Poppy threw her head back and cried.
“Bedtime for you, little one.” Amelia took the baby upstairs, rocked her, and sang to her until she fell asleep. She settled her on the mat, then hurried back downstairs.
A sliver of orange and pink clung to the mountains in the west. What light there was would soon fade from the sky. She couldn’t stay here, doing nothing but worrying and praying.
“Gil, can you stay with Pa? Don’t let him go outside? And listen for Poppy though she won’t likely waken.”
“Why? Where’re you going?”
“To look for Kat. Maybe she’s closer to home and unable to call out.”
Gil rocked his head back and forth. “It’ll soon be dark.”
“I won’t go far, but I have an idea where she could be. Of course, I could be wrong.”
“Where might that be, if ya don’t mind me askin’?”
“You know that place where your ma and Zach’s ma sat among the flowers. I’m going to look there.”
Gil continued to look resistant. “If’n she’s there, why doesn’t she come home?”
“I don’t know. And there’s nothing to say she’s there. Can you watch Pa?” The older man sat at the table, paging through a book as if he knew he should be able to read it but couldn’t—poor man.
“I’ll stay. Now don’t you be long.”
“Not a moment longer than I must.” Her shoes crunched the dry grass as she trotted toward the hill she had in mind. Wasn’t it possible that the place held special memories for Kat even as it did for Zach? Though the only reasonable explanation for why the girl hadn’t come home was that something had happened. Fallen and knocked herself out? Or had Sobel found her out there and?—
No, she wouldn’t go down that twisted trail.
God in heaven, keep her safe and help us find her.
She crested the hill. The flowers had tucked themselves into bed, hiding their colors. Dusk filled the hollow. But—she squinted—someone or something was down there, almost hidden in the dark shadows.
Ignoring a tremor of fear that it might be a wild animal and moving as fast as was safe, she trotted downhill. And stopped. Exhaled loudly. It was Kat, curled up in a ball. Not moving. Then her shoulder twitched as the girl breathed, and Amelia’s own breath eased out in relief.
Not sure why Kat was so still, Amelia squatted in front of her. Even in the fading light, evidence of dried tears lingered on her cheeks. Her fingers curled around a bit of raisin cake.
“Kat.” Amelia waited two seconds and then whispered louder. “Kat.” And then she touched an arm.
The girl woke up in an explosion and sat up. “What? Where am I?” Her eyes focused on Amelia. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
Kat glanced over her shoulder. “Where’s my horse?”
“He came home without you. It’s late, and we’re all worried.”
Pulling her knees to her chest, Kat sighed. “I fell asleep. Didn’t mean to. I was thinking of Ma.…” A sob quivered in her voice.
“This is a special place, full of memories of her.”
“Why’d she have to die?” The words wailed from her.
Daring to chance rejection, Amelia edged closer and put her arm around the girl’s shoulders.
Kat shuddered but didn’t pull away.
“Honey,” Amelia began, hoping the right words would come. “I can’t explain why people die too soon. My grandmother would say God’s ways are beyond understanding and not to be questioned. I can’t say that I agree. I choose to believe God loves us and, even when things aren’t going the way we’d like, He still loves us and guides us.”
