It Takes a Cowboy

“Yes. I’ll wake him when breakfast is ready.”

“Need any help in the kitchen?”

“No, that isn’t necessary, thank you.”

He nodded. “Then I’ll take advantage of the empty bathroom to shower and get dressed.”

Deciding the encounter hadn’t been too awkward under the circumstances, Blair went into the kitchen and rummaged for breakfast supplies. She found oatmeal and brown sugar, a combination Jeffrey often requested. She assumed Scott liked oatmeal, since he kept it stocked. While the oatmeal cooked, she made orange juice from frozen concentrate, stirring it vigorously with a long, wooden spoon.

By the time Scott ambled in, his hair still damp from his shower, three steaming bowls of oatmeal were on the table, along with toast and juice. “Looks good.”

Wiping her hands on a paper towel, Blair stepped toward the door. “I’ll go wake Jeffrey.”

She would prefer not to remain alone in the kitchen with Scott, considering what had happened last time.

She tapped on the door of her nephew’s bedroom. “Jeffrey, it’s time to wake up.” Receiving no response, she turned the knob and opened the door. “Jeffrey? Breakfast is...”

There was no one in Jeffrey’s room. The bed had been hastily made up, and Jeffrey’s pajamas were thrown over the back of a chair. She glanced toward the bathroom shared by the two downstairs bedrooms. The door was closed on this side;

she tapped on it. “Jeffrey?”

When there was no answer, she rattled the knob. The door opened beneath her hand. The room was empty.

Frowning, she left the bedroom. He wasn’t in the living room, and she didn’t see him in the loft. Could he have slipped into the kitchen somehow while she was in his room? She stepped into the kitchen, where Scott was sitting at the table, looking hungrily at his oatmeal. “Have you seen him?”

He looked surprised by the question. “Jeff? He wasn’t in his room?”

“No. Not in the bathroom, either.”

“The loft?”

“I didn’t go up, but the lights are off up there and he didn’t answer when I called out. Did you hear him moving around this morning?”

“Not a sound. I just assumed he was sleeping.” Scott stood. “Check the other rooms again. I’ll look around outside.”

Ten minutes later, there was still no sign of Jeffrey, and Scott looked grim when he rejoined Blair. “One of the fishing rods is gone,” he announced.

“You think he slipped out to go fishing?”

“Looks that way. He must have left at least an hour ago—I’d have heard him if he’d left after that.”

Blair’s eyes narrowed. “Will you take me to him? He knows better than to behave this way. I intend to tell him...”

Something in Scott’s expression made Blair hesitate. “What is it?” she asked sharply.

“I’ll go look for him. Maybe you should wait here until I bring him back.”

“Scott?” What was it he wasn’t telling her? Why did he look so concerned?

After hesitating a moment, Scott admitted slowly, “I’m a little worried that Jeffrey could have gotten lost on the way to the stream. The path I led him on yesterday isn’t a straight, clearly marked trail. There are quite a few winding paths he could have taken by mistake. It took me months after I bought this place to learn the surroundings, and that was with a compass and a map of the area.”

“He could be lost out there?” she repeated, her voice strained, irritation changing into fear.

Scott moved toward the door. “I’ll go find him.”

“I’m coming with you,” she said, hurrying after him.

“All right, but stay close. If he headed toward where we fished yesterday, the trail gets steep and narrow. There are some slippery places where a fall could lead to an injury.”