Chapter Sixty
Bree
Maggie found a new hat in the gift shop and nagged me to buy it as if I was really her mother. I gave in and she squealed with delight.
“What a nice mother you have,” the clerk said as he clipped off the tag for Maggie.
The little girl giggled and happily plopped the hat on her head. She twirled around in it as I bought her a few magazines and some candy for the long bus ride.
Once we were outside, I caught her arm and pulled her close. “Save the hat for on the bus. It’s better for us to look as if we have nothing to hide. Remember?”
Maggie nodded, her smile disappearing.
I was torn. The little girl had been through so much and every small smile felt like a victory over her traumatic experience. Then I remembered that Maggie was not the only child being used as a drug mule by the cartel.
If I could pose as a convincing mother, perhaps I could help Nathan get more of the children back to the US without stirring up the entire force of the cartel.
“Ready to go?” I held out my hand to Maggie.
She took it and skipped the few blocks to the Greyhound bus station. “Is it a really long ride?”
I held out the bag of treats and magazines. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. There’s even a pad of paper and some colored pencils if you get bored.”
Maggie took the bag with another happy squeal. “Thanks!”
While she rooted around and tried some of the candy, I checked the bus schedule. There was a bus leaving for Santa Fe. From there, all she had to do was transfer to the bus heading to Denver, Colorado and there was a stop in Springer, New Mexico.
I bought her a ticket, and we wandered the entire bus station until the crowd thinned out. There was still about an hour before her bus left, and I didn’t like feeling so exposed in the empty station.
“How about some dinner?” I asked.
Maggie hopped up and down. “Cheeseburgers?”
I laughed but my stomach knotted at the thought of how many simple pleasures the little girl had been denied over the past month. “I love cheeseburgers,” I said.
We strolled hand in hand to the fast food restaurant on the corner, and I ordered Maggie a full cheeseburger meal. She grabbed the bag from me with a grin but then looked at the tight, windowless seating area.
“Can we eat outside?” she asked.
I tried to ignore the ashen pallor of her face. Something about the cold concrete and confining feel of the restaurant had robbed Maggie of her sunny disposition.
“As long as we can find a spot in the shade,” I said. “I don’t want you getting sunburned. That would make for a very uncomfortable bus ride.”
“Ugh, you’re such a mom,” Maggie said.
I laughed at that comment but the little girl had hit a cord deep inside me. As we wandered across the street looking for a bench in the shade, I wondered what it would be like to be a mother.
Then I remembered the hollow pain in Mrs. Wheeler’s eyes, and my heart seized up. How could anyone risk such grief?
The same way I was ready to risk everything to be with Nathan.
Maggie found a bench outside a garish tourist trap and tore into her paper bag. She devoured the first cheeseburger while humming a happy little tune. Then she drenched her french fries in ketchup and proceeded to make a sticky mess of herself.
I waited until she was done and then attacked her messy face with a napkin soaked in water. “So, I’m guessing you enjoyed your dinner,” I joked.
Maggie grinned but then her young face turned serious. “You didn’t hardly touch your food.”
“That’s because you ate all my french fries,” I pointed out.
Maggie pulled back from my vigorous napkin wiping and shook her head. “Are you too sad to eat?”
I sighed. “Why would I be sad? You’re safe and heading home. That’s the best news I’ve heard in weeks.”
“You’re not coming with me, are you?” Maggie’s thin shoulders slumped.
I tipped her chin up and looked into her large eyes. “I’m going to make sure you’re safe. Don’t worry about that.”
Maggie nodded. “And then you’re going to make sure he’s safe?”
“Nathan?” I laughed at the idea but nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m going to try to do.”
“I wish you wouldn’t. There are bad men everywhere,” Maggie said.
I took both her hands and squeezed them tight. “But there are good people everywhere, too. You have to remember that, Maggie.”
“Good people like Nathan.” Maggie nodded and squared her shoulders. “And you.”
“Thanks. I’m glad I made the list,” I said.
I reached out with the napkin and started to tickle Maggie under her chin. She giggled and tried to swat the napkin away. We laughed and wrestled on the bench until I saw a police officer walking in our direction.
All he did was smile and tip his hat as he passed by.
Both Maggie and I watched him go. It would have been so easy to call him back. If I told him what had happened to Maggie, would he have believed me? Would he have helped her get back to her mother?
I had to believe it. I wanted Maggie to believe there were good people everywhere.
The only reason I stopped myself from jumping up and calling the police officer back was that he would ask too many questions. There would be so many things I couldn’t explain about myself and about Nathan.
I didn’t even have a real name anymore.
The realization hit me like a tsunami: without Nathan, I was nothing at all. I didn’t even have my old identity as a naive waitress to fall back on.
In truth, I was more of a liability for Maggie than a help. Sure, I’d be a comfort to her on the long bus ride, but what if someone asked to see my ID? We’d have the authorities waiting for us with those millions of questions I couldn’t even begin to answer.
“Is it time to go?” Maggie asked. Her chest still heaved from all the giggling but her face had turned serious again.
“Are you scared?” I asked her.
Maggie tipped her head from side to side while she thought about it. “Scared of being on the bus by myself?”
“It’s a long way to go and you have to transfer to another bus. The driver will help you, but you’ll have to look out for yourself,” I said.
If she couldn’t handle it, my decision would have been made for me. I couldn’t leave Maggie to suffer any more than she already had.
Maggie shrugged. “I used to take the bus to school every day. This is the same, just longer.”
I smoothed down her braid and smiled. “You are the bravest girl I’ve ever met, Maggie Wheeler. If anyone can handle a bus trip, it’s you.”
We headed back to the bus station where I made Maggie use the bathroom before she boarded. While she went, I stepped over to a kiosk and bought a burner cell phone.
Maggie’s eyes opened wide when she saw what I had for her. “A real cell phone?” she gasped.
I nodded. “It’s not much but you’ll be able to call your mother. And I think there are a few games on it so you have something to do if you get bored.”
“And I can call for help if anything happens,” Maggie said.
My stomach twisted up in knots. “I shouldn’t do this. I should come with you.”
Maggie shook her head. “I’ll be safe on the bus. Nathan is the one who needs help.”
I blinked back tears as I walked Maggie to her bus. The little girl gave me a fierce hug, and I almost couldn’t let go. The tears streamed down my face as I thought about buying a ticket to join her.
The bus driver took one look at my tear-streaked face and clambered down the bus steps. “Now, don’t you worry, Mama. Your little girl can sit right next to me. We’ll keep an eye on each other the entire way.”
I babbled about the bus transfer and making the stop in Springer, New Mexico. The driver, a large woman with a hearty voice and wide smile, just nodded and patted my arm.
“Is she too young? I should go get a ticket, too, shouldn’t I?” I said.
“Mom,” Maggie groaned. “I’ll be fine.”
Despite all the reassurances, I stood at the curb and wrung my hands until the bus doors closed. As the bus pulled out of the station, I caught a glimpse of Maggie singing a song with the driver.
She would be fine. And I would check on her, harassing the bus authority until they radioed the driver and assured me that Maggie had indeed made it to Springer, New Mexico.
With one final wave to the departing bus, I turned and stared back over the border. There was only one thing left to do.