“It could still make a difference. Go after him. Bring him back so we can talk some sense into the man. He couldn’t have gotten far in this storm.”
Could her grandfather be right? For an instant, hope flickered. But no, she knew better. Kira shook her head.
“Jake’s a proud man. After what happened last night, he won’t come back. He wouldn’t—not even if I asked him to. Not even if I begged him. He’s gone—and all I can do is respect his decision.”
She stood, fighting tears. “It’s time I checked on my students. And I’ll need to tell Paige that Jake’s gone. She’s bound to be upset.”
She walked back to the living room. Calvin was reading a book. Brandon was teaching Heather how to play chess. Faith, Lanie and Patrick were playing a video game in the den. Nothing had changed—except that part of her world had just crumbled away like a stream bank in a flood.
Desperate for distraction, Kira wandered into her office, switched on her computer and spent a few minutes scrolling through a meaningless list of e-mails. Unable to focus, she ended up staring out the rain-spattered window.
Why hadn’t Jake trusted her to be there for him, no matter what? Why hadn’t he realized that she would understand, and that Paige, in her childish wisdom, would understand, too?
She loved him unconditionally. Why hadn’t that been enough to keep him here?
Did the answer to that question lie with Jake, or with something in herself?
She remembered his protectiveness, his drive to prove himself, his annoyance when she fussed over him. To Jake, pride was all. Maybe what he craved was not so much to be loved as to be needed.
When was the last time she’d allowed herself to need anyone—to let go of her fears and trust someone else to be there for her?
Only now that he was gone did she realize how much she needed Jake in her life—and how much she needed to let him know it. She had to take a chance. She had to go after him.
But first she had to find Paige and tell her what had happened.
* * *
In the kitchen, Consuelo was making Rice Krispies Treats for the students. Paige was nowhere in sight.
“I haven’t seen her since breakfast,” Consuelo said in response to Kira’s question. “I thought she must be with Dusty.”
Worry gnawed at Kira as she checked the bathroom and Dusty’s room. Dusty was alone there, watching his TV from his rocking chair. Kira decided not to worry him. Surely, Paige would be somewhere in the house. She wouldn’t go out in this weather.
Suddenly Kira remembered the conversation with Dusty in her bedroom. Had he closed the door all the way when he’d come in? Was there any chance that Paige could have been in the hallway, listening to what was said?
Or could she have gone looking for Jake herself and found his cabin empty?
Frantic now, she hurried into Paige’s room. The bed was unmade, as Paige often left it. The closet door was open, her child-sized yellow rain slicker missing from its hanger.
Kira was about to rush out of the room again, but then she noticed something else.
A felt-tipped marker from her office lay on Paige’s nightstand next to the wedding photo of her parents. But something was different. Kira’s breath stopped as she realized what it was.
Paige had taken the marker to the framed glass, carefully inking a short beard and longer hair onto the image of her father.
The young soldier in the picture had become the man she’d known as Mister Jake.
* * *
It was still raining when Jake rounded the last bend in the gravel road. A hundred yards ahead, next to the highway, he could see the construction site, the huge machines idle, like yellow dinosaurs drowsing in lakes of mud. He saw no cars or pickups. No one moving. But at least he should be able to find a place out of the rain until the storm passed.
He paused, listening. From somewhere behind and above him, a big vehicle was coming down the road, fast enough to spit gravel on the curves. Since there was nothing above here but the ranch, the driver had to be coming from there.
And unless Dusty was driving the Jeep against doctor’s orders, it had to be Kira.
Jake willed himself to ignore his quickening pulse. He’d hoped to get away clean. That, evidently, wasn’t to be. But if the driver was Kira, he was surprised that she’d come after him. His letter had made it clear that their relationship was over. And much as he might want her to, she wasn’t the kind of woman to chase him down and beg him to change his mind.
Anxious, he stepped out of the road and waited. Now he could see Dusty’s big Jeep swinging around the last bend, Kira at the wheel. She pulled up with a squeal of brakes and rolled down the window.