ONE
Panic sliced through preschool teacher Lydia Caldwell’s awareness when she turned to find that her three-year-old daughter Elsie had disappeared. Ruthie, Elsie’s hiking buddy, sat alone, munching on a peanut butter sandwich. The other ten children were paired up and resting beside the Peewee Trail they were hiking as a class. Just moments before, they’d sat down to eat lunch. Lydia had turned away from her daughter only for a second to help Benson with his juice box.
“Where did Elsie go?” Lydia looked at her daughter’s hiking buddy.
Ruthie set her sandwich down and pointed behind her at the trees that were just off the trail. “She saw a butterfly, Miss Caldwell.”
Lydia’s co-teacher, Angel, a tall woman in her early twenties with round brown eyes and short black hair, gestured that Lydia should go. “We’ve got this. Go find her.”
The other eleven children would be fine with Angel and the volunteer parent, a kind father of twins.
“She’s such a nature lover,” said Lydia, trying to sound casual as she headed toward the trees. A familiar tension coiled through her chest and stomach. When her child was out of eyesight, maternal instinct kicked in. Elsie was probably fine. How far could she get in less than a minute? Pretty far actually, the three-year-old could run like the wind.
Shaking off the rising fear, Lydia pushed through the trees, calling Elsie’s name. Relief spread through her when she saw Elsie’s pink-sequined baseball hat and floral windbreaker. Her daughter turned toward her, placing her finger perpendicular to her lips.
The little girl pointed to a cluster of flowers on the ground where a butterfly flexed its wings. Warmth washed over Lydia when she realized the sacredness of the moment she’d stepped into. To chase a butterfly with her daughter was not an event to be missed.
The butterfly lifted and flew in the direction of another cluster of flowers. Stepping softly, Lydia caught up with Elsie, who reached for her mother’s hand as they moved in unison toward the butterfly. Elsie’s green eyes were wide with wonder. Her daughter had inherited her eye color but not her auburn hair. Elsie’s strawberry-blond hair was from her father’s side of the family.
Though her divorce from her husband was a little over a year old, it still stung. When they’d first met, Sloane had appeared to be everything she’d wanted in a husband, but shortly after they were married, she realized he had a drinking problem he’d hidden from her when they were dating. The drinking got worse after Elsie’s birth. The final straw had been when he’d driven under the influence with Elsie in the car.
As much as she hadn’t wanted a divorce, she wasn’t about to risk her child’s life to keep her marriage together. Now it was just the two of them, though Sloane’s parents remained involved in Elsie’s life. Lydia had no other family. She’d been orphaned at a young age and raised by an efficient but cold aunt who’d recently died.
The butterfly alighted again, and they moved deeper into the woods until the trees opened up into a meadow.
Relishing the warmth of the little hand she held in her own, Lydia scanned the area, looking for the orange wings.
Elsie pointed at the sky, and they hurried to catch up with their flying companion. They came to the edge of a rocky area with a steep drop-off.
Elsie jumped up and down and opened and closed her hands while she looked up. “Goodbye, Mister Butterfly.”
“Thanks for the adventure. Mister Butterfly,” said Lydia to the sky though she could no longer see the insect.
“Do you think he will go all the way across these mountains, Mommy?” Elsie grabbed her mother’s hand and swung it back and forth.
“Probably. Who knows where his journey will take him?” Peering down at the near vertical incline made her lightheaded. Lydia took a step back and guided Elsie away from the ledge as well.
Elsie tilted her head, a smile gracing her lips and bringing light to her eyes. “I think he’s going to fly all the way up to God.” She lifted her arms dramatically and then let them fall at her sides.
“Maybe so.”
Elsie twisted her body back and forth as her gaze fell to the ground a few feet away. “Look, yellow flowers.” She ran the short distance to the flowers Lydia had always called buttercups.
Lydia glanced out at the giant expanse of canyon, thinking about the butterfly. Almost from the day she was born, Elsie had a connection with animals and nature. They needed to get back with the rest of the class, but this moment had been so worth the detour. She took in a deep gratitude-filled breath.
Heavy footsteps pounded behind her.
Before she could turn, a force hit Lydia’s back. She stumbled forward, her feet hovering on the edge of the drop-off, arms flapping. Another blow sent her down the steep incline. She screamed.
“Momeeeeeeee—”
Her daughter’s voice seemed to get cut off.
Lydia somersaulted through the air, her arms and legs crashing against rock. She rolled several more feet before coming to a stop on a narrow ledge. Blue sky filled her field of vision. She struggled for a deep breath, not moving as the rocks and brush above seemed to gyrate. The fall had knocked the wind out of her and made her dizzy.
Someone had pushed her. She could’ve died. Her heart raced as pain shot through her back and legs when she sat up. She’d fallen at least twenty feet. Her first thought was of her daughter.
“Elsie?”
