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“Have you heard yet about the nativity scene?” The good feelings in his chest melted away, leaving only the weight of disappointment. “A letter came yesterday.”
“And?”
“I’m a shepherd boy.”
“Aw, sweetie. I know how much you wanted to be Joseph.”
Hearing “sweetie” from anyone else would have made him clench his teeth, but Sara looked as if she felt even worse about the news than he did. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Well, of course it does! You were so excited...” She hugged him again, then stepped back with both hands on his shoulders. “But you still have a part, and lots of people don’t get to be in it at all.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“And next year—hey, you’ll be even taller and look even more like a Joseph. With your experience this year you’ll have a better chance, right?”
“Were you ever a cheerleader or something?”
She laughed. “Are you kidding? I was a scrawny kid with freckles and glasses, and I never got picked for anything. I just figure it’s always good to look for a bright side when things don’t go the way you hope.”
Long after she left, Josh watched his trains run through the villages and countryside scenes on his train table, and thought about the two grown-ups who’d come to see him.
They were both just about the nicest people he’d ever met, except for his mom and dad, and he wished he could do something nice for them in return. But what could an eight-year-old kid do that would matter?
He thought about it all morning, but it wasn’t until afternoon he realized that he already knew what each of them wanted.
Now he only had to figure out how to make it happen.
* * * *
AFTER VISITING JOSH, Sara loaded Harold into her SUV and headed out to Dry Creek Road. Once again she stood at the locked gates of Stark’s Salvage trying to catch sight of Leon, and once again the house was dark.
Nathan had gone out to talk to Leon about Earl’s death and had called the county social workers. They’d gone out the next day and the day after that, but apparently Leon had refused to cooperate with their assessment efforts, and now he seemed to have disappeared. Where could he be?
Concerned, Sara had left a message for Nathan yesterday morning. Later he left a message on her machine, saying that he’d gone over to search. There’d been no sign of Leon, but the guy was known to take off now and then, so it wasn’t all that unusual.
Nathan had talked to the head social worker, and she’d felt Leon could probably manage independently with a few visits from Social Services. He’d also need some assistance with business matters and housekeeping chores.
Pathetic as a middle school girl with a crush, Sara had listened to the deep resonance of Nathan’s voice on that message three times before catching herself and abruptly erasing it. Foolish dreams and useless wishes.
Harold bumped against her leg and whined softly, his tail wagging. “So you think we ought to do this? You’re not just wanting a share of my lunch?”
She’d picked up half a dozen ham-and-cheese sandwiches, a bag of chips, and strawberry pop at a café downtown, just in case. The thought of encountering Leon was a bit unsettling, but maybe he was out here hiding and confused and hungry.
She’d considered, then quickly dismissed the thought of asking Nathan to come with her. His message had suggested that he’d found the trip out here to be a fool’s errand—and there’d been no warmth in his voice, either.
“Come, Harold.” Sara edged along the multi-strand tangle barbed-wire fencing until she reached a section with several downed wires. After helping the dog through, she crouched and squeezed between the sharp barbs.
“Leon—are you here?” she called as she and Harold scouted the piles of scrap metal, rusted car bodies, and farm equipment. She knocked on the metal siding and tested the padlocked doors of one storage building after the next.
Everything was bolted tight, just as Nathan had said. At the house, all the doors and windows were locked. “Guess I was wrong,” she murmured, surveying the property one last time. “Let’s head for home.”
They’d only gone a few feet when Harold abruptly whined and sat down.
Sara halted and spun around just as something flashed around the corner of the house. “Leon? Is that you?”
She waited several minutes, then circled the house from a distance, but found nothing—not a hint of the hulking figure of the man who’d given her the note a week ago.
“I’m putting some food on the fence post,” she called. “Then I’m leaving, so you come out and get it.”
