When Snow Falls (17 page)

“Have you asked your mother about it?”

“Of course.”

“And?”

“She says she’s never met anyone like the person I describe. She accuses me of making it all up. She says I think I’m too good for her and Presley, so I’ve created this fantasy to explain why.”

“Is there any proof that Anita might not be your mother?”

“None. Except she can’t even tell me where I was born.”

“What does it say on your birth certificate?”

“What birth certificate?”

“You don’t have one?”

“None of us do. My mother didn’t bother to hang on to stuff like that. And what we did have got thrown out.”

“How did you and Presley get into school?”

“One of the men my mother was with for a brief period years ago knew how to make fake IDs. She had him make us each a birth certificate. We used it to get into school wherever we went—when we attended, which wasn’t often—but he wasn’t very good. It’s a miracle they accepted it.”

“They probably didn’t look at it too closely.”

“No one did. She’d hand them a bad photocopy, and they’d chalk up the imperfections to that, I guess. Then she’d tell them that getting immunizations was against our religion, and we were in.”

“Where were you born?”

“My mother says in Wyoming. That’s why she named me Cheyenne. But I wasn’t born there. I’ve checked.”

“So…you think she might’ve stolen you from someone else?”

It sounded crazy to hear her suspicions spoken aloud. Already, she regretted sharing what she had. The alcohol had loosened her tongue. But now that she’d revealed her doubts, she figured she might as well admit the truth. “I’ve always wondered.”

“That would explain why you look nothing like your sister.”

“My mother,
if
she’s my mother, says we come from different fathers.”

“Obviously. Presley’s father was Hispanic, wasn’t he? But you’re saying you might not be sisters at all?”

Guilt for suggesting such a thing suddenly overwhelmed Cheyenne and she rubbed her face. “Or my mother’s right. Maybe it’s all some weird attempt on my part to pretend I belong somewhere else, somewhere better. Forget I said anything.”

She added a humorless chuckle, but he didn’t seem willing to drop the subject quite so easily.

“What do you know about your father?”

“Nothing.”

“Not even his name?”

“My mom claims she met him at a bar. They went to a motel together. He was gone less than an hour later. I’m sure she wasn’t sober.” She drew the blanket higher. “Touching encounter, right? You see why I might’ve been tempted to create a prettier picture.”

“Children are stolen every day,” he said. “Some are found, some are not. Those who aren’t, if they’re alive, have to go somewhere, grow up somehow. Considering your mother, and what you know her to be capable of, it’s at least as likely that you
didn’t
dream it up.”

It felt great to have some support, someone else suggesting she might not be crazy for suspecting the worst, especially since Presley had discounted those memories as much as Anita had.

“Have you gone to the police?” he asked.

“Once.”

“And?”

“If I
was
kidnapped, my case wasn’t as widely publicized as Jaycee Dugard’s, that’s for sure. They couldn’t match me to any missing persons.”

“There could be plenty of reasons for that.”

“I know. We traveled a lot, were always on the go. That could’ve been one of the reasons. When I went in, it’d been ten years, which is a long time, so that didn’t help, either.”

“Not all police departments communicate as well as they should. Or they didn’t back then. And there are thousands of missing children.”

“Exactly. It feels futile.”

“Maybe it’s not.”

“In any case, what
I’d
like most in life is to either forget the blonde woman—or answer the question of who she is.”

“I doubt you’ll be able to forget her.”

“You’re saying my only choice is to answer the question.”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

“Even though I don’t have any way to figure out what my original name was, or if my birthday is really my birthday?”

“You could go back to the police. Keep trying.”

“I wouldn’t want to do that here, wouldn’t want the whole town to know that I think I might’ve been abducted. They’ve heard enough about our family as it is. I’m an adult now. Maybe I should just…let it go.” Because she had no idea what she might find and whether or not the truth would be worse than not knowing. What if the perfect childhood she thought she remembered wasn’t as perfect as she thought? What if her real family had given her away, to Anita, someone who had no business raising a child?

She’d always wondered if that might be why the police hadn’t been able to match her with a missing person. It could be that her original family never filed a report.

“You could go to Sacramento. They have a bigger department and might be in a position to do more for you.”

Sacramento was the closest metropolitan city. It made sense to go there. “Maybe I will. Someday. Anyway, enough about me. I think you owe it to me to answer one more question.”

“You already stumped me with question number two.”

“But I’m the one doing all the revealing. I haven’t told anyone else what I just told you, so…I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t say anything. The possibility really upsets Presley, for obvious reasons.”

“What happens between us stays between us. Regardless of what it is.”

He sounded so firm in that commitment she felt a little better about having gotten involved with him. “Thanks. So…for your last question of the evening, what are the tattoos on your chest? I know you have some but it’s always been too dark for me to make out what they are.”

“I’m going to save the answer to that one.”

“For…”

He lowered his voice. “Someday when you’d like to come over and see for yourself.”

Was right now too soon? Suddenly, Cheyenne wanted to be with him. She craved the pleasure he could give her, could already feel her body growing warm and ready in response. But tonight she felt more than a physical reaction. She longed for the companionship and support he offered, too. And that frightened her. It said making love with him would be different this time. It would be deeper, richer—and involve some level of commitment to establishing a relationship.

“You scare me,” she admitted.

“In what way?”

“In every way.”

“And Joe doesn’t?”

Joe didn’t have the same reputation. Except for the period when he was married and gone, she’d watched him closely for seventeen years. He seemed both familiar and predictable. And his connection with Gail added a layer of security Cheyenne didn’t get with Dylan. Gail adored her brother and would certainly know if he wasn’t emotionally reliable or capable of maintaining a relationship. “Joe has never been picked up by the police.”

“Neither have I—not for a few years.”

“That makes you safe?”

“That means I’ve had my problems but I’ve grown up.”

“I see. But I’d have to take that on faith.”

“You’re not a safe bet, either, sweet pea. I’d be taking my own risks.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re in love with someone else. Am I going to have to worry about you wanting Joe every time we’re together? Is he the one you think about when we make love?”

“No!” She hadn’t thought of Joe in that way since Dylan had hijacked her life. Which was odd, given how often she’d fantasized about Gail’s brother before. “Even now, when I close my eyes and imagine a man touching me, I see only you.”

“I’m willing to work with that,” he said. “I can prove myself.”

He seemed pleased to have the chance, and that made her smile. There was more she could’ve said—like how hard it had been to take her eyes off him tonight, how every incidental touch had created an amplified response, how she burned for his hands on her body this very minute. But she knew her defenses were already crumbling too fast.

“Does that mean you’ll finally go out to dinner with me?” he asked.

He was nothing if not persistent. She laughed. “Fine. When?”

“Tomorrow night.”

The night she was supposed to go out with Joe. But he hadn’t called to ask her. “You want what you didn’t win.”

“Win?”

“At darts, remember?”

“I want a lot more than that,” he growled.

Her breath caught at the admission. He did something to her, something that made her heart pound and her nerves tingle. She worried that she wouldn’t be able to resist him even if she somehow realized, knew without a doubt, that she was making a mistake. “I’ve never met anyone like you. You’re so…frank.”

“I don’t want to lose out just because I didn’t have the balls to make my intentions clear.”

She could appreciate that—but it also made her fear that he might be the type to fall
out
of love just as quickly.

If she took the gamble, how would she explain to her friends that she was dating Dylan Amos? They were the family she’d never had, the people who’d pulled her through the past seventeen years. Was she a fool to completely disregard their advice and concern?

They’d come home from the cruise and freak out when they heard. But Dylan was like a drug she’d tried in their absence. All she wanted to do was take another hit, return to that place of euphoria only he could take her.

She wouldn’t be the same when her friends saw her again. Would she be able to meld this new relationship with the ones she already had?

The hope was there, but she was afraid her friends, especially Eve, would never really accept Dylan. Certain they had to save her from heartbreak, they’d unite against him.

Fortunately, she had a few days before she had to deal with their reaction. She’d give herself that much time to see where this was going....

“I’m in for dinner,” she said, “but…we won’t be sleeping together afterward. If we’re going to take this seriously, I want to get to really know you first.”

“You’ve got seventeen more questions,” he said. “Better make them count.”

19

“S
o what did you think?”

Cheyenne rose up on her elbows and squinted to make out the blurry shape on the edge of her bed: Presley. “What time is it?” she mumbled, but her voice cracked and she had to clear her throat to get all the words out.

“Does it matter?”

“Maybe not to you.” She twisted around to find her alarm clock. “
Five!
God, that’s early, especially on a Sunday, which is usually my only day to sleep in. What are you doing?”

“I want to hear about Dylan.”

With a groan, Cheyenne fell back on the pillows. “Did you just get home?”

“A few minutes ago.”

“Where have you been?”

“Hanging out with Aaron.”

That didn’t provide much information. Cheyenne wanted to relax—at least her sister was home safe—but she couldn’t avoid the fact that Presley was high. Now that the sleep was beginning to clear from Cheyenne’s head, she could tell by her sister’s too-loud voice. “What are you on?”

Presley’s gesture was irritable. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I
do
worry about it. All the time.”

“I’m fine!”

“You need to get off drugs, Pres. Go back into rehab if you can’t stop on your own.”

She hopped off the bed. “You sound like Dylan.”

“He said something to you?”

“Tonight he told me Aaron and I are heading down the wrong road. He asked me not to bring drugs to the house, said Aaron’s getting in over his head. But I don’t know why Dylan’s blaming me. Aaron has plenty of ways to get what he wants. It’s not like I’m his pusher. I share with him. He shares with me. That’s all.”

“So that’s where your money’s going.”

“He pays for his share, and when he pays I deliver.”

Then Dylan was right. “That’s got to stop!”

“It will. Soon.”

After Anita died. Once she figured out a way to cope. But Cheyenne feared whatever she was taking would have too strong a hold on her by then. Dylan was obviously worried about Aaron, too. But five o’clock in the morning probably wasn’t the best time to force the issue.

Cheyenne took a deep breath. “Have you checked on Mom?”

“No, I haven’t. Sometimes I’m just…too afraid to go in there.”

“I’ll do it.” Cheyenne swung her legs over the bed, but Presley stopped her.

“How did it end tonight? With Dylan?”

“He brought me home about one.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“No bumping and grinding? No wet kisses or wild orgasms?”

Guilt welled up, along with the heat of a blush, making Cheyenne glad it was dark. “No.”

“How disappointing.”

Cheyenne rolled her eyes. “Actually, he’s taking me out tomorrow night—if you’re available to stay with Mom.”

“I was scheduled to work, but Carolyn can cover my shift. She’s looking for more hours to help with the cost of Christmas.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. She asked me if I had any she could take.”

“So you’ll do it?”

“Of course.”

Cheyenne studied what she could see of her sister’s face. “How well do you know Dylan?”

“We’ve been friends a long time.”

“Not close friends.”

“No, but I’ve seen a lot of him.”

“Do you think he’s someone I can trust?”

“I think he’d be good in bed. Why does everything have to be so serious with you?”

“Because I don’t want to pay the price of screwing up my life!”

Sobering, Presley glared at her. “You’re such a killjoy.”

“Choices have consequences, Pres. That’s not my doing.”

Her hand went to her stomach. “I need to tell you something.”

A prickle of unease ran down Cheyenne’s spine. “What’s that?”

“I might be pregnant.”

Unease instantly turned to nausea. “
What?
And you’re still doing
drugs?
”

“It’s not for sure. I’m just late, that’s all.”

Oh, God. “Whose baby is it?”

“Whose do you think?”

She seemed offended by the question, but Cheyenne had to ask. Sometimes Presley went home with total strangers she met at the casino. And there was that date last weekend. “Aaron’s?”

“Of course. He’s the only one I’ve been with recently, at least without protection,” she added under her breath.

Cheyenne didn’t know what to say. Her mouth hung open as she tried to absorb this news.

“Never mind.” She waved Cheyenne off with a grimace. “It’s not your problem. I’ll take care of it myself. It’s not the end of the world, you know?”

“Meaning…”

“I’ll get an abortion.”

Whether or not to end a pregnancy wasn’t something Cheyenne was prepared to consider—for her sister
or
herself. She raked her fingers through her hair. “Does Aaron know about the possibility?”

“No. There’s no reason to tell him. He won’t want it. He’s no more ready for a child than I am.”

Cheyenne swallowed hard. “You need to tell him.”

“No.”

“But maybe you’re wrong about him not wanting it. Maybe—”

“Trust me, the Amoses are
not
the marrying kind. So if you like Dylan, watch out. Whatever you do, don’t expect a commitment,” she said, and left.

Knees suddenly too weak to carry her to Anita’s room, Cheyenne sagged onto the bed. She’d already had sex with Dylan without birth control once. It’d happened so fast she hadn’t thought much about it, other than to assure herself that it hadn’t been when she was ovulating.

But, even so, there was a chance....

Was she letting herself drift down the same turbulent stream as her sister?

The fear that welled up said she was. What was she
thinking,
agreeing to see Dylan? If they got involved, it would never culminate in the kind of relationship she wanted. Presley had warned her as clearly as Eve. And, unlike Eve, Presley would know.

Which was why, when Joe called midmorning to ask her to come over and help him decorate the tree they’d bought together, she said yes.

It was also why she called Dylan as soon as she hung up with Joe and broke their date.

* * *

Eve had scrimped and saved for this vacation for months. She’d thought she’d enjoy it more than she was. But she’d decided that two weeks was too long to be gone. She couldn’t wait to get home.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Turning away from the sun glimmering off the azure ocean, Eve faced Callie, who was lying on the lounge chair next to hers. They were out of port, so they were spending the morning at the pool on the top deck of the cruise ship. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been so quiet the past few days.”

She shifted the elastic on her bikini to make sure she didn’t end up with two different tan lines. “I’m worried about Cheyenne.”

“You called her, didn’t you?”

“Yes…”

“Didn’t she sound okay? You said her mother is still alive.”

“She is.” For a change, Eve’s concerns didn’t pertain to Anita.

Callie slid her sunglasses up to the bridge of her nose. “I’m
so
glad. I’ve been afraid she might pass away while we’re gone. We really should be there when it happens.”

“I know.” Eve had two brothers, but both were significantly older and lived elsewhere. Cheyenne was the sister she’d never had. If not for the love she felt for her best friend, she probably would’ve resented the fact that Joe preferred her. As it was, she was sort of excited that Cheyenne might finally have found a man who’d love and appreciate her the way she deserved.

“So…is it Joe?” Callie asked.

Eve anchored her hair behind her ears to stop the wind from whipping it around her face. “No. I just wish I hadn’t announced to the world that I was interested in him. Then I wouldn’t have to keep explaining that I’m okay. You know how I feel about Chey. She’s never had anything. I can take this on the chin for her.”

“You’re a true friend.” Callie reached out to squeeze her arm. “I guessed you’d feel that way.”

“I’m more disappointed than hurt,” she said. “Joe and I went out to dinner
once,
and it was at my invitation. It’s not as if we were engaged.”

Callie made a face. “At this rate I wonder if any of us will ever get engaged.”

“I guess we’re late bloomers. Only Kyle’s been married. And Gail. She hit the jackpot.”

“Sophia, too.”

Her eyes drifted to the pool, where the guys were swimming or hanging out along the edge. Again, Eve wondered about Callie and Kyle but knew better than to ask. “Sophia’s married. She didn’t hit the jackpot, though.”

“True. Skip’s a jerk.”

“But he
is
rich.”

“Doesn’t matter. She’s miserable.”

Eve wiggled her toes, admiring her new pedicure. “And she doesn’t count, anyway.”

“Why not?”

“She wasn’t part of our group in high school. She had her own posse and made good use of them, remember? They were your classic ‘mean girls.’”

“I think she’s changed.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. I’m glad she couldn’t come on the cruise. Ted hates that she keeps hanging around.”

They could see small splashes as Ted swam laps. “Do you think it’s because he still has a thing for her?”

“He’d kill us for even suggesting it, but…I wouldn’t be surprised. Maybe he’s got a string of women coming to his place. It’s certainly romantic up there. But I don’t get that impression, so…he might be holding a candle.”

“What about you and Kyle?” The words popped out before Eve could check them.

Callie yawned and stretched. “What about us?”

“You seem to be pretty close.”

“We are. I helped him through his divorce from that crazy bitch he married.”

“You’re not sleeping together....”

With a scowl, Callie tossed a towel at her. “No!”

Eve knocked it away. “You sure?”

“I’m positive! It’s strictly platonic. I wouldn’t want to be with him while he’s on the rebound, anyway.”

That qualified her response, and made Eve wonder even more, but she didn’t push it any further. She could tell by Callie’s reaction that it would be pointless. She’d only get more protestations of friendship.

“There
is
some romantic tension in our little group, though,” Callie said, settling back in her chaise.

“Involving…”

She lifted her sunglasses. “Baxter.”

Eve adjusted her chair so she could sit up a little straighter. Callie couldn’t have picked a friend who surprised her more. “Baxter and who else?”

“Never mind.” After retrieving her camera from the table between them, she took several shots of the guys in the pool.

“Don’t do that!” Eve protested.

“Take photos?”

“Throw out a hook and then yank it back. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I shouldn’t.” The camera whirred with a series of rapid-fire shots.

“But you want to.”

Callie put her Nikon back down. “I want someone to tell me I’m wrong.”

“Then…let me try.”

She rolled to the right, so their friends in the pool couldn’t see her mouth move or hear her voice. “I think he’s in love.”

Eve blinked in surprise. “With who?”

There was another long pause.

“Callie…”

Callie cupped a hand around her mouth as if the steps she’d taken weren’t enough to insure their privacy. “Noah.”

“No.”
Eve shook her head. “You’re not saying…”

Obviously uncomfortable, she frowned. “I’m saying
maybe.
That’s all. I mean, haven’t you noticed the way he looks at Noah? It’s almost as if…as if he worships him!”

Baxter tended to brood, but she’d never attached
that
kind of significance to his moods. Now she wondered if Callie could be right. If so, he had a reason to sulk because she couldn’t see Noah getting together with any guy, even him. “But…if he’s gay, why would he hide it from
us?
He knows we’d love him just as much.”

Callie raised an eyebrow. “
We
would. But Whiskey Creek is a very conservative town. His parents would be mortified. And what about Noah? The second Baxter comes out, he loses the man he loves, who also happens to be his best friend.”

Shading her eyes, Eve regarded Callie’s tormented expression. “That’s too sad to contemplate.”

“And if it’s true, which one of them will stay in the group?”

“We would never, ever pick.”

“Yet they
both
couldn’t join us at the coffee shop, or anywhere else, for that matter. They wouldn’t feel comfortable.”

Eve reclaimed the towel she’d thrown. “I can’t believe it. You’re…you’re stereotyping, that’s all.”

Callie blanched at the accusation. “Am I?”

“Yes! Baxter is suave and well-dressed and has better taste than the rest of us. He might also be a little more…
emotional.
That doesn’t make him gay.”

“Okay.”

The fact that she backed off merely made the seed she’d planted sprout more quickly.

“I mean—” Eve smoothed out a smear of sunblock on her left thigh “—he and Noah grew up next door to each other. They’re best friends—almost siblings—like Chey and me—”

“No.” Callie broke in. “
Not
like you and Chey. The older they get, the more friction there is between them.”

Eve supposed Callie would know before she would. She captured expressions and nuances through the lens of her camera that others missed. She’d been taking pictures of the trip since they flew out of Sacramento.

Keeping up one hand to block the sun, she took a closer look at what was going on in the pool. While Ted swam laps, Kyle floated on his back near the far corner, talking to Noah, who was sitting on the edge, dangling his feet.

She had to admit that Noah was attractive. Broad-shouldered and long-limbed, he had smooth, bronze skin that rippled over all that biking muscle. But Eve wasn’t convinced there was even a possibility of Baxter’s being in love with Noah—until her eyes cut to the table where Baxter was reading a book. Although far from conclusive, the way he was looking at Noah made her uncomfortable. “You really think…”

“I don’t know,” Callie responded. “I’m afraid for Bax, that’s all.”