Chapter 43
“Caleb.” Isaiah’s whisper tore through the descending darkness.
“What? You’re supposed to be sleeping.” Caleb harshly uttered the words, determined not to betray himself by showing how welcome his brother’s voice was.
“I . . . I’m scared. I heard something. I think there’s a bear out there or maybe a mountain lion. Uncle Kade said there’s a man that has a pack of dogs and does nothing but hunts mountain lions. Makes lots a money ‘cause there’s so many of them.”
“No one better be doin’ any hunting on Uncle Kade’s land.” Caleb puffed his chest out in a show of bravado. “Anyway, there’s nothing out there. Especially not a mountain lion. They’ve probably been all hunted. You’re being a sissy.” He swallowed hard and strained his eyes, peering into the surrounding shadows and looking for Isaiah’s mountain lion, just in case.
“Well,” Isaiah persisted, “what if there was one left, and he’s sitting out there just waiting for it to get darker when he can pounce and eat both of us? We don’t even have a fire to scare him off.”
Any thoughts of sleep were banished as, in unspoken agreement, they moved closer together.
The familiar green pines had changed their shapes. What had been boughs of evergreen were now elongated arms with fingers stretching toward the cave. Even the brush had altered its appearance, becoming taller, thicker, and ready to hide anything that roamed the blackness.
“I want to go home, Caleb. I’m hungry. You should have packed more food,” Isaiah whined.
“We can’t, Isaiah. We don’t have a home. Remember?”
“Yes, we do. Uncle K said he’d always take care of us.”
“They why’s he sending us away to that darned pre-school?”
Isaiah fell silent, scooting even closer to Caleb.
“Maybe we could talk him outta it. Promise we’d be real good.”
“Naw. We’ll just build us a cabin and take care of ourselves.” Caleb’s voice was low and filled with doubt.
“You don’t know how to build a cabin, Caleb. You’re lying.”
“Am not.” But the words lacked the earlier confidence.
Just then an owl gave a mournful hoot. It was answered by a sepulchral cry from deep within the branches of a nearby pine. Heads swiveled, and two sets of eyes fastened on the lone tall tree that stood off to itself, a menacing sentinel keeping watch over the forest below as it slowly went through its unnatural metamorphosis.
The whir of wings vibrated the air, blending with Caleb and Isaiah’s screams. The pine shook as a large bird settled itself on a branch, ruffled its feathers, and turned its neckless head toward the cave, yellow eyes searching and settling on the two boys entwined in each other’s arms.
“Help.” Isaiah screamed.
“Help.” Caleb joined in, all thoughts of being the older, braver brother banished.
Their cries carried on the night air.
Kade pulled his horse up short and threw out his arm, halting Declan’s progress.
“Listen,” he barked.
“Heeelp.”
Kade spurred his horse forward. “That’s Caleb.” The statement was thrown over his shoulder, and as one with his horse, he raced toward the fading sound.
“Careful, Kade,” Declan called. “It’s too dark to see well and not worth risking our horses or our lives. We know the direction of the cries.”
The warning, ignored, fell on the broad back of the man in front, urging his horse faster. He knew where he was. It was the deer trail he and Caleb had ridden weeks ago while rounding up the cattle.
The screams pierced not only the air, but they also pierced Kade’s heart. His boys were in danger. The sound was thrown back from the hills as if on top of him. He reined in his horse, cursing the night and his inability to see through the dark.
“Where the hell are they?” he muttered as he rose in the saddle, scanning the forest. He saw nothing but inky shadows.
Then he remembered the cave that had captured Caleb’s attention. His eyes crawled up the side of the mountain. There. Was that the huddled forms of two boys?
“Help! Help!” Their shrieks, sharp as arrows, roared down the mountain’s side.
“Caleb. Isaiah,” he called. “Boys, it’s Uncle Kade. It’s okay, I’m here.”
Their screams drowned out his words of reassurance.
Declan pulled up alongside him.
“That’s them,” Declan said, pointing to the cave and grinning in relief. “They’ve got good lungs.”
“Stop screaming,” Kade bellowed. Silence reigned. “Declan’s with me. We won’t let anything hurt you. Stay there, I’m coming up.”
“Uncle K,” Isaiah cried out. “There’s a mountain lion with yellow eyes in the top of that big pine tree. Please hurry. He’s going to eat us.”
Kade had dismounted and started the climb. He paused hearing Isaiah’s warning. A mountain lion in the top of that spindly pine? He smiled as he looked up in the tree and saw the owl, yellow eyes and all.
He reached the face of the cave and was almost bowled back down the hill as two shaking bodies hurled themselves into his arms.
“Uncle K, Uncle K,” they sobbed.
Kade held them tight against him, savoring their small boy smell and the knowledge that they were safe. He knew then he loved these two trouble-makers. They were his, and he’d never let anything happen to them.
Not trusting himself to say anything, he carried them back to a waiting Declan. Their tears soaked his shirt. Part of him wanted to scold and shake some sense into them for the fright they’d given everyone. The other part wanted to never let them out of his arms.
Just before they reached Declan, three shots filled the air, alerting the others the boys were found.
Declan reached out for one of the boys, but Kade shook his head. Awkwardly he mounted his horse, nestling a small body on both thighs, still reluctant to lessen his grip on them. Two faces were buried against his chest as he took the reins in one hand and kneed his horse forward. There’d be some explaining to do, but for now, Kade’s predominating thoughts were his boys had been found unharmed, and they were on their way home.
~ ~ ~
Two boys, their faces streaked with dried tears, sat scraping the sides of their bowls, getting every last drop of ice cream. Six adults watched, smiles greeting Caleb and Isaiah’s every move, and every so often someone would reach out and touch a boy, confirming they were safe.
Finally, bowls were pushed back and yawns took over.
“Okay, boys,” Kade said. His cold tone brought a stillness to the room. Four eyes widened, focusing on his face.
“I want to know why you two chose to run away. And I expect the truth.”
Isaiah’s small chin trembled.
“Well?” Kade demanded, never lowering his gaze.
Caleb pursed his lips and drew in a breath. “It’s my fault,” he blurted out.
“That so?” Kade’s eyes drilled Caleb.
“Uh, huh.” Head hung, voice quivering.
“Look at me when I talk to you, Caleb.” Kade pushed back the urge to soften his voice. He had to force himself to be firm.
Caleb raised his head.
“Okay. It was your fault. Go on.”
“Kade,” Hope touched his sleeve. “Can’t this wait until tomorrow? The boys are exhausted. They’ve been through a rough time.”
“No, it can’t wait. We’ve all been through a rough time. And,” he turned back to the two boys, “it could have been a lot rougher. We could still be out there hunting you. You could have been injured, or worse yet, met up with an animal looking for a tasty meal. I think you need to realize running away from a problem doesn’t solve it.”
Tears flowed down Isaiah’s cheeks, and Caleb swallowed hard, choking his tears back.
“I was worried,” Kade continued. He looked around the table. “We all were. Your actions brought a lot of fear and anxiety to our home. I thought I’d lost you, maybe for good. I thought I’d never have my two boys by my side again. I was sad.”
“Then why are you sending us away?” Caleb demanded in a quivery voice. “Why don’t you want us here anymore?”
Kade frowned. A perplexed furrow creased his brow. “What?”
“You don’t like us anymore,” Isaiah sobbed.
“What in the he . . . heck are you talking about? Caleb? Let’s have some answers.”
“I heard. You told Miz Hope you’re sending us away to a pre-school.” His voice grew louder, accusing. “You said it would do us good that we had time on our hands. You said tomorrow you’d look into it.”
“Yeah?” Kade shook his head. “And that made you run away?”
“We don’t want to go. We love it here, right, Caleb? Please, Uncle K, don’t send us away. I’ll never put mice under my bed again.”
Kade raised his hand. “Hold on, boys. Nothing’s making sense. Nobody’s sending you away.”
“No pre-school?” Caleb asked.
“Well, sure, you’re going to a pre-school.”
“Don’t send us away.” Both boys broke in, pleading.
“Stop. Not another word out of either of you. Listen.” Kade took a deep breath. “Do you know what a pre-school is?” he asked softly.
“Nooo.”
“Well, it’s a fun place. You’ll have lots of other kids to play with. They have snacks, play games, sing songs, and you’ll learn to read and write your name. But best of all,” he paused, “you’ll come home every day when school is out.”
“Huh?” Isaiah sniffed back his tears, and Caleb quickly wiped his arm across his face.
“That’s right. Four days a week, one of the hands will take you to the school in town every morning, and return to pick you up when school’s out. You’ll come back home where I’ll be waiting to hear everything you’ve done and learned.”
Both boys bounded from their chairs and crawled onto Kade’s lap.
“We don’t ever have to leave?”
“Nope.”
“This is our forever home?”
“Yep.”
“We belong to you?”
“You belong to me. And as soon as I can, I’m going to adopt you. You’ll be Caleb and Isaiah McKune. How does that sound?”
Cries of delight were his answer.
Kade turned to a silently watching Jesse. In a low voice said, “Jesse McKune has a nice sound, don’t you think?”
A look of relief filled Jesse’s face, followed by a wide grin.
“Sure does. A real nice sound.”
“Now,” Kade said, standing the boys on the floor, facing him. “You know you did wrong.”
Heads nodded.
“Well, there has to be punishment.”
“Kade.” The watching adults muttered his name.
Kade ignored them. “When you do something wrong, you have to be prepared to take the consequences. Do you know what I mean?”
“We’re going to get beat?”
“What? Hell no. No one will ever lay a hand on either one of you again. Understand?”
More nods.
“Okay. There will be no dessert for a week.”
Looks of wonder passed between the boys, followed by triumphant smiles. This wasn’t so bad. Anyone could give up Miz Hope’s oatmeal cookies.
“And,” Kade continued, “Gran will be back baking starting tomorrow. Right, Gran?”
Gran caught on quickly. “Right, Kade. I was going to start with chocolate cake and throw in a double batch of chocolate chip cookies. The next day I’m making chocolate cream pie. Or should I make strawberry short cake? Maybe apple pie? I think I’ll do double batches of everything.”
Kade raised his eyebrows, biting back the grin that threatened to erupt.
“I can hardly wait, Gran. How about you, boys?”