“Wolves?” she asked.
Colby looked up and she was surprised to see tears glistening in his eyes. “Yeah,” he said gruffly. “Shiloh, no.” He gently pushed the dog back from exploring the remains.
Cynthia looked at the little fawn, mostly just bone with a few clumps of fur blowing in the breeze. Her throat went tight.
“I know they have to survive, too, but they’re not even supposed to be here,” Colby burst out. “And with the hunting restrictions, there’s no way we can keep up with their population growth.”
His pain cut to her heart and Cynthia ached to wrap her arms around him. Lee had always been very pragmatic about the realities of life on the farm. Births, deaths, injuries, all seemed to have little effect on him. Colby’s obvious distress cut her to the quick.
Willow pranced restlessly and Cynthia leaned forward to stroke the horse’s neck. “Easy girl, it’s okay,” she said in a low, soothing tone, just as the canyon echoed with an unmistakable howl. It was picked up by other voices and a chorus of howls echoed resonated off the rocks—wolves.
Shiloh’s eyes went flat and he began barking, ears pressed back against his head. Colby leaped to his feet, rushing for the rifle still strapped to Quaker’s saddle. “It’s okay, just—”
But Cynthia didn’t hear the rest of his sentence because in an instant, Willow leaped forward and took off running down the canyon, back toward the Diamond A. Colby and Shiloh flashed by in an instant and the wind clawed Cynthia’s hat from her head. They were moving—fast. She stared down at the ground, at the sagebrush and rocks racing by, and fear clogged her throat. If Willow stumbled ...
“Whoa, whoa, girl.” She fought to keep her voice low and steady as she pulled gently on the reins. “You’re okay, whoa.”
Willow snorted and tossed her head as Cynthia pulled back on the reins more firmly. “You’re okay,” she crooned again. “It’s okay.” The horse finally stopped and stood still, breathing heavily.
“Cynthia!” Colby yanked Quaker to a stop by her side, his eyes wild. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she sighed in relief. “Everything’s fine—isn’t it, sweetheart?” Cynthia’s legs were trembling as she climbed off the horse, thankful to be on solid ground.
“You scared me,” Colby said, also jumping down from Quaker.
Cynthia could see the pulse hammering under the tanned skin of his neck. “Me too,” she admitted. She turned to look back up to the top of the canyon. “Were the wolves close?”
“I don’t think so.” Colby shook his head. “Willow can be a little bit jumpy. I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have put you on her. If anything had happened—”
“It didn’t, and we’re both fine,” Cynthia interrupted firmly.
The breeze blew her hair in front of her face and Colby reached out and smoothed it back. Her pulse sped up at his touch and she leaned slightly toward him, increasing the pressure of his fingers on her forehead.
His eyes burned into hers until she realized what she was doing and pulled back. “I feel awful for that poor little fawn. Is there anything you can do to keep the wolves away?”
Colby took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “Unfortunately, not much. I’ll go up there later and fire some shots, try to scare them into higher country, but they’re aggressive and don’t fear humans the way they should.” He gave her a long look. “That was very impressive, the way you handled Willow.”
“She was just scared.” Cynthia managed a shaky laugh. Her heart was beating out of control, and not from the wild ride down the mountain.
“No.” Colby shook his head. “A skittish horse is not easy to control, especially when it’s not familiar with the rider. You did really well.” He reached out and ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek.
“Well, thank you ... for saying so,” Cynthia stammered. She realized she was biting her lip and stopped quickly, heat rising to her face.
Colby smiled. He used his index finger to trace the outline of her lips. “You’re very beautiful,” he said softly.
“We shouldn’t ... we can’t,” Cynthia whispered. But her willpower faltered as his work-roughened finger scraped over the smooth skin on her lips.
Colby lowered his head until their faces were inches apart. “Can I kiss you?” he asked softly.
“Yes,” she breathed, raising her face to his.
He smiled and closed the distance between them, pressing his lips softly against hers. Then somehow his cowboy hat was in one of her hands while the other one ran up the back of his neck and into his hair. She twined the soft strands around her fingers and felt him shudder. His hands circled her waist, pulling her closer as his lips pressed against hers, fitting together perfectly.
After a long moment, she reluctantly broke away.
“Whoa,” Colby said. “Can we do that again?”
Laughter bubbled out of Cynthia, unstoppable. Her heart seemed to sing, feeling lighter than it had in ... longer than she could remember. “Yes, please,” she said, and her heart sang even louder when he grinned and dipped his head toward hers again.
***
When they finally got back to the stable, Cynthia went to Colby’s apartment to wash up while he took care of the horses. She washed and dried her hands, then stood still, examining her reflection in the bathroom mirror. The windblown cheeks were definitely new, as was the sparkle in her eyes. Had it been this way with Lee, before the stress of the failing farm and then his failing health had intruded? She didn’t think so. The knowledge Colby waited for her outside brought shivers she’d never felt before.
She ran her fingers through her hair, smoothing out the tangles left by the breeze. Colby had gone back up the canyon for her hat, but the damage was already done. Strange that it didn’t seem to matter—somehow, she knew Colby didn’t care if her hair was tangled.
Her gaze fell to the counter, where a small porcelain cup held a bright pink toothbrush printed with flowers. Lily’s.
Something inside of Cynthia seemed to relax. So what if Colby had a five-year-old? So what if there was an age difference? It didn’t really matter, did it? She closed her eyes and remembered the promise she’d made when she was dancing in the studio. It was time to live.
“Do you want some lunch?” Colby was waiting in the apartment when Cynthia emerged from the bathroom. “I can make my BLT special.”
Cynthia shook her head. “Thanks, but I need to get home. I promised the kids we’d spend some time together this afternoon.”
He gathered her into his arms and planted a kiss on her nose. “Okay, but I’ll get to see you tomorrow, right?”
She nodded. “After dance class?”
“Definitely,” he murmured as his lips traveled from her nose across her cheek. She shivered when he kissed the sensitive skin behind her ear. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.
Chapter 11
Cynthia’s finger hovered over the play button on the studio’s sound system. “Remember what to do?” she asked her class, her eyes twinkling.
Eight five-year-olds grinned back at her. “Whatever we want,” Lily supplied.
“That’s right.” Cynthia smiled. “Just let yourself feel the music and dance however your body tells you to move. Without hitting your neighbor,” she added quickly.
She started the music and the girls took off, most of them spinning. Lily’s new orange skirt whirled around her waist as she did a series of wobbly chaîné turns along the back of the studio. Cynthia watched her with a smile. She loved all her students, but there was no question Lily had a special place in her heart, and not just because of her daddy. The little girl was spunky and bright; she constantly asked questions, and her eagerness to learn made Cynthia glow with pride.
Okay, maybe she was getting ahead of herself, but the thought of raising another child didn’t feel so terrifying lately.
When the music ended, Cynthia applauded. “Very good,” she said. “Tell me how it made you feel?�
��
“Happy,” Lily said.
“Like I was flying,” Kellie replied.
“Fun,” Nylene said.
“Made me want to never stop dancing,” Sarah put in.
Cynthia grinned. “Absolutely right, all of you” she said. “And never, ever stop dancing.”
The bell jangled and Cynthia’s gaze shot to the door, her heart speeding to a ridiculous pace. Parents were arriving, but no Colby yet.
“Come to the center for reverence,” Cynthia pulled the girls’ attention away from the door and motioned for them to join her in the middle of the room. She led them through the reverence routine Madame Dubois had been doing for years.
“Fifth position, and plié ... port de bras with the right arm, then the left,” she guided. “Tendu, chassé to the front, and curtsey.” Cynthia broke into applause. “Very good, girls. I’ll see you next week.”
“Nylene is having so much fun.” Beth came toward her amid the applause from the students and parents. “She loves Miss Katie, but I hope you’ll plan to keep teaching even when she’s back.”
“I’m not really sure.” Cynthia tried to keep her eyes focused on Beth, not searching the crowd for Colby. “I haven’t talked to Madame Dubois about that yet.”
“Well, I hope you’ll stay.” Beth gave Cynthia’s arm a squeeze.
The door opened again and Cynthia’s pulse went even faster as Colby came inside, his tall form silhouetted against the bright sunlight pouring through the front windows. He offered a few mumbled greetings to other parents, and their eyes met across the crowded room. Colby’s face broke into a grin and Cynthia felt her own smile warming the room in return.
“Hi, Daddy!” Lily threw herself into his arms.
“Hi, baby girl. How was class?”
Another parent came to talk to Cynthia about the summer schedule, so she didn’t hear Lily’s response. She worked hard to answer the questions and keep her attention from drifting to Colby.
Finally the room cleared out and Colby sauntered toward her. “I arranged for Lily to go to Kellie’s to play,” he said, jerking his head to where Lily and Kellie were leaving with Kellie’s mother.
Butterflies erupted in Cynthia’s stomach. He wanted to be alone with her as much as she wanted to be alone with him. She smiled at him, enjoying the sweet sense of anticipation as the rest of the dancers and their parents filed out. Finally, the studio was quiet.
“So what do you want to do?” Cynthia asked.
He grinned. “Kiss you.”
She met him halfway, her hands running over the soft cotton of his T-shirt to wrap around his neck and tug his head toward hers. Their mouths met with a fierce urgency. Want and need and desire raced through her, leaving her breathless.
“Mother!”
Cynthia jerked away from Colby. Anoria stood in the doorway, shocked, staring. Cynthia hadn’t even heard the bell on the door.
Colby’s hands tightened on her hips briefly, a squeeze of support, then he stepped back.
Anoria’s eyes darted from Cynthia to Colby and back. “What ... what are you doing?” she demanded.
“Anoria—” Cynthia began.
But Anoria spun around and threw her weight into the glass door that had just swung closed behind her. She pushed out into the bright morning sunlight and ran around the corner of the building, out of sight.
“Do you want me to go after her?” Colby offered.
Cynthia sighed and shook her head. “No, that would only make it worse. I’ll go.”
He pulled her toward him in a tight hug. “I’m sorry. I hope I haven’t caused problems.”
“It was overdue anyway,” Cynthia admitted. She didn’t want to go after Anoria; she wanted to stay here, with her cheek resting against Colby’s chest. Finally, reluctantly, she stepped back.
Colby followed her out and waited while she locked the studio. Cynthia looked up and down the street for Anoria, but didn’t see her. “She probably went home,” she reasoned out loud.
Colby drew her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “Call me if you need me. Promise?”
She nodded, dread building in her chest.
***
Cynthia tried the handle on Anoria’s bedroom door and found it locked. “Anoria?” she knocked. “Can I come in?”
“Leave me alone,” came the sullen answer from inside.
“Where’s Jackson?” Cynthia asked.
“How should I know? Probably off with Aiden.”
“Will you open the door, please?”
A pause, then the lock clicked. Cynthia pushed the door open in time to see Anoria jump back onto the bed. Her eyes were wet with tears.
“I don’t understand why you’re so upset,” Cynthia said from the doorway.
“Seriously? After all the time I’ve spent talking about Colby? You knew I liked him and then you just ... stole him from me.”
“That’s not true.” Cynthia moved into the room and sat on the bed. She reached out to take Anoria’s hand, but her daughter jerked away.
“Well, then, what do you call it?” Anoria demanded. “Every time I’ve tried to get to know him better, you get in the way.”
“I think you’ve misread things, honey.” Cynthia fought to keep her tone steady. “I know you have a crush on him, but I don’t think he sees you in the same way.”
“Yeah, because of you,” Anoria snapped. Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. “Now that we’re back in Snow Valley, it’s like you’re trying to forget the last twenty years even happened—that Dad happened, or me and Jackson.”
Cynthia shook her head. “I will never forget your father. And you and Jackson always have been and always will be my first priority—”
“Doesn’t seem like it,” Anoria grumbled. She twisted the quilt Lisa had made in her hands and clutched it to her chest.
“Just because I’m your mother doesn’t mean I’m not entitled to some happiness too. I’m lonely, sweetheart; I don’t want to be single forever,” Cynthia tried reasoning with her daughter.
She’d hoped to ignite some spark of understanding, but Anoria just huffed dramatically. “Yeah, well, you’re way too old for him. Why can’t you date someone your own age? You’re acting like some kind of cougar, and it’s embarrassing.”
Cynthia drew a sharp breath. “Is that really what you think?”
Sensing blood in the water, Anoria pounced. “I’m not the only one,” she said. “Jackson told me he wants to go back to Washington with me and finish school, partly because of the way you’re acting. And Joyce Drake stopped me in Dove’s the other day to ask what was going on between you and Colby. The whole town knows, Mom.”
Cynthia’s head pounded. She and Colby had had lunch and been horseback riding; it wasn’t like they were in a relationship and acting inappropriately. The sense of shame she’d felt when she was sure the whole town knew of their financial troubles reared up, black and ugly.
Her shoulders drooped. “I’m sorry; I had no idea,” she said quietly. “Please let me talk to Jackson; don’t encourage him one way or the other.”
Anoria didn’t answer.
“Please?” Cynthia begged.
“Fine,” Anoria sighed. “You can talk to him.”
“And I’ll quit seeing Colby,” Cynthia promised. “But ... I still think he’s too old for you,” she added quickly. “I think you’d be happier with someone closer to your age.”
“Well, so would you,” Anoria shot back.
***
“I don’t see what any of this has to do with Anoria.” Colby ran his hand through his hair in frustration. He’d been waiting anxiously for Cynthia’s phone call, but now that it’d come, he wasn’t finding much hope in her words.
“I’m sorry.” Cynthia’s voice sounded raspy, like she’d been crying.
“So does this mean you’re done with me—with us?”
“I don’t see any other choice.”
His heart plummeted. “Of course there’s a choi
ce. Who cares what anyone else says? Why does what they want matter more than what you want?”
“Because that’s how it is when you’re a parent ... at least when you’re a parent of teenagers,” she amended quickly, obviously thinking of Lily. “They’re just starting to date, to meet people ... they’re getting ready to make all these life decisions and I need to be there for them. It’s their turn, not mine.”
“What does that even mean? Why can’t you be there for them and still do what you want, too?” Colby demanded. He jumped up from the chair and paced around the room while Shiloh watched from his bed in the corner.
“I had my turn,” she said feebly.
“Who says you only get one turn?”
“That’s not what I meant, I just ... I’m the mom. I’m supposed to be the strong one, for them.”
“Just because you’re a mother doesn’t mean you’re not a woman,” he argued, hating they were having this conversation over the phone. She’d refused to meet him. “You have needs and desires just like anyone else. Why should that change just because you have kids?”
“You’ll understand when Lily is older,” Cynthia said.
“It’s not mutually exclusive, Cynthia. I can be her dad and still be a person, just like you can be a mom and still be a woman.”
There was a long pause. “I guess I don’t know how to do that.”
“Obviously.” The word came out more harshly than he’d intended and he winced. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to tell you what to do. I just think you can have both. I don’t know why you won’t even try.”
“I’m sorry, Colby.” She sounded near tears. “My kids have already lost their dad. They need me to focus on them right now, okay?”
Chapter 12
The years had passed more quickly than Cynthia could ever have imagined—even those stressful years on the farm and the terrible months of Lee’s illness had gone by in a flash. They’d felt like grinding, aching slowness at the time, but looking back, she could hardly believe they’d even happened. Where had the time gone? Where had she gone? There were times when she’d wake up and for a moment, she was seventeen again, attending classes at Snow Valley High, worried about homework and boys and whether Lisa would let her borrow a sweater.
Spring in Snow Valley: A Snow Valley Anthology Page 20
