Where the Forest Meets the Stars(49)

“Here on Earth we don’t always get what we want.”
“But you and Gabe don’t know what you want.”
“I’m in no mood, Ursa.” She pulled her out of the barn by the hand and let her go. “You’ll walk to the car or stay here and risk Gabe calling the police.”
“Would you?” she asked Gabe.
He didn’t answer.
“I’m leaving,” Jo said.
Ursa followed her to the car and climbed into the back seat. “Bye, Gabe,” she said mournfully.
“Have a good day,” he said, closing her door.
Again, Ursa didn’t say much while Jo monitored and searched for nests, but this time, Jo didn’t encourage her to talk. She appreciated the silence. Without the distraction of Ursa’s chatter, her thoughts were more linear, the way they used to be before Ursa and Gabe. By the end of the day, she agreed with almost everything Gabe had said. There was no way anyone would let her be a foster parent when she’d kept Ursa with her for so long. And that meant Gabe was right about turning her in immediately to reduce the pain.
That night, while Ursa drew a picture with her colored pencils, Jo scanned the missing children websites she hadn’t checked for a few days. Though the prospect was painful, she hoped Ursa would be listed. She would have an unarguable reason to help the police ensnare her. But the remarkable child with a dimple in one cheek still wasn’t listed as missing.
Jo put Ursa’s drawing of a monarch butterfly on the refrigerator next to the indigo bunting. She reminded Ursa to brush her teeth after she put on her pajamas. They went to bed, Ursa on the couch and Jo in the bedroom. Ursa called her usual “Good night, Jo” after Jo put out the lamp.
Jo’s usual nocturnal restlessness was worsened by Gabe’s abandonment. Bearing the burden of responsibility for Ursa without him was agonizing. Wide awake at one in the morning, she went in the living room to check on Ursa.
She was gone.
Jo stared at the empty couch, contemplating what to do. If she drove to Gabe’s, she was letting Ursa control her. If she didn’t and she went to work in the morning, Gabe might call the police when he discovered her on his property.
If he did, Ursa would run. Jo knew that with certainty. Ursa would possibly try to hide at the Kinney property, which would bring down a shit storm on Jo and the Kinneys and maybe on the University of Illinois Biology Department, who paid the rent.
If Ursa didn’t hide at Kinney Cottage, she could end up anywhere. She was way too trusting, and there were all kinds of dangerous people who might take advantage of that.
Jo slipped her feet into flats and grabbed her keys and a flashlight. Once again, she found Little Bear closed in the screen room with an empty bowl. She left him there, frustrated and barking at her departure.
She shut off the Honda’s headlights and turned on parking lights as she arrived at the Nash entry road. She negotiated the ruts at slow speed to minimize noise, and she killed all headlights when she approached the cabin. The house was dark except for a porch light, and all the doors and windows were closed to keep in the air-conditioning. Gabe and his mother probably wouldn’t hear her car if she drove slowly.
Using the utility pole light to guide her, she crept down the road to the livestock buildings. She parked and pushed the car door closed with gentle pressure. She didn’t turn on the flashlight until she was inside the barn. She walked around the stacks of hay bales and shined her light in the direction of the kitten nest. The mother cat blinked and mewed at her, but Ursa wasn’t there. Jo searched the barn, illuminating every niche and corner. No Ursa.
Outside, she looked at the other buildings: a cow shed with two small pastures, a muddy pig field, a chicken coop with a large enclosed outdoor run, and a small wooden building that probably was Gabe’s toolshed. Jo doubted Ursa would go in the chicken coop. That left the cow and toolsheds. But she was afraid to sneak around any more than she had on a gun owner’s property. She had to get Gabe.
She walked the barn road to the cabin. She stopped in the shadows near the pole light and looked at the cabin, recalling the night she and Ursa had visited Gabe in his bedroom. They’d turned after the living room, and Gabe’s room had been the second small one on the left. Jo walked the left wall of the log cabin past the big living room window and the small window of the first bedroom. She stopped at the next one. Hoping Gabe wasn’t trigger-happy at night, she lightly rapped on the window with one knuckle. Nothing happened. She knocked louder, and a light came on. The curtains parted, and Gabe appeared in the rectangle of light.
She reacted to the sight of him. More powerfully than she would have expected.
She stepped closer to the window and waved. He unlocked the window and pushed it up. “Gone again?”
“Yes. And I already checked the kitten barn.”
“Figures she wouldn’t be there. She’s too smart for that. I’ll meet you out front.”
She walked to the porch and waited at the base of the stairs. He came out minutes later wearing a dark T-shirt, work jeans, and his leather slip-on shoes. He’d brought a flashlight.
“I’m really sorry,” she said.
“I hope you see this is getting out of hand,” he said.
“I know. Did I wake your mother?”
“No.” He walked past her and headed for the barns. Jo followed in silence. They checked the toolshed first, the cow barn next. He looked in the chicken coop, rousing disgruntled clucks. He stood in front of the coop, pondering.
“Maybe she finally ran away,” Jo said. “She barely said a word today.”