Children of the Earth (14 page)

18

“THERE’S A SEARCH PA
RTY ON
for Sheriff Bates and his boy.” Vince Varley stood in the doorless doorway to Doug and Janie’s den. “They’re missing, and the whole town’s out looking for ’em. Are you two coming or not?”

“Coming!” Janie leapt from the couch, where she’d been trying to hold herself still as Doug downed beers and stared vacantly at an obstacle race on ESPN2. Ciaran had dropped her off close to dawn; even though she’d barely slept she felt charged with energy, like she’d been plugged into a wall socket until her internal battery thrummed with life.

It was all because of Ciaran. Ciaran with skin like a beach at sunset, Ciaran whose rainforest-green eyes brimmed with empathy as he drove her to the graveyard where her infant son was buried. Ciaran, who stood aside as she screamed and howled and cried until there was nothing left, until she was empty and clean and new.

Her mind felt clear and sharp, the cloud-cover of her grief wiped away by the cold front that had swept the town in the night. All because of Ciaran: because he had looked at her and listened to her, unfazed by her sadness, willing to let her grieve.

She bounded to her piles of clothes and started pawing through them, looking for something to wear. Ciaran might be out there, and she wanted to look nice. She wanted to make him see her the way she saw him: as someone magical and lovely, someone who suddenly made life seem worth living.

“I need a shower,” she said suddenly, abandoning the clothes. “I’ll be quick, promise.”

“Jeez,” Vince grumbled as she brushed by him. “It’s a search party, not a damn debutante ball.”

Janie stopped midway down the hallway, his words registering for the first time.

“They’re really missing?” She turned to face him.

Vince scowled. “Really. He never came into work, so they searched his house. No sign of him. That old bat Eunice from next door said he always asks her to keep an eye on things when they go out of town, but this time he didn’t say a word.”

“Oh. Well, I’ll hurry up then. You guys go ahead—Doug and I can take his truck.”

“Fine,” Vince grunted. “Just be careful: It’s snowing cats and dogs out there.”

Kernels of worry began to poke at Janie’s good mood as she stepped into the shower and shampooed her hair, shivering in the measly trickle from the mansion’s overworked boiler. What would someone want with the sheriff and Charlie—Charlie, whose big brown eyes and tousled hair always tugged at something in her heart and made her think of the little boy she never got to raise.

But that boy was dead, she reminded herself. Jeremiah was dead, and as much as he would always hold a piece of her heart, she had to accept it and move on. And she could now, she really could, because she was stronger than she realized, stronger than anyone gave her credit for.

Ciaran had taught her that.

She wrapped a towel around her chest and padded back to the den, where Doug’s unfocused gaze was still directed in the general vicinity of the TV.

“Damn it, Doug!” she snapped her fingers. “Didn’t you hear what your dad said? Are you gonna help us find those guys or not?”

“Huh?” Doug’s eyes were bloodshot, his jaw slack. Something was up with him—he wasn’t usually this much of a vegetable, even when he was hungover. “Oh yeah. I guess I’ll, like, put on a jacket or whatever.”

“If you can be bothered.” Janie rolled her eyes, waiting for Doug’s retort, but none came. Instead he lumbered off the couch and shuffled to his room, his feet barely leaving the ground.

Janie didn’t waste any more time worrying about Doug. He would be fine—he always was. Instead she dove for her phone and typed a frantic message to Ciaran. Then she turned back to her clothes.

• • •

The search party was well under way by the time she and Doug pulled into the church parking lot. Flashlight beams danced in the thick, wooded area beyond the lawn, illuminating snowflakes that glittered in the darkness like stars. Through the truck’s windows they could hear faint cries of “Sheriff Bates!” and “Charlie!”— strange nocturnal calls that made the forest seem at once dead and alive.

Janie shook her head, her hair settling in soft waves beneath her pink pom-pom hat. “I can’t believe they’re missing,” she said quietly. Fear for little Charlie ran in a swift, cold current beneath her bubbling excitement.

“Unh,” Doug agreed tonelessly.

“Here,” she handed him a flashlight. “We should split up. We can cover more ground that way. And zip up your jacket, darn it. You’re gonna freeze to death out there.”

Doug looked down at his green puffer jacket, seeming to notice for the first time that he had it on. He was still toying with the zipper as Janie slipped from the truck and hurried toward the woods, following the bouncing beam of her flashlight.

Snowflakes brushed her cheeks, and her breath came in puffs like steam escaping a teakettle, but her insides felt warm, spreading in an even pink glow across her cheeks. She was going to see Ciaran again.

Her flashlight picked up the outline of the tree where they’d agreed to meet, the one with wooden slats on the side leading up to a hunter’s blind. It had been her special place ever since she was a little girl, the place she escaped to when post-church picnics ran long into the afternoon and her pretty pink dresses started to scratch against her legs. She’d never shared it with anyone before, not even Doug.

Ciaran was already there, leaning against the trunk, his hands shoved into the pockets of a faded army jacket. He shielded his face against the glare of her flashlight, but the smile in his emerald eyes made her feet feel like wings, lifting her off the ground and carrying her toward him.

He laughed as she sank into his hug. He smelled like wood smoke and earth, like the autumn leaves decaying to dirt beneath their feet.

“It’s so good to see you,” she said into his chest. She wished they could stay that way all night, the heat from their bodies mingling through layers of coats and clothing. But after a few moments he pulled back and held her at arm’s length, studying her carefully.

“Wow.” His eyebrows inched up. “You’re a new girl.”

He brushed a snowflake off her cheek, and the feeling was strange and spicy, a bubbly mix of anticipation and longing that she hadn’t felt about anyone in a very long time.

“It’s because of you.” She couldn’t stop looking at his face, at his eyes. “Because of last night. Before that—I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I honestly just wanted to die.”

“I know.” His finger traced a path down her cheek, lingering beneath her chin.

“And then you helped me. Why?”

His eyes went dark, or maybe it was just a shadow passing through the woods.

“It doesn’t matter why,” he said quietly.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing.” He shook his head, and the shadow disappeared. “I’m just worried about that missing kid.”

“Me too! We should go look for him.”

“Okay.”

But neither of them moved. Instead they stood still at the base of the tree, facing each other. She knew that they should search for Charlie, and she wanted to, but there was something she wanted even more.

She pulled Ciaran closer, and he complied, wrapping his arms around her waist, sighing as their bodies made contact. The tips of their noses touched, and a tiny spark lit between them, fueled by static electricity from the cold and maybe something else, something that had been inside of them all along. The shock made them leap at the same time. Then they collapsed against each other, smiling with surprise and nervousness and relief at the tiny joke the universe had sent them, a joke that somehow made it even easier to bring their lips together and lose themselves in a kiss as light and delicate as the snowflakes falling all around.

• • •

Daphne’s head ached, and her mouth was dry. She took a long drink from the thermos of steaming soup that Aunt Karen had brought to the courthouse, letting it warm her stomach as the headlights of Floyd’s truck illuminated the fast-falling snow.

“Thanks again for paying my bail,” she said as they pulled into the church parking lot.

“Stop thanking us.” There was a grim cast to Karen’s motherly tone. “We’re family, and we have money now. It’s the Godly thing to do.”

“Are you sure you want to join this search party?” Floyd asked for what had to be the fifth time since they’d picked her up. “You’ve already had a heck of a day.” His bushy white eyebrows were knit with anger; he’d nearly blown a fuse when he found out she’d been implicated in the sheriff’s disappearance.

“I’m sure.” Daphne pulled Floyd’s old hunting cap down over her ears, grateful that he’d thought to bring a spare. She couldn’t bear the thought of Charlie still being at large, missing or possibly worse. Joining the search party felt like the least she could do, even though part of her ached to run home and check her phone for messages from Owen, to see how he’d fared in his undercover mission to the Vein. “Should we meet back here?”

Floyd nodded. “Karen and I will check in the woods across the street. Here, take this.” He handed her a small blue penlight. “It’s dark out there.”

“And be careful!” Karen added.

Daphne kissed each of them on the cheek and opened the door to the truck, her sneakers imprinting the fresh snow as her aunt and uncle started in the other direction.

The trees at the edge of the woods hovered tall and menacing. Dead leaves still clung to their branches, rustling coded warnings in the wind, and a trio of snowflakes landed in cold formation on her nose. There was still time to turn back, she thought as she stepped into the dark overhang. Nobody would judge her—she’d just spent the afternoon in jail. But she knew she wouldn’t be able to rest knowing an innocent young boy was still missing.

The woods surrounded her, draping her in shadows. The penlight grew frigid in her ungloved hand, and dampness soaked through her canvas Chuck Taylors, nibbling at her toes.

A sound, startling in the dark maze of trees, made her freeze in place. It was faint but definitely there: a small whimper, followed by heavy breathing.

She froze, her pulse pounding against her neck. Those sounds could be coming from Charlie—and she didn’t know who else was out there with him. She had to be careful; it was probably best not to let on that she was there.

Slowly, she raised her penlight and trained it around the woods, trees and shadows blending in the thin illumination of her beam. Then she saw it: something moving, a dark clump against one of the trees. Her light caught a mass of cornsilk-colored hair, and the clump broke into two figures, their breath coming in ragged ellipses.

Daphne’s mouth dropped open.

“
Janie?
!
” she gasped.

The figures broke apart.

“What the hell?” Janie squinted into the light, her big blue eyes hardening. Daphne’s heart clenched as she glanced from her cousin to the guy who’d been kissing her—a guy who definitely wasn’t Doug.

Where Doug was all size and neck, this new boy was elfin and delicate. Their eyes met, and a shiver went through her that had nothing to do with the frigid night. She knew those eyes, knew that too-bright-to-be-real shade of green. Janie wasn’t just kissing a stranger. She was kissing one of the Children of the Earth.

Janie clicked on her flashlight, bathing Daphne in a sterile circle of white. Her mouth turned down when she made out her cousin’s face. “What are you doing here?” Her voice was cold.

“Looking for the sheriff and his son.” Daphne tried to keep her tone neutral. “Um, what are
you
doing?”

“That’s none of your business,” Janie said archly. “And if I were you, I’d keep my mouth shut about this. Unless, of course, you want everyone knowing about your little
thing
with Owen.”

“What?” Daphne’s hands started to shake, trembling the beam of her penlight.

Janie rolled her eyes. “I’m not dumb, you know. Even if you and everyone else think I am.”

The boy placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I should go,” he said quietly. “It sounds like you two have some things to work out.”

“No, Ciaran!” Janie grasped his arm. “Don’t. She can go. You stay.”

Ciaran spoke so gently, Daphne had to strain to hear. “You care about each other—and both of you are hurting inside.”

Daphne felt a jolt of discomfort. How did he know how she felt inside?

Janie shook her head. “I just don’t want to deal with her right now.”

“Janie.” Ciaran caught her eyes and held them until she started to cave. “You need this. Like in the graveyard last night. Do this for you, not me. I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”

Her features softened as she looked up at him. “Okay.” The word came out in a feathery sigh.

He took her hand and brushed her fingertips lightly before turning and walking toward Daphne, heading back the way she’d come.

Ciaran’s eyes met Daphne’s for a moment as he stepped past her, and she felt something pass between them, a subtle current of understanding. She sensed that he could tell that she knew who and what he was, and in turn he recognized her. He nodded once, the way an athlete would nod to someone from the opposing team. The way you’d nod to an enemy.

Daphne turned back to Janie. Her cousin leaned against the tree, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes narrowed. The snowfall swallowed the silence between them.

“I guess he’s right,” Daphne said finally. “I guess we do have stuff to work out.”

“Like what?” Janie’s nose twitched. “Like you ignore me for months, and then as soon as something good finally happens, you come along and ruin it?”

Her words sliced Daphne’s heart. “I wasn’t ignoring you,” she said quietly.

“Oh yeah? Then how come you never came to see me? I was up in that godforsaken house dying on the inside, and you couldn’t even be bothered to stop by?”

Daphne sucked in a sharp breath. “I
wanted
to come see you,” she insisted. “But you know how much the Varleys hate me. I wasn’t even sure they’d let me in.”

As the words fell from her mouth, she realized how pathetic they sounded. It made sense, suddenly, why Janie was so mad. So what if the Varleys weren’t Daphne’s number-one fans? That was no excuse not to be there for her cousin while she was in mourning, going through the most terrible grief a person could endure. Daphne should have tried harder. She should have been a better friend.