Solomon's Decision (23 page)

"Did I wake you?" Erik's furry baritone pulled her the rest of the way from
sleep.

"Um, yeah." She rubbed her eyes, blurry and tender from too many hours of
staring into the dark. Yawning, she pulled herself upright and sat on the edge of the bed.
"Sorry. I didn't sleep much last night."

"I'm the one who should apologize. But it was call you now or not until
tonight."

"'Sall right. The clock would have gone off in a few minutes." She hoped he was
calling in response to her message about Wounded Bear Meadow and not because his
lawyer had told him to take her to court over the twins.

The twins! Had Jon found them? Looking at the long shadows across a corner of
the bedroom, she realized he couldn't have been on the trail for much over an hour, and it
was a good two-hour ride up to the line shack. It was too early to be hoping for word.

"I need to know exactly what's going on with the meadow," he said, pulling her
thoughts from her children. "Your message was garbled, because the person who took it
didn't write it down. By the time we asked her about it, all she could remember was that
you said something about the meadow being sold."

She told him what she knew, including her hope that Jethro would keep his word.
"But I don't think he'll wait a day beyond the end of September, because his wife has her
heart set on being in Arizona before the first snow," she warned.

"I don't believe there's a problem. We made enough from Trace's concert that Walt
thinks we can qualify for some matching funds from a foundation. He's looking into it and
will get back to me as soon as he has any news."

"So I can tell Jethro that you'll have the money by September?"
If he ever
comes home,
she added, to herself.

"No, not yet. Give me a few more days. I'm stuck in this trial now, but by the
middle of--"

"Trial? What trial?" Was he taking her to court?

"It's a damned nuisance. I'm their expert witness, but they want me to listen...just a
minute." His voice faded, as if he'd put his hand over the mouthpiece. She could hear the
deep resonance of his voice, but not his words.

Finally, "Look, Madeline, I've got to go. I'll call you this weekend, okay?"

"Okay." She heard him hang up but she sat, holding the receiver, until the angry
blatt of an open line reminded her of where she was. What was wrong with her? She
should be relieved that Erik hadn't brought up the subject of child custody, and instead she
was disappointed that he hadn't even mentioned the twins.

The twins. How long until she could expect to hear from Jon?

Her jump at Erik's call was nothing to the state of her nerves by eleven. Every
time her office phone rang, she snatched up the receiver while it was still ringing. Each
time her heart leapt up into her throat and her stomach tightened.

None of the calls were from Jon.

Finally, at eleven-fifteen, she called Janine.

"No, I haven't seen him," her cousin's wife said. "But don't worry, Linnie. The
littles were on their ponies, and you know how slow they are, compared to a horse."

"But it's been hours," she wailed.

"And if one of the horses threw a shoe, it could be another hour or two." Janine
sounded matter-of-fact, and her calm drained the panic from Madeline. If Janine wasn't
worried, why should she be? After all, Abby was only a few weeks older than the
twins.

"I'll have him call you the minute he gets in, I promise."

"Thanks. I know I'm being silly, but I just can't help it."

"I'd worry too, if I were in town and not able to do anything."

After a few commonplace exchanges, Madeline hung up. She was worrying
unnecessarily. The twins were just fine. Jace and Denny had taken good care of them, and
by now they were in Jon's capable hands.

But she didn't go out to lunch, because she might have missed Jon's call.

She was growing frantic all over again by the time Jon called at a little after three.
"Are they all right?" she cried, as soon as she heard his voice.

"Now calm down, Linnie. You're not doing those kids a bit of good to carry on
like that."

"Something happened! It did, didn't it Jon? Something happened to one of
them!"

"I don't think so."

"
You don't think so?
Jon, how could you not know?" Terror burst within
her. "Where are my children?" She heard her own voice rise in a shriek on the last
word.

"I don't know."

She could not produce a sound, could hardly breathe.

"They weren't at the line shack. I couldn't even find their tracks after they crossed
the big meadow up on Skunk Ridge."

"I'm coming out there." She was shoving papers and folders into her desk
willy-nilly as she spoke.

"I think you'd better," Jon said. "I've already sent a tracker out. He'll find their trail
in no time, but you'll feel better for being here."

Madeline knew he was just trying to reassure her. Tossing the phone in the general
direction of its cradle, she grabbed her purse. If only she had brought the car to work
today. Even if she ran most of the way, it would take her ten minutes to get home. Another
thirty minutes to the Double J.

Oh, God! She needed her riding clothes. Her boots. Thoughts scrambled through
her mind while she ran, as fast as her dainty sandals allowed, toward home.

She had to find her children.

It took only moments to tear off her skirt and blouse and replace them with jeans
and a long-sleeved shirt. Her boots and slicker in her hand, Madeline was running out the
back door when a thought struck her. Erik!

For a moment she hesitated, then went back inside. He deserved to be told. No
matter what came of his claim to be the twins' father, he believed he was.

Why hadn't she gotten his number? Frantically she pawed through the slips of
paper stuck into her address book.

Aha! A yellow sticky note emerged, bearing the NWT headquarters number. She
dialed, pounded her fist lightly on the telephone table while it rang and rang. Finally an
answering machine clicked on.

Impatiently she listened to the message. When it ended at last, she said, "This is
Madeline Pierson in Garnet Falls, Idaho. Please have Erik Solomon call me. It's an
emergency."

She had almost hung up when she remembered that he probably didn't have Jon's
phone number. Hurriedly she recited it.

* * * *

Jace was worried. Everything looked so different, with the clouds hanging low
over the mountains and the rain making it hard to see more than a half-mile or so.

He'd done the best he could. When the rains began, along toward morning, he'd
gotten the others up and had them help him roll up the sleeping bags. He was really glad
he'd insisted they all bring their slickers along, 'cause at least they were staying dry, even if
they were kinda cold.

"I want to go home," Abby said, her tone very close to a whine.

"Oh, be quiet, Abby," Ginger said. "It's gonna stop raining pretty soon and then
we'll be able to explore." She put an arm around her cousin. "Look. It's letting up
already."

And it was. Jace was relieved to see that the clouds seemed farther away and not
as dark, that the rain was not the heavy curtain it had been.

"I'll bet I could make a fire," Denny said. He showed Jace a handful of dry duff
he'd scraped up from under the fallen log that offered them narrow shelter from the
storm.

"Not yet," Jace said. "First we gotta see if we can find some dry wood to
burn."

At his direction, the children scattered, searching under large shrubs and near the
trunks of the tall yellow pines. Jace studied the big log. The hollow under it wasn't big
enough to hold them all, if it started raining again, but he'd bet he could stretch the tarp
across here...

By the time the others came back with their pitiful collection of firewood, Jace
had a snug little shelter waiting for them. They might not stay warm, but he'd keep them
dry.

* * * *

"Why haven't you called Wally?" Madeline demanded.

"Because if Bob Wolfe can't find them, I doubt Blanchett could," he snapped.
"Look, Linnie, Bob's only been out a couple of hours. He's the best tracker around and he
shouldn't have any trouble picking up their trail." He rubbed his hand across his face and
Madeline could see his worry and exhaustion. Had he slept at all last night? "And I've got
all the other hands out looking, too."

She regretted her outburst, particularly when Jon put his arm around her and led
her toward the house. "I wouldn't even be worried, if it weren't for the rain. It's been falling
all night, up there." He gestured toward the high peaks to the west. "The creeks will be
rising."

Creeks her children would have to cross on small, inexperienced ponies.

"The hell of it is," he said, holding the back door open for her, "is that I can't
figure where they could he headed. Jace doesn't know that country, up back of Skunk
Ridge. I've always taken him east, over along Pigeon Creek, when we've gone camping
together."

"Are any of your maps missing?" She knew Jon had enlarged topographic maps of
his ranch, annotated with his observations.

"I hadn't even thought of that. Let's go see." He led the way to his office.

No maps were missing. But they were out of order. "I wonder," Jon said, when
they saw which one was on top. "No, he couldn't have."

She saw a familiar map, one that matched the still larger map hanging on her
office wall. "Wait a minute," she said. She pointed at the upper right corner, beyond the
thick red line marking the Double J north property line. "Wounded Bear Meadow. You
know, Jace has been really curious about what Erik's been doing."

"And I lost their tracks in the meadow up on Skunk Ridge," Jon said, pointing.
"It's possible."

"How far is it?"

"I don't know. Eight to ten miles," Jon answered. His finger traced a path from the
circle around his ranch house to the meadow. Between them, the topo lines were crowded
and convoluted, signifying steep, mountainous country.

Were her children lost somewhere in those crags and canyons?

* * * *

Jace didn't see how things could get much worse.

Actually, a lot of their troubles now were Ginger's fault. She'd been the one who
talked the hardest to get him to stay and explore instead of starting home like he thought
they should.

"We've come all this way," she said, this morning after they'd eaten gorp and
oranges for breakfast. "It's not raining any more and I want to see what all the fuss is about.
C'mon, Jace, don't be a dope. We can start home this afternoon."

So he'd given in, without much argument. It was what he wanted to do, anyway.
Abby had been the only one who'd really objected, and they all knew his little sister was a
girlie-girl, not very tough.

They hiked all the way across the meadow, clear to the bottom of the cliffs on the
north side. Denny wanted to go back the long way, but Jace overruled him. "We've got to
get started home," he said. "It's gonna be almost dark when we get to the line shack
anyhow." He wasn't sure he could find his way home from there in the dark.

Returning along their own trail, Jace learned that creeks could rise a lot in a couple
of hours. They had to wade places that had been mostly dry before. Once they had to go a
long way to find where the creek was shallow enough to cross. It was a good thing the sun
was shining, because they all got really wet.

"I'm cold," Abby whined, as they were squishing across a grassy field that had
been dry when they crossed it before.

"Me, too," Kyle said, "and I'm hungry, too."

Jace didn't notice that the sunshine was fading until a bright flash was followed
immediately by a deafening crack of thunder. Abby shrieked, Kyle yelped, and Ginger
turned as white as snow and bit her lower lip. Within seconds it became almost as dark as
night. Great big raindrops pelted them. Then came the biggest hailstones Jace had ever
seen. "Sit down!" he yelled at the others. "Put your arms over your heads." He pushed and
shoved until they were huddled close together, then he sat with them and tried to hug them
all.

The hailstorm lasted a long time. When it finally quit, it didn't matter that they'd
been sitting in puddles, because they were all soaked to the skin. A gentle rain was still
falling when Jace ordered the others to join hands and follow him. He had to get them back
to the horses and headed toward home.

* * * *

A door slammed at the back of the house. "Jon?" It was Janine.

"In here," he answered. "Call Wally," he told Madeline. "Tell him we may need
the posse. We'll get back to him as soon as we can, but in the meantime, he should alert
them."

"Have you heard anything?" Janine said as she came into the office. "Oh, Linnie,
I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have left Jace in charge."

Madeline made the call while Jon told his wife of their newest suspicions, then
spent the next few minutes assuring Janine she didn't blame her for the children's absence.
"If I know my daughter," she said, trying to sound calm instead of scared stiff, "this was all
her idea." Somehow, her fear was more manageable when she had someone else to be
strong for.

"I'm going to see if I can raise anyone on the radios," Jon said, striding out of the
office. Madeline and Janine followed, to end up in the kitchen.

"I'll make some coffee," Madeline said, needing something to do with her hands.
If only she could find something to keep her mind busy, too.

For the next two hours, she and Janine worked together in the kitchen. They
started bread rising and pulled meat out to thaw. Unless the children were found soon,
they'd have a crew of searchers to feed. Their conversation was light, inconsequential.
Deliberately so. Madeline knew, if she were to speak of her fears, to bring them into the
light of day, that she might lose what little control she had over her emotions.