The other man nodded, a muscle in his cheek working. “I’m leaving,” he blurted. “Tomorrow.”
Stunned, Brock wasn’t sure how to respond. “You’re leaving? What do you mean?”
“I’m leaving Mrs. Bell, Anniversary, everything.” He waved his hand vaguely. “All of this is way too painful. I can’t take it anymore.”
“But what about your wife?” Brock sputtered. “She’s already hurting over Shayna’s disappearance. Think about what this will do to her.”
The other man’s face seemed to close in on itself. “I have thought of that, believe me. But I can’t help thinking it will hurt her worse if I stay.”
“Worse? How can it be worse than that? And what about when Shayna comes back? How’s she going to feel when she finds her daddy has taken off?”
“If Shayna comes back,” Marshall said, his voice full of the same weariness revealed by his rounded shoulders and defeated posture. “As to that, I can’t help but feel if she didn’t care enough to say goodbye, what will it matter to her who’s here when she returns? Look after them for me, will you?”
He waved away any comment Brock might have attempted to make. Moving laboriously, as though he’d aged twenty years in the space of minutes, he gave Brock a bleak smile.
“Why are you telling me this?” Brock asked as he followed him to the door.
“Because you care,” Mr. Bell said. “I have to let someone know, and you’re the closest thing I have to a son. As far as I can tell, you might be the only one holding this family together by the time all of this is over.”
Those words haunted him. For the rest of the afternoon, as he loaded pickup trucks with bags of feed, sold bridles and bits, hay and birdseed, Brock tried to figure out what the hell Mr. Bell was thinking. If he did leave, the fallout would be tremendous. Poor Mrs. Bell, who was one of the nicest, kindest women in town. She would be devastated.
And Zoe? She considered the Bells her family. Mr. Bell was the closest thing to a father she’d ever had. How would she take his desertion?
Just like that, the old pain came roaring back. Zoe’d left him, and he’d foolishly believed he’d recovered. Now he realized what he’d done was survive, nothing more. And despite the fact that his and Shayna’s relationship hadn’t worked out, he didn’t understand how she could do the exact same thing. To him or to her family. And now this. Marshall Bell was beating a fast track out of town.
Wherever she’d gone, Shayna needed to come home now. If she didn’t, she might return to Anniversary some day and find she had nothing left to come back for.
The rest of the afternoon dragged. After finally turning the Open sign to Closed, Brock locked up the feed store and tried to decide whether he wanted to grab some fast food for dinner or cook something himself.
Or he could make another trip to the sheriff’s office and see if there was anything else they could do to help find Shayna. He’d been there several times already, as had Mama Bell. He’d learned that adults have the right to leave without telling anyone where they are going, who they are with or why they left. According to Roger Giles, the sheriff, without evidence of foul play, they had to balance the missing person’s legal right to do what they liked and the family’s natural desire to make sure their loved one was all right.
In other words, the information would sit in a file and, beyond the occasional phone call to see if Shayna had come home, little else would be done.
While Brock didn’t like it, he could see Roger’s point.
More weary than he’d been in ages, he decided he’d figure something out on the drive home.
Instead, he found himself turning onto the Bells’ street. As he coasted to a stop in front of the neat ranch-style house, he debated whether he really wanted to go inside. Not only was Mr. Bell’s secret weighing him down, but he wasn’t sure he was up to seeing Zoe again.
The decision was taken from him when the front door opened—Mrs. Bell, heading to the mailbox to get the day’s mail. The instant she caught sight of him, she smiled and waved.
“Brock! What are you doing sitting in your truck? Come on inside. I was just about to cook up some of my famous fried chicken.” Her smile wavered slightly. “Who knows, maybe Shayna will smell it and decide to come home.”
Despite himself, his mouth watered and his stomach growled. Mrs. Bell was known all around town for her chicken. It was the best he’d ever had.
Any reservations he might have had vanished, just like that. His stomach won out. He cut the engine and pocketed the keys.
Retrieving her mail, Mrs. Bell chattered all the way up the sidewalk. Apparently, Mr. Bell hadn’t yet told his wife of his plans to leave. Brock wondered if he would.
He held the door open so Mrs. Bell could go inside.
Zoe glanced up as they entered the room. Surprise flashed across her face when she saw Brock, but almost immediately she schooled her features into an expression of polite interest. “Brock,” she said. “What are you doing here?”
“I stopped by after work to check on ya’ll, and Mrs. Bell invited me to dinner.” He kept his response equally civil. “When she mentioned she was making her chicken, I couldn’t pass it up.”
“Oh, look at this!” Mrs. Bell held up a flyer, passing it to Brock. “Looks like Cristine is having a get-together tomorrow over at the high school.”
Brock nodded, reading the leaflet quickly. Maybe if he kept himself busy while he was here, not only would he not have to wonder if Shayna had left because of him, but he also wouldn’t have to look at Zoe and wonder what might have been.
“A get-together?” Zoe’s voice jolted him out of his thoughts. “Why on earth—”
“Wrong choice of words,” Mrs. Bell said, lifting one shoulder in apology. “Cristine is calling a meeting to organize a search for our Shayna. Even if she took off on her own, maybe Cristine can help locate her.”
Closing her mouth, Zoe nodded. To Brock’s surprise, she glanced at him, almost as if seeking his opinion. The instant her vibrant brown eyes met his, he felt a slow burn begin in his blood. Did she feel it, too? How could she not?
But her glance flitted away almost as quickly, and he knew he’d been wrong. Zoe didn’t feel anything for him. She never had.
“Are you going?” Mrs. Bell asked, taking the flyer from him and passing it to Zoe.
“We’ll go,” Brock found himself saying, replying for both of them even though he had no right.
“Of course, we’ll go,” Zoe interjected. “We all want to help find Shayna as quickly as possible.”
Since there was nothing Brock could add to that, he nodded.
“Well, I’d better get busy frying up some chicken.” Mrs. Bell headed toward the kitchen.
“I’ll help,” Zoe said, letting the flyer flutter to the floor as she jumped to her feet. She hurried away, leaving him alone in the oak-paneled living room.
He picked up the flyer and read it again. While he’d never really liked Cristine, he found it commendable that she cared enough about her friend to do something to try to find her. The skeptical part of him wondered if Cristine just missed having someone to party with, but in truth, her motives didn’t matter. Finding Shayna was what mattered. Even if she had just climbed onto the back of some guy’s motorcycle, she needed to understand the worry she’d caused her family.
Again,