The Lost and Found (3 page)

I opened the envelope and dumped its contents on the bed. I looked at all the letters, blinking through the tears I refused to shed. I hated these feelings of weakness inside me. I’d never been particularly brave. But I’d never really felt this weak, or this fragile before either. I hated it. But I had no idea how to change anything.

Mom wrote that she’d chosen my name with care, with thought. My name
meant
something to her. Crimson, for the color of her love for me — she’d been determined to love me, even when everyone else expected her to hate me. Sage, because it soothed her. NewTowne was the last name she’d chosen for us when she’d had her name legally changed. She’d left Idaho, pregnant with me, and moved to Virginia. New state, new name, new start. All this she’d written in the third letter. My hand shook as I picked it up; my vision blurred.

I’d never known any of this.

My life had been perfect. My parents had been the perfect parents — thoughtful, considerate, available. Not pushovers, they were our parents first, friends second. I’d been on the swim team at school, had friends, went on dates. My friends and boyfriends had always been welcomed in my home. My life had been perfect. Just perfect. And now it was over.

My perfect world ended the night the police knocked on our door to tell Ethan and me our parents had died — some woman, texting, had crossed the center line and hit them head-on; they’d died instantly.

What was left of me had died when I read those letters. I was adrift, lost in a sea of confusion and pain. I’d been pretending for Ethan’s sake. Only for Ethan.

My head began to pound; I couldn’t think about this any longer. Sliding down, I turned on my side, wrapped my arms around one of the pillows, and let the exhaustion I’d been fighting claim me.

When next I woke, someone was knocking on my door. “Sage?” Ethan called quietly, hesitantly.

“Come in,” I croaked.

Ethan opened the door and stepped inside. His grey eyes sought mine; I read the concern in them. “You all right?” he asked.

“Yeah, just tired.”

“You’ve been sleeping all day.”

I glanced around the room, noticed the difference in the shadows. “Just tired,” I said again.

“You want dinner?”

“Not hungry.”

“Billy was hoping you’d come down… hang out with us.”

“I’ll catch you all later. Still tired, and my head is pounding, Kid,” I said, calling him the nickname he’d had since his first birthday. We’d been studying American History in school and had just finished a lesson on the Old West — I’d called him
Kid
after Billy the Kid.

“Okay. I’ll tell him.”

I nodded and then asked, “How about you? You all right?”

“Yeah. Sad. I try not to think about it.”

“Me, too.”

“I miss them,” Ethan whispered.

“So do I, Kid.”

“Billy’s pretty cool, though. He’s been showing me pictures of Mom, when
she
was a kid. She looks like you. He’s got pictures of us, too. All over the house. Kinda crazy we never knew about him, and he knows so much about us.”

“Yeah, it’s crazy,” I agreed. And because I didn’t want to talk about this anymore, I said, “I might shower, go back to bed.”

“You’re not sick?” The Kid sounded anxious now.

“Nah, just… just tired. I’m all right. Promise.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“Love you, too, Kid.”

Ethan stood up then left the room. I waited about five minutes then gathered my bathroom supplies and quickly slipped into the shower. I was back in bed about twenty minutes later. Someone had left a tray of food on the dresser, but I couldn’t eat. I rolled away from the door, faced the windows, watched the sun set, and drifted off to sleep.

Still Breathing

Josiah

HOW QUICKLY THINGS CHANGED
. Josiah clearly remembered stepping from the shower that morning a few weeks ago, not realizing his whole world was about to take an abrupt and unseen turn. He’d grabbed his towel and quickly dried off. The coffee called to him; he could smell it, the rich, warm, inviting aroma of the coffee…

Stepping into the main room of his tiny loft apartment wearing nothing but steam and his towel, he made his way to the cabinet in his tiny kitchen, pulled out a mug, and quickly filled it.

The small room was lit only by the first rays of sunlight coming over the tree line. Josiah carried his mug to the large window overlooking the mountains, watching as the sun rose slowly. Looking down he saw a buck and three doe as they scampered into the trees. Tipping his head back he finished his first cup of coffee and contemplated a second. Setting it down for a minute, intending to get dressed, he glimpsed the photo lying on his coffee table and picked it up, his dark blue eyes roving over the platinum blonde.

She was at the beach, standing in the surf up to her thighs, splashing water at someone off camera. The sun touched her skin turning it golden, making her hair almost seem white. She wasn’t looking at the camera, but off to her right, sort of over her shoulder. He could tell she was fit, could see the muscle tone. Her frame was slender, almost petite. Her swimsuit was modestly cut in grey and hot pink, and she wore some kind of cover up item in a lighter shade of grey — the material had slipped off her shoulder, leaving several enticing inches exposed — it was a lovely shoulder, he reflected. She was smiling, laughing really. It was her smile that had first caught Josiah’s eye.

There was such happiness on her face that when Josiah had seen the photo on Billy’s desk last year he’d picked it up without hesitation and just stared at her. Josiah had felt the warmth trickle through him, quickening his nerves, his muscles, his heart, his head. Her happiness made him happy. Without being aware of it, a smile had begun to tug at the corners of his mouth. When Billy had offered to give it to him, Josiah had been a little surprised, a little unsure. He looked to the older man in question.

“She’s my granddaughter, Crimson Sage. You’ve probably seen her photos around the house.”

Of course Josiah recognized her. Billy had numerous pictures of her and her brother around his big ranch house. Though he’d never caught her name until now. He held the photo out to Billy, intending to return it. “She’s cute. Seems nice.”

“Keep it,” Billy told him, a knowing look flashing in his eyes.

Josiah had taken the photo back to his apartment and set it on his coffee table; not a day had gone by since that he didn’t pause for a moment and smile with her.

A sharp knock at his door had pulled Josiah from his thoughts that morning. He set the photo down and walked to his door. Opening it he found Kelly, one of the younger boys at the ranch.

“Billy needs you! Something happened,” Kelly wheezed as soon as the door had opened.

Josiah figured Kelly must have run all the way over from the big house. He left the door open and turned to his dresser. “Let me throw on some clothes and I’ll be right there. He at the house?”

“Yeah, his office.”

Josiah quickly pulled on his knit shorts then his jeans; he grabbed a t-shirt and slid his feet into his boots, not bothering to lace them. He’d tried to imagine what the emergency was. Had one of the boys gone missing? Was there a fight? Was someone hurt? He’d followed Kelly back down the stairs and then they’d sprinted toward the big house. Josiah easily passed the younger boy.

He found Billy seated behind his desk; it looked like he’d just slumped there. The older man’s face was pale, his breathing shallow and hitched — he held his head in trembling hands. Josiah pulled up when he saw him; shock registering in his body. Had Billy had a heart attack? Did he need to call an ambulance? He didn’t know what he’d do if something happened to the old man.

“Billy?” he asked, his voice raw with concern.

Billy raised his head, looked at Josiah with pain-filled eyes. “She’s gone. She’s gone,” he whispered brokenly.

Josiah leaned over the desk, not sure what to do for the older man. “Who’s gone, Billy?”

“My Theresa,” he said through trembling lips. “My Terri is gone. Killed. I got a phone call.”

“Your daughter?” Josiah asked, quickly trying to process the information, to know how to best help with the situation. “When did you get the phone call? From whom?”

“Just now.” Billy swallowed hard, wiped his eyes. Tried to calm himself. “Got a call from Social Services in Virginia… Terri… and her husband… were both killed in a car accident. About a week ago. They had to track me down to notify me.”

Josiah instantly thought of Billy’s granddaughter. Of her smile. Knowing it would be shattered now. A part of him shattered just at the thought. “What of the kids?”
What of Crimson
?

“I need to head out there. Take custody of Ethan. I’ll need to bring them here. Sage and Ethan. She’ll have nowhere else to go.”

“When are you leaving?”

“I need to call and make all the arrangements. So much to do. Call Red for me, will ya? Let him know I need to leave. I’ll be gone a couple weeks I’m sure. Can you hold things down here?”

“You know I can.”

“The upper room. I’ll leave you my card. Get whatever you need. I think Sage’ll have to move in there. There’s just nowhere else to put a girl here. It doesn’t have to be perfect, just make sure it’s livable and secure. Maybe Ethan can bunk with me until I can figure out what to do with him.”

“How old is he?”

“Thirteen.”

“Bunk him with Kelly. He’s the best of them. It’ll be tight in that room, but they’ll get along fine.”

“That’ll work,” Billy nodded numbly.

Billy had left the following morning and Josiah worked tirelessly getting the room ready for when Crimson arrived. Upstairs and down the hall in the big house was a large open room that Billy had planned to turn into a game room eventually, but just hadn’t gotten around to it in the last couple of years. They’d worked on it here and there, getting the plumbing for the small bathroom done, installing the toilet and the sink, laying the plywood down, getting the sheetrock up. Lately it had been used for storage. Josiah cleaned everything out and got a shower installed, finished the wiring, and got everything nailed off. He’d found an old four-poster bed at an antique and used furniture dealer in town. Sally, Red’s sister, bought some bedding and between them they got the room as ready as they could. Later they’d paint and install flooring, but for now it’d have to work.

Boxes began arriving, shipped from Billy — the kids’ belongings. Josiah stored them in Crimson’s room. Almost two weeks to the day, he got the message from Billy letting him know when to expect them, what flight they’d be coming in on. Billy described Crimson as broken and unreachable. Ethan seemed lost and a little scared he said, but had warmed to him, accepted him fairly easily. Billy wasn’t sure what he was going to do about Crimson. She just seemed shattered — over the death of her parents, over the truths she’d learned.

Crimson Sage

I’D BEEN HERE AT
Lost and Found ranch for four days — most of which I’d spent in my room, away from everyone. Both Billy and Ethan seemed determined to talk about everything that had happened. Each time I’d tried to venture from my room they were there asking how I was doing, if I needed to talk. Like talking somehow made it all better. I couldn’t talk. Not yet. I wasn’t ready. I was still trying to process feelings and fears. There was no way I could put those into words yet.

The morning after I arrived I’d gone downstairs in search of coffee and food. My face was everywhere. Ethan hadn’t exaggerated. Billy did have lots of pictures of us all over the house. It was disconcerting at the very least, uncomfortable at best.

Following the smell of coffee and the soft rumble of several voices, I entered the kitchen. A hush fell over the room. Glancing up and then immediately back down, I’d noticed every eye in the room was turned toward me. Sally was beside the sink, scrubbing out a pan; she smiled warmly in my direction. Billy sat at the head of the table, a welcoming smile spread across his face. Ethan grinned at me encouragingly and nodded toward the coffee pot.
Ginger
stood by a door that led directly outside. He didn’t smile. His gaze was the strongest though, the one that affected me the most. The one that kept messing with my ability to remain numb.