CHAPTER 55
When she got to Jack Benny’s house and discovered that Jeb was missing, Lydia Dale was frantic and furious by turns. Where could he have run off to? And how was it possible that Jack Benny hadn’t noticed his son was missing until this morning?
“Didn’t you even bother to check on him before you went to bed?” she yelled. “Or were you too drunk for that?” It seemed a distinct possibility; he was wearing the same clothes he’d been in the day before.
A shouting match ensued, so loud that one of the neighbors called the sheriff. Vida Smollet, a capable and calm woman of about thirty-five, was the sheriff on duty. She got Lydia Dale and Jack Benny to settle down and explain what was going on, then quickly interviewed Cady to get her take on what had happened and what might have made her brother run away. Next she radioed in a missing child report and made a phone call to the F-Bar-T. When Dutch told her that Jeb hadn’t showed up there, she asked him to go search around the place and said she’d be there in a few minutes to help.
“Jack Benny, you stay here in case Jeb comes back,” she instructed. “If he does, call the sheriff’s department and wait for me or another officer to arrive. You’re not to yell at him or touch him in any way.”
When Jack Benny started to answer back, Vida pointed right at him.
“Sir, I’d advise you to think before you speak. I’m going to file a report with the children’s and family services department about all this, and your attitude will be taken into account. At the moment, I’d say you can count on supervised visitation with your children for a good while to come. If you’d like to lose your visitation rights entirely, then just keep it up. Am I making myself clear?”
Jack Benny glared at her and kicked the dirt with the toe of his boot. Vida turned toward Lydia Dale.
“You and Cady follow me out to the ranch. If Jeb’s not there already, chances are he’s headed that way.” She placed her hand on Lydia Dale’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, hon. We’ll find him.”
Mary Dell and Jeb arrived on the scene literally seconds after Lydia Dale and Vida. Vida climbed out of the patrol car, saw Jeb, and immediately made a call on her radio to say the missing child had been found.
While Jeb, clinging to Mary Dell’s hand, tearfully explained why he’d run away, how the fire had started, and all that came after, an emotional tornado churned inside Lydia Dale. She was by turns filled with fury, terror, relief, anguish, gratitude, and confusion, but more than all that, she was filled with self-recrimination.
After she’d given Jeb a stern talking-to and a hug, then sent him off to help Dutch with the cleanup, she let her head flop back onto the headrest of her father’s blue velvet recliner.
“I’m a terrible mother,” she said to the ceiling.
“Oh, stop that,” Mary Dell said. “You are not.”
“Yes, I am. If I wasn’t, Jeb wouldn’t be such a mess. You know, he was such a happy baby. Always smiling, so precious. And now, ten years later, he’s angry, he’s sad, and he’s an arsonist. How did I manage to ruin a perfect child in just ten short years?”
Mary Dell moved from the sofa to the recliner and perched herself on the arm.
“First off, no child is perfect. Second, Jeb isn’t an arsonist. The fire was an accident. Jeb is sad and angry, but he’s not malicious. What with Jack Benny being . . . you know, Jack Benny,” she said, rolling her eyes, “and the new baby, and the divorce, can you blame him? He’s been through a lot.”
Lydia Dale nodded. “The divorce . . . it all started with the divorce.”
“No, ma’am,” Mary Dell said firmly. “It all started when you married that good-for-nothing varmint. Jack Benny is lazy, he’s a drunk, he chases women, and he’s so low he’d have to look up to see hell. I know it’s been rough, but divorcing him was the smartest thing you’ve done in a decade.”
“It wasn’t like he left me with a lot of other options,” Lydia Dale said.
“Then why are you blaming yourself?” Mary Dell punched her gently in the shoulder and then followed up with a quick hug. “It’s going to be all right in the end. Jeb’s a good boy. He’s just a little confused.”
“And I ran off the one person who was helping him get unconfused. What’s wrong with me? How could I have talked to Graydon like that? Accused him of being a drunk and a liar and kicked him off the place. How?”
“Because,” Mary Dell said, “you’ve been lied to before. And because the sight of all those liquor bottles scared you something awful—almost as much as the thought of being in love.”
Lydia Dale tipped her head back and looked up at Mary Dell. “How come you know so much?”
“Well, I’m smarter than I look. Also, I’m your sister; I know you pretty well by now. We were wombmates, remember?”
“Guess that explains it,” she said with a little smile, then began chewing at her thumbnail, staring vacantly across the room.
“How am I going to tell Jeb that Graydon is gone and won’t be coming back? He’s either going to blame himself or blame me.”
She sighed. “I hope it’s me.”