Chapter Thirteen
Derek had taken off without a word after Kayla left, so when Dylan heard the front door slam and the heavy stomping up the stairs, it was a welcome relief. It wasn’t the first time Derek was in a snit, and it wouldn’t be the last, but at least he had Patches to console him this time.
Except you’re planning to take away his new best friend.
Kayla’s words echoed through the room, over and over. Nothing a chat with Johnny Walker couldn’t drown out.
But he was wrong.
Three glasses of whisky later, the only thing that had changed was the clock on the wall ticking away the minutes. If anything, Kayla’s words had become a more dominant force in the room, pushing him to the edge of no return. She didn’t understand. No one could understand the pain of losing your best friend. It was something he’d never shared with anyone, and Kayla had come too damn close to guessing the truth. But the truth didn’t mean Dylan could handle history repeating itself.
He stood and headed for the stairs. Five a.m. came the same time every day, no matter what time he went to bed. And tomorrow’s long to-do list had one more item he hadn’t planned on. Returning the dog to old Mr. Thompson.
He stopped outside Derek’s door and paused for a second before turning the knob. The door creaked open, but Derek was fast asleep, Patches curled up in a tight ball at his side. The dog lifted his head to look up at Dylan, his tail thumping against the bed repeatedly to say hello.
Dylan made a move toward the bed and Patches started to rise.
“Stay,” Dylan commanded.
The dog laid his head back down but continued to watch Dylan with interest.
Buster had been a great dog, but a terrible ranch dog. Maybe if he’d spent more time training him and less time trying to get out of his responsibilities by playing hooky and hanging with his friends, his dog would still be alive. It was a hard lesson, and one Dylan would never forget.
Would the outcome have been any different if his father had shown him the way?
Dylan sat down on the edge of the bed and the dog skootched toward him. Half puppy, half dog, his big black eyes looked up at him with trust. He reached out to stroke the dog’s face, his palm connecting with wet tongue instead. Dylan’s heart melted like ice in a pot over a fire.
The mutt had stolen his way into Dylan’s heart just as assuredly as he had into Derek’s. There was no way he could get rid of the dog. Patches was here to stay.
The next morning Dylan left a note for Derek on the kitchen table, he headed for town to pick up a load of feed. The note was insurance Derek wouldn’t skip from school again. The kid came up with enough reasons of his own without Dylan adding to the list.
Three hours later, Dylan pulled into the driveway and around to the barn to unload the feed. His body ached from loading the hundred-pound feed bags alone, but it had been that or wait for Mr. Thompson’s son to get back from his errand to help. There was too much to be done at the ranch to wait around for anyone.
He glanced over at the side yard of the house to check on Patches but didn’t see the little dog. He crossed the yard to look around, hoping he was tied up and sitting under the porch. An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach as he drew close. The chain sat in a heap by the tie down. Either Derek had forgotten to tie him up this morning, or Patches had slipped the collar, but Dylan was laying odds against his brother, because the collar was nowhere in sight.
He should have known the kid wasn’t up to the responsibility.
“Patches,” Dylan called out, crossing the yard. Nothing. He opened the front door, “Patches, here, boy,” he called out again. Nothing.
Dylan checked the kitchen. The dog’s food and water bowls were missing, as well as the bag of dog food Kayla had left.
A quick glance at the kitchen table showed no signs of Derek having eaten the cereal Dylan had poured this morning. His heart constricted when his gaze landed on the note he’d left tucked under the spoon.
Derek hadn’t come down to breakfast, which meant he hadn’t seen the note. He didn’t know Dylan had changed his mind about Patches. Damn. Damn. Damn.
He took the stairs two at a time, hoping and praying his suspicions were wrong.
Dylan pushed open the door. Nothing. He raced back to the barn. “Derek! Patches!”
Thankfully, Jezebel was still in her stall. Derek couldn’t have gone far.
He checked the calf stall, knowing how much Derek loved the baby calves. Nothing.
He called the school, only to find out his brother hadn’t shown up today. Dylan was 99 percent sure his brother had run away.
And it was his fault.
If only he’d listened to or paid more attention to his brother. He had to find him. His parents had trusted him to do right by Derek, and he’d failed. Miserably. He called Leroy, hoping someone had spotted his brother or the dog. He hung up the phone in frustration. Another dead end.
One last call, and then he would pull out all stops, notify the sheriff, and organize a search party.
“Lou, it’s Dylan. Have you seen any sign of Derek or Patches?”
“No. Sorry. Shouldn’t he be at school this time of day?”
“Yes. But I got back from town and some of his things and the dog are missing. I called the school, but Derek never showed up.”
“Let me look around, and I’ll get back to you,” Lou said, worry evident in his voice.
“Any chance they’re with Kayla?” Dylan asked hopefully. Derek trusted her, and it stood to reason he would turn to her now.
“No. Sorry to have to tell you, but Kayla left town late last night.”
“Left?” First Derek, and now Kayla. Everyone he loved was deserting him.
He fought back against the pain gripping his chest. He couldn’t worry about her right now. She was a grown woman, old enough to make her own choices, and she didn’t need him. That much was clear. But Derek needed him.
“Left as in back to the city. Said something came up at the clinic and she had to get back.”
“Thanks for letting me know. I’ll wait for your call to see what you find before I notify the sheriff.” The next ten minutes were the longest of his life. He answered on the first ring when Lou called him back.
“Sorry, Dylan. There’s no sign of him here, and I think you’re right about him leaving. I found his bike in the barn, his book bag emptied of his school things, and Mary said it looks like some food is missing from the fridge along with some bottled water. I reckon you ought to be calling in for help.”
“Thanks. I’ll get right on it.” He’d driven his brother away when he’d threatened to take away his new best friend. Dylan knew what it was like to lose a dog, and he wouldn’t wish those feelings on anyone, least of all Derek. He’d been such an idiot. All along, his brother had needed him, and while he tried to do right by him, the reality was, he hadn’t given him what he needed. At least nothing a boy could hold on to. No one to make him feel loved.
“Any idea why he ran? Might help us to know where to look?”
“I told him he had to get rid of the dog. I changed my mind, but he doesn’t know it.”
“Interesting both Kayla and Derek are running away from you. Maybe it’s high time you take action and show them how you feel.”
“I’ve tried, trust me, I’ve tried.”
“Maybe that’s the problem. You’re trying instead of doing. If he started out here, there’s a good chance he’s still somewhere on the farm. Mary and I will head out and start looking. You might want to call Kayla.”
“I’ll think about it. I’m sure we’ll find him holed up somewhere and wishing he was home,” Dylan said, trying to sound hopeful. She’d made her decision and left.
“It’s your call. But she loves your little brother, and she knows this property better than anyone.”
“We’ll probably have him back safe and sound before she could even get here from the city. We’ll be okay without her.” Liar. He’d never be okay without her.
An hour and half later, and there was still no sign of Derek or Patches. At least twenty people from town had already shown up to join in the search. Dylan was grateful for their help, but so far, they hadn’t picked up any other clues, and they had to find him before nightfall.
It would be dangerous for him to be alone and unarmed with predators roaming the territory, including several coyotes that had been spotted not more than thirty miles south of here. Too close for comfort.
Lou’s words rang in his ears for the hundredth time. She knows the property better than anyone. For someone who prided himself on not needing anyone, now wasn’t the time for his stubborn pride to rear its ugly head. For Derek, he would call Kayla and beg if that’s what it took, anything to find his brother.
Scrolling down his recent call list, he located her number, and pressed dial. He was surprised when she answered on the first ring.
“Kayla, it’s me, Dylan. I need you. I, um, I mean, we need you. I know you don’t owe me a thing, but I think Derek’s run away with Patches, and we think he’s on your farm somewhere.”
“I already heard, and I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry? That’s it? I thought you cared about Derek. I promise to stay far, far away and never lay another hand on you if you’ll help us. Please.”
“I never said I wouldn’t help. I was saying I’m sorry he’s missing. Sorry I caused all this. I realize I shouldn’t have interfered. You were right. Of course, I’ll help look. In fact, if you get your stubborn self to my house in about ten minutes, I’ll meet you there and we can go look together.”
“How? You father said you went back to Houston. And who are you calling stubborn? I’m not the one who left and who refuses to acknowledge what’s still between us.”
“First things first. Let’s find Derek, and then we can talk. Deal?”
“Deal.”
“My father called me right after Derek turned up missing, and I’ve been driving ever since. I love your little brother, and I’ll do anything I can to help bring him home.”
“Thanks. People are still showing up from town to help, but we can’t have too many looking.”
Dylan drove over to the Anderson ranch and waited. Kayla pulled in the driveway, a cloud of dust engulfing her SUV as it came to a sudden halt fewer than twenty feet from where he stood. She jumped out and made her way to his side.
“Get in the truck.” Dylan didn’t want to waste a single minute.
“I’ll drive.” Kayla’s tone wasn’t asking.
For once, he didn’t mind her taking charge. Hopefully, she had better ideas than he did where to look for Derek. “Sounds good.”
He’d tried not to need anyone, but the truth was, he needed Kayla. He needed everything about her. She understood him better than anyone.
“Thanks for coming back, Kayla. Any ideas?”
“A few. We’ll pick some of the areas a little farther out since we don’t know exactly what time he left. Dad said the others are starting in close and fanning out.”
Kayla drove slowly through the fields and past the river. There was still no sign of Derek. As the minutes slipped by and dusk edged closer, the knot in his stomach clenched tighter and tighter.
She stopped the truck on top of a knoll and they got out to scan the horizon for signs of movement.
They heard a bark seconds before they spotted the welcome sight of Patches bounding toward them. Their eyes met, hope reflected in hers, and it was a feeling he seconded wholeheartedly. He couldn’t have loved Patches any more than he did in that moment.
“Where is he, boy? Can you show us?” Dylan hoped the dog would understand. Patches tugged at his arm in response, and Dylan was more than happy to let him lead.
“Wait, Dylan.” Kayla stood looking in the direction Patches was trying to pull. She raised her hand to shade her eyes.
“I know where he’s going,” she said, her words laced with excitement.
“Quick. The old well shaft isn’t far from here. Get in the truck.”
Dylan scooped Patches up and held him tightly as he climbed into the front seat.
“Easy boy. We’ll take you to him.” He stroked the dog’s head to calm him down.
Kayla looked over at him, a king-size smile on her face. “Glad to see you two getting along.”
“Yeah, we sorta came to an understanding last night, but Derek didn’t get the message. Let’s hope he’s okay.” He said a little prayer for his brother, hoping he wasn’t injured. Or worse.
“Step on it,” he said, the image of Buster as he lay dying in his arms twisting his gut hard.
Kayla came to a skidding halt, twenty feet away from the old covered-up well. “We’re here.”
Dylan ran toward the opening and noticed a large piece of wood missing from the cover. “Derek,” he called out desperately.
“Down here,” his brother’s voice echoed back up the shaft. “My ankle hurts real bad, and I’m scared, and I’m sorry.” Thank God, he was alive.
Dylan breathed a sigh of relief, but the jackhammer pounding in his chest continued.
“Hang on, Derek. I’m going to get some rope, and I’m coming down for you.”
A silent look of understanding passed between him and Kayla. If it was only his ankle, they had a lot to be thankful for.
“Call the others and let them know, and I’ll get the truck in position and hook up some ropes. You okay to drive and pull us out?”
“Is it safe?” she asked, her eyes narrowed in concern.
“If you drive forward slowly, I can walk us up the wall and out of the well. Understand?”
She nodded her head but still didn’t look convinced.
He was ready by the time she hung up the phone. “I’m going down on the rope. I’ll holler when you need to start driving forward.”
Dylan dropped a kiss on her lips. “For good luck.” He winked.
Dylan shimmied down the rope, relieved to see his brother in one piece. “I swear you took twenty years off my life. We’ll talk about this later. Right now, we need to get you out of here and to the hospital to get that foot looked at.”
A lopsided smile creased Derek’s face and then quickly disappeared again.
“How’s Patches?” Derek asked.
“He’s fine. In fact, he led us to you. Special dog you have there. Reckon I ought to let you keep him.” Dylan smiled.
“Really? You mean it this time?”
Ouch. “I mean it. And it’s not because you ran away and worried me sick. I’d already decided to let you keep him, you know. I left you a note this morning.”
“Oh. Okay.” He shrugged.
Dylan had expected more than the nonchalant response he got. Maybe he was destined to never understand kids, or at least not his brother.
“You ready to get out of here?” Dylan asked when he finished tying the ropes for their ascent.
“Yup. I need to thank Patches.”
“And Kayla,” Dylan added.
“She’s here? With you?” His brown eyes shot wide open.
“Yes. She came back from Houston the minute she heard you went missing. She’s probably up there wondering what the holdup is.” Dylan smiled, hoping his brother would give him a sign everything was going to be okay, but if his expression was anything to go by, there was still something troubling the kid.
“But why would she come?” he asked, his voice so low Dylan almost missed the words entirely.
“Because she cares about you.”
Derek looked at him funny. “She cares about you, too.”
“As a friend, yes.” Stuck in a well with his injured brother wasn’t the time or place for this conversation, especially not with Kayla waiting on them thirty feet above their heads.
“No. As more than a friend. I think she like, likes you. I’ve seen her watch you, and I heard her talking.”
He took off his shirt to wrap Derek’s ankle for the climb. “Oh. About what?” he couldn’t help but ask.
“I heard her talking in the barn. Something about loving you. And something else about you. Something not very nice,” Derek said, his voice trembling.
Dylan stopped immediately, shocked by his brother’s words. He didn’t know which part to focus on more, the loving or the something else. In the end, he chose the something else. Derek was fighting tears, and Dylan suspected it wasn’t because of his foot.
His brother was obviously trying to understand something he’d heard, something bigger than he could understand, and he was failing miserably. The loving part was a conversation best had with Kayla, but it gave him renewed hope all wasn’t lost.
“What else did she say? You can ask me anything. You and I don’t have secrets,” he said as he finished adjusting the ropes.
“Why haven’t you ever told me you have a son?” Derek mumbled.
His question came out of nowhere, shocking Dylan speechless for a few seconds.
“I don’t have a son. Where on earth would you get such a damn fool notion?”
“From Kayla.” The two words slipped from Derek’s mouth as if his source was beyond question.
“Kayla said I have a son?” he asked in disbelief, ready to strangle the woman waiting up above. Why would she say such a thing? “Surely you misunderstood her.”
“I know what I heard,” Derek mumbled in defense of his statement.
“I would know if I had a son. A man doesn’t father a child and walk away. You know me well enough to know I take my responsibilities very seriously.”
The first shadow of doubt crossed his brother’s face.
“It’s why I left, you know. I was upset thinking about you taking Patches from me, and then I heard what Kayla said, and I thought everything you’ve been preaching to me didn’t apply to you, and that worst of all, if I had a cousin all these years, I wouldn’t have been so lonely.” It all came out in a rush, but Dylan understood every word.
“I’m sorry, Derek. I don’t have a son.”
“So why did you hurt her? She loved you, and I really like her. It’d be nice if she stuck around. Maybe you could work things out. Seems to me, a woman crying over you should mean something.”
Smart boy for such a young age, and he managed to drive the nail right into the heart of the matter, not understanding the significance of his own words. Loved, as in past tense. Nothing with Kayla had been easy. More than ever, he was determined to make Kayla talk about the past and to find out why the hell she thought he had a son. It would explain some of her anger toward him, but not all.
“Ready to go?” Dylan asked.
“Yep. Moving around is making my foot hurt more.” Poor kid was trying hard to be tough, but the grimace he tried to hide was probably closer to the truth.
“Next time, leave your shoe on. It helps hold down the swelling. Hold on tight around my neck and let me do all the work.”
“Okay.” Derek wrapped his arms around Dylan tighter than needed, but he welcomed the trust.
The discomfort was worth it if it meant Derek was coming home safe and sound. He yanked on the rope and called up to Kayla. “Pull us up!”