Baby, Hold On - By Stephanie Bond Page 0,25

of the cabin into the thunderstorm did not bode well for a successful search, Mike acknowledged with a knot in his stomach. He picked up his dog and carried him through the driving rain to the SUV, then deposited him in the rear seat.

Lacey climbed into the passenger seat, her face taut with anxiety. She looked small dressed in a jacket and hat he’d lent her, both of which swallowed her.

Remorse hit him hard for the way he’d talked to her earlier, blaming her for Sheridan’s relapse, when he had her to thank for what progress his dog had made. He’d panicked when Sheridan had backslid into the anxiety attack, had felt guilty for indulging himself while neglecting his dog who had sacrificed so much over the years for strangers. He’d lashed out at Lacey in fear for his dog. But the sweet, sexy woman didn’t deserve anything but his gratitude. Even now, she sat twisted in her seat, stroking Sheridan to keep him calm.

With hands that had been stroking him not so long ago, with the opposite effect. The woman had rocked his world.

He banished the thoughts from his mind and started the SUV, wheeling toward the gathering spot Barry had directed him to. It wasn’t far, but the rain made driving treacherous, especially on Clover Ridge where lightning strikes provided the most illumination. The wind howled and bent smaller trees in half. Downed limbs were strewn across the road, and leaves stuck to the windshield. About a mile from the site, a tree across the road stopped them. There was no driving around it.

Mike killed the engine. “Looks like we’ll have to walk from here.” He glanced over at Lacey. “Are you up for it?” He knew before she answered that she was, that this little slip of a woman was as strong as she was tenderhearted.

She didn’t respond because she was already out of the vehicle. Sheridan hesitated when Mike opened the door, but finally jumped out, his feet tentative when they hit the slippery asphalt. Mike handed Lacey a flashlight and Sheridan’s leash while he shouldered the two bags of emergency equipment he always stored in the vehicle.

They were soaked in less than a minute. They climbed over the downed tree, then followed the road until they saw a row of vehicles. It seemed many people had come out to look for the little boy. An older man directed them down through the woods, which made for a slick, tricky descent. Mike kept his eye on Lacey, wishing he could help her, but she was soldiering on, urging Sheridan forward. At length they reached a clearing where groups of people were mobilizing. Mike recognized Marcus, Kendall, and Porter Armstrong directing what looked like an army of men.

“Mike, over here!”

He swung his head to see Barry waving his arm from a tent that had been erected, probably as a home base and a place to get out of the weather. He turned to make sure Lacey and Sheridan were following, then headed toward where his friend stood next to two SAR dogs—both German shepherds—and a distraught-looking man Mike presumed was the boy’s father.

“Glad you made it,” Barry said, clapping him on the back. “I see you brought Sheridan.”

Mike grunted. “I’m not going to lie to you, man. I don’t know if he’s up for this.”

Barry looked grim. “Let’s hope he is, because we have to find this boy. He was due an insulin shot three hours ago. These dogs haven’t been able to pick up his scent. Sheridan might be our last chance.”

Mike’s chest tightened. “Is this where the boy was last seen?”

Barry nodded and handed him a clear plastic bag that held a dark garment. “We found his jacket by that eucalyptus tree. The father confirmed it’s Benjamin’s. He was wearing a yellow ball cap and jeans, blue tennis shoes.” Barry introduced him to Carl Tyler.

“Please find my son,” the man said in a choked voice.

Mike swallowed against the lump in his throat. “My dog and I will do our best, sir.”

But when he crouched down next to Sheridan, he was struck through with fear. His dog was trembling in the rain, flinching every time thunder boomed overhead. Mike looked up at Lacey. “I need for you to do your thing.”

Lacey seemed surprised, but immediately sank to her knees on the wet ground and took Sheridan’s face in her hands. She maintained intense eye contact, forcing the dog to do the same. Then she massaged the