocked, staring into the darkness past the fire.
Then she heard it. A small, thin wail.
She was on her feet and racing toward the sound before she even realized what she was doing. Gage pounded after her, the beam of his flashlight cutting a path through the darkness ahead of them.
And then they saw her—the tiny, stumbling figure. Casey wailed and held out her arms. Maya scooped her up, then sank to her knees, her tears mingling with those of her niece as they clung together.
Chapter Ten
It seemed to Gage as if half the town was waiting in front of the sheriff’s office when he pulled up with Maya and Casey. As soon as he had found a good cell signal, he had phoned Travis to give him the news and asked him to have the EMTs meet them. Though Casey appeared to be in good shape, considering she had spent the last forty-eight hours wandering around in the woods, he thought it would be a good idea to have her checked out, just to be sure.
The EMTs—or possibly Adelaide—must have spread the word, because despite it being after nine o’clock on a weeknight, cars crowded the street for three blocks on either side of the station, and a broadcast van from a Junction television news program was set up in the middle of the street.
“How are we going to get Casey through all those people?” Maya asked from the back seat, where she held the little girl on her lap. At camp, Casey had accepted some water and a few bites of pie, but had refused anything else and had clung fiercely to Maya, spending most of the ride to town with her face buried in Maya’s shoulder. Sometime soon, Gage would have to interview her about what had happened to her parents, but that could wait.
“They’ll let us through,” he said. “The EMTs will meet us inside.” He flipped on his lights and eased around the TV van, aware of a cameraman filming their arrival. He parked as close to the front door as he could. When he stepped out of the SUV, a cheer rose from the crowd. He opened the passenger door, and leaned in to help Maya and Casey out.
But when he reached in to take Casey, the little girl shrank back and shook her head. “No,” she signed—a communication that was clear even to Gage.
“It’s okay, honey.” Maya spoke as she signed to the child. “Gage is our friend. He’s just going to hold you for a little bit while I get out of the car.”
Casey turned her head to look at him. The courage shining behind her fear gave rise to a fierce protectiveness in him. Some person or persons had destroyed her world with a couple of bullets, but Gage would do everything in his power to see that she wasn’t hurt again.
Maya had said her niece was learning to read lips, so he looked directly at her and tried to enunciate carefully. “Will you let me hold you for just a bit while your Aunt Maya gets out of the car?” he asked. “Or you could stand here beside me?”
Casey’s gaze shifted to the people who were crowding around the SUV, including the cameraman who had moved in close. “Back off and give her some room,” Gage growled.
The cameraman and the others moved back, and Gage returned his attention to Casey. “Go to Gage,” Maya urged. “I’ll be right here.”
Casey nodded, took her arms from around Maya’s neck and reached out to Gage. He picked her up and held her with as much tenderness as he could muster, as if she was made of spun sugar.
Maya climbed out of the cruiser and the reporter stepped forward, but Gage blocked him. “How did you find her?” the reporter asked.
“She came to her aunt,” Gage said, as Maya took Casey once more. He put an arm around her and escorted her into the station, ignoring the reporter’s follow-up questions. There would be time enough later to share the story with the rest of the world. Now, he had to take care of the child and her aunt.
Inside the station, most of the force and Adelaide waited to greet them. “We’re all really happy to see you, Casey,” Travis said, speaking carefully to the little girl. “How are you feeling?”
In answer, Casey buried her head in Maya’s shoulder once more. “I think she’s a little overwhelmed,” Maya said.
“And who wouldn’t be?” Adelaide stepped forward. “Let’s get you both into the conference room, where it’s quieter. The EMTs can check her out there. Do you think she’d like something to eat? I can make her a peanut butter sandwich with the crusts cut off. My grandchildren always liked that.”
“That would be great,” Maya said. She let Adelaide usher her toward the conference room, trailed by two EMTs. Gage started to follow, but Travis put a hand on his shoulder. “Tell me what happened,” he said. “Then you’ll need to make a statement for the press.”
“We were sitting by the fire at the camp and she came out of the woods toward us, crying for Maya,” Gage said. No point mentioning that seconds before, he and Maya had been kissing like reunited lovers. Even the memory of that kiss scorched him, the heat so intense and unexpected. All that talk on the drive from town about his plan to avoid getting too deeply involved with anyone, and one kiss from her had pulled him under like a riptide.
“Did she say anything about what happened to her parents?”
Travis’s question pulled Gage away from his memory of that moment by the fire, back to the present. “No. She hasn’t said much of anything at all,” he answered.
“We need to find out what she knows,” Travis said.
Gage looked toward the conference room. The door was open and he could see Casey sitting in one of the chairs, half a sandwich in one hand, a child-sized blood pressure cuff around her other arm. Maya sat to one side, her profile to the door. “Should we have a counselor or someone with us when we question her?” he asked. “If she did see her parents get shot, I don’t want to traumatize her more.”
Travis nodded. “Good idea. I’ll contact the victim advocate program in the morning and ask them to send someone over. I’m sure they have advocates who specialize in working with children.” He glanced toward the conference room. “We won’t push for anything until then, but if Casey volunteers any information, we’ll make note of it.”
“If she wants to talk, we’ll listen,” Gage agreed.
The brothers went into the conference room and found the EMTs packing up their gear. “How is she?” Gage asked.
“A few bug bites and some bruises,” the female EMT, Merrily Anderson, said. “She told us she drank creek water, which kept her hydrated, but it also means she was probably exposed to giardia. If any symptoms show up, she’ll need to see her pediatrician. Other than that, as soon as she has a good night’s sleep and a couple of good meals in her, she should be fine.”
Casey laid aside the half-eaten sandwich and signed something.
“She says she lost her socks,” Maya translated. She signed to the girl, speaking for the benefit of the others in the room. “We found them. We wondered why they weren’t on your feet.”
The girl’s fingers moved rapidly in answer. “She says they got muddy, so she took them off to wash in the creek,” Maya said. “She hung them on a bush to dry. Then she forgot which bush.”
“Did she stay near the camp the whole time?” Gage asked. “Did she see the people looking for her?”
Maya passed on the questions and waited for the girl’s answer. “She says she was afraid to go with them. And then she walked away and didn’t see them anymore. When she came back, she saw me and you sitting by the fire.”
“I’m so glad you saw me,” Maya said as she signed, tears sliding down her cheeks. “So glad.”
“Has she mentioned anything about what happened to her parents?” Travis asked.
“No.” Maya gave the girl a look filled with worry. Casey had gone back to eating her sandwich. “Do you want me to ask her? I’m afraid it will upset her.”
“You don’t have to ask her now,” Travis said. “But we’ll need to know what she knows to help us find the killers.”
“I know,” Maya said. “I just hate to put her through that. She’s been through so much already.”
“We’re going to bring in a victim advocate who specializes in working with children,” Gage said. “She’ll help us get the information we need with as little trauma as possible.”
“That would definitely help.” Maya stifled a yawn. “Right now, I think we’re all exhausted.”
“Let me take you back to the Bear’s Den,” Gage said. “You and Casey can both get a good night’s sleep.”
She glanced toward the door. “I really don’t want to face that crowd again.”
“I’ll talk to them.” Travis dug his keys from his pocket. “My Toyota is parked out back,” he said, handing the keys to Gage. “Go out that way.”
No one had thought to stake out the back entrance to the station, so Gage, Maya and Casey were able to leave quickly and quietly. By the time they reached the B and B, Casey had fallen asleep. She didn’t wake when Gage took her in his arms. He carried her up the walkway and Paige opened the door for them.
“You must all be worn out,” Paige said. “Take her straight back to Maya’s room and we’ll talk in the morning.”
In the room, Maya folded back the covers on the big four-poster bed and Gage settled the little girl with her head on the pillow. Casey sighed as Maya pulled the covers around her and turned onto her side.
Maya looked down on her for a moment, then turned toward Gage and rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m so exhausted and relieved and grateful and sad,” she said. “Thank you—for everything.”
“I haven’t really done anything,” he said, but he tightened his arms around her and she made no protests when he pulled her close.
“You were there,” she said. “I knew I could count on you. That helped. You’ve made me feel less alone.” She rested the palm of her hand on his chest, over his heart. “When I kissed you earlier, I wasn’t really planning on that. It caught me off guard.” Her eyes met his and he felt a fresh jolt of heat. “But I’m not sorry it happened.”
“No,” he said. “I’m not sorry, either.”
“Everything about the past two days is a little unreal,” she said. “Including you.”
She was offering him an easy out—a safe way to dismiss what had passed between them and make it about the heat of the moment. But for once, he didn’t want that. He kissed her—just a brief brush of his lips across hers, then he stepped back. “Oh, I’m real all right.” He took another step back. “I’ll see you in the morning.” He had no idea where these feelings between them were headed, but he was willing to stick around to find out.
* * *
THOUGH MAYA WAS EXHAUSTED, she lay awake a long time, Casey’s little body curled next to her in the bed. Intense relief that her niece had been found safe warred with worry about their future. What did she know about raising a child—especially one who had been through such a traumatic experience? Casey was counting on her and the responsibility weighed heavily.
She finally drifted to sleep and woke with a start to find Casey watching her. “Where are we?” Casey signed.
“We’re in Eagle Mountain,” Maya answered. “In a house owned by a nice woman named Paige. Would you like to take a bubble bath?” The little girl was filthy, but Maya hadn’t had the heart to wake her the night before to make her take a bath.
Casey nodded and sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, still dressed in the clothes she had worn for days. “You can wear one of my T-shirts until we get your clothes,” Maya told her. She would have to ask Gage what had been done with them.
Ordinarily, a bubble bath was sure to coax a grin from the little girl, but though Casey seemed to enjoy the pampering and even played with the bubbles, mounding them in her hands and forming them into fanciful shapes, she remained solemn, her normally constantly dancing hands mostly still.
Maya had just helped her from the tub when a knock sounded on the bedroom door. Paige stood on the other side, a plastic bag in her hand. “An officer dropped these off earlier this morning,” she said. “Adelaide realized Casey would need clean clothes, so she talked the sheriff into releasing them.”
“Bless her.” Maya took the bag. “And thank you.”
Paige glanced toward the open bathroom door. “I heard the water running and thought it was probably safe to come up. I wanted to let you sleep as long as possible. I know you’re both exhausted.”
“Once I finally got to sleep, I pretty much passed out,” Maya said.
Paige lowered her voice. “How is she?”
“Quiet. Quieter than usual. And serious. More serious than a five-year-old should be.”
Paige reached out and squeezed Maya’s shoulder. “I imagine it will take time. But being with you is going to help her. Clearly, she trusts you.”
Casey trusted Maya to do the right thing, but Maya had no clue what that might be. She felt a tug on her shirt and looked down to find Casey, wrapped in the oversized bath towel. “Paige brought your clothes.” Maya spoke and signed, then held up the plastic bag.
Casey took the bag and stood staring at Paige.
Paige squatted down so that she was at Casey’s level. “Do you like waffles?” she asked.
Casey looked up at Maya and Maya translated the words into American Sign Language. “She’s still learning lipreading,” she told Paige. “And yes, she loves waffles.”
“Then as soon as you’re dressed and come downstairs, I’ll make you one—with whipped cream and strawberries, if you like.”
Casey nodded and trotted back to the bathroom with the bag containing her clothes. When the door had closed behind her, Maya turned back to Paige. “Gage said the sheriff’s office will have a victim advocate who specializes in children present when they question her.”
“And you’ll be there, too, I imagine,” Paige said. “Are you her guardian now?”
She didn’t say now that your sister is dead—Maya appreciated that. “Yes. When Angela and Greg talked to me about it when they made their will, I never expected it was something I would really have to do. It’s such a big responsibility and I haven’t a clue.”
“You love her and that will go a long way toward leading you in the right direction, I believe,” Paige said. “And there are a lot of people you can ask for help.”
“When we get back to Denver, I want to find a counselor for Casey to see—someone who can help her deal with everything she’s been through.”
“That’s a great idea. Has she said anything about her parents?”
“No. And I can’t decide if that’s bad or not.”
“I think it’s probably normal.” Paige stepped back. “Come down when you’re ready. I’ll have fresh coffee and those waffles.”
Casey emerged from the bathroom a few moments later, dressed in a denim skirt and a pink tee, a hairbrush in her hand. “I need help with my hair,” she signed.
“Come sit on the bed and I’ll fix it for you.”
Calm settled over Maya as she went through the familiar, soothing motions of brushing her niece’s hair and fastening it into a ponytail. The two had spent many happy afternoons playing hairdresser, taking turns combing and styling each other’s hair, laughing at some of the crazy results they had achieved.
At last, she laid aside the brush. “How about some breakfast?” she asked Casey.
The little girl nodded.
Downstairs, Maya was relieved to see that they would be alone with Paige. “Where are your other guests?” she asked as Paige set a mug of steaming coffee in front of her.
“I just have two other couples here right now. They left early this morning to go climbing.” She set plates in front of them filled with golden waffles drizzled with strawberry syrup, more berries and mounds of whipped cream on top. Casey’s eyes widened, and her expression held more life than Maya had seen since she and her niece had been reunited.
“I think she approves,” she said, and picked up her own fork.
They were just finishing the waffles when the doorbell rang. A few seconds later, Paige returned to the room, followed by Gage—a Gage who wore a starched uniform and smelled of a woodsy aftershave. Maya’s heart thudded wildly as he filled the doorway to the dining room, and she struggled to maintain her composure. Memory of the incendiary kiss they had shared by the campfire rushed back.
A tug on her shirt allowed her to tear her gaze away from him and focus on her niece. “Why are your cheeks so red?” the little girl signed.
The question only made Maya blush more. “I must have eaten too fast,” she answered—a completely ridiculous reply, but all she could think of at the moment. “You remember Gage, don’t you?” she added.
Casey nodded. She began signing, fingers moving rapidly.
“What’s she saying?” Gage asked.
“She says she saw you with me. By that little building. And the man was shooting at you.” Maya’s voice caught. “She says she ran away because she was afraid the man would hurt us, the way he hurt her mommy and daddy.” As Maya finished speaking, Casey put her face in her hands and began to sob.
Maya slid out of her chair and gathered Casey to her. “It’s all right, honey,” she murmured, rocking the child against her and smoothing her hair. “I’m not hurt. I’m okay.” Even though she knew Casey couldn’t hear her, she needed to say the words.
