Chapter Fourteen, Part Two

He awoke to the sound of rain beating against the window panes and for a brief moment thought himself back in Kentucky, where the Midwestern storms rolled in and lingered for what could seem like hours. He reached for Diana, but of course she wasn't there. With a sigh of annoyance, he sat up. The room was dark and the storm was crashing outside his window, with flashes of lightning that lit up the world like day. He pulled on his pants and the shirt he had left carefully draped over the back of a chair, then went to find Sophie.

She wasn't in her room, but it was past dinner time, so perhaps she was already at the table. As he neared the kitchen, he heard Amalia and Miguel's voices, and although he couldn't catch their words over the sound of the rain, there was something in their tone and cadence he didn't like.

They stopped speaking when Robert entered the room, their eyes wide like guilty schoolchildren. Miguel's clothes and hair were dripping.

"Sophie didn't make it back before the storm," Amalia said in apologetic tones as if she were to blame.

"We've got three of our hands out looking for her," Miguel added. "I'm sure she's close by and in no real danger."

Robert frowned in concern. Sophie was probably familiar with most of the trails by now, and she was a sensible girl, but she wouldn't know which creeks flooded easily and which trails were prone to washouts. With the poor visibility, and now darkness falling, Bandera might stumble or they might get turned around on a now-unfamiliar path. "I should go after her."

The look in his friends' eyes brought him up short. Who did he think he was fooling? Acts of outdoor heroism had always been Diana's forte, not his. If he went looking for Sophie, he was likely to end up in need of rescue himself.

"My men know these trails well," Miguel said, covering for the awkward moment. "If they haven't found her by the time the storm passes, we can join them."

Robert waved off Amalia’s offer of a cup of tea and went to the window. Somewhere out there were the trees and mountain slope, obscured by sheeting rain. Every paternal instinct urged him out into the storm and to hell with the risk, but cool logic gave him pause. Or was it cowardice? That had always been the question he asked himself-- whether his avowed good sense was merely a cover for something far less noble or excusable.

Unbidden, his thoughts fled back a decade to a room rank and close with the smell of blood and a squalling bundle placed in his arms while a doctor and midwife hovered over Diana. Robert had been so weak with worry for his wife that he didn’t even give the child a thought. He set her down somewhere, he didn’t know where, and it was only hours later when Diana was out of danger that he remembered he had a daughter. Someone had found her, fed her and put her in a crib, and as he gazed at the tiny form sleeping on new white sheets he found himself overcome with shame that in her first hours of life he had failed her.

Well, not this time. He turned from the window. “Which trails are your men searching?”

Miguel frowned. “Jesse headed down the mountain toward town. Paul and Isaias each took one of the trails off the paddock; one went north, the other west. But there’s no telling where they are now. Those trails all wind around and connect to each other.”

Robert plotted the routes in his mind. He had been on all of them with Sophie on their morning rides and had some sense of her daily patterns. She wouldn’t have gone down the mountain toward town unless it was a market day, and she had just ridden the western trail the day before. That left the northern trail unless... “Were any of them planning to search the quarry trail?”

“East ridge? That’s too risky in a downpour and with lightning.”

He glanced again at the window. “There’s no lightning now.” Robert began heading toward his room to put on his boots and coat, quickly, before he could reason himself out of it.

Miguel chased after him. “It’s too dangerous.”

“And that makes it okay to let a child stay out there alone?”

“We don’t know she took that trail. Besides, if she did go that way and made it as far as the goatherd’s hut or the quarry, she’s fine as long as she stays there. It’s the half mile climb from the trail head that’s the danger.”

Robert found his boots and pulled them on. “Then I need to go and make sure she doesn’t try to come back.”

“No.” Miguel paused in the doorway, watching as Robert pulled on his coat and searched for his hat. “Or at least not you. I’ll go.”

“She’s my daughter.”

“And it’s my property. I know the trails a lot better than you do. I’m a better horseman, too. I’m sorry if I offend.”

Robert squared his hat and grimly looked Miguel in the eye. “You’re old and I’m not. Sorry if I offend.” Without waiting for an answer he headed out the door.