Renegade: A Taggart Brothers Novel (25 page)

Sinking onto the bed, she pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. Her brain seemed to whirl with a million thoughts, but was curiously numb at the same time.

Unfortunately, by sitting down, by trying to corral the emotions roiling in her brain, she zoned out and the next thing she knew, the rumble of Jace’s truck neared the house again.

S
UDDENLY
panicked, Bronte rushed to the window, already reaching for her phone. But even as her fingers stood poised to text him and tell him she’d changed her mind, it rang. Then it rang two more times before she snatched it up and answered.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

How did the sound of his voice manage to slide through her veins like a liquid tonic?

“Are you still up to having me stop by?”

His concern was palpable, drawing her toward the window as if she were attached to him by a string.

She pushed the curtain aside, causing a patch of light to spill onto the ground. Jace immediately looked up and smiled.

Bronte probably could have resisted the man except for that smile. She could have made an excuse and sent him on his way. But the gesture was filled with such love and concern that her face crumpled and tears pushed at the back of her throat, making it impossible to talk, to breathe.

She heard a soft curse on the line. Before she could fathom what he meant to do, he pocketed his phone, climbed the intricate wrought-iron porch support, hoisted himself onto the newly repaired roof, and gingerly made his way to the window.

By that time, she’d gathered her wits enough to lift up the sash. Then, he was stepping inside to fold her into his arms.

Instantly, the emotions that she’d tried to tamp down since Phillip had appeared came rushing to the surface. Clinging to Jace, she surrendered to the storm of emotion, sobbing into his chest.

To his credit, he didn’t seem put off by the display. Instead, he held her even more tightly, rocking her from side to side, stroking her hair and whispering, “Let it out. You don’t have to carry it all alone anymore. Let it all out.”

Never in her life had another person given her permission to cry. Not dainty feminine tears, but huge, air-gulping, chest-rending sobs that threatened to tear her apart. Yet Jace seemed completely undaunted, allowing her tears to soak into his shirt. There was no need for words. His actions conveyed everything she needed to know—that he loved her, cared for her, ached with her. As if the sobs loosened the dam she’d built around her emotions, the words also spilled free, rushing through her lips in a barely intelligible flood as she spoke of Lily, of what had been lost.

But when she began to blame herself, he held her even tighter. “No, Bronte, no,” he whispered. He lay her on the bed, then stretched out beside her, cradling Bronte against him and drawing a blanket over her shoulders. “You’re a great mom. Your daughters love you. Never doubt that. Ever.”

In time, the storm of weeping eased, then passed, leaving her weak and trembling in his arms.

“You must think—”

“Shh. I think you’re exhausted and worried. But you’re not alone, okay?”

Her chin trembled and the tears threatened to fall again. It had been so long since someone had offered to share her burdens. No, her problems hadn’t been magically solved,
but she felt the soft sweet beginnings of hope unfurling in her breast.

When she tried to move, sure that Jace would be ready to sit up or even leave, he tenderly tucked her back against his chest.

“Shh. Lie still. I’ll stay here until you fall asleep.”

The release of emotion had left her so tired that she didn’t resist. Instead, she allowed her heavy eyelids to close.

“You’re a miracle worker, Jace. Do you know that?”

“Hardly.”

She smiled against him. “You seem to have tamed the savage teenage beast that has been living in this house for the last few weeks.”

“She’ll probably make a reappearance in a while.”

“What on earth did you say to her?”

“Not much. She was worried about her sister and upset with her father. I think she’d already come to a lot of her own conclusions concerning his behavior. I reassured her that she had some men in her life she could come to if she needed help.”

Bronte damned the way her throat became tight again.

“Thank you, Jace.”

“My pleasure.” His voice rumbled pleasantly beneath her ear. “She gave me permission to come over tonight.”

She smiled against him. “I know.” She roused. “What about Barry? Do you need to—”

“Shhh.” Jace drew her back down again. “He’s with Elam.”

“He’s such a sweet boy, Jace. You’ve got to be proud of him.”

“I am. Lily has been the best thing to happen to him in a long time. He misses her.”

“Send him over tomorrow. I think it’s time they talked.”

“He’ll probably bring a bag full of ranch toys.”

“I’ll buy him a whole new set if he can get Lily to smile again.”

“Don’t tell
him
that.”

Jace’s fingers began to trace long slow strokes up and down her back. Soon her breathing began to sync with the
motion. Bronte felt her tight muscles release, one by one, until she felt boneless and adrift.

“Jace?” she murmured with the last shred of coherence that remained.

“Hmm.”

“Love . . . you.”

There was a slight hitch to the rhythm of his fingertips, then, from very far away, she heard, “Love you, too, Bronte.”

*   *   *

THE
next afternoon, Jace scowled up at the clouds gathering in the distance. Just as the radio had predicted, a storm was blowing in. He would have to hurry to get his work done so that he could meet Barry at the bus stop. He didn’t want him to have to walk in the rain.

He hurried into the Big House, intent on grabbing something quick for lunch. But as soon as he walked through the door, his phone rang. Distracted, knowing that he only had a few minutes before he had to meet the hay broker in the yard, he yanked open the refrigerator door as he hit the call button.

“Yeah.”

“Mr. Taggart?”

Jace had been expecting the low, melodious tones of Esteban Peña, so when a woman’s voice greeted him, he straightened.

“This is Jace.”

“This is Natalie Noorda from the high school. Barry’s teacher asked me to get in touch with you and see if you’d like her to send his project home with one of the neighbors. They had the judging today and he won a prize.”

“That’s great. I know he was excited about the contest.” Jace’s brow creased. “Can’t Barry bring it home himself? I could probably swing by at the end of the day to pick him up if it’s too big to carry on the bus.”

There was a heavy silence, then, “Isn’t Barry home with you?”

Jace straightened, bumping the fridge door shut with his hip.

“Ms. . . . Noorda, was it?”

“Yes.”

“I dropped Barry off at the bus stop this morning.”

“Oh, dear.” The woman was clearly upset. “Mr. Taggart, I’m one of the paraprofessionals that meets the buses each morning to gather the kids for the life skills class. Barry didn’t get off this morning.”

Shit.

Lunch forgotten, Jace headed for the door. “Is there any way you could talk to the driver and make sure he didn’t see him at the bus stop?”

“Absolutely. I’ll also talk to Jake Eddington. He gets on at the stop right before Barry’s. As soon as I know something, I’ll call back.”

“Thanks.”

As soon as the woman hung up, Jace was speed-dialing Elam.

“This is Elam.”

“Elam, have you seen Barry?”

“Not since he headed down the hill this morning. Why?”

Jace was already climbing into his truck. “He came in, gathered his school stuff, and I dropped him off at the end of the lane like I always do. But the school called to say he never got there.”

“Hell. Where could he have gone?”

“I don’t know. They were having a special day today. His seed project was being judged, so I can’t understand why he didn’t get on the bus.”

“I’m headed down the highway now. I should be there in a few minutes. I’ll check my cabin first and then backtrack toward the house. In the meantime, I’ll call P.D. and ask if she’s seen or heard from him.”

“Thanks.”

“What about Bodey?”

“He left yesterday morning.”

“All right. I’ll call him, too. Not that there’s anything he can do to help. He’s probably in Cheyenne by now. But maybe he’s heard from him.”

Within minutes, Jace was in his pickup again, driving at a snail’s pace as he wound down the lane toward the highway. Had Barry forgotten something, started home, and then fallen? It wasn’t like him to wander off. Even when he was younger and still struggling with the limits of his disability, he’d remained emotionally tethered to familiar surroundings. He didn’t like dealing with unaccustomed situations or places.

A quick sweep of the area left Jace with no more information than he’d had when he’d started, so he swung his truck in the other direction so that he could scour the lane again.

When his phone went off, he answered it mid-ring.

“This is Jace.”

“Mr. Taggart. Natalie Noorda. I spoke with the bus driver and he confirmed that Barry wasn’t waiting at the stop in front of your house when he drove by this morning. But Jake said that he thought he saw Barry before the bus appeared, but that he ran back toward home again with . . . ‘that new girl.’ Does that make sense to you?”

“Yeah. It does. Thank you.”

Jace changed direction again, taking the access road that would take him to Annie’s house. Even though he’d been given a better idea where Barry had gone, he kept a sharp eye on the fields and ditches on either side of the road.

When he pulled next to the house, he saw Bronte unloading groceries from the back of her van. As soon as she saw him, she set the bags back into the car and waved.

Skidding to a halt, Jace rolled down his window. “Have you seen Barry today?”

“No. Lily insisted on going to school, so I went to work this morning. Annie made sure she headed to the bus stop on time.”

Jace sighed. “I don’t know if she made it there. I got a call saying Barry didn’t show up. One of the boys down the highway said he thought he saw Barry and Lily heading back toward the ranch.”

“What?”

Before Jace could react, she ran into the house. He heard her speak briefly to Annie, then the sound of her footsteps disappearing upstairs. By the time Jace followed her inside, Annie had rolled her chair into the doorway of the living room.

“I saw her go off to school this morning,” she said, her eyes wide and worried. “She seemed excited. It’s the happiest I’ve seen her in days.”

Bronte appeared at the top of the stairs. “They aren’t here.”

Jace bit back a curse. “I’ll go check the tree house. Look through Lily’s room one more time. See if there’s anything missing—clothes, a suitcase—that could tell us if they decided to run away.”

He hated the way Bronte’s cheeks lost their color at the suggestion, but she quickly went to do as he’d asked.

Jace strode through the kitchen and out the side door in long loping strides. But after climbing the ladder, it was easy to see that the children hadn’t been there. The wind had deposited a fine layer of dust and leaves on the plank floors. If they’d been up here, the debris would have been disturbed.

“Jace!” Bronte burst through the screen door and he dropped back to the ground. He caught her by the arms as she stumbled over the uneven ground.

“The jar,” she gasped. “The butterfly jar is gone. And her quilt.”

At the same time, the phone in his pocket emitted a shrill ring. Jace grabbed it from one hand.

“Yeah.”

“When there was no sign of Barry at my place, I went back to the Big House to check his room. There was a note taped to his door. Heck if I can figure out what it says. See what you can make of it.” There was the rustling of paper, then, “Gone to sit Goldie free. Be back super.”

Bronte tugged on Jace’s sleeve. “Lily named her butterfly Goldie. It must have come out of its cocoon overnight.”

“That means that he’s heading for the summer pasture.”

On the other end of the phone, Elam said, “I’ll head for
the barn and see if Snuffles is gone. The hired men have the ATVs.”

“Bronte and I will head back that way. If Barry’s horse is missing, saddle up Greystoke and put him in the trailer.” Jace squinted up at the sky and the heavy clouds that seemed to be piling up against the mountaintops. “I’ll see if I can head the kids off before the road runs out. If not, I’ll ride toward the camp and intercept them.”

“You want me to go with you?”

“No. I need someone to coordinate things here in case they head back and I miss them along the way.”

Bronte tugged on his sleeve again. “Tell him to saddle two horses.”

Jace opened his mouth to refuse, knowing he could make better time on his own. But when he caught the shadow of fear in her eyes, he knew that nothing on earth could have prevented him from going after Barry, and she probably felt the same.

“You’ll need to saddle up a mount for Bronte as well. She’s coming with me.”

“How experienced is she?”

He saw Bronte stiffen as if she thought she would have to fight to be included, so he said, “She’s a beginner. Snowflake should work fine.”

“Consider it done.”

When he hung up, Bronte threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you, Jace. I couldn’t stand to wait here. Not with a storm on the way.”