He let the words linger between them, well aware she understood the meaning underscoring his comment. If he found proof Benji was dead, shed have to accept that.
But if there was a chance the boy was out there somewhere, hed find him and bring him back to her where he belonged.
* * *
SAGE UNLOADED THE GROCERIES, grateful the couple staying at the inn had taken a day trip and wouldnt be back until bedtime. Breakfast came with the room rental, but lunch and dinner were optional. In addition, she provided coffee and tea and snacks midmorning and afternoon, including fruit, cookies and an assortment of freshly baked pastries and desserts. She usually conferred with the guests on check-in and planned accordingly.
The doorbell rang; then the front bell tinkled that someone had entered. She rushed to the entryway and found Dugan standing beneath the chandelier, studying the rustic farm tools and pictures of horses on the wall.
People who visited Texas wanted rustic charm, and she tried to give it to them.
I came for that picture. Dugan tipped his Stetson out of politeness, his rugged features stark in the evening light.
Come this way. She led him through the swinging double doors to the kitchen. His gaze caught on the tabletop Christmas tree, and she bit back a comment, refusing to explain herself.
Maybe Benji would never come back.
But if he did, his present would be waiting. And they would celebrate all the days and holidays theyd missed spending together the past two years.
Chapter Three
Sage opened a photo album on the breakfast bar and began to flip through it. Dugan watched pain etch itself on her
face as she stared at the pictures chronicling Benjis young life.
A baby picture of him swaddled in a blue blanket while he lay nestled in Sages arms. A photo of the little boy sleeping in a crib, another of him as an infant in the bathtub playing with a rubber ducky, pictures of him learning to crawl, then walk.
Photos of Benji tearing open presents at his first birthday party, riding a rocking horse at Christmas, playing in the sprinkler out back, cuddled on the couch in monster pajamas and cradling his blanket.
Sage paused to trace her finger over a small envelope. I kept a lock of Benjis hair from his first haircut.
Dugan offered a smile, tolerating her trip down memory lane because he understood her emotions played into this case and he couldnt ignore them.
He shifted uncomfortably. He had a hard time relating to family; he had never been part of one and didnt know how families worked. At least, not normal, loving ones. If they existed.
Hed grown up between foster care and the rez, never really wanted in either place.
She brushed at a tear, then removed a picture of Benji posed by the Christmas tree. I took that the day before he went missing.
Dugan glanced at the tabletop tree and realized the same present still lay beneath the trees base. Dammit. Shed kept the tree up all this time waiting on her son to return to open it.
Can I get the photograph back? Sage asked. As you can see, this is all I have left....
The crack in her voice tore at him. Of course. Ill take good care of it, Sage. And maybe hed bring back the real thing instead of just a picture.
But he refrained from making that promise.
Sage, before I get started, we need to talk. There are some questions I need you to answer.
Sage closed the photo album and laid a hand on top of it. He noticed her nails were short, slightly jagged, as if shed been biting them.
What do you want to know?
Do you have any idea why Ron Lewis had Benji in the car with him that day?
No. Sage threaded her fingers through the long, tangled tresses of her hair, hair that was streaked with red, brown and gold. Sheriff Gandt suggested that he was taking Benji Christmas shopping to buy me a present.
A possibility. What do you think?
Ron knew how protective I was of my son. I dont understand why he would have left without telling me or leaving me a note. He knew that Benji was all I had, and that I would panic when I woke up and discovered they were gone.
What about other family? Dugan asked.
Sage sighed wearily. I never knew my father. My mother died the year before I had Benji. A car accident.
He knew this could get touchy. And Benjis father?
Resignation settled in her eyes. Trace Lanier. I met him right after my mother died. She traced a finger along the edge of the photo album. I was grieving and vulnerable. Not that thats an excuse, but we dated a few times. When I discovered the pregnancy, he bailed.
Where is he now?
I have no clue. He worked the rodeos, traveling town to town.
Did he express any interest in seeing his son?
Sage laughed, a bitter sound. No. He didnt even want to acknowledge that Benji was his. In fact, he accused me of lying, of coming after him for money.
Dugan waited, his pulse hammering. Sage didnt strike him as that type at all.
I was furious, Sage said. I told him that my mother was a single mother and that shed raised me on her own, and that I would do the same. I didnt want his money. And I didnt care if I ever saw him again or if he ever met his son.