When Snow Falls
He could tell that she hadn’t been wearing a bra when she came to the door. She’d gone and put one on right away. But the gentle sway of her breasts as she moved in those first few seconds had reminded him that it had been a long time since he’d felt a woman’s soft body beneath his, especially a woman he wanted to make love to.
Those weren’t the kinds of thoughts he’d been anticipating in conjunction with his little sister’s unfortunate friend. When he let his father goad him into visiting her, he’d figured it was better than staying home or going to Sexy Sadie’s and milling around with the same old crowd.
Or…maybe he’d been lying to himself from the beginning. Maybe seeing Cheyenne as a desirable woman instead of a pity project was what he’d been hoping to avoid by keeping his distance from her in the first place.
A honk broke into his thoughts. Riley Stinson sat in his beat-up Explorer, idling at the light next to him.
Joe rolled down the passenger window. Riley was another of his sister’s friends, but Joe liked him as much as Gail did. Although most of Joe’s buddies from high school had moved on, as he’d originally done, the people in her group were still as tight as family.
“I don’t usually see you out so late,” Riley called above the rumble of their engines.
“Just checking to make sure the station’s locked up.” Joe wasn’t sure why he lied. He supposed he felt a little funny about seeing Cheyenne after going to dinner with Eve last night. Also, he knew that Cheyenne would appreciate the discretion.
“Everything okay?”
Someone had broken in after-hours about three years ago and looted the minimart. Whoever it was had taken all the alcohol, cigarettes and condoms. But there hadn’t been any trouble since. “Fine,” Joe replied. He had driven past the station, but only because, in a town this size, it was unavoidable. “What about you? What’re you up to?”
“Heading home.”
“From…”
“My folks.” He covered a yawn. “I fell asleep there a couple hours ago.”
“Where’s Jacob?” Riley had gotten a girl by the name of Phoenix pregnant while in high school. She’d always been a little different, definitely offbeat, but no one could’ve guessed she was capable of murder. She ran down the next girl he showed interest in and went to prison before the baby was even born. Riley and his parents had had Jacob since birth, when the authorities had shuttled the infant out to them.
That story had been the talk of the town back in the day. It was the most sensational thing to ever happen in Whiskey Creek—except for the cave-in at the old mine, which had killed Noah Rackham’s twin brother right about the same time.
“I let him sleep over. I have to repair a roof first thing in the morning.”
“Doesn’t he usually go along and help if he’s on break?”
Riley, a contractor, was already teaching Jacob how to build and fix houses. As Jacob grew older, the two acted more like good buddies than father and son.
“I told him he could spend the day with Grandma and Grandpa tomorrow.”
“They getting ready for Christmas?”
Riley grinned. “He has cooking, decorating and going shopping to look forward to.”
Joe could tell Riley was glad to be off the hook. “How does Jacob feel about that?”
“He wanted to come with me, but I told him it would make Grandma happy to have him stay. The bells and whistles of the holidays are very important to my mom.” His tone suggested he didn’t quite understand, which made Joe smile. He didn’t see the point in some of the tacky decorations he saw, either. Putting up a tree just meant it had to be taken down. But he knew that was being too practical and was willing to do whatever it took to keep his girls happy.
The light had turned green twice already, but there wasn’t anyone behind them so they didn’t feel any pressure to drive on.
“How’s Gail?” Riley asked.
“Happy. Busy doing Simon’s PR and managing the other publicists at her firm. They have a star-studded list now.”
“Simon’s got another new movie coming out, I hear.”
Joe checked his rearview mirror again. Still clear. “Another blockbuster. This June.”
“I’ve been meaning to call Gail. I want to tell her I got a Christmas card from Phoenix.”
Leaning forward, Joe turned off his stereo. “Does she write you often?”
“She sends letters to Jacob all the time but I don’t pass them on. There’s no way I want to nurture that relationship. I rarely hear from her myelf, though.”
“Why do you think she sent the card?”
Suddenly pensive, he frowned and tapped his steering wheel. “She gets out this summer.”
Another car came motoring up from behind, forcing them to move on.
“Good luck with that,” Joe called.
“Thanks. I might need it,” Riley said with a wave.
* * *
A noise alerted Cheyenne to the fact that she was no longer alone. Presley came stumbling into the kitchen, squinted at the clock, then groaned. She acted as if it was far too early to face the day, but it was eleven-thirty. “Where are you going?” she mumbled through a yawn.
Cheyenne had been up, doing some cleaning, since six. “A friend wants my help picking out a Christmas tree,” she said as she rinsed her coffee cup.
Her sister started for the fridge, then stopped and winced as if that much movement hurt her aching head. “What friend?”
“Does it matter?” Cheyenne took two ibuprofen tablets from the cupboard and handed them over.
Presley wrinkled her nose. “This the best you can do?”
She wasn’t getting anything stronger. Not from Cheyenne. “That’s it.”
Obviously exasperated, her sister popped them in her mouth, pulled the orange juice from the fridge and drank out of the jug.
Cheyenne scowled at her. “Seriously? You can’t get a cup?”
“Too late now,” she said as she put the juice back. “And do you have to talk so loud? What’s wrong with you today?”
The keys to the Olds were lying next to her purse. Cheyenne grabbed both. “Nothing.”
“Something has you bugged. You’re in a shitty mood.”
Because Cheyenne had been up most of the night, trying to talk herself into canceling. A loyal best friend would’ve refused to go anywhere with Joe. But she kept telling herself that nothing was going to happen. She’d pay off her poker debt while Eve was gone, so Eve would never even know about it, and that would be the end of it. What was so bad about buying and decorating a tree with a friend’s big brother?
“I’m in a hurry,” she said. Joe had called to say he’d pick her up at noon, but she’d insisted on dropping her car just outside of town. From there, they’d go to Jackson. Most of her friends were away. They’d had to be up long before dawn to get to the airport by eight. But still… No way did she want anyone she knew to see them together.
“What’s the rush?” Presley rubbed her temples. “Christmas is two weeks away.”
Cheyenne didn’t answer. She was too busy pulling on her coat and scarf.
“And I thought all your friends went to the Caribbean,” Presley added, slouching against the counter.
“Not all of them,” Cheyenne said.
“Who’s left?”
Anxious to get out of the house, Cheyenne didn’t even glance at her. “Riley’s still here.”
“You’re getting a tree with Riley? That’s what has you so worked up?”
“Nothing has me worked up.” Realizing that she’d forgotten to note the amount of morphine she’d given their mother in the log, she searched for a pen and wrote down the information. “How was your date last night?”
Presley scowled. “I’ve had better.”
“What movie did you see?”
“We skipped the movie.”
“So what did you do?”
“He took me back to his place.”
Tossing the pen aside, Cheyenne whirled to face her. “That’s it? You had sex?”
She shrugged. “He wasn’t a total cheapskate.”
“Meaning he provided the drugs and alcohol.”
No response.
“Why do you settle for so little?” Cheyenne knew the intensity of her words and expression would bother Presley, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted her sister to be happy and that didn’t seem possible if her sister continued down the same road as Anita.
“You have fun your way. I’ll have fun mine,” she said, shuffling back to bed.
Cheyenne watched her go, then checked the clock. If she didn’t leave now, she’d be late.
She felt a hint of misgiving as she reached for the door handle. She even pulled her cell phone from her purse and stared down at Joe’s number.
Call him. She could tell him no, put an end to whatever they’d started last night.
Her finger hovered over the button. But she’d been waiting for the chance to spend time with him for far too long.
“Today and the next Saturday with his girls. That’s all,” she promised Eve, and walked out.
8
Cheyenne had the creamiest-looking skin Joe had ever seen. He’d noticed before, of course, but as they wandered through the Christmas-tree lot in Jackson, with the cold adding a tinge of pink to her cheeks, he realized she was even prettier than he’d given her credit for. She was interesting, too. She saw the world so differently from the women he’d dated in the past.
“What about this one?” he asked. They’d finally arrived at the corner of the lot where St. Nick’s displayed their best and most expensive trees. Joe had been searching for this section all along. He knew finding it would make the decision an easy one. But Cheyenne wasn’t convinced. She scrunched up her nose as she inspected the ten-foot-high blue spruce with the $150 price tag.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. “It’s perfect.”
“That’s just it,” she said with a sigh. “It’s too perfect.”
This surprised him. “How can a Christmas tree be too perfect?”
“Anyone with enough money can buy a tree like this. An expensive artificial tree would be, technically, even more perfect—no branch out of place and that sort of thing. The challenge is to take something that has serious flaws and make it beautiful.” She turned in a slow circle, inspecting the options around them before pointing at a specimen that had been shoved off to the side. “What about that one?”
He couldn’t believe it. She’d chosen the ugliest tree he’d ever seen. Whoever owned the lot obviously agreed with him because it bore a clearance tag that read, Only $35!
To humor her, he went over and tried to stand it up straight. “You’re kidding. Look, it has a broken branch.”
She didn’t move on as he expected. “I can see that.”
“What about all the gaps and holes along the bottom, where it should be the fullest?”
“We can use garland and decorations to fill that in.”
Was she trying to help him save money? Show him how thrifty she could be? “Why mess with it? What you’d save on the tree itself, you’d spend on decorations.”
“Maybe. But bringing out this tree’s true beauty would be a worthy challenge. Then it wouldn’t have been chopped down for nothing.”
A lot of trees were going to be wasted. He couldn’t save them all. But he supposed it was refreshing that she wasn’t demanding the best money could buy. She saw value in a tree that had been tossed aside and rejected by everyone else who’d already come through.
“Now I understand why you picked the tree you did for your own house,” he joked.
She gave him a guilty-as-charged expression. “It would’ve been wasted, too.”
“I see.” He wondered how his girls would react. At eight and ten, they were still pretty young. Maybe they wouldn’t notice the tree’s imperfections. “You think you can make it look decent?”
“With enough lights and ornaments, we can make any tree look decent.”
This woman was quirky. Of course, her background and situation would make her a bit different, but he’d never thought he’d like those differences as much as he did. Suzie had known nothing but safety, security, love and praise. She’d been so terribly spoiled that she couldn’t settle for the attention of just one man; she’d had to have the attention of every man in their social circle.
Cheyenne, by contrast, had no compulsion to be the center of attention. She’d grown up living on the fringe, saw beauty in the unconventional.
“Or…maybe you’ll like that other tree better,” she said, suddenly second-guessing herself. “Get the nice one, if it suits you.”
He glanced between the two options. He’d automatically chosen the expensive, seemingly perfect Christmas tree when he’d fallen in love with Suzie. He’d been young, too young to marry, but he’d never questioned that she’d be a wonderful wife. Maybe it was time to try a tree that hadn’t been placed in the best corner of the lot, one that’d had to struggle just to survive.
It was an interesting thought. One worth considering. “I’m fine with this one,” he said, and motioned to the employee who’d been trailing them through the lot. “We’ll take it.”
The young man’s eyebrows went up. “Seriously? Dude, we were about to throw that tree out.”
“Now you don’t have to,” Joe said.
With a shrug, the guy waved to a coworker wearing a Santa hat and, together, they muscled it off the lot and into the bed of Joe’s truck. Joe was just paying the thirty-five dollars when he turned to say something to Cheyenne and spotted a man standing in line he’d hoped never to see again.
* * *
“Hey, that you, big guy?”
A jolt of alarm shot through Cheyenne when someone recognized Joe. She assumed the person lived in Whiskey Creek, which meant Eve might hear about them being together. But when she looked at the handsome, blond-haired man who’d come up behind them, she realized she’d never seen him before. At that point, she would’ve relaxed—if Joe hadn’t stiffened.
“Lance.” He gave a slight tilt of his head, but there was no warm smile, no pleasure Cheyenne could detect in meeting this person.
The man seemed oblivious to Joe’s negative reaction. Or he was too interested in whatever he could learn to let the lack of welcome bother him.
“I can’t believe it!” He slapped Joe on the back. “It’s been years, buddy! What are you doing here? You can’t be living in Jackson....”
Joe accepted his change and shoved it in his pocket without counting it. “No, Whiskey Creek,” he responded, and stepped out of the way so they wouldn’t hold up the line that had formed.
When Cheyenne moved with him, Lance’s eyes cut to her. “This your new wife?”
“Actually—”
The cashier interrupted. “That’ll be eighty-five dollars,” he said, waiting for Lance to pay.
Lance handed him some cash but never took his eyes off Joe. “Last I heard, you were still single.”
“That hasn’t changed.” Joe didn’t explain what Cheyenne was to him, but he performed a perfunctory introduction. “Chey, this is Lance Phillips. He was my—” he seemed to be picking his words carefully “—neighbor when I lived in Sac.”
“Nice to meet you,” she murmured.
As Lance shook her hand, Cheyenne got the impression he was sizing her up, wondering if she and Joe were romantically involved. Deciding whether or not he found her attractive enough to be considered a good catch. “They call you Chey?”
“Yes. It’s short for Cheyenne, Cheyenne Christensen.”
“My pleasure.” His gaze lingered on her, then shifted back to Joe. “How are your girls?”
A muscle twitched in Joe’s cheek. “You’re asking me? You probably see them more often than I do these days.”
Lance blinked several times, obviously taken aback. “Not anymore. Suzie didn’t tell you? We moved here shortly after you, er, left.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No.”
“Who’s we?”
“What do you mean?” He laughed awkwardly. “Me, Maddy and the kids, of course.”
“So Maddy stuck with you.”
The cashier handed Lance his change.
“Yes,” Lance said, losing some of his false cheer. “Things got a little rough, as you know, but then we found out she was expecting and decided we had too many reasons to hang on to our marriage. That child turned out to be the little girl she always wanted,” he added, attempting another smile.
“A girl,” Joe repeated.
“Yes.”
A strained silence followed. It felt to Cheyenne as if Joe had just suffered a blow of some sort. She’d watched him for too many years not to recognize when he was upset. Something about this conversation, this person, was all wrong. Maybe they’d once been neighbors, but Joe had no liking or respect for Lance. Was he one of the men rumored to have slept with Suzie? Gail had mentioned infidelity, and Cheyenne couldn’t imagine anything else making Joe act like this.
“Congratulations,” Joe finally said, the word so dry Cheyenne wondered how it hadn’t turned to dust in his mouth.
“We named her Madeline, after her mother. She’s been a real blessing.” Lance talked fast, as if doing so might carry him into friendlier territory. “Came at the perfect time.”
“For you, maybe. I don’t see how a pregnancy forcing Maddy to give you another chance could’ve been a blessing to her.”
All pretense of camaraderie disappeared. “I’ve apologized, Joe.” Lance shoved his hands in the pockets of his worn jeans and hunched forward in his wool pea coat. “I don’t know what more I can do.”
“You can quit pretending we’re friends,” Joe said, and guided Cheyenne away.
Cheyenne could hear Joe’s labored breathing as he marched to his truck. With his hands curved into fists, he walked so quickly she could barely keep up.
“Why do you hate that guy so much?” she asked once they’d both climbed inside the cab. Although she had her suspicions, she had no idea if she was right.
He gazed at her, but she was fairly certain he wasn’t seeing her. His mind was somewhere far away. When he came back to himself, he seemed almost startled to realize she was in the truck with him.
“I’m taking you home,” he said. “This was a mistake.”
* * *
Presley stared down at Eugene Crouch’s business card. All his information was there—his name, the name of his agency, his P.I. license number and his email address. She could contact him easily, right now while her mother slept, with a phone call or an email, and put an end to the mystery of the blonde woman.
She owed her sister the chance to assume her rightful identity, didn’t she? The chance to have the respectable family she’d always longed for. Those ringlets in Cheyenne’s hair, the expensive party dress and the pretty shoes suggested she’d come from a very different situation than the one in which she’d been raised, a far superior situation—
“Presley?” Anita called. “Where are you? Aren’t you going to turn on our show?”
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