That boy ain't none of those things,
Dutch said staunchly.
I wouldn't have thought so.
Nathaniel had been all three at that age, and he
believed he would have recognized the signs. There had been times he ran, too. But he'd had nowhere to go.
The tickle at the back of his neck persisted. Again, he found his gaze wandering toward the cliffs.
I've got a feeling,
he said almost to himself.
What?
No, just a feeling.
The prickle was in his gut now.
I'm going to check it out.
It was as though he were being pulled to the cliffs. Nathaniel didn't fight it, though the rocky ground jarred the pain back into his bones and the steep climb stole his breath. With one hand pressed to his aching ribs, he continued, his gaze sweeping the rocks and the high wild grass.
It was, he knew, a place that would draw a child. It had drawn him as a boy. And as a man.
The sun was high and white, the sea sapphire blue, then frothy where it lashed and foamed on the rocks. Beautiful and deadly. He thought of a young boy stumbling along the path, missing a step, slipping. The nausea churned so violently he had to stop and choke it back.
Nothing had happened to Kevin, he assured himself. He wouldn't let anything happen to Kevin.
He turned, started to climb higher, calling the boy's name as he searched.
It was the bird that caught his eye. A pure white gull, graceful as a dancer, swooped over the grass and rock, circled back with a musical call that was almost human, eerily feminine. He stood, staring at it. For one sunstruck second, Nathaniel would have sworn the gull's eyes were green, green as emeralds.
It glided down, perched on the ledge below and looked up, as if waiting for him.
Nathaniel found himself clambering down, ignoring the jolts to his abused body. The thunder of the surf seemed to fill his head. He thought he smelled a woman, sweet, soft, soothing, but then it was only the sea.
The bird wheeled away, skyward, joined its mate another gull, blindingly white.
For a moment they circled, calling together in something like joy. Then they winged out to sea.
Wheezing a bit, Nathaniel gained the ledge, and saw the shallow crevice in the rock where the boy was huddled.
His first instinct was to scoop the child up, hold him. But he checked it. He wasn't altogether certain he wasn't the reason Kevin had run.
Instead, he sat down on the ledge and spoke quietly.
Nice view from here.
Kevin kept his face pressed to his knees.
I'm going back to Oklahoma.
It was an
attempt at defiance that merely sounded weary.
I can take a bus.
I guess so. You'd see a lot of the country that way. But I thought you liked it here.
His answer was a shrug.
It's okay.
Somebody give you a hard time, mate?
No.
Did you have a fight with Alex?
No, it's nothing like that. I'm just going back to Oklahoma. It was too late to take the bus last night, so I came up here to wait. I guess maybe I fell asleep.
He
hunched his shoulder, kept his face averted.
You can't make me go back.
Well, I'm bigger than you, so I could.
He said it gently, touched a hand to Kevin's hair. But the boy jerked away.
I'd rather not make you do anything until I understand what's on your mind.
He let some time pass, watching the sea, listening to the wind, until he sensed Kevin relaxing a little beside him.
Your mother's kind of worried about you. Everybody else is, too. Maybe you ought to go back and tell them goodbye before you leave.
She won't let me go.
She loves you a lot.
She should never have had me.