Page 80 of Orphan Girl's Mountain Men

CHAPTER 31

Hailey

Iguess you never really know a person until you see how they react in an emergency.

Some people freeze, unable to do anything. Some people scream and shout, futilely venting their anger and frustration at the world. Some take to alcohol, hoping to numb the pain through intoxication. Some people even ignore it—pretending the problem doesn't exist, or at least, hoping against hope that it will go away again of its own accord. That's not how life works, though. I, of all people, can tell them that.

These guys though—Dean, Reed, and Lennon—they do none of those things. Instead, they swing into action with an military precision that is awe inspiring to observe.

"Put the phone on speaker." Dean's voice is clipped, commanding. Lennon obeys.

"Marsha, it's Dean here. Can you hear me?"

"Oh, Mr. Carter, sir. I'm so sorry." Loud sobbing from the other end, where Marsha is no doubt in a bad state.

"Look, forget that. Whatever's happened has happened, and anyway it ain't your fault. If it's anyone's fault it's ours for leaving her with you. But forget about that, it's not important. What's important is getting her back, and we need your help. I know it'sdifficult, but do you think you can pull yourself together Marsha, and answer some questions? It's real important!"

"Y-yes... I think so." Marsha gasps, her sobs still audible between words. We can all hear the tension in her voice.

"Good girl, Marsha." Dean again, strong, calm, reassuring. "Now, as briefly as you can… tell us what happened."

"Well, we were just fixing hot cocoa to drink with our cookies and talking about her pre-school, and then we heard a noise outside, and Grace said she'd go look to see what it was. Before I could stop her she was out the door… oh, I'm so sorry!" She's about to break down again, but Lennon intervenes.

"Marsha. It's Lennon again. You're doing fine. Tell us what happened next?"

"What? Oh… er… well she vanished out the door and I… I… oh!"

"Go on, Marsha. Just tell us what happened. We need to know the truth. No one's blaming you."

"Yes, yes I know. Well, I assumed she'd come straight back in, so I carried on making the cocoa, and then I realized about three or four minutes had gone by, and she hadn't returned. And… and I went outside, and I called her name, and there was no reply. So… so I… oh God… so I ran into the yard and started shouting out Grace!, Grace!, but she never came. Then I went back inside and searched around to see if she was hiding inside or something. Playing a game. But she wasn't. That's when I called you."

"So, this literally just happened, right now, a few minutes ago?"

"Y-yes.. five or ten minutes ago."

"Alright, alright." This from Dean again. "You did well. Stay there. No one's blaming you, but we might think of more questions to ask you, okay?"

"Okay, Mr. Carter."

"One more thing—did you hear anything… for example a vehicle of any kind?

"No, Mr. Carter, I didn't hear a thing. Not a thing."

"Okay fine. We're coming back now. Stay there, and don't worry, we'll soon find her, it'll all be fine."

Lennon hangs up the line, his face set in a grim frown that suggests to me that if he catches up with the person who's taken his daughter, they'd better be a very fast runner.

"Right. Back to the ranch," Dean barks out. "Lennon, you're our best tracker. You're in charge of looking for evidence of what happened and where they've taken her. Reed, get the emergency kit out and start preparing it. Hailey, I need you to come with us and look after Marsha. She's obviously a mess, and she needs the kind of gentle touch I don't have time for right now. Will you do that for me?"

I nod. "Of course. Anything."

"Good." He nods back. "Okay, let's go!"

The three men stream out of my kitchen and head towards their home. Not a full out sprint, but not a jog either. A pace that's somewhere in between, that will get them there as quickly as possible, but without rendering them useless when they arrive. At the fence, they don't bother with the niceties of using the stile and simply leap the fence, following one after the other up towards their yard.

I grab a hoodie and my head torch, because although it's warm right now, with the sun still bright in the sky, I reckon it might be well past dark before I get home. I unlock the cabinet that contains my Savage Arms Lady Hunter rifle, together with its .243 ammunition. I reach in, pick it up, cradle it in my arm. I cycle the bolt, hearing the reassuring clunk-click of the action. She's all ready to go. Should I take it? I hesitate, unsure.I bought it to scare off bears—could I really aim it at a man?

In the end I decide it'll only slow me down. But I pick up the bear spray canister.That'll have to do.I rapidly thrust the bear spray, hoodie, and headtorch into my rucksack along with my cell phone, sling it onto my shoulders, head to the door. Then, at the last moment I have another thought, and I turn back. If they've taken Grace, and she's only in her PJs, she's going to be cold. I grab my sleeping bag—it's one of those camping ones that packs right down into its own little bag, but when you get into it at night and you draw up the zip so there's only your nose poking out, you're as warm as toast. You can't move an inch inside it of course, but that doesn't matter, because you're meant to be sleeping anyway, and the important thing is that you're sure as Hell warm enough. Perfect! I shove that in my rucksack too, along with everything else.

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