When Snow Falls (22 page)

“How should I know? I was half-asleep! I didn’t give her a drug test.”

Dylan pictured what he’d seen inside Anita’s room before they came to take the body. He guessed Presley had been on something. She’d probably left immediately after Anita died—confused, upset and maybe coming off her high enough to crave more. So she’d stopped by their house. “How much did you give her?”

“She was so freaked out and upset I just wanted her to leave me alone. I gave her a few points—all I had.” He sounded close to tears when he added, “Dyl, I need help.”

This admission frightened Dylan as much as all the rest of it. The demons Aaron was fighting weren’t ones Dylan could slay for him, so he wasn’t sure he
could
help. That was why he’d resorted to threatening Carl. At least it was
something.
“Getting clean starts with rehab. Only you can commit to that. Only you can change your life.”

“I know.” He blew out a sigh. “You’ve been trying to tell me for a long time. Maybe if I’d listened…Presley would still be here.”

Dylan said a silent prayer that this would be a turning point, that he wouldn’t lose yet another member of his family. He also prayed that it wasn’t too late to save Presley. “I’ll do whatever I can to get you what you need.”

A wry smile appeared on his brother’s lips. “That much I can count on.”

Aaron started to leave but Dylan stopped him. “What’s love, if not that?”

* * *

Joe hadn’t been able to reach Cheyenne all evening, but he’d enjoyed seeing his girls. They’d admired the tree, just as he’d expected, ordered pizza, watched a movie and sat up talking about Christmas, school, their friends. He was determined to show them a good time while they were in Whiskey Creek. He didn’t get to have them all that often, and missed being a full-time father. But concern for the woman he wanted to date had been hovering in the back of his mind all day. How was she taking her mother’s death? And who was around to support her, since most of her friends were on that cruise?

He knew Presley was less of an asset than she should be. And Gail hadn’t been able to reach her, either.

Once Josephine and Summer were in bed, and his father was home to watch them, he decided to go over to Cheyenne’s to see if he could do anything to help.

The stores were closed after ten, so he stopped by the Gas-N-Go to pick up a long-stemmed white rose and a card.

Sandra Morton was working. Slow as it was this time of night, she could’ve been sitting on the stool behind the register, reading a book. Instead, she was busy cleaning. She was one of their best employees. Her son, Robbie, worked for them, too. He was young, only eighteen, but he already had a baby to support.

“Hey!” she said when he walked in.

He smiled. “Wishing you could close early and head home to that grandbaby of yours?”

“Naw. I’m fine with staying till twelve. Little Dodge has a cold. Long as I’m here his mother has to walk the floor with him instead of me.”

Robbie and his wife, who was a year younger than he was, lived with Sandra. It was the only way they could make ends meet while he went to college in Sacramento, since his wife was still in high school.

“She doesn’t get up with him?”

Sandra rolled her eyes. “Not if she can help it.”

“Even while she’s on break for the holidays?”

“
Any
time.”

He didn’t envy Sandra the difficult position she was in. No parent wanted his or her son getting a girl pregnant before he could even legally drink. “Good thing you love that baby so much.”

She chuckled. “No kidding. The sun rises and sets on that kid.”

He selected a card and a pink rose since they were out of white and removed his wallet. He owned the store with his father, but he paid for everything he bought there, just like anyone else.

“Are you seeing someone?” she asked, eyeing the flower.

“Cheyenne Christensen’s mother died today,” he explained.

Her smile vanished. “I heard about that. I’m so sorry. Actually, she dropped in earlier and left a note for you. I didn’t expect to see you so I tacked it above your work desk. I would’ve forgotten if you hadn’t mentioned her. I swear my mind isn’t the same since Robbie had Dodge. That baby’s all I think about.”

Sandra kept talking but her words dimmed to background noise. Why hadn’t Cheyenne just called him back?

“I’ll grab it on my way out.” He wasn’t sure if he’d interrupted Sandra, but he didn’t particularly care. She’d talk all day if he let her. After taking his change, he headed into the garage, where his desk languished beneath a pile of work orders and auto parts.

It took a moment for the new energy-efficient lights to come on. When they did, he found a piece of copy paper with his name on it, folded up tightly and stapled shut, tacked to the bulletin board where he’d put up pictures of his kids, the shop calendar, invoices and various “to do” items he didn’t want to forget.

After retrieving it, he sank onto his stool to read what she’d written.

Thanks for all your messages today, Joe. It means a lot that you’re concerned about me. I’ve almost called you back several times, but I’m not sure I’d have the courage to come out with what I have to tell you, so I hope you’ll forgive me for doing it this way.

First of all, my life is completely upside down right now. I should get my head on straight before I start seeing anyone. More than anything I don’t want to mislead you or disappoint you. I’ve always admired you, will never forget how wonderful you were to me when I first came to town.

Joe couldn’t remember being “wonderful.” He remembered being angry at how her mother treated her and how his father had cautioned him to stay out of it. But that was all.

So I have to be up front with you. Remember when I said I was a virgin? I was—at the time. I know that wasn’t too long ago (uncomfortable laugh goes here) but since then I’ve slept with Dylan (yes, Dylan Amos). Dylan and I weren’t seeing each other or anything; it just happened out of the blue. I’m not quite sure how after thirty-one years! I know this probably isn’t what you want to hear, but you’ve already been through a lot, so before you start to care about me or build any expectations based on what I told you before, I thought it only fair to be as honest as possible.

No matter what happens I will always think of you as a hero
.

Cheyenne

“Wow…” he breathed, feeling as if he’d just been sucker punched. He’d certainly never seen
this
coming.

“Wow what?” Sandra asked. “Everything okay?”

Joe had been so engrossed he hadn’t realized his employee had poked her head into the garage. Trying to rally from the shock, he got up. “Fine. It’s just…her car needs some work.”

“She had to ask me for a stapler to be able to tell you that?”

He didn’t answer, but his silence didn’t deter Sandra from speaking again. Nothing deterred Sandra. But he knew she meant well.

“I wonder if she’s found her sister.”

“Her sister?” he asked, glancing up.

“That’s the reason she came here in the first place. She was looking for Presley, said she hadn’t seen her all day. Knowing Presley, I wasn’t overly concerned. You can’t keep track of someone who’s hell-bent on destroying herself. But I said I’d keep an eye out. Then she came back a few minutes later with that.”

Joe needed to think about what Cheyenne had revealed, figure out how it affected what he felt for her. But now was not the time. Sandra was being too nosy. “Maybe I’ll go by and see if Presley’s back.”

“That would be nice. Presley’s troubled, but Cheyenne’s sure a great person.”

24

C
heyenne’s car was gone but Dylan knocked, anyway. She didn’t answer, confirming his first guess. She hadn’t found Presley. She was still out searching for her sister.

He wondered if she was doing it alone.

Maybe she had Joe, her knight in shining armor, to help her.

Despite his own sarcasm, Dylan hoped she did. He hated to think of her trying to cope on her own—frantic, heartbroken, vulnerable.

He lifted his hand to bang on the door again, just in case he was wrong and she was inside, asleep. It was eleven, certainly late enough for that. She could’ve left her car elsewhere and had someone drop her off.

The sound of an engine made him turn. The vehicle pulling into Cheyenne’s drive wasn’t the Oldsmobile or the Mustang, however. He couldn’t determine the make or model, but the headlights blinding him were too high for either.

This was a truck—and once he could see it clearly, he realized who it belonged to.

Suddenly, Dylan wanted to be anywhere else, but he forced himself to stand on the stoop and wait until Joe turned off his engine and got out. If he was bringing Cheyenne home, at least Dylan would be able to reassure himself that she was okay.

But she didn’t get out of the truck. It was only Joe who walked toward him. “She’s not home?” he said, his voice clipped, not open and friendly like it had been at the Victorian Christmas celebration.

Dylan figured it was finding him on Cheyenne’s doorstep so late that accounted for the change. He shook his head. “She’s not with you?”

“No.”

They stared at each other for several seconds, opponents for the first time, a subtle but unmistakable shift. Then Joe shoved his hands in his pockets and heaved a sigh. “She told me about you.”

Instantly wary, Dylan narrowed his eyes. “Told you what about me?”

“That you two—” he shrugged, obviously looking for the right words “—were together,” he finished with a wince.

Dylan frowned. “Telling you was a hell of a risk to take. But…somehow it doesn’t surprise me.”

Joe stepped closer. He seemed intent on seeing Dylan’s face. “Why not?”

“She’s been in love with you since she was fourteen, thinks you walk on water. Didn’t she tell you that, too?” The jealousy he was feeling leaked into his voice, but Dylan couldn’t help it. His chest was so tight he could scarcely breathe, let alone talk.

Joe stopped a foot or so away and toed the dirt between the dead clumps of grass. “She didn’t say that, exactly.”

“She’s wanted you for a long time. So…” He met Joe’s somber gaze. “I hope you won’t let what happened between us get in the way.”

A touch of confusion showed on Joe’s face. “Something like that’s hard to forget, Dylan.”

Especially when he’d already dealt with a cheating wife. His background would make it even harder. “I’m just telling you it would be a mistake. What we did didn’t mean anything to her. It was…an act of desperation, I think. I hit on her in a vulnerable moment.”

“So…more your fault than hers.”

“Definitely.” He knew that should be an easy sell. People in Whiskey Creek liked to blame him for whatever went wrong. In high school, he’d deserved a lot of that blame. He’d broken into the school and vandalized it, he’d stolen a car and gone on a joyride, he’d started a bonfire in an abandoned building so they could roast hot dogs and gotten in more trouble for that than the car incident. So maybe blaming him had become a habit. Regardless of the reason, he’d been picked up three different times since then for shit he
didn’t
do.

“Nice of you to take responsibility.”

Dylan managed a cynical smile. “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t want to stand in the way of true love.”

Joe jerked his head toward the house. “So what are you doing here now? Hoping to get lucky again?”

Cigarettes. Dylan needed a smoke, but he patted empty pockets. He’d bought a pack, since his brothers had taken his advice and thrown out what they already had. However, he’d subsequently tossed that new pack, too. “I was just trying to check on her.”

“Sure you were.”

“I don’t owe you anything, Joe. If she comes back to me, I’m going to take all I can get.”

Joe’s voice dropped low. “Stay away from her.”

“It would be a mistake to try to enforce that,” Dylan said, and walked off before the temptation to leave Joe writhing on his back could get the best of him.

* * *

Cheyenne had never been so cold. But she refused to go home to an empty house. She would find her sister first. She hadn’t come this far to let her life fall apart now that Anita could no longer affect her.

“Presley!”

There was a movement across the river. She angled her flashlight in that direction, but succeeded only in startling several deer. They bounded away, snapping twigs and crashing through branches.

It took a moment to absorb this latest disappointment. She’d gone down as far as Carl Inera’s and was on her way back following the river, but darkness, thick vegetation and rocks, both sharp and slippery, made the journey difficult. She’d already passed the swirling pool Presley favored. But she had to keep searching. She could easily imagine her sister getting high and wandering around out here until she either fell into the river or froze to death.

That didn’t explain where her car was. But Cheyenne had to at least
look
in their own backyard, had to be sure.

“Presley!” She was getting closer and closer to Dylan’s house, but she didn’t care if he or his brothers heard her. She didn’t care about anything except finding her only family. “Answer me!”

She smelled cigarette smoke before she realized she was no longer alone. Stopping not far from Dylan’s barn, she closed her eyes and inhaled. That scent reminded her of Presley, but she knew it wasn’t Presley smoking out here tonight. She used her flashlight to scan the woods ahead of her until she saw Dylan leaning up against a tree at the edge of his property.

“No luck?” he said, shying away from the light.

She wondered how long he’d been there, listening to her call out. He wasn’t even wearing a coat. “No.”

When he pushed off the tree and came toward her, she noticed that he was carrying a bottle of hard liquor in one hand and a cigarette in the other. “Joe came over to your place tonight. Thought you’d like to know. If you call him, you might be able to catch him before he goes to bed, get him to come back.”

Because it was rude to do anything else, she pointed her flashlight at the ground, but that made it impossible to ascertain his expression. He looked like nothing except a tall, dark shadow. “How do you know he came over?”

The whites of his teeth flashed in a smile, but she suspected it wasn’t a happy one. “We bumped into each other.”

Her heart was pounding. She wanted to believe it was due to the physical exertion but knew there was more to it. Seeing Dylan did this to her. “I told him about us.”

He drank from the bottle, then wiped his mouth. “So he said.”

Dylan’s words took Cheyenne by surprise.
“He mentioned it to you?”

“Point-blank. You went for full disclosure, huh?”

When she folded her arms, hugging herself against the cold, he offered her a drink.

She caught a whiff of whiskey as she pushed it away. “I didn’t want to feel as if I’d been sneaking around.”

“Gutsy move. Admirable, considering how much you care about him.”

Was he being sarcastic? She couldn’t tell, but she was now convinced he was drunk. “You need to go inside, Dylan. It’s too cold out here.”

“You’re telling
me
that?”

“You don’t have a coat on.”

“I don’t need a coat.” He took a long drag. “I don’t need anything.”

“Least of all me?”

He didn’t respond.

“Come on.” She held his arm so she could tug him toward his house, but he jerked out of her grasp.

“Aaron saw her, you know.”

She let go of him. “He what?”

“He saw Presley last night.”

“That’s not what he told us.”

He kept smoking but didn’t say anything.

“Dylan?”

“Apparently, he wasn’t entirely honest.” He shrugged.

Mouth dry, she steadied herself by placing a hand on the closest tree. “What happened?”

“He was an asshole to her. Just like you’re afraid I’ll be to you. Should make you glad you never gave me the chance, huh?”

She couldn’t let their personal problems enter into this. She had to find Presley. “Does he know where she is?”

“No. She came by when he was asleep. He didn’t want to see her, so he turned her away and then she asked for drugs.”

“And…”

“He gave them to her. See? You can’t count on an Amos to do the right thing.”

But Aaron was as screwed up as Presley. Cheyenne couldn’t judge Dylan by Aaron’s actions, any more than Dylan could judge her by Presley’s.

Again, she thought of the possibility of a baby and felt heartbroken for her sister. She might’ve felt heartbroken for herself but refused to contemplate whether or not she might be pregnant, too. “He doesn’t care about her?”

“The ironic thing is—” he dropped his cigarette and stubbed it out “—I think he does.”

He didn’t offer an excuse as to why Aaron might’ve reacted as he had, but Cheyenne could guess. He’d lost his own mother; why would he want to be involved in losing hers?

“They both need to go into rehab.”

“Aaron says he’s ready for it. I’m taking him down after Christmas.”

“Good. It might be his last chance to get his life turned around.” She hoped Presley would have the same chance, hoped it wasn’t already too late.

“I’m sorry for the way he treated her,” he said softly.

“He’s the one who should be sorry. Come on, let’s get you inside.”

“I’m fine!”

“Please?” she said. “I don’t want to worry about you, too. I can’t…” When her voice broke, he tossed away the bottle and stepped up to frame her face with his hands.

She stared at him, waiting for him to kiss her, hoping he would. The way he made her feel when she was in his arms could overcome the pain. But he didn’t.

“Go out with me,” he whispered. “Just to dinner. I don’t pretend to be perfect, or even as good as Joe, but I can love you twice as much. If you don’t have a good time, I’ll leave you alone.”

She wanted his arms around her so badly. Rising up on her toes, she tried to press her lips to his, but he stopped her.

“Just a date. That’s all I want.”

No, he wanted her to legitimize their relationship. To make it public. She understood what that dinner signified. It would put her at odds with almost everyone she knew. It would also put a decisive end to anything she had going with Joe, if the note she’d left him hadn’t already done that.

“I’m obsessed with you,” she admitted.

“Then say yes.”

She couldn’t see his expression, but she could hear the entreaty in his voice, feel the hopeful tension in his body—and couldn’t refuse. “Will you go inside if I do?”

“I want to help you find your sister. That’s why I came out here.”

“It’s no use.” She swept her flashlight through the trees. “I’ve looked everywhere.”

He took her hand, toyed with her cold fingers, then pulled her to him and rested his chin on her head. “She’s going to be okay.”

There were no guarantees, but Cheyenne preferred to believe him. She certainly didn’t want to face any of the other possibilities. “When do you want to go out?” she asked.

“There’s no rush. You can call me when you’re ready. I just…I want you to give me a chance.”

“I’m not a safe bet, Dylan,” she said into his T-shirt. “You know that.”

He kissed her temple. “I think that’s what you’re holding against me.”

* * *

Presley woke in the sleeper of a semi. The man who’d picked her up was driving. She could hear and feel the motion of the truck. But she was naked beneath a blanket so she knew they probably hadn’t been on the road for long.

Squinting in the darkness, she shoved herself into a sitting position so she could see who she was with. When she saw it was a man somewhere in his late fifties and that he was obese and terribly unattractive even in the dim light of the instrument panel, she nearly groaned out loud.

“What time is it?” she asked, her voice raspy.

“Nearly two.”

She pressed her fingers to her temples in an effort to ease the pounding. “Where are we?”

He used the rearview mirror to look back at her. “Near Phoenix. You hungry? I can stop at a hole-in-the-wall café I know. They cater to truckers so they’re open twenty-four hours.”

She wasn’t hungry. She was never hungry. She just wanted more meth, Oxycontin, pot,
anything
that would dull the awareness dawning on her. “You don’t happen to know a dealer in Phoenix, do you?”

“No. I’ve never done drugs. My wife would divorce me if I did.” He winked at her. “But I’ve got more Jack Daniel’s, if that’ll help.”

She remembered drinking with him hours ago. That was probably the reason she had such a splitting headache. “I’ve had enough of that.”

“Want me to pull over at the next stop? I could give you another massage.”

The way he smiled at her certainly didn’t help the roiling in her stomach. “There’s no chance you’re a serial killer, is there?”

His eyes widened as if she couldn’t possibly have meant that hopeful inflection. “Oh, no! Don’t worry. You’re the one who wanted to…you know. I would
never
hurt you.”

The truck rumbled beneath her as she sank back onto the pillow and stared up at the blackness. “That’s what I thought.”

“You seem disappointed,” he said with an uncomfortable laugh.

“I am. Would it be so hard to put me out of my misery? Maybe you could just push me out while we’re driving.”

“That would
kill
you.” He sounded shocked. “I told you I’m not going to hurt you. You’re such a beautiful girl. Why would you have a death wish?”

She didn’t answer.

“Maybe you’re a little crazy, but you’re a hellcat in bed. It’s been a long time since I’ve had sex that good. I owe you.”

She thought of Aaron and the pain in her head and chest became so acute she nearly blacked out. He was the only one she wanted, but he didn’t want her. And now she was carrying his child. She wasn’t sure what to do about the situation. She knew she shouldn’t be drinking or using. The over-the-counter test she’d taken just after Cheyenne left for A Victorian Christmas with Joe confirmed it. But if she was going to end the pregnancy anyway… “I want to get out.”