When Snow Falls (Whiskey Creek #2)(79)
Author: Brenda Novak

“She could’ve moved after she went into remission.”

“Presley and I were out of high school by then, and she knew we wouldn’t go with her. We were both too happy to have finally put down roots.”

“She didn’t want to go without you?”

“I think that having us made her feel grounded, needed, connected. And she was older by then, had lost some of the compulsion to keep moving.”

“She’s never had anyone besides the two of you?”

“No. She didn’t come from the best family.” She stared up at him. “Can I ask you a question?”

He gave her a half smile. “Does this count toward the seventeen?”

“It should. It’s a hard one.”

She’d been answering some pretty hard questions herself. And after all, turnabout was fair play. “Shoot.”

“How do you feel about your father?”

He’d known this would be coming sooner or later. Of course she’d be curious. Anyone would. “That’s complicated.”

“I think I might understand why.”

For a brief moment, Dylan felt the urge to light up but pushed the desire away and finished his wine. “He still writes us regularly.”

“I wondered. What does he say?”

“That he screwed up. That he’s sorry. That he loves us.”

“Do you believe him?”

“I guess. People make mistakes. But…he gets out in less than two years. I don’t want to reestablish a relationship because then my house would be the first one he comes to, and I’m not sure I can trust him not to climb right back into a bottle.”

“Doesn’t he own the house and the business?”

“Not anymore. He sold them to me a few years ago. In return I put some money on his books, which makes prison life a lot easier.”

“So you’ve corresponded.”

“Not very often. And not anymore.”

“Do you think you’ll ever write him again?”

“Sometimes I consider it.” Her hair slipped through his fingers. “There’s something between us, whether I want it or not. And he owes it to my brothers to try to be some kind of father. They’re his responsibility, not mine.” Even though he’d done his best to carry them in his father’s absence.

Sympathy softened her expression. “I’m so sorry for what happened. It wasn’t fair to you or your brothers.”

It wasn’t the unfairness of life that bothered Dylan. He’d come to terms with that. He just wished certain things could be relegated to the past and left there. But no. He’d have to deal with his father again in two years. “I guess you have to learn to roll over the bumps.”

She smiled. “That’s a good way to put it. I certainly never thought my life with Anita and Presley would end like this. Anita seemed too tough to ever die. And Presley…I always hoped she’d realize her strengths and make the most of them.”

“Do you blame Aaron that she didn’t?” She’d indicated as much when he’d approached her in the park. It was partly why she’d resented him. At least she’d given him that impression.

“Not really. I wished she’d find someone who had his life figured out, so he could help her. But…now that I’ve seen her with Aaron, I know your brother isn’t the cause of her problems any more than she’s the cause of his. They identify with each other. That’s what draws them together.”

“You told me you think Presley’s in love with Aaron.”

“She might be, but they’re both so broken….” She grew pensive again. Another sip of her wine and a shift in attitude signaled a change of subject. “I don’t believe Chief Stacy will really do much to look for Presley, do you?”

“He said he’d put out an APB.” Dylan wanted to comfort her where he could, but he was hardly convinced that the chief of police felt any need to gather the troops. Stacy said someone who was grieving could do just about anything, even miss Christmas. But at least they’d done their best to get him involved.

“Will that be enough?”

“We have to hope it will.” After visiting Stacy’s house, they’d gone out looking again, hoping to spot Presley’s car, but found nothing.

Several seconds passed. Then she said, “What if I have another mother out there…somewhere? What if all this—” she waved a hand around the room “—was never meant to be?”

Then they wouldn’t have met. But he didn’t say that. “Another mother could be a good thing.”

“Or it could be a bitter disappointment,” she said. “What if Anita didn’t steal me? What if my real mother gave me away? Maybe she was no better than Anita. Worse, because she wanted to be rid of me.”

“That’s not very likely,” he said. “It isn’t consistent with your memories.”

“I’m not even sure those memories are real.”

Her cell phone rang before he could respond. He watched as she grabbed it, so hopeful, then sagged. Obviously, it wasn’t her sister. After hitting the decline button, she tossed it away.

“Who was that?” he asked.

“Eve.”

“You don’t want to talk to her?”

She curled into him again. “Not right now.”

“She’s your best friend. And it’s Christmas Eve.”

“I’ll see her when she gets home.”

“She’s probably worried about you.”

No response.

Eve had been out of town for over a week. Why wouldn’t Cheyenne be excited to hear from her? “Chey?”

“I’m dealing with enough,” she said when she spoke, but he got the feeling it was more than that. She and Eve had been inseparable since high school.

“Commiserating with her might help.”

“I’m fine. I’ve got you.”

Did she have to choose one or the other? “You don’t want her to know about me,” he guessed.

She tucked her hair behind her ears as she sat up. “She already knows.”

“And she doesn’t approve.”

“She needs to see what you’re really like.”

Would that change her opinion? What if he couldn’t win her over? Cheyenne’s friends were a large part of her identity. They’d been her surrogate family. He couldn’t imagine ripping her away from that support; he was sure she’d begin to resent him at some point if he did.