Page 71 of Peaches & Pistols

Ice shoots through my veins.

“I’m on my way.” I hang up the call.

Focused panic engages autopilot as I close the store, put on my coat, and rush out to my truck. Super-human restraint prevents me from speeding down Main Street and from parking the truck illegally on the school’s front lawn.

“Daddy!” Harper says, unperturbed by the change of her ride home. A year of being picked up by a different aunt or uncle every day has desensitized her to last minute shake-ups.

“Hey, Harp.” I hug her tiny body when she rushes me.

“Mr. Greyson?” Everly’s tiny voice comes from behind Harper. “Where’s my mama?”

“She must be tied up with something, but I’m sure she’s fine,” I try to reassure. But the razors in my stomach know otherwise.

“Let’s get you girls to Cecelia so she can stuff you full of cookies and milk.”

Everly’s tight smile does nothing to mask her worry, but she comes without question. Once the girls are buckled up, I take a beat to get control of the situation.

When I went up for lunch, I was disappointed to find Mia’s note. The scraps of communication she leaves for me usually light me up, but the empty apartment foreshadowed what the note would say.

Delilah invited me to lunch at the ranch. I’m sorry I’ll miss you. Your lunch is on the bottom self of the fridge.

xo

The hug and kiss at the bottom of her message assuaged my loneliness marginally. I’ll take any affection Mia’s willing to give me. Even two letters at the bottom of a sticky note.

Mia’s never once been late to get the kids, let alone not show up. I might be overreacting, but my gut tells me to call in reinforcements.

New Group Message: Reid, James, Connor, Olivia, Isabelle, Delilah, Cecelia, Walter

Me: Find Mia.

My phone clanks into the cup holder and I head toward Lucky Spurs Ranch.

The roads are icy, and my pulse upticks every minute we’re closer to the ranch with no sign of Mia’s car.

The girls tell me about their day at school and I nod and grunt at all the wrong times. They need normalcy in this situation but I’m too worried to do anything more than drive. After what feels like an eternity, we pass under the Lucky Spurs Ranch sign.

Mia’s car isn’t here.

“Alright, why don’t you girls run inside and get warm,” I say, helping them out of the truck and passing them their backpacks.

Everly looks back at me, fear written across her face, and I feel like a piece of shit for not reassuring her.

I follow them into the main house where Cecelia wraps both kids in a mama-bear hug, jovial as ever, but when her eyes meet mine, I know.

Mia’s not here.

I stomp through the house to the den where I find my closest friends.

“Where is she?” I bark at Delilah.

“Why don’t you try that again, Clark,” Connor bites, stepping in front of his wife.

They don’t deserve my fear-driven wrath, but I’m unraveling. It’s above freezing today, but the temperature’s dropping by the hour as the sun follows its path west. She could be cold, injured, missing, or…

No. I’m not going there. I can’t. She has to be okay.

Delilah ducks under Connor’s arm, hugging his waist. “She was here all morning. We ate lunch at my house. I had to leave for a meeting but told her she was welcome to stay. I haven’t seen or heard from her since around one o’clock.”