Chapter Three
Noelle fastened her seatbelt and settled the thermos beside her as Nathan pulled out of her driveway. She fished her cell phone out from her purse then punched in Cecil’s home number. When a stranger answered, she asked about the status of the search and was told Carissa had not yet been found.
“Thanks.” She disconnected. “Nothing yet.”
“We can try again in a little while.”
She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. Oh, Carissa, where are you?
Nathan’s warm hand touched her arm. “You okay?”
She nodded as tears stung behind her closed lids. “I’m fine. Carissa will be, too.”
His hand tightened. “You know that for sure?”
She opened her eyes and looked at him, hearing the odd note in his voice. “I’m praying it’s true.” She hadn’t stopped praying since Nathan had broken the news to her. Actually, she’d been praying before that.
He nodded and returned his attention to the road.
She knew this drive well, all the rolling hills, stark cliffs and misty valleys that stretched from Springfield to Branson on Highway 65, and then west on 76 to the Hideaway turnoff. These wooded Ozark hills kept their secrets well.
She closed her eyes, once again picturing her young cousin’s smiling face, her mischievous blue eyes and shoulder-length ringlets of soft brown hair. Oh, Carissa.
Tears smarted Noelle’s eyes again, and she straightened in her seat. “Tell me about the search. Where have they looked? How many are helping?”
“No one has rested,” Nathan said. “Not even Aunt Pearl. They’ve combed Cedar Hollow from end to end. The police, the forest rangers, even some local guardsmen were called to help.”
“So you’re saying they called out the guards before they called me?” That stung, and yet she knew this wasn’t the time to allow her personal feelings to become involved. She’d called the Coopers last night from the store, and left a message on their machine.
“Sorry.”
“How’s Aunt Pearl holding up?” Noelle asked. Her sixty-seven-year-old great-aunt Pearl lived on the original family homestead, about a quarter mile from Cecil’s home. Cecil and his family lived in the same sprawling two-story house in which he had grown up, halfway between Pearl’s house and the sawmill. Ordinarily, a sawmill would need to be situated closer to civilization, but Cooper’s had been in operation for over fifty years, with an excellent reputation. It never lacked for business.
“I’ve hardly seen anything of her,” Nathan said. “She’s obviously upset.”
“How’s her heart?”
“She’s strong as an ox, you know that. I wouldn’t be surprised to discover she’s covered the whole property on foot herself.”
“Surely there have been places the searchers have missed,” Noelle said. “Nobody could possibly cover all two thousand acres in one night. Who, besides the guards and police, is searching?”
“Thirty people from regional search-and-rescue squads, plus the Cooper sawmill employees. Dane Gideon came over with his ranch hands before I left this morning, and as the word’s spread, the churches got involved. Everyone has combed the woods as thoroughly as possible, then started over again. When I left this morning, it looked as if there were more people than trees in that forest.”
Noelle felt a rush of gratitude for the strong community that had always been a part of Hideaway, and the surrounding countryside, and once again tears filled her eyes. “And family?”
“Cecil stays out there all the time. He won’t eat, won’t even sit down for a short rest.”
Noelle could easily believe that. The paternal instinct ran strong in her cousin. “What about Melva?” she asked. Cecil’s second wife had always adored Carissa and Justin. Indeed, the family joked that Melva had married Cecil because she’d wanted to mother his children.
“She’s not holding up well at all,” Nathan said.
Noelle closed her eyes and willed herself not to let the tears fall. Why hadn’t they returned her call last night? She stayed up late waiting and praying, until she’d finally received assurance that everything would be okay. But now? Where was all that holy assurance now?
“Your sister’s been keeping a close eye on Melva,” Nathan said. “Typical Jill.”
Noelle sighed and turned her head to stare out the passenger window, across a rare open valley. “Jill didn’t call me.”
Nathan didn’t reply.
Noelle gave him a sharp glance. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Maybe you should have a talk with Jill when we get there.”
“Why?” She studied his expression. His attention remained on the road, hands at the ten and two position on the steering wheel, back straight, a sure sign he was covering. “Let me guess. She told everyone not to call me.”
He grimaced.
“She did!”
“She said you had a lot going on right now, and this would be too much for you.”
Noelle scowled and crossed her arms over her chest. She should have known better than to tell her sister about Joel’s return. Now Jill was all distressed, begging Noelle to scamper back home to Hideaway with her tail between her legs, like a whipped cur. Again. Jill to the rescue. Again. But Noelle didn’t need rescuing this time.
“She’s only concerned for your welfare,” he said.
“Don’t even start with that, Nathan. I’m thirty-six. She still sees me as a seven-year-old child who’s lost her mother. For Pete’s sake, that was twenty-nine years ago.” And Jill never seemed to remember that she’d lost her mother, too.
“She mentioned that you had a difficult time after the sawmill accident.”
“Sure I did. So did everyone else. It was shocking and horrible, and Jill didn’t even take time to grieve. She was too busy taking care of everyone else. Come on, Nathan, she’s pulling the big-sister act again. It isn’t healthy for her or anyone else. And besides, that accident was ten years ago. I wasn’t exactly in the best mental state at the time.”
Ten years ago, Noelle and Jill had lost their father and grandparents in an accident at the sawmill when a load of cedar logs had fallen off a flatbed truck, crushing them. Four years later, Cecil’s wife—Justin and Carissa’s mother—had suddenly left home, abandoning her family. Two years ago, a tornado had ripped through Cedar Hollow, barely sparing the homes and sawmill. Some people said Cedar Hollow was cursed. Sometimes, Noelle agreed.
From her peripheral vision, Noelle saw Nathan give her a brief glance. “You’ve lost weight,” he said.
“Thank you for noticing.”
“Haven’t been eating?”
She shook her head. “I needed to lose the weight anyway, but I guess I’ve been a little on edge the past couple of weeks, what with Joel back in town.”
There was an expressive silence, and she could have bitten her tongue. Apparently, Jill hadn’t shared that tidbit with Nathan.
“You didn’t tell me.” There was a note of accusation in his voice.
She felt an uncomfortable nudge of guilt. She reminded herself firmly that there was no reason to feel guilty. “Now you’re beginning to sound like Jill.”
“Okay,