Texas-Sized Trouble. Barb Han
would say to him. Who knew morning sickness actually meant throwing up all day? Her queasiness had finally let up a couple of weeks ago and she’d been trying to plan out her words ever since. She’d tried to convince herself that it would be a good idea to leave town without ever telling Ryder. She knew in her heart that she could never do that to him. No matter how strong the arguments against it waged inside her head, he had a right to know.
Ryder pulled a chair from the kitchenette, turned it around backward and straddled it opposite the coffee table. “Tell me what really has you so worried.”
“Nicholas might be a McCabe but he’s nothing like the boys in my family, despite having a worthless mother. He’s fifteen and plays on the school soccer team. His grades are good. He’s always talking about a future, getting a scholarship, going to college,” she said, probably more defensively than she’d intended. “He’s a decent kid, Ryder.”
“If that were completely true, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Ryder had a way of looking right through her. She worried he’d see her fear while she was trying to put up a brave front.
“That’s why none of this makes sense. He wouldn’t just disappear like that. He’s not that kind of kid.”
Ryder’s look of disbelief struck a bad chord.
“I know you can’t stand my family and you may never trust me again, but I know Nicholas wouldn’t up and disappear without telling me,” she said, hating the defensiveness in her tone. Ryder’s not believing her hurt more than it should.
“What else do you know about his life besides what I could read on a college application? Have you met any of his friends?” Ryder asked.
“We kept our relationship secret. So, no,” she said honestly.
“Seems you’re full of deceptions,” he shot back. “I’m guessing that’s why I never heard about him before.”
Her first instinct was to fight back. She let that zinger go for the sake of her little brother, even though it scored a direct hit. Common sense said that arguing with Ryder wouldn’t get her what she needed. Besides, a little piece of her knew that Ryder had every right to be upset with her and he was still reacting to the bomb she’d dropped on him. She should’ve gone to him with the news or given him a better reason for the breakup, instead of chickening out while she was waiting for him so they could talk and deciding to scribble her exit on the only thing she had in her purse, a Post-it.
“My father went to great lengths to cover up his relationship with Nicholas’s mother. I thought he might dish out repercussions against the two of them if he knew I was seeing my brother. That’s the reason for the deception. I couldn’t risk telling anyone. Not even you,” she said.
“He would’ve been angry with you, too. Are you sure you weren’t protecting yourself?” Ryder said in that unnerving steady tone.
“I don’t care what happens to me,” she retorted. “Or at least I didn’t until now.” She touched her belly.
“What about your mom?”
“I was fairly sure she had no idea about Nicholas. But she’s been acting stranger than usual lately. Jumpy. But that could just be a change in her anxiety medication.”
“Self-preservation seems to be a genetic survival trait in McCabe women,” he said in a low enough voice that she could still hear it.
She chose not to respond.
“What are you really afraid Nicholas got himself into?” Ryder asked.
She shot him a grateful look for the change in subject. “He wouldn’t stand me up without a good reason, and he always responds to my texts. I’m afraid for him, Ryder.”
“Could he have a recreational drinking or drug habit?”
“No.” Her shoulders slumped forward. “He has a good head on his shoulders. He’s a decent person despite bad circumstances.”
* * *
RYDER COULDN’T HELP but notice how many times Faith had mentioned that her little brother was a decent kid. Was she trying to convince him, or herself? As much as he doubted any McCabe son could be good, he would give Faith the benefit of the doubt. His trust was an entirely different story.
If he was going to help—and there was no refusing now that he knew she was possibly pregnant with his child and there was the slightest chance of foul play—he needed more information. Besides, the faster he could help her find Nicholas, the sooner he’d be able to focus on what he really wanted to know more about—the baby she was carrying.
“You haven’t spoken to his mother. There could be an easy explanation for all this, Faith,” he said, ignoring the tension sitting like a wall between them.
Faith shook her head. “I didn’t want her to know about our relationship. It would only cause more tension between the two of them and I doubt she’d welcome a McCabe anyway, considering my father hasn’t stepped up to help her in any way. She can’t be happy that he refused support, and I’m not saying that he’s right but neither is sleeping with a married man.”
“She may be able to clear this up in five minutes. We have to talk to her,” he said plainly.
“After the way my father treated her I doubt she’ll want to see anyone from his side of the family again.” Faith made a harrumph sound.
“That may well be true. Doesn’t mean we skip a step,” he said. If one uncomfortable conversation could clear this up, so be it. “Besides, she can’t be all that bad if Nicholas has turned out as well as you say.”
“Fine. But Nicholas isn’t close to his mother and he wouldn’t tell her if he was in trouble.”
“She may have filed a missing persons report. If she hasn’t, we’ll need her help since she’s his legal guardian. How long did you say he’s been gone?” he asked. Cooperation from Nicholas’s mother would go a long way with the law. In fact, she’d have to be the person to officially report him missing.
“It’s been three days,” she said with a voice so weak Ryder’s heart squeezed. He couldn’t afford to let his emotions overrule logic this time. They’d had him thinking that getting mixed up with her was a good idea in the first place.
“I’ve been on campouts without cell service longer than that,” he said, trying to offer what little reassurance he could under the circumstances.
Faith shot him a look.
“If his mother filed a report, three days would be enough time for law enforcement to take her seriously,” he said. What if the kid ran away? From what Faith said the boy came from an unstable home. “There are other logical possibilities. Maybe he got impatient. Or he and his mother could’ve gotten into a fight and he’s staying away while they both cool off. She might’ve done something that he didn’t want to tell you about since you don’t like her in the first place.”
“I have to think he would’ve called me like he always does. And he’s never missed a tutoring session.” If that was true she made a good point.
“Maybe he figures you’ll try to talk him into going home and he’s not ready.”
“It’s a thought,” she said without much enthusiasm, and he could tell she was going along with him even though her heart wasn’t in it.
“There’s another more likely possibility,” he offered.
“And that is?” She was clicking through the possibilities with him, and he could tell from her subdued expression that nothing was sparking.
“He might’ve met a girl.” He held his hand up when she started to speak. “Hold on. Hear me out. Fifteen-year-old boys are hormones on legs. It’s possible that he hit it off with someone and is staying at her house for a few days.”
Faith held up her cell phone.