“Yes, but I mean if Nick is— If he’s—”
But Abby wouldn’t allow Louise to say it. “They’ll find them,” she said, and she believed it with all her heart.
* * *
Jake didn’t make it to the ranch until late on Wednesday, three days after the rain stopped. By then much of the power in the area had been restored, and most of the primary roads and highways were open. Abby saw him from the porch and went down the steps to meet him, and once he was out of his car, she hugged him to her, fiercely, and he allowed it.
“Anything?” He stepped out of her embrace, looked anxiously down into her face.
She shook her head and, reaching up, traced her fingertips across his brow. Although he had her paler coloring, he had Nick’s dark hair, and he was as tall as Nick and as broad-shouldered. In fact, Jake’s resemblance to his dad had never been clearer to her than it was now, and somehow it hurt her even as it pleased and relieved her. She said, “The helicopter’s gone up several times, but there’s no sign of them or the Jeep.”
Abby had asked the search and rescue pilots to take her up with them. She said she would have a better chance of spotting the Cherokee from the air than they would—it was her car, after all—but they refused, politely. Still, she was hopeful. She thought they would keep going, keep trying, and she was dumbfounded when a few days after Jake’s arrival, they packed up and left as if their job was done. Jake was angry. He asked to borrow George’s pickup to continue the effort on his own.
“I’ll take you,” George said. “That way you can look while I drive. We’ll go until you want to stop.”
Kate said she would drive Abby into town, and they went along slowly, giving Abby ample time to examine the roadsides. Kate’s kindness, and George’s, their patience with Abby and Jake, moved Abby to tears. She tried to thank Kate, and when she couldn’t, Kate took her hand. She knew. She said, “It’s all right.”
They arrived in Bandera and joined an uneasy crowd gathered on Main Street, where it looked down toward Highway 16, and they stared in dumb amazement at the Medina River still pouring itself out of its banks and over the highway intersection.
* * *
A week went by and then another, and the earth baked and dried under a heedless sun and gave them nothing. Abby would never remember much about that time, the losing-hope time is how she would come to think of it. She couldn’t look at Jake; she couldn’t meet her own eyes in the mirror. She didn’t want to know what their sort of despair looked like.
Kate brought it up, though, one day as they were driving back to the ranch after yet another fruitless roadside search. She touched Abby’s knee and said, “You know I love you, chickie, right? That I would only ever want what’s best for you—you and Jake.”
Abby’s stomach knotted. But. Abby heard Kate’s but. And that meant advice was coming, or else Kate would treat Abby to the awful revelation she lived in constant dread of receiving. But it was neither of those things. Instead Kate said she was worried about Jake, worried how long he and Abby could keep it up.
“The search, you mean?” Abby’s comprehension was as swift as her sense of offense. “I guess as long as it takes, but I understand if you’re tired of it, of us.”
“No! Abby, that isn’t what I meant at all. It’s just it’s so hard on you and Jake, going through this day after day. You don’t know how long—I’m just saying, it’s been almost three weeks. You aren’t working now, but Jake has school. Maybe he should go back, try to put some routine back into his life. Please say you aren’t mad.”
“I’m not.” Abby sighed and wiped her face. “I know you’re right.”
“Oh, Abby.” Kate reached for Abby’s hand, and when she met Abby’s glance, her eyes were brimming.
* * *
Jake argued at first. He didn’t care about school; he didn’t care if he lost the semester. He lay on the sofa in Kate and George’s study, his big feet hanging off the end, and said, “I can’t concentrate anyway.”
“But there’s nothing you can do here,” Abby said. “Wait, that’s all.”
Jake sat up. “I told Dad the weather was going to be bad.”
“You did?” Abby sat at George’s desk. “I did, too. Don’t blame him, okay?”
“I wish I’d gone with them.”
“Oh, no, Jake. Thank God, you didn’t. Why would you say that?”
“If I had, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.”
“What do you mean?” Abby looked closely at him, feeling somehow alarmed.
“Nothing,” he said. “I don’t know.” He ran his hands down his thighs. “I should have—”
“Should have what?” she prompted sharply.
But Jake either wouldn’t explain, or he couldn’t. “Nothing,” he repeated, and he lay back, folding his elbow over his eyes. He said she was right, that he should get back to campus. “I’ll go tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay,” Abby answered, but it was too easy. There should have been more of an argument, and somehow the lack of one provoked her into pushing him. “Jake? If you know something—”
“Like what would I know?” He lifted his arm to frown at her.
“What did Dad tell you about the trip? Did he give you a special reason he wanted to go?”
“He just said he wanted me and Linds to go camping on the Guadalupe; he wanted us to hang out and fish like we used to. He said stuff like he knew he hadn’t always been the greatest dad. I thought it was weird, if you want to know.”
“Weird?”
“It was like he was apologizing. I thought maybe he was trying to make up for ragging on me about law school and for missing freshman orientation.”
“He had to be in court that day.”
“Come on, Mom. You and I both know if I had signed up for pre-law, Dad would have found someone to cover for him. He would have made it to orientation; he would’ve broken his neck.”
“He was disappointed, that’s all.” Abby kept Jake’s gaze.
“What?”
She hesitated and then against her better judgment said what she was thinking, that sometimes she wondered why Nick was so adamant for Jake to go to law school in the first place. “It’s not as if he’s always been thrilled with that career himself.”
“Yeah,” Jake said. “I noticed.”
Of course he’d noticed; children were notorious for their perception of their parents. It was foolish to think you could hide much of anything from them.
“Dad was pretty pumped about being a lawyer when he won all that money for those little kids. Remember? He nailed those guys; he put them down. His closing argument—” Jake paused.
“He was great, wasn’t he?” Abby said softly.
“Yeah.”
Jake and Abby had attended the final day of the trial. It had been Jake’s idea. Somehow he’d sensed Nick needed them to be there. Jake had divined—when Abby had not—the extent to which Nick was invested emotionally in winning for those damaged children. In spite of their differences, Abby knew Nick and Jake shared a bond, they understood each other. She remembered in the wake of the trial, Nick had walked on air, and Jake had thought maybe law school wasn’t such a bad idea after all. But all that had gone sour last fall when an audit turned up the awful fact that a huge chunk of the settlement money was missing, and