A Soldier's Homecoming. Rachel Lee
life.”
“Everyone has.”
“Not like that.” She reached out unexpectedly and patted the back of his hand. “You can talk to Micah about it. He’s the most understanding man in the world.”
Connie sat both girls at the table while her mother set about making some hot chocolate to soothe them. But Connie wasn’t about to be soothed.
Jody was crying, and Connie gave her a tissue. “I’ll call your mom, Jody, then I’ll drive you home, okay?”
The little girl nodded and sniffled.
After calling Jody’s mother, telling her nothing but that Jody was going to be with Sophie for a bit, she joined them at the table.
“Now tell me everything. Every single thing you remember,” Connie said gently. But she wasn’t feeling gentle at all. At that moment she felt as close to murder as she ever had, even when her ex-husband had beaten her.
“It was a man in an old car,” Sophie said. She was scared, but not as scared as Jody, for some reason.
“He followed us,” Jody said, hiccupping.
“Followed you? How?”
“He drove real slow,” Sophie said. “We kinda noticed it, so we looked.”
Connie’s heart slammed. “And then?”
Jody sniffled again. “He saw us looking at him, and he called out for Sophie.”
“By name?”
“Yeah,” Sophie said. “But I remembered what you said about strangers. So we started to run away from the car, and he yelled he just wanted to talk to me.” Her eyes seemed to fill her face. “We got really scared when he started to drive after us, so me and Jody cut across the backyards.”
For an instant, terror struck Connie so hard she felt light-headed. Her mind raced at top speed, trying to deal with dread and speculations, all of them enough to make her nearly sick.
Connie’s mother spoke. “Come get your hot chocolate, girls. It’s ready.”
Connie grabbed for the phone receiver on the wall and dialed the emergency number. Velma’s familiar voice became an anchor.
“What’s up, honey?”
“A stranger went after my daughter and her friend. I need someone at my house right now.”
Velma disconnected without another word. Slowly Connie hung up the phone and attempted to gather herself. When she felt composed enough, she turned back to the girls.
“What did he look like?” she asked as the girls politely took mugs from Julia, who then began to put cookies on a plate for them.
“Ugly,” Sophie answered. “He had a dirty beard. His clothes were old.”
Connie’s thoughts immediately flew to the stranger she’d driven into town just yesterday. Ethan, that was his name. But his beard hadn’t been dirty. Nor had he been wearing old clothes. But who knew what he might be wearing today?
“Did he say anything else?”
“No,” Sophie said, returning to the table. “We ran away.”
“Can you tell me anything about his car?”
Jody sniffed away the last of her tears and came back to the table with her mug. Julia put the plate of cookies in front of the girls.
“Brown,” Sophie announced. “But not dark like a crayon.”
“Was it big or small?”
“Not as big as a sheriff car, but bigger than our car.”
That was quite a range. “Anything else you can remember?”
Both girls shook their heads.
“Okay, you enjoy your cookies and cocoa while we wait for a deputy.”
By that point, both girls were more interested in their cookies than in what had scared them. Ah, for the resilience of the young, she thought.
Because she was still angry and terrified. She wanted to grab her gun and go hunting for this man who had scared her daughter. She wanted to make sure he never again frightened a child.
Which was precisely why she joined them at the table and tried to smile, tried to cover all the protective, angry feelings inside her.
“It’s going to be okay. Another deputy is coming to help, and we’ll find him.”
God willing.
Gage was halfway back to the office when he got the radio call from Velma.
“Connie’s all upset. I’m sending Sara over there.”
“What happened?”
“Some stranger approached her daughter.”
“I’m on my way.”
“Uh, boss?”
At least Velma didn’t refer to him as the new boss. “What?”
“Those kids are already terrified.”
“Meaning?” He thought instantly of his scarred face, of the shiny skin where the bomb that had killed his family had burned his cheek. There had been a time when he’d thought he ought to wear a mask like the phantom in Phantom of the Opera, so he wouldn’t scare children, but surprisingly few, if any, kids were scared of him. Certainly not around here.
“Well, I was just thinking,” Velma said, “too many cops all at once…”
“Might make them feel safer,” Gage finished. “I’m on my way.” With that he switched on his light bar and hit the accelerator hard. If some creep was hanging around, the sooner they got him, the better.
Micah got home before Ethan had finished half a cup of coffee. He walked in the door, hat in hand, and froze almost as soon as he was inside. His dark gaze flicked from his wife to Ethan, then back.
Ethan rose to his feet and stared at the man he had been told was his father. There was an instant when he felt almost as if he were looking in a mirror, but only an instant, for almost at once he saw the differences. His face was weathered, but Micah’s was substantially more so. His own jaw was a little squarer, and he was the taller by almost an inch. Less muscular, though. Running around the Afghan mountains on very little food had made him leaner, rangier.
But then gaze met gaze, and there was an instant of almost preternatural recognition that pinned them both to the spot.
“Micah,” Faith said. “Micah?” Her husband looked at her. “This is Ethan Parish.”
Micah’s gaze shot back to the younger man. “Parish?”
“My mother was Ella Birdsong.”
“Ella…” Micah repeated the name slowly, almost doubtfully. Then his face darkened. “She left me when I was ordered overseas on an extended op. I never knew where she went.”
“She told me.”
“She never said…”
“That she was pregnant,” Ethan finished. “I know. She told me that, too. There’s no blame here.”
After a moment, Micah nodded. Then he advanced farther into the kitchen and reached out to shake Ethan’s hand. “Good to meet you,” he said, as he might have said to any stranger.
“Sit down, love,” Faith said. “I’ll get you some coffee. The kids will be home