Free Taken by Virginia Rose Richter Page A

chill air. Bryce took Jessie’s mittened hand under the lap rug. For a few minutes, Jessie leaned her head back and enjoyed the ride. This must be what Heaven is like, she thought.
    Too soon the sleigh turned onto the unpaved road. The farm fields were covered with snow as far as one could see. It was like a magic land: The blue cloudless sky, the red barns and white farmhouses surrounded by groves of evergreens. Is there anything prettier in the world than the countryside? thought Jessie.
    Out of the corner of her eye she saw something move. It was an animal racing beside the sleigh. “Wait. Stop, Mr. Sanderson!” Jessie shouted.
    “Whoa, Dolly.” The driver pulled back on the reins and the sleigh came to a halt.
    “Look, Bryce. It’s Buster!”
    Bryce threw back the blanket, unbuckled his seat belt and jumped from the sleigh. “Here, Buster,” he called.
    The dog slowed down and looked at Bryce. He was so small the snow almost buried him. Warily he came toward Bryce. “Good dog. Want a ride?”
    Buster wagged his tail and edged closer. Gently, Bryce picked him up and got back into the sled. “This is perfect. I’ll carry Buster to the front door and ask the Colsons if they know where he lives.” He looked at Jessie. “So just look away. You don’t have to pretend you’re ill.”
    Jessie tucked Buster under the rug and rubbed his fur to warm him.
    “Ready?” asked Mr. Sanderson.
    “Let’s go,” said Bryce.
    “Over there,” Mr. Sanderson pointed. “That’s the house you’re looking for.”
    Jessie covered most of her face with her scarf and turned her face away from the house in case someone was looking out the window and might recognize her.
    When the sleigh came to a stop, Bryce jumped to the road with the dog under his arm. He plowed through the deep snow to the front gate of a small yellow farmhouse. On the porch, he pounded on the door. No one answered. Bryce pounded again and yelled, “Anyone home?”
    Bryce turned to the sled and shouted, “No one’s here, I guess. It’s probably not their dog.” He ran down the steps and back to the sled clutching Buster. In almost a whisper he said, “There’s a baby crying in there.”
    Jessie leaned forward. “Please take us to the police station, Mr. Sanderson.”

Chapter Nineteen
    The horse and sleigh flew over the snowy road. Jessie’s heart was pounding with excitement. Maybe we’ve found little Andel. Oh I hope so! She crossed her fingers.
    The Town Square was quiet except for church bells ringing from steeples all over town. Mr. Sanderson pulled to a stop in front of the police station.
    “Can you kids walk home?” asked the driver. “I should get ready for church. Wife will be waiting.”
    Bryce helped Jessie from the sled and put Buster under his arm. “Sure we can. Thank you for all your help, Mr. Sanderson. We’ll let you know what happens.”
    Mr. Sanderson waved and clicked his tongue for Dolly to start up. “Good luck to you two. You sure are good kids.”
    Jessie and Bryce pushed through the station doors and hurried to the counter. “Could we speak to whoever is handling the baby kidnapping?” asked Jessie.
    The sergeant behind the desk stared at her. “You must be Jessie Hanson,” he said. “I’m new, but I’ve heard of you.”
    “That’s me,” Jessie said.
    Have a seat. I’ll get Detective Olson.”
    A minute later a tall thin man came and stood in front of Jessie and Bryce. He had blond curly hair and wore a tweed sport coat with jeans.
    “Hi,” he said. “I’m Emil Olson. What can I do for you?” He looked at Buster. “This your dog?”
    “No.” Jessie handed the envelope with the newborn bracelet inside to the detective. “I’m Jessie Hanson and this is Bryce Peterson.”
    Detective Olson opened the envelope and shook out the blue bracelet. “Where did you get this?” he said. His voice seemed tight and stern.
    “This dog, Buster, had it in his mouth,” Jessie said. “We think we know where the