“She’s a smart girl. She’ll find her way home,” he added reassuringly.
After learning of the secret plan Evan made with his sister, Creed was barely holding himself together. Thoughts of leaving the family in search of her were blaring through his mind all night.
“I hope so.”
“I have faith in her. Don’t you?” Theo let his question hang in the air for a moment before turning to leave. “Sleep well, son.”
Creed shoved the dresser into place and stood leaning against its bulk, head hung low before sighing deeply and walking back to the rug in the center of the room. Gracefully, he moved to the floor and laid back, using his arm as a pillow. Inside, images of Meg flashed through his mind’s eye as tormenting as the sandstorm raging outside.
35 I’ve Missed You So
Meg closed her eyes to the scenery blurring past the Cadillac’s passenger window.
Though they had traveled for an hour in a comfortable silence, she wasn’t sleepy, but she was determined.
Gaining access to her emotional plane used to take her so much effort, no longer. She closed her eyes and willed her psychic spirit to fly. Instantly, she saw the psychic world—a black palate with colorful signatures speckled like stars on a clear night’s sky.
First, check your enemies, she told herself.
Knowing better than to dip into Arkdone’s signature, she thought of people who would most likely be near him. Meg considered her options and chose to start with Ermos. His mind was simple making him very easy to read.
She propelled herself across the emotional sky with the mental picture of the man who followed Arkdone like a shadow. He wasn’t difficult to find. He was thinking about his “master’s” injured hand. Then he thought about the untouched breakfast getting cold on the galley cart. He was listening to Arkdone’s every word, trying to anticipate what he might need. Meg listened in, frowning at a particular line the Senator spoke. Something about “devils.”
“There’s a pack of bottled water on the seat behind you, if you’re thirsty,” the gentle grandfather offered, interrupting Meg’s concentration.
Meg’s consciousness was yanked back to her body instantly, but without missing a beat she responded, “I am thirsty, now that you mention it. Can I get you one, too?” She moved to reach behind her seat.
“That’d be great, thanks,” he smiled happy that he could help the girl who seemed so lost.
A quick glance at Hugh’s arthritic hands, and Meg thoughtfully opened the bottle’s top for him before passing it to him.
She took a long draw on her bottle and slipped the cap back on. She had more work to do.
Okay, Williams. What are you up to? she thought, closing her eyes again.
His signature was located almost instantly. Meg hoped it was because she was so familiar with him, and that it had nothing to do with their shared DNA. The thought made her feel like vomiting. She never had wrapped her head around the reality that Kenneth Williams, the sick monster, was her biological father.
She swallowed hard at the bile threatening the back of her throat and focused, just to get the task over with. Williams was also on a plane. He was deciding whether to contact Senator Arkdone. He was hoping to form an alliance against them with the political snake. Meg could hold it no longer. She had gleaned enough and was starting to tire for her efforts, but she still had one more person to reach out to.
Glad to be away from Williams’ sticky black signature, Meg flung herself back across the sky searching for her last contact.
His vibrant, royal blue signature was crisp in her mind as she searched.
My Creed.
Meg felt herself quiver with anticipation as she felt herself pulled toward him, the one who never failed to give her strength, even in her darkest hours.
And then she saw him. All the other signatures floating around like gnats on the pathway disappeared in his glow. His blue signature surged with sheer joy when she got close enough to reach out and caress his energy with her own.
Meg giggled aloud at the pure love she felt pouring between them.
My Creed, her heart hummed.
A thousand miles away Creed whispered reverently, “Is it really you, Meggie?”
Still beaming joyfully, Meg projected a collage of images to him—memories they made together. Pictures of private moments only they would know.
She felt him shaking with equal parts of fear and elation. Without hesitation she wrapped her blanket around all his doubt and worry, as she’d done in the past. She felt him sigh with relief as she tossed the bundle into the sky with a prayer.
She felt blessed to have a gift that could ease his heart.
She sent him an image of the ranch in Texas, lingering at the barn where he’d proposed to her.
Home!