Jess looked up from his computer screen when Betty walked into his office the next morning, her face a mask of worry. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing... Not really. It’s just... I just can’t help worrying about that granddaughter of mine. Here it’s already Christmas Eve tomorrow and Lindsey hasn’t even called. Either she’s the most thoughtless mother ever or something terrible has happened to her.”
He rounded the desk and took her arm as she settled into one of the club chairs, then he sat next to her. “I’ve been worried, too. I tried calling her stepmother this morning but didn’t get an answer. And I also checked in again with the Los Angeles Police Department to see if they knew anything. But it’s always the same. Nothing.”
“I want her to be safe and well. Truly I do.” Betty gripped his arm. “But what if she takes those little girls back to California? Can you imagine? I still can’t believe they were left alone in that apartment overnight. In a closet. Who would do such a terrible thing? And what about the bruises they had? I’d rather run away with them myself than let that happen again.”
He rested his hand on top of hers. “I’m going to do my best to make sure it doesn’t. I promise you that.”
“I’ve been praying about this every day. But I suppose I started worrying more lately because I thought Lindsey would have shown up by now. And surely by Christmas, don’t you think?” She wearily rose to her feet. “I’d better get back to the kitchen and finish my pies. Sorry if I bothered you.”
“You are never a bother, Grandma.” He gave her a kiss on her cheek. “If you need any help tasting those pies, just give me a shout.”
As she hobbled toward the door with her cane, the twins peeked into his office, their eyes wide. Then he heard them thunder down the hallway.
The last two days they’d either been scampering through the house with their puppy or shaking presents under the Christmas tree, all the more excited because Christmas Eve was just around the corner. And probably a little stir-crazy, too, with all of the snow and cold keeping them inside.
Christmas. Because of the twins, he was more excited about it this year than he’d been in all the years since he’d grown up. He just hoped it would be perfect for everyone.
Yet—like Grandma Betty, he’d been worrying. A lot.
He’d prayed more this winter than he had since he was a child. He’d been trying to just give those worries over to God and trust that the right answers would come. That the two innocent little girls would be safe and secure...and that their troubled mother would be, too.
But there seemed to be no perfect answer. And no one would be left unscathed if a custody battle ensued. He just hoped God—with His infinite wisdom—had it all worked out.
* * *
Abby finished wrapping a present in her room and carried the small stack out to the Christmas tree to join the others she’d placed there earlier.
She lowered the volume of the Christmas instrumental music and suddenly realized that the entire house was quiet. Too quiet.
She took a quick walk down the hall to Betty’s room, but she was snoozing and no little girls seemed to be hiding there. Her own room. The extra guest rooms. The twins’ bedroom.
Nothing.
Concerned now, she searched the other rooms on the main floor, then even searched the unfinished basement.
The shadows outside were growing longer—and it would soon be dark. Gusts of wind lifted and swirled the snow drifts outside, and the temp was already dropping into the minus digits. It would be an evening to stay nice and warm inside. Where were they?
She glanced back at the kitchen and the little coat pegs set at child height. Her heart skipped a beat. Their coats and boots were gone.
“Jess! Jess!”
He reached the kitchen before she had a chance to grab her coat.
“The girls—I can’t find them anywhere. Their coats are gone. They’ve never gone outside alone. And it’s cold, and it’s getting dark—”
He rested his hands on her shoulders. “I’ll go outside and start in the horse barn. I want you to check the house one more time and then come out. Okay?”
She nodded, fighting back her tears. “Why would they take off like this?”
“Don’t worry. We’ll keep looking till we find them.”
He sounded confident...but she saw his stricken gaze swerve to the living-room windows overlooking a thousand acres of pastures, hayfields and pine forest and knew exactly what he was thinking.
It wouldn’t take long for two little girls to become disoriented in the snow. To fall. To find comfort in that soft, fluffy blanket of white...
She spun around and came face to face with Betty. “I can’t find the twins. Please—help me search the house.”
The two of them methodically searched every hiding place, then Abby grabbed her coat and boots. “Turn on all of the lights so they can see the house if they’re outside. You stay here in case they come back, and I’m going out to help Jess.”
Abby raced out to the horse barn where she found Jess ransacking the tack room and laundry, checking every nook and cranny.
“I’ll check the hay stall. They have a fort in there.” She ran to the hay stall and pulled open the sliding door. “Girls? Are you in here? Bella! Sophie!”
Nothing stirred.
She reached between the bales that had been stacked wider apart to create a little fort, then pulled some of them away for a better look. She pivoted back toward the aisle, defeated. “I thought for sure they would be in there.”
Jess went on to the other barn and the machine shed, while Abby checked every stall. Every storage closet.
It was fully dark outside now. Her heart hammering in her chest, Abby started toward the indoor arena. Surely they wouldn’t have dared to go into that cavernous, dark place, when they were too short to reach the light switches. Would they?
She heard a door creak open behind her and the puppy came down the aisle, all tail wags and kisses as he bounced against her. Then Betty appeared, bundled up in a heavy coat with her cane in her hand. “I thought the pup might help if the girls are hiding.”
Abby said a silent prayer as she opened the arena door and switched on the banks of overhead lights. It was cold out here as the thermostat was always turned off overnight. Even with the lights, the corners were dark and foreboding.
Poofy raced past her, running in ever-widening circles in the arena. Then he stopped. Cocked his head. And flew over the stack of hay where the kittens usually hid. He scrambled up the bales and poked his head into a space, wagging his tail.
Whispering yet another prayer, Abby hoped he’d found the girls and not a pile of sleepy kittens. “Bella! Sophie! Come out here, right now. Everyone is worried about you.”
The puppy pawed at the hay and whined, and eventually the girls appeared, their hats askew and their faces streaked with tears. “We don’t wanna go away,” Sophie cried. “Don’t make us.”
Abby grabbed her cell phone from her jacket pocket and sent Jess a text, then rushed over and enveloped them in an embrace. “Dear Lord, thank You so much,” she whispered as she led them back to the warmth of the horse barn.
She knelt in front of them and brushed off the hay clinging to their jackets, then pulled them into another embrace when they started to sob. But what could she promise them, when no one here knew what the future would hold? “Sweeties, your Uncle Jess and Grandma Betty will always love you. You know that, don’t you?”
Betty came up beside them and Abby looked up at her. “I don’t know what this was all about, but it’s going to be the happiest Christmas ever now that we’ve found them.”
“I think I know,” Betty said with a heavy sigh. “And I’m afraid this was all my fault.”
* * *
Back at the house, Betty started a kettle of hot water for cocoa while Abby gave the girls a warm bath and put on their pajamas. When they came back, Betty settled them at the table where she had cookies and cocoa set out.
Jess still looked shaken. He lingered at the table for just a few minutes, then paced the kitchen before going back to his office.
Abby started to go after him, but Betty shook her head. She waited until the girls were done and wandered into the living room to play a game.
“I think he just needs a little time alone.” Betty looked over her shoulder, then lowered her voice. “This whole situation was my fault. I was upset this afternoon, so I went to talk to Jess about Lindsey and that awful time she left the girls alone for so long.” She glanced over her shoulder again. “I think the girls overheard me and it brought back their bad memories. I used to think they wanted nothing more than to go back home. But now I think they want to stay right here. They’re still terrified of Lindsey’s boyfriend, and of being abandoned...and who knows what else.”
“Jess sure took this hard. Not that I blame him. I was terrified, too.”
“He’s a good man, Abby. And such a good dad to those girls.”
Abby closed her eyes, recalling Betty’s revelation about how Jess’s father had cruelly, relentlessly blamed Jess and his brothers for the death of their sister. Yet Jess had somehow overcome those old childhood wounds and fear of responsibility and had taken in two vulnerable little girls in need. And Betty was right. He’d become a loving substitute dad.
She’d seen evidence of it every single day, but their disappearance tonight must have been a harsh reminder of the sister he’d lost and the deep sense of guilt he must’ve shouldered ever since.
“Doesn’t he understand that his sister’s death wasn’t his fault?”
“I’m sure that on an intellectual level he does.” Betty gave Abby a sad smile. “His mother tried to get through to all three boys when they were young. I tried, too. But the trauma was just too devastating to those sweet, caring little boys, and I think it changed them all forever. Some wounds are just too deep to heal.”