Page 30 of The Marshal's Bride
Marjorie coughed, but she didn’t speak.
“I forgive you, Marjorie. You will always be Hope’s grandmother, and I pray you will find the peace and healing you deserve. I’m also going to forgive myself. I loved Jacob, and I loved you. I still love you. I love my new husband and I have a new family. Hope deserves a father that loves her, and Sam loves her very much. I deserve to have peace and a future. So do you.”
Justine let out a shaky breath and rose from the chair. She needed to get home. As she headed towards the front of the building, Dillon was making a fresh pot of coffee on the stove.
“Everything all right?”
“It will be,” Justine said. “If Sam returns, let him know I’ve gone home.”
“I will.”
She may not be able to take part in finding Hope, but she could ensure that everything was ready for her daughter when she arrived home.
Sam couldn’t hear anything but the sound of blood rushing into his ears. He had run to the field and the geese took off, their wings flapping. When the chaos finally settled, Sam called Hope’s name.
It wasn’t as if she was going to answer him.
He leaned over, his hands on his knees and counted to ten, trying to quell the roaring in his ears. He spied Whitney coming around on the other side of the field with Ranger, followed by several Chapmans. They were on foot, slowly approaching the open field.
But they still hadn’t found Hope.
Then he heard it. It was so faint, he almost missed it.
Quack.
His hand jerked out, willing everyone to stop moving.
“Quack.”
“Hope, honey, come on,” he called. “Come see me.” His eyes skimmed the field in front of them. The geese had settled into the other side of the field. They weren’t moving. Something had caught their attention. “Hope, come to Papa.”
“Quack.”
Sam locked eyes with Whitney who was crouching on the side of the field. His mouth was moving, but no sound was coming out.
Sam lifted his arms, not understanding what his friend was saying.
“He wants you to quack,” Tommy muttered to his right.
“What?” Sam jerked to look at the trapper.
“The sheriff is telling you to quack. This is your little girl. She’s had a very long day, and the only person she’s going to come out for is you. So, stand up and quack.”
Suddenly Sam felt like an idiot. The men were all crouched down, watching the ground. If she could see any of the men, she was probably terrified. Sam moved further into the field.
“Quack!” The sound echoed in the valley, men stopped moving, and the geese started to waddle further way. “Hope, it's Papa. Quack. Quack.” He kept walking forward, slowly, and steady. “Quack.”
One whistle rang out to the right, and he saw Ranger’s arm stretch forward. He could see her.
“Hope, come on, sweetheart. Mama is waiting for you at home. She’s scared right now.” Sam took two more steps.
“Quack?” Her tone was clear, and he was getting closer.
“Sweetheart, come see Papa. Quack. Quack.”
“Quack! Papa! Quack, Quack, Quack.”
He still couldn’t see her. Suddenly the ground gave way under his boot and Sam scrambled back from the edge of a ravine that was hidden by overgrown grass.
