A mess like this is exactly what I don’t need, and while some of it isn’t directly CJ’s fault, I feel like I’ve been duped. So far, CJ’s shown promise. But if he’s going to react like a hothead under stress, this is not the job for him.
When I slow to merge onto the 95, a flash of color from my rearview mirror catches my eye. “What the?”
CJ spins around just as some of the stacked wood shifts, and I get a better look at what’s back there.
“Holy fuck.” CJ practically claws at the back window. “Pull over!”
“Hang on.” I decelerate carefully to the side of the road, beneath the overpass. It’s dark under here, the silence punctuated by the hiss of passing cars on the freeway above us.
On my way out of the cab, I snatch my flashlight and click it on. CJ and I walk toward the trailer, the scent of exhaust mixing with the cut wood’s clean scent.
When my flashlight beam arcs over the place in the woodpile where the kids are hiding, a pair of terrified eyes peeks out, framed by dark brown curls.
“Hey there,” CJ says in a soothing voice, crouching so he’s level with them.
I lower the flashlight beam so I’m not blinding them, and press my free hand to my chest. “I’m Rowdy, and this is CJ.”
They must have crawled into the trailer at the barn. “Gweneth and McKenzie, right?” I ask.
CJ shoots me a sharp look. But he likely hasn’t studied these girls’ faces the way I have.
Gweneth nods, but her eyes are tense with fear. She’s shivering,with her arms wrapped around her younger sister McKenzie, who is crying.
Questions unspool in my mind but I set them aside because the most important thing we need to do right now is protect them.
“You girls are safe now, okay?” I say past the prickly lump in my throat. “It’s going to be all right.”
CJ glances my way again, his eyes pleading.
“I want Mommy,” the younger girl says in a tense rush, followed by a sob.
“We’re going to help you get to her,” I say before CJ can start making promises we might not be able to keep. It won’t be as simple as rolling up to Sadie Travers’ front door.
“First let’s get you both out of the trailer,” CJ says. “You can ride with us in the truck, where it’s warm.”
The older sister nods. “Okay,” she whispers.
CJ and I get to work deconstructing their hiding spot. The girls are indeed shivering, and it’s no surprise considering how cold it must have been back here exposed to the wind, plus they’re wearing only thin leggings and T-shirts. Who dresses their kids like this in the middle of winter? McKenzie’s cheek is smudged with dirt, and Gweneth’s feet are bare.
Someone helped them with this plan. Someone strong enough to quietly re-stack the wood around them. Someone quick enough to cover them up.
How many more children are waiting for help?
It makes me want to get the hell gone, before Sheriff Thomas shows up and forces the girls into his custody, where I’m sure they’ll end up back inside that compound.
I need to call Luke Ballard. And the Canyon County Sheriff’s Department.
“I’ve got you, honey,” CJ says, offering his hands to Gweneth. He lifts her out of the trailer. I reach for McKenzie. Her little rib cage is so small in my hands. Like a baby bird’s.
At the truck, I move some gear around so they can sit next to each other. They’re so thin I’m able to strap them into the same seat. They hold hands and sit so stiff and quiet. I shouldn’t take offense that they don’t trust us, but my anger is quickly spiraling out of control.
Protecting a child’s innocence is a father’s most important job. Maybe we can’t shield our kids from every hurt, but we at least need to prioritize their well-being, be their safe landing.
Gweneth and McKenzie’s father has failed them. Repeatedly. Was he the one who kidnapped them, forcing them back into a life they didn’t choose?
“You girls like butterscotch?” I pull out the dime store package I stashed in the console yesterday.
“We’re not supposed to eat sweets,” Gweneth says with a hard swallow.