Evidence of Life - By Barbara Taylor Sissel Page 0,11

the clean dishes. “As much as I dread it, I should be the one to tell her that her son and granddaughter are missing.”

“I’ll sit with you then.”

“I’m worried she’s alone. I wish I knew a friend to call for her, who could be with her. She’ll be devastated.”

Kate stowed the glasses Abby handed her in the cabinet. “Won’t her housekeeper be there? Maybe she’ll answer. It might help to soften the news.”

But it wasn’t Louise’s housekeeper who answered Abby’s call. It was Louise herself.

“There must be more that can be done,” she said through her tears. “You aren’t thinking clearly, Abby. Of course, you aren’t.” Louise blew her nose, and Abby heard the jangle of her bracelets. “I’m coming there.”

“No, Louise, you can’t.”

“What? Of course, I can. For heaven’s sake, I’m Nicholas’s mother. I’m Lindsey’s grandmother.”

“I know, but the roads are still closed. They’re asking people to stay—”

“I’ll fly then. It will be quicker in any case. You can pick me up in Austin or San Antonio.”

“The airports are closed, too, Louise. I’m so sorry.” Abby meant it. She and Louise had never had an easy relationship, but that didn’t seem to matter now. “I’ll call you as soon as I know anything. I promise.”

“What is going to happen to me?” Louise asked after an uncertain silence.

Abby closed her eyes. It was no surprise really that even now Louise would be most concerned for her own welfare. “Consuelo is there, isn’t she? Can she stay with you?”

“Yes, but I mean if Nick is— If he’s—”

But Abby wouldn’t allow Louise to say it. “They’ll find them,” she said, and she believed it with all her heart.

* * *

Jake didn’t make it to the ranch until late on Wednesday, three days after the rain stopped. By then much of the power in the area had been restored, and most of the primary roads and highways were open. Abby saw him from the porch and went down the steps to meet him, and once he was out of his car, she hugged him to her, fiercely, and he allowed it.

“Anything?” He stepped out of her embrace, looked anxiously down into her face.

She shook her head and, reaching up, traced her fingertips across his brow. Although he had her paler coloring, he had Nick’s dark hair, and he was as tall as Nick and as broad-shouldered. In fact, Jake’s resemblance to his dad had never been clearer to her than it was now, and somehow it hurt her even as it pleased and relieved her. She said, “The helicopter’s gone up several times, but there’s no sign of them or the Jeep.”

Abby had asked the search and rescue pilots to take her up with them. She said she would have a better chance of spotting the Cherokee from the air than they would—it was her car, after all—but they refused, politely. Still, she was hopeful. She thought they would keep going, keep trying, and she was dumbfounded when a few days after Jake’s arrival, they packed up and left as if their job was done. Jake was angry. He asked to borrow George’s pickup to continue the effort on his own.

“I’ll take you,” George said. “That way you can look while I drive. We’ll go until you want to stop.”

Kate said she would drive Abby into town, and they went along slowly, giving Abby ample time to examine the roadsides. Kate’s kindness, and George’s, their patience with Abby and Jake, moved Abby to tears. She tried to thank Kate, and when she couldn’t, Kate took her hand. She knew. She said, “It’s all right.”

They arrived in Bandera and joined an uneasy crowd gathered on Main Street, where it looked down toward Highway 16, and they stared in dumb amazement at the Medina River still pouring itself out of its banks and over the highway intersection.

* * *

A week went by and then another, and the earth baked and dried under a heedless sun and gave them nothing. Abby would never remember much about that time, the losing-hope time is how she would come to think of it. She couldn’t look at Jake; she couldn’t meet her own eyes in the mirror. She didn’t want to know what their sort of despair looked like.

Kate brought it up, though, one day as they were driving back to the ranch after yet another fruitless roadside search. She touched Abby’s knee and said, “You know I love you, chickie, right? That I would only ever want what’s