When Snow Falls (Whiskey Creek #2)(22)
Author: Brenda Novak

It didn’t give an actual address. She didn’t even know where he was from. New Mexico? Here? Somewhere else?

Regardless, there was enough information that she could contact him. Should she do it?

If not, she had to at least tell Chey what she suspected his business with them to be. Not telling would be unfair, almost as unfair as what Anita had done in the first place.

But what would Chey do when she found out they weren’t even related? That she was and always had been better than her mother and sister—as good as the group of friends she’d admired for so long?

Would she go back to her original family? Embrace what could have been?

If so, she wouldn’t want the one person who reminded her of everything she’d lost tagging along. Maybe she’d even begin to blame Presley. In a way, she had the right. It was Presley whose pleading for a playmate had instigated the events that had changed Cheyenne’s life. If not for Presley, Anita wouldn’t have bothered to take on a second child. Half the time she hadn’t wanted either one of them.

“Presley! Why won’t you answer me?”

Anita’s voice had turned into a panicked sob. Presley had to go reassure her. But she wanted to make a decision on this first. Constantly dwelling on it, having Crouch’s card in her pocket, was driving her crazy.

She picked up her cell phone but couldn’t bring herself to dial. Cheyenne was the only person she had in the world, the only person, besides Anita, whom she loved. If the truth came out, Cheyenne would have no reason to stay with her. Resentment would eventually overtake any good feelings she had, and that would be the end of what they’d known as sisters. Presley was too realistic about her own shortcomings to believe she was the type of sibling Cheyenne would cling to.

Anita was dying. Soon, their mother would no longer have any effect on Cheyenne’s happiness. That meant Cheyenne didn’t need to know about Crouch or the years that had come before. It was too late to undo what had been done. Even worse, it might make Cheyenne more miserable to realize what Anita had stolen from her.

“Should I tell her, Mom?” Presley suddenly cried out.

Silence met this question. With all the medication, and considering that they hadn’t discussed Crouch since right after she’d met him, Presley thought her mother would ask what she was talking about.

But Anita didn’t need clarification. In a lucid moment, she called out, “You’re a fool if you do.”

Her mother was right, she decided. God help her but she couldn’t tell Chey. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. Then she took out her lighter and burned Crouch’s card in the sink.

9

Cheyenne didn’t know what to make of her two hours with Joe, but the minute he dropped her off at her car and drove away, she felt instantly relieved. Nothing had happened.

She also felt terribly disappointed for the same reason. Which made no sense at all. She’d known they could only be friends; she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she let it go any further.

“So get over him,” she muttered, and got into her Oldsmobile. She still owed him a day of tree decorating with his girls, but doubted he’d collect. She’d convinced him to buy that damaged, ugly tree, and now he was on his own with it. Whatever had possessed him to come over last night, and invite her to join him today, had fizzled. After that ambiguous “mistake” comment, he’d scarcely said a word to her, and she’d instinctively known not to push him.

“It’s fortunate that he’s backing off,” she told herself. “You don’t want to be the kind of friend who’d sneak around on Eve.” No one had come through for her like Eve and the Harmons.

She checked her phone. Afraid she might accidentally dial one of her friends, who would then be able to overhear her and Joe, she’d turned it off when she left the house earlier. But, hoping for some contact from Eve to bolster her resolve, she powered it up again.

As she’d expected, Eve had sent her a series of text messages.

Layover in Minneapolis two hours long. Argh! Going to grab a bite with the gang.

Ted is in rare form. Kept us entertained on the plane. Baxter is sulking—who knows why. Callie and Kyle are sitting together—another clue that things between them might be more serious than they’re letting on. Noah spent the flight completely zonked out. Can’t believe I chose him for my seat partner. Sure feels strange leaving you behind. Everyone says so. We should have done more to get you on this trip!

How’s your mom?

Fine, Cheyenne texted back. We’re both fine. But she wasn’t entirely sure. Anita wasn’t long for this earth. And being the object of Joe’s attention, even for such a short period, had made the yearning she felt for him that much more poignant.

What would it be like to feel his bare skin against hers? She’d never experienced that kind of sensation, but she’d dreamed of it often enough. And he was always the man in her dreams.

Gently banging her head against the steering wheel, she groaned, then forced herself to sit up and act like an adult. She’d get through this the way she survived everything else—by taking it one day at a time.

She started to drive home but when she reached Whiskey Creek and the road leading to the dilapidated string of homes tucked away by the river, she couldn’t make herself turn. If she went back, Presley would come up with some excuse to take off, and Cheyenne would once again be left alone with Anita.

She needed a longer break. So she crept down Sutter Street at ten miles per hour, trying to enjoy the Christmas decorations strung on the historic buildings and converted Victorians. As in so many other gold-mining towns of the 1800s, the storefronts of Whiskey Creek had a quaint charm, with multipaned windows, antique lettering, old-fashioned streetlights hung with wreaths—at least in December—and Western boardwalks.

When she passed the huge, decorated tree in the park, where the city council had recently erected a giant statue of a man panning for gold, she stopped and got out.

She was staring up at the angel poised at the very top, her thoughts a million miles away—on Eve and Joe, on the P.I. Presley had mentioned to her mother, on the renovations that were to begin tomorrow—when a voice intruded.

“Enjoying the fresh air?”

The question came from behind her and had a sardonic edge.

When she turned, she saw a man leaning up against the cinder-block building that housed the public restrooms. With his face cast in the shadow of the overhang, she couldn’t immediately tell who he was. It took her a second to identify the voice, but her memory eventually came up with a name.