JACKSON TENSED AND LISTENED again. A dog’s bark. Faint. At a distance. Abbey?
Coming from where?
“Damn it.” He turned his head, trying to pinpoint a direction. “Sounds like it’s coming from everywhere at once.”
“No,” Carla said, grabbing the backpack and slinging it over her shoulders. “It’s coming from there.” She pointed, then set off, not bothering to see if he’d follow. She knew he would.
Grabbing his own pack, Jackson hitched it onto his back and in a few quick strides caught up to her. “How can you tell?”
“Experience?” She hurried her steps, listening, concentrating. “Instinct? I just know.”
“Works for me,” Jackson muttered, and focused on staying beside her when his instincts were screaming at him to run. Logically, he told himself that it could have been any dog. It didn’t have to be Abbey. But it was and he knew it. Felt it. Which meant that Reese was close, too. Hang on, baby. Daddy’s coming.
They moved deeper into the trees, where the wind didn’t reach, where the air was so still, it felt as though God Himself was holding His breath. Summer heat dripped down Jackson’s back in long lines of sweat, but he hardly noticed. Their footsteps beat out like crazed heartbeats against the leaf- and pine-needle-littered ground. He tried not to think about his little girl, hungry, scared, and unable to shout for help.
He shot a glance to his left and briefly studied Carla’s profile. Her gaze narrowed, jaw set, she looked intense, determined, and he felt better just knowing she was beside him.
“Stop.” She held her arm out to one side, slapping him in the chest.
He froze in place, bowing to her experience, though it cost him. His daughter was out there … somewhere, and he wanted—needed—to get to her. His arms ached to hold her again. Now. This patience thing had never been a big part of his personality and now was no different. Then again, he’d learned a lot these past few weeks with Reese. He’d learned that waiting sometimes brought you what you wanted most, so he forced himself to be still. To be patient, to see what came next, even while he mentally willed Carla to hurry.
Hurry.
His own breathing sounded unnaturally loud in the tense quiet. But then, every sound was magnified. The papery rustle of the leaves overhead. The slide of Carla’s tennis shoe against the earth as she shifted position slightly.
“There it is again,” she whispered, more to herself than him, and started moving at a fast jog. “This way.”
“Right behind you.”
Carla’s senses were on full alert. This was different from a few weeks ago, when she’d walked around with Jackson, looking for that missing man. She was different. She’d faced her demons. Put them behind her instead of holding them close enough to drag her down. She’d admitted to her failures and vowed to start again. Today, she was using every ounce of her skill. Every trick she’d ever picked up on disaster sites. And making up a few new ones as she went. Today, she was searching not only with her eyes, but with her heart.
She felt Jackson’s rising sense of urgency and sympathized, though she wouldn’t encourage it. Right here, right now, she was the expert; he was the parent. She needed to keep him calm. Hell, they both needed to be calm. Focused. Later, when Reese was safe, then they could each take the time to quietly fall apart.
The distant barking was closer now, yet at the same time, it sounded fainter, weaker. And so damn familiar. Abbey. Another twinge of worry settled around her heart, this one not for the child, but for the dog. At her belt, the walkie-talkie bristled and hissed like a nest of snakes. But she didn’t have time to snatch it free and call to anyone.
Right now, the most important thing was to reach Reese. And Abbey. Later, there’d be time to assess the situation and call in to base to alert everyone else and get help if they needed it.
Carla sprinted forward, running through the trees, not concerned at all about Jackson keeping up. His footsteps pounded out behind her like a reassuring heartbeat in the night. While she ran, her mind clicked off landmarks, pinpointing their location. She heard the dog again and turned left, heading down a leafy slope, toward the huge, jagged pile of stones known to the locals as Castle Rock. Carla gasped and stopped dead.
Jackson ran smack into her and they both staggered. Then he looked beyond her and in an instant pushed past her.
“Reese!”
The little girl looked up at them with tears streaking down her dirty face. Her overalls were ripped and torn, black dirt staining the knees. Leaves and dirt dotted her hair and her bottom lip was bleeding. She sat on the ground, at the base of the rocky structure, Abbey’s head in her lap.
Abbey woofed in greeting, then lay still.
A stunning, crashing relief poured through Jackson. Reese was hurt. But she was alive.
“The rocks,” Carla warned as he stepped past her.
“Yeah.” He tossed a glance at the small mountain of stones, none of which looked real stable. And even as he thought it, a scattering of pebbles smacked and danced their way down the mass. “It’s okay, baby,” he said, keeping his voice quiet. “You’re okay now. Daddy’s here. Everything’s fine.”
Two steps, three, and he was crouching beside his little girl. His thumbs brushed away the dirty tear tracks on her face and he stared into Reese’s big blue eyes as his heartbeat slowly returned to normal. Carla was there beside him, expertly running her hands over the child’s head and neck, her arms, her legs.
An eternity later, Carla looked up at him. “I think she’s okay, but we should move her away from these rocks.”
“Right.”
He picked his daughter up gently, moved her back from the rock wall, and set her down again. Then he hurried back to Carla and, after her nod of approval, helped her move the dog to safety as well.
Then he went to Reese again, wanting to reassure himself that she was fine. He knelt in front of her and she reached for him, catching his face between her small hands.
“What is it, sweetie?” Jackson covered her hands with his and gave silent thanks for the chance to be able to hold her again.
Her mouth opened and closed, slowly, awkwardly, like a creaky, rarely used door. Fresh tears coursed down her cheeks, her bottom lip quivered shakily, and she swallowed hard.
He watched her, wanting to help, not knowing what she needed. Frustration tore at him.
Then she inhaled sharply and blurted, “Daddy…”
Stunned to his soul, Jackson shuddered with the impact of that soft, scratchy voice. It had been so long, he’d nearly forgotten what Reese’s voice sounded like. Now it was raw and unsteady and beautiful. And the sweet sound of it nearly broke his heart. Tears stung his eyes, his throat closed around a knot the size of Texas, and he felt as though he couldn’t draw air into suddenly heaving lungs.
Miracles. He’d been blessed with miracles.
“Reese—” Grinning now, Jackson shot a fast look at Carla, saw his own surprise mirrored on her face, then turned back to his daughter. “Reese honey, you’re talking.” Dumb, Jackson. She knows she’s talking. “Are you all right?”
She ignored the question. “Abbey’s hurt.”
“I know, honey.” He glanced at the big dog and saw Carla was giving the golden the same careful check she’d given Reese. But the expression on Carla’s face told him she wasn’t happy with what she was finding. Torn now, Jackson’s heart ached for Carla and at the same time he wanted to celebrate. His little girl had come back from the darkness.
Giving him a small smile of understanding, Carla stroked Abbey’s neck, then eased backward, distancing herself from all of them as she pulled her walkie-talkie out and pressed the button.
“Daddy!” Reese patted his face insistently until he turned back to watch the sorrow in her eyes. She swallowed again and said, “I climbed the rocks so I could see. There’s too many trees an’ they’re too big an’ I’m too little so I got lost.” Jackson hurt all over at those three little words, but she wasn’t finished. “An’ I fell down and then lots and lots of rocks started falling and Abbey pushed me out of the way and then a big rock hit her and she … she … cried.”
“Ah, baby…”
“An’ it’s my fault!” Reese wailed, and the pitch her voice reached brought a chill to Jackson’s spine, lifting the small hairs at the back of his neck. “Just like when Mommy died.”
Everything in him went cold and still as he stared at Reese. Jesus. Guilt and pain shone in her eyes and she hiccuped around a fresh batch of tears as she kept talking. It was as if, silent for so long, now that she’d started speaking, she couldn’t stop. She had to say everything she’d been holding in for the last year.
“Baby, your mommy’s accident wasn’t your fault,” Jackson broke in, but she wasn’t listening.
“It was raining and Mommy told me to be quiet so she could consecrate an’”—she pulled in a jerky breath and hunched her shoulders as if trying to hide from her own words—“an’ I didn’t be quiet and I called her and called her and then she turned around to look at me and that big truck came and Mommy died. She died ’cause I didn’t be quiet and I’ve been real quiet since then, but she didn’t come back and now I hurt Abbey and—”
A knife blade of pain stabbed at him and Jackson pulled her close, felt her thin arms wrap around his neck and hang on as if she were dangling from a cliff. He patted her back and soothed her with the words he should have said so long ago. But he hadn’t known. Hadn’t even guessed that his child was torturing herself with the same guilt that had eaten away at him.
“You didn’t do anything, baby,” he whispered, and eased back so that she could look into his eyes and know he was telling her the truth. “It wasn’t your fault, Reese. The accident. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. Oh, baby, you had nothing to do with it. It was a terrible thing, but you didn’t cause it. Nobody did.” And as he tried to help his daughter, he saw and felt the real truth himself. “It just … was. It happened, baby, but not because of you.”
She let go of him long enough to run one hand under her nose. “Mommy’s not coming back, is she?”
“No, baby,” he said, and kissed her cheeks, her forehead, the tip of her nose. “She’s not. But I’m here. I’m right here with you. And you’re safe.”
She pulled in another long breath and let it go in a soft rush. “I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you, too, baby,” he whispered, stroking her tears away with the pads of his thumbs.
She looked back over her shoulder and asked, “But what about Abbey, Daddy? Is Abbey gonna die, too?”
“I hope not, baby.”
God, he hoped not. But it didn’t look good. The big dog was lying still. Breath moved in and out of her lungs, but she’d made no attempt to get up. And a few feet away, Carla murmured into the walkie-talkie and paced, pushing her hand through her hair.
“We hafta help Abbey,” Reese said.
“We will.” He stood up and walked to Carla while Reese scooted over to take up position alongside the golden again.
Carla swallowed back her fear and said into the walkie-talkie, “Thanks, Tony. And hurry, okay?” When Jackson appeared beside her, she blinked back the tears crowding her eyes and tried for brave.
It didn’t work.
“Is she hurt bad?” Jackson asked.
“One leg’s broken. As for internally, I don’t know.” Her gaze drifted to where the little girl sat, patiently stroking the dog’s head, whispering words of comfort. “I called for help. Tony’s coming. Bringing a doctor. And a vet.”
It was Jackson’s obvious pain that broke through her own. Even in his joy with his child, he worried about her. Taking his hand, she said, “Don’t feel bad, Jackson. Not now. You’ve got your daughter back. She’s safe. She’s talking again.”
“But Abbey got hurt ’cause a me,” Reese said, and Carla turned to look at the little girl’s tormented expression.
“No, sweetie.” Drawing Jackson along with her, Carla walked toward the dog she’d loved and worked with for years and the little girl who’d become a part of her heart. Crouching down, Carla took a seat opposite Reese, and as the child stroked Abbey’s head, Carla laid her own hand atop the girl’s.
Abbey whimpered, flopped her tail half-heartedly, then lay still again.
An ache pulsed in time with Carla’s heartbeat, but she needed to make sure Reese didn’t pick up another burden to carry on her narrow shoulders. “It’s not your fault.” She took a deep breath, steadied her voice, and put every ounce of conviction she possessed into her words. “Abbey did what she was trained to do, Reese. What her heart told her to do.”
A single tear rolled down the girl’s cheek.
Carla felt Jackson’s hand come down on her shoulder and she welcomed the heat of his touch. It seemed to slip inside her to where the cold, scared child within her cowered.
“Abbey saved you, Reese. She loves you. She was taking care of you. Just as she’s always done.” Sweet, brave, gentle-hearted dog. “She wouldn’t want you to be sad.”
“But if she dies like Mommy did then I can’t see her anymore.” Sorrow glimmered in the child’s eyes and Carla didn’t try to erase it. Even children needed to grieve. To feel pity and pain. And to become stronger for it.
“No, you won’t,” she said softly, refusing to lie to Reese, unwilling to give her false hope. “But you’ll always remember her.” As I will. Always, Abbey.
“Uh-huh.”
“And you’ll have your daddy.”
“And she’ll have you, Carla,” Jackson said, his deep voice reverberating around them. He reached out and covered both of their hands with his. “You’ll have both of us, Reese. And no matter what happens, we’ll get through it, together.”
Carla just stared at him. Her heart breaking, mind spinning, she looked into his lake-blue eyes and saw the promise of tomorrow. “Jackson…”
“I love you, Carla,” he said.
Carla glanced at Reese and the little girl gave her a watery smile. Then she turned back to Jackson as he went on.
“You are the best thing that ever happened to me. To us.” He shifted a quick look at his daughter, then at their joined hands before shifting his gaze back to Carla’s. “I’m tired of living in the past. I want a future. With you. Here, in this place.”
Warmth fought past the chill in her bones and spread throughout her body, filling her with hope, love, and a joy she’d never known before. And despite the worry over her injured dog, that happiness blossomed within her.
“I love you, too,” she said, wanting him to know that, believe it—yet what if he was only saying this because of the emotions in the moment? “But—”
“No,” he said, and leaned forward to place a quick, hard kiss on her mouth. “No buts. No guilt. No running. Not anymore. Maybe this isn’t the most romantic proposal on record.…”
She blinked. “Proposal?”
He shook his head. “I must really suck at this if you couldn’t guess what I was trying to say. Yes, it’s a proposal. Because I need you, Carla. We need you.”
“Jackson,” she said, and he cut her off again.
“Marry me.”
“What?” She sat back on her heels, staring at him.
“Just say yes. Don’t think about it. We’ve both done too much thinking in the past. This time, just trust your heart. Trust my heart.” His gaze moved over her with a slow sweet stroke that touched her more deeply than any words could. Okay, maybe it wasn’t romantic. But it was real. She saw it in his eyes. Heard it in his voice. Felt it in the warmth of his hand atop hers.
And that made it perfect.
“I love you.” He said it again, emphasizing the words. “I want to marry you and love you for the rest of my life. Say yes, Carla, and help me build the kind of family that will keep us all safe. And happy.”
Carla swallowed back the lump in her throat and looked at Reese. The little girl was smiling through her tears and Carla’s heart twisted. Wasn’t this life, though? she thought. Reese safe, but Abbey injured. Things were so rarely good or bad, but more often a weird mixture of the two. Pain and joy came together and Carla knew it was important to grab happiness when the chance for it appeared.
In a few short weeks, her life had been turned upside down, shaken up, and finally, magically, set right.
And even a Candellano knew when not to argue.
She looked into those incredibly blue eyes of his and, smiling through her tears, said simply, “Yes.”