Page 1 of Long Past Dawn
Prologue
Twenty years ago
When I met Blaze McAwley at the start of third grade, I knew we would be best friends. He was funny and loved to get into trouble with mean Mrs. Hasselback as much as I did. When I found out he lived on a ranch, I was so excited. I’d always wanted to ride a horse and rope a steer, but living in the middle of town made that impossible, even in the heart of Texas. Things were so much different now, though. I was alone, and if it weren’t for Blaze, I’d probably be on the street.
I slipped into his daddy’s barn through the side door the way he’d shown me when we hatched our plan. I checked around the barn to make sure all the hands had left for the night before letting my guard down even the slightest little bit. I would have from ten p.m. until five a.m. to sleep before I had to leave the barn again and hide out somewhere else on the ranch. Thankfully, they had thousands of acres, so it wasn’t hard to keep myself hidden during the day. If school were in session, I’d stay there, but since it’s the middle of July, that’s impossible. At least when Blaze can get away from his daddy for a few hours, he always hunts me down to go for a swim.
I checked the old digital watch he’d given me when I first got here. It had an alarm on it, so I would know when to get up and leave the barn. It also told me he’d be by soon to drop off some food to eat for the night. It had been our routine for the last two weeks, and it worked okay. During the day, I could snack on apples and carrots I’d steal from the barn bins. I didn’t think the horses would mind much if I ate a couple of their treats.
Blaze had made me a bed of hay in the loft and kept blankets and a pillow hidden for me to get out every night. We didn’t want any ranch hands getting suspicious and reporting to Blaze’s daddy that someone was in the barn.
The shower at the end of the stalls called to me. It was so hot today, so I was dusty and dirty. Since I only had two sets of clothes, the one I was wearing when I ran away, and the one Blaze was letting me borrow, I would have to wash them tonight and dry them tomorrow in the sunshine.
I checked the watch again, nervously chewing on my lip. It was half-past ten, and Blaze was usually here by now. Maybe he fell asleep and forgot about me. If he had, I’d grab another apple and go to bed, hoping tomorrow he’d show up with breakfast. My stomach grumbled at the thought of food, and I rubbed it absently. It had been so long since I’d eaten three meals a day that I couldn’t remember the last time. It was probably back when school was open. That was two months ago now. Before that, it was when my momma was alive. I leaned against a bale of hay and let out a heavy breath. I didn’t like thinking about Momma. I missed her so much. My foster family used to tell me I had to stop talking about her since she’d been dead for a year. I didn’t think that was right. The counselor at school told me I could talk about her as much as I wanted. I didn’t know who to believe anymore, so I just believed in Blaze. He’d never done me wrong and never would.
I didn’t talk about Momma anymore, though. Instead, I thought about her in my mind and wrote down all the stories I could remember about her. My foster family told me I’d forget what she looked like one day, and I didn’t want that to happen. I had pictures of her saved in a secret place where no one would find them, and I had my notebook full of stories. That was all I had now besides Blaze. Living out here like this was hard. I was so scared of being found out, but I was more scared of going back to foster care.
There were footfalls on the gravel outside, and my heart started pumping hard in my chest. I pushed off the bale of hay and ducked behind it until I knew for sure it was Blaze. If a ranch hand forgot something or needed to check on an animal, I didn’t want him to find me.
Blaze called out softly. “The horses are quiet tonight.”
That was our secret phrase, so I knew it was safe to come out.
I jumped up, anxious to see what he brought me for supper. I was starving. “I didn’t think you were coming tonight,” I said, stepping around the bale of hay.
What I saw froze my feet and my words in place. Blaze stood there with his daddy holding one arm and his momma holding the other. He didn’t have any food, and his eyes told me he was scared. My gaze darted around, looking for a way out. The closest door was the one I came in, and I ran for it, my legs pumping as hard as I could make them on what little food I’d eaten today. My heart was pounding, and I was almost there when a hand grabbed the back of my shirt.
“Stop now, son.”
It was Blaze’s daddy, Ash. He was gruff and bossy with his ranch hands, but Blaze always said he was a good man.
I swallowed hard and hoped he’d see reason. “I—I was just leaving, sir,” I said, my voice shaking. “I stop—stopped on by to sa-see Blaze. You know how long it stays lig—light in the summertime,” I yammered, praying he’d let me go. I didn’t know where I’d go, but as long as it wasn’t back to that awful foster family, I didn’t care.
It was Blaze’s momma who spoke once I quieted. “Why don’t you come inside the house, Beau? I’ve got leftover burgers from dinner and some apple pie.”
“Thanks, Mrs. McAwley, but I-I-I will ba-be on my way,” I said. My stomach chose that moment to rumble, and I willed it to be quiet.
“Son,” Mr. McAwley said, “Blaze told us what’s been going on out here. We’d like you to come inside now.”
I hung my head and shuffled my feet toward the door where Blaze still stood with his momma. He slipped his hand in mine because he knew I was scared even though we were eleven now.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “Momma caught me trying to get the food tonight. I didn’t snitch on purpose.”
I nodded but didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I was afraid I’d cry. I was going to have to leave my best friend now and go back to that awful place. Mrs. McAwley motioned for me to sit at the table once we were inside the large, open kitchen I’d come to love since I met Blaze. It was always bright, warm, and smelled of apple pie and fresh bread.
I hesitated, but finally, Blaze sat, so I grabbed the chair next to him. “I don’t mean to be na—n—no trouble. I can disappear as f—fa—fas as I appeared,” I promised, my stutter heavy from fatigue and fear.
“You’re no trouble, Beau,” Mrs. McAwley assured me. “Relax and eat.” She set a plate of food in front of me that was too hard to pass up.
I ate half the burger before I looked up to see that Blaze’s parents had sat opposite us. I wiped my lips with my hand. “You always make the best food,” I said, offering a rare smile. “I—I—go once I’m done,” I promised, attacking the pile of fries and washing it down with the giant glass of milk Mrs. McAwley had set in front of me. When I finished, she pushed a piece of apple pie in front of me and handed me a fork.
I ate that much slower, savoring the sweet cinnamon apples and the buttery pie crust. It might be the last piece of pie I ever got from Blaze’s momma, and I wanted to hold onto the memory as hard as I held onto the memory of my momma. A tear dripped onto the plate, now almost empty, which meant it was time to leave them and find my own way. Another tear fell, and I swiped it away with my shoulder while I finished the last bite of pie and swallowed the last of the cold milk.
I pushed the plate away and stood. “Thank you. I’ll sa—see you around,” I said, but Mr. McAwley stood and motioned for me to sit my butt down in the chair.
I lowered myself into the seat again and hung my head, the tears falling faster now that they weren’t going to let me leave. I was in trouble. Big trouble. I ran away from the foster home, and now they’d probably put me in a home for boys and make me dig holes. I heard they even carried guns and used big dogs.
“You’re not going anywhere, Beau,” Mr. McAwley said, his voice booming in the quiet of the room.
