“That’s my dad’s business partner,” he said. “Mikey.”

  “Don’t bore our guest with things she’s not interested in, son,” Mr. Adair said.

  Eden almost said she was interested and wished she had her notebook to prove it, but she remembered she’d left it at Grandma’s on her bedside table.

  The man named Mikey parked the van and got out. White male, midthirties, approximately five-feet-ten-inches tall, stocky build with light brown hair and a mustache. He looked over toward Eden and Grady and started to say something, but Mr. Adair had gotten up to meet him, which was too bad, because it meant Eden couldn’t hear what they were saying. They stood a little ways away. Mikey started talking first. Mr. Adair nodded a few times, but he didn’t look very happy. Mikey handed him an envelope, and Mr. Adair took it. Mr. Adair said something, then shook his head. Mikey smiled sort of like the mean girls at school did, and then pointed over toward her and Grady. Mr. Adair looked mad and said something else. Mr. Adair turned around and walked away then, and Mikey smiled again and got into the van. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Johnny,” he hollered out and waved at her and Grady. Eden sniffed and turned away. She didn’t like him. She didn’t know why, she just didn’t, and just on a hunch she looked back and made a note of the license plate. She was running it over in her mind to memorize it when Mr. Adair sat down again. He looked sad, so Eden thought she’d better leave.

  She checked the time on her night ops watch. She had tried not to think about Grandma and Uncle Joseph, but she knew she couldn’t put it off forever.

  “I’d better go home now,” she said.

  Mr. Adair was still frowning, but he stopped and looked at her when she spoke. “I’ll drive you,” he said. “You can put your bike in the back of the truck.”

  But Eden shook her head so hard her hair got in her eyes and stuck to the marshmallow around her mouth. “No,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”

  Mr. Adair looked at her for a minute, then nodded. “Grady, get your bike and see Eden home.”

  Grady nodded and flew to his bike. The two of them walked to the end of the graveled road; then Grady went first and she went after.

  Miranda stayed in the library until it closed at nine. After she had named the object of her search to her new acquaintance, Eden, she wondered why she had been so slow to think of the obvious. To understand what Noreen had done with her child and why, she needed to understand Noreen. The key wasn’t in trying to guess at some random spot in the universe and go there to find her baby. The only way Noreen’s decision would make sense would be when Miranda understood the one who had made it.

  Her mother’s life held the clues that would lead to the baby. Miranda just knew it. The only hint she had was what Aunt Bobbie had said. Mama had put the baby with someone she trusted. To know who she trusted, Miranda would need to understand her wounds. When she knew the wounds, she would understand the medicine needed. When she knew who had administered it, then she would know the truth. She marveled. She shook her head at the direction her search was leading. Back over ground she had been told to ignore, into caves she had been warned away from. She had to admit she had been perfectly happy to leave them unexplored. But now she knew that the only way out was to go further in. All this time she’d been looking for her baby. She should have been searching for her mother.

  She pulled out another stack of reference books, and the research was much simpler now that she had a definite person to search for. She could see very quickly that it would begin by getting her mother’s vital records. Birth certificate, death certificate, marriage license. She tried to remember. Where had they been when they married? Mother had come from either Virginia or West Virginia. She wasn’t sure which. An Internet search revealed that the Virginia and West Virginia Departments of Vital Statistics would provide her with copies of all the documents for a fee. However, she didn’t know everything she needed to fill out the application. A phone call to Aunt Bobbie was in order. Perhaps now that Mama was gone and Aunt Bobbie had given her the baby’s picture, details of their early life would be a little more forthcoming.

  She stood up and stretched, returned the books to the shelves, and left the library just as the staff were turning out the lights. The night was cool and cloudless, the moon full. It was beautiful. She could hear crickets and frogs, and a gentle breeze shushed the trees. She got in Mr. Cooper’s car and rolled down the window, letting the cool air blow on her face as she drove. She headed toward the motel, and after a moment she passed two kids on bikes coming toward her on a side road. One of them was Eden. Behind her was a boy.

  “Hey, Eden,” she called.

  “Oh, hi,” Eden answered, as casually as if she rode her bike on dark roads every day of the week.

  “What are you guys doing out here?”

  The boy looked alarmed, Eden more inconvenienced.

  “She’s okay,” Eden said to the boy, turning halfway around. The boy still looked unconvinced.

  Miranda had to smile. He was a beanpole, and although it was dark, she could tell he had red hair and freckles. He reminded her of Opie on Andy Griffith.

  “What are you two doing out here so late?” she repeated.

  “He was just riding me home,” Eden said, and it was not lost on Miranda that she hadn’t answered the question.

  “Get in and I’ll drive you,” she said.

  Eden looked back at the boy and shrugged. “Okay,” she said.

  Miranda put the car in park and got out to open the trunk. She looked up and the boy had disappeared. “Wow, that was quick,” she said.

  “He’s like that,” Eden said matter-of-factly. “A little bit shy.”

  They got the bike situated, Eden got in and buckled her belt, and Miranda was just pulling out onto the road again when she saw flashing lights behind her. “Oh no,” she said. “It couldn’t be!”

  But it was. The same unmarked cop car that had pulled her over a few weeks ago was behind her now.

  Eden looked just as alarmed as she felt. In fact, she ducked down as if she expected a hail of bullets.

  “This jerk of a cop has been harassing me ever since I got to town.” Just as the words left Miranda’s mouth, the lights went on, quickly followed by a whoop of the siren.

  She exhaled noisily and pulled over to the side of the road.

  “Can you get out and talk to him?” Eden asked.

  Miranda frowned and was just getting ready to ask why Eden didn’t want to encounter the police when a shadow loomed in front of the window. His face peered in again. His expression began as incredulous and quickly sobered into grim, barely disguised anger.

  “Get out of the car, Eden.”

  “What next? Are you going to tell her to keep her hands where you can see them?” Miranda burst out. “She’s a kid, for crying out loud, not a perp. And I’m not kidnapping her. I’m giving her a ride home.”

  The policeman gave Miranda a withering glare. “Do what I said,” he told Eden.

  She started to open the door, but Miranda stopped her, putting a hand on her arm.

  “Hold on just a minute,” she said. “Who do you think you are? You don’t have any right to tell this child to get out of my car.”

  “I don’t have to explain myself to you,” he said, and the glare became deeper.

  “I think you do,” she said. “You’re forcibly taking this child, and she doesn’t want to go with you.”

  “It’s okay,” Eden said, looking dismayed at the turn of events.

  “No. It’s not okay.” Miranda turned toward the policeman again. “I’m a private citizen doing nothing unlawful.”

  “Except transporting a minor, who is away from home without permission, and, I suspect, driving without insurance. May I see your driver’s license and proof of insurance?”

  Miranda shook her head and fumed. “I’m being harassed,” she said. “And I still want an explanation.”

  “Eden!” His voice was raised. “Step out of the car right now.”

  She opened the door and got out. “I’m sorry, Uncle Joseph,” she said.

  Miranda closed her eyes. Uncle Joseph. Well, that was great. Just great.

  “Your driver’s license and insurance card?” he repeated.

  She handed him her license and waited while he wrote out another ticket. City Hall was closed, so at least she wouldn’t have him following her back to town.

  She signed the ticket and threw her copy on the seat beside her.

  “Miranda, can I get my bike?” Eden asked in a small voice.

  “Sure,” she said and got out and opened the trunk.

  Policeman Joseph grabbed it and had it stowed in the back of his car before she could move to do it herself. Eden got into the passenger side of the unmarked car looking unhappy. Uncle Joseph followed Miranda back as she got back into Mr. Cooper’s Caddy.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked quietly. His eyes were cold, his expression grim.

  She gave him what she hoped was an equally cold glare. “That’s none of your business.”

  He eyed her, and she wondered if he would arrest her on the spot. He seemed to be thinking the same thing. “I need to get her home. Her grandmother is worried sick. Otherwise I’d arrest you.”

  “On what charge?” Her tone was outraged, her voice raised. Eden looked very unhappy.

  “Aiding in the delinquency of a minor, for starters.”

  “Oh, that’s absolutely ridiculous, and you know it. I saw her and a boy riding in the dark and offered to drive her home. That’s all. You can ask at the library. I’ve been there—alone—all evening.”

  He lost the know-it-all look and glanced back at Eden. When he looked back at Miranda, his expression still wasn’t friendly, but at least she didn’t think she’d be tossed into the pokey tonight.

  “If I find you driving that car again without insurance, I’ll have it impounded.”

  Miranda didn’t answer. Her tongue was feeling raw and tooth-marked. She started the car.

  He stood there watching her as she drove away, then turned away toward his own car. She drove back to the motel muttering and shaking her head and feeling sorry for poor Eden.

  chapter 27

  *

  Ruth waited by the window, watching for Joseph and Eden to return. Joseph had still been at the office when she had called him, a state of affairs for which she usually scolded him, but tonight she was grateful. He had come straight over. She hadn’t had time to tell him why Eden had been so upset. As soon as he understood that she had run off again, he had become furious in that tight-lipped, controlled way he had. “I’ll find her,” he had said. Ruth had no doubt he would.

  She had been waiting no more than twenty-five minutes or so when he returned. She could see Eden’s outline in the passenger seat, and she said a quick prayer of thanks. No one spoke when they came in. Eden gave her a guilty look and then ran up the stairs. Joseph shook his head.

  “I don’t understand what’s come over her,” he said. “She was doing fine. She likes her adventures, but there was nothing like this.”

  “I’m afraid I understand,” Ruth said, and she watched his face harden even more as she explained about the telephone call from David and Sarah.

  “I think she feels abandoned,” Ruth said.

  “Anyone would.” A tightening of his jaw was the only sign of emotion.

  “Well, what would you do?” she challenged, suddenly tired of the tug-of-war between these warring factions of her family. “David is lying helpless in a hospital bed. If it’s all we can do to keep up with her, how do you expect him to manage?”

  “It’s not him I’m expecting something from,” Joseph said.

  Ruth closed her eyes and prayed for patience and wisdom. When will you give up this bitterness? she wanted to fling at him. When will you forgive? She said nothing. Just took another deep breath, prayed silently, and faced the situation before her now. “We need to decide what to do about Eden’s behavior tonight,” she said as calmly as she could.

  Now his face did soften. He sat down in the chair and ran his hands through his hair. He looked tired.

  “Have you had any supper?” she asked.

  He looked surprised, then shook his head. “No. I guess not.”

  “Come with me,” she invited, and he followed her into the kitchen and sat down at the small table while she worked. She put on a pot of coffee and brought out her old cast-iron skillet. She quickly chopped up an onion and cubed three potatoes, seasoning them and browning them in the skillet. She rummaged around in the refrigerator and found a green pepper and some ham to chop up and add to the pan. When it was all sautéed, she added three eggs, threw a handful of grated cheese on top, and served her son a steaming plateful, along with toast and a cup of coffee, then put the kettle on to make herself some tea.

  Joseph tucked into his food. Ruth went upstairs to see if Eden was hungry, but she was already asleep, lying fully dressed on top of the bedspread. Besides, from the sticky residue around her mouth, Ruth judged that wherever she’d been, they’d served refreshments. She pulled the quilt up over Eden’s shoulders, shut the door quietly, and went back downstairs.

  Joseph was finishing up his meal and looking a bit more cheerful when she returned to the kitchen, and her water was boiling. She made herself a cup of her friend Vi’s own organically grown calming tea with chamomile and passionflower. She sipped and prayed quietly, and between the Lord and the medicinal herbs and the plate of hobo hash and cup of good, strong coffee, both she and Joseph were calmer when they faced each other over Joseph’s empty plate.

  “Thank you,” he said, leaning back and sighing in satisfaction. “I don’t think I’ve had anything to eat since this morning and nothing that good since the last meal you cooked for me.”

  Ruth thought about lecturing him but smiled instead. “You know you’re welcome, son.” She sipped and he sipped, and after a moment he spoke, rubbing his hand over his mouth and chin before he did so. She had heard that meant something in body language, but she couldn’t remember what. She felt like pulling out her hair, a less subtle cue.

  “So tell me again about Eden’s conversation with David,” he said quietly.

  She shrugged. “I don’t think there’s much more to tell,” she said. “I wasn’t listening in, but from her side of the conversation I gathered David told her they aren’t coming back this month, as they’d first thought.”

  Joseph was silent then, as was she. Probably both of them were realizing that coping with trauma and rehabilitation would be made even more difficult by Eden, the brave and the free. She smiled. Joseph did, as well.

  “She is a handful,” he said.

  Ruth nodded.

  “Okay.” Joseph nodded.

  Ruth was again amazed at his strength. How many times had she seen him do this? Face some trouble or trial, and after a brief surge of emotion, set it aside and begin to “work the problem,” as he would say.

  “I guess we need to decide how to handle this episode.”

  “Where was she?” Ruth asked.

  Joseph’s face creased into worry. “She was in the car with a woman I’ve seen around. She said Eden was riding her bike with a boy, and she offered her a lift.”

  “A boy?”

  He nodded.

  “You don’t suppose she’s . . .”

  He dismissed the thought with a shake of his head. “Nah. Probably just a buddy. I don’t see any of the signs of anything more. But it worries me. If it’s the same friend as last time, they were playing up on Amos Schwartz’s land, and it looked like they weren’t the only ones. Somebody was squatting up there—camping out—and I wonder if it was Travelers. It worries me that she and her friend were so close to people who might have been up to no good. Knowing Eden, she was doing surveillance or some such.”

  Ruth felt her usual dismay at Joseph’s suspicions. She supposed it was his job, but she wished he could be a little more trusting.

  “Besides,” he said, “I don’t know any of the players.”

  Ruth agreed. “However, I’m a little glad she has some sort of friend, at least. But I’d like to meet him. He must live within riding distance,” she said, and smiled at Eden’s resourcefulness in spite of her concern.

  “I know. But this woman bothers me. I have a feeling she’s mixed up in something.”

  “Why?”

  “She drives without insurance,” he said, barely suppressing a smile. “And she’s got a mouth on her.”

  “Sounds like a lot of people around here,” Ruth said dryly and took another sip of her tea.

  “Actually, I don’t know why I don’t trust her. JDFR, I guess.”

  Ruth smiled. Just Doesn’t Feel Right was Joseph’s name for times when his instincts warned him of something his brain didn’t see. She had taught both boys about it growing up, calling it the “uh-oh feeling.” “Always listen to the uh-oh feeling,” she’d said. “You don’t need to figure out why. When you feel it, just get away as quickly as you can. You can understand later.” She nodded at Joseph soberly. If his gut was telling him there was more to the situation than appeared obvious, he was probably right.

  “I’m looking into her,” he said. “I’m going to run her through the system tomorrow and see if she has a record.”

  “And I’ll see if I can find out more about this boy,” Ruth said. “But in the meantime, what do you think? Another restriction? And how long this time?”

  Joseph paused and rubbed his mouth again.

  She was going to have to look up that body language thing.

  Finally he shook his head. “You’re always talking about the healing power of grace,” he said with a wry smile. “Let’s try it out.”

  Ruth felt a rush of peace, as if her small ship of emotions had been righted. “That sounds good,” she said. “But I’ll talk to her about her choices first.”

  “So will I,” Joseph said.

  He got up, carried his plate to the sink, and patted her clumsily on the shoulder. She laid her small hand over his large one, and it felt as if their strength merged. Perhaps they would make it through this time after all.

 

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