Cross-Ties

by Bonnie Bryant

  Cross-Ties

  Pine Hollow, Book Eleven

  Bonnie Bryant

  My special thanks to Catherine Hapka for her help

  in the writing of this book.

  ONE

  “Wait, Mom.” Lisa Atwood glanced over her shoulder and spotted her mother struggling to lift a heavy garment bag out of the trunk. “Let me get that.”

  Lisa dropped her overstuffed carry-on suitcase on the sidewalk of the airport unloading zone and hurried toward the car. She grabbed the garment bag from her mother and, with some effort, managed to drag it over the lip of the trunk. Then, using both hands, she yanked it onto the sidewalk and leaned it against her carry-on bag.

  “Thank you, dear,” Mrs. Atwood said breathlessly. She reached into the trunk for the last bag, a small cosmetics case, and carried it over to the pile of luggage. “Now, wait here a moment while I take the car over to the short-term lot.”

  Dodging a family with several screaming toddlers and praying they weren’t on her flight, Lisa slammed the trunk and joined her mother on the sidewalk. “I told you, Mom,” she said as patiently as she could manage. “You really don’t have to wait with me. I’m seventeen, not seven, remember? It’s not like I’ve never flown by myself before.”

  “Nonsense.” Mrs. Atwood waved one hand briskly in the air, then headed toward the car. “Now, I won’t be a moment.”

  Lisa sighed, knowing it was useless to argue. When her mother’s mind was made up, there was usually no changing it. “All right,” she called as Mrs. Atwood opened the driver’s door. “But I’m going to get in line for my boarding pass. I’ll meet you there, okay?”

  Her mother gave another little wave, which Lisa took as assent. Glancing around as the car pulled away from the curb, Lisa soon spotted a line of metal carts that passengers could rent to transport their luggage inside. Looping the strap of her cosmetics bag over one arm and hoisting the carry-on over the other shoulder, she grabbed the handle of the garment bag and began to drag her unwieldy pile of luggage in the direction of the carts.

  Whew, she thought, feeling beads of sweat spring to her forehead despite the cool November morning air. Next time I let Mom help me pack, I’d better remember to borrow a horse or two from Pine Hollow to help me carry the load. She smiled at the thought of asking Max Regnery, her longtime riding instructor and the owner of Pine Hollow Stables, to allow one of his finest riding horses—say, Topside or Calypso—to come to the airport and act as Lisa’s personal pack mule.

  The strap of Lisa’s carry-on bag was slipping down her arm. She shoved it back up onto her shoulder and took another few steps toward the row of carts, then lost her grip on her cosmetics case. She groaned and leaned over to pick it up.

  “Need some help?” a male voice asked.

  Lisa looked up to see a middle-aged man in a business suit gazing at her with concern. “Oh, no,” she gasped politely. “I’m fine, thanks.”

  At that moment, the strap of her carry-on bag slipped off her shoulder again and the bag tumbled to the ground. Lisa lost her balance for a moment and loosened her grip on the cosmetics case, which also slipped out of her grasp and settled with a bounce at the man’s feet.

  He smiled sympathetically. “Don’t kill yourself. Why don’t you wait here while I fetch you a cart?”

  “Um, thanks,” Lisa said, her face red. “That would be great.” Digging into the pocket of her jeans, she pulled out a handful of quarters. Her mother never let her go anywhere without enough emergency phone change to last a year.

  The man accepted several quarters for the cart rental and strode off. He returned a moment later, pushing one of the carts. Despite Lisa’s protests, he helped her pile her bags onto the cart.

  “I could manage, really. I mean, I don’t want to make you late or anything,” she said anxiously as he balanced her cosmetics bag in the top basket of the cart.

  “No worries. I have plenty of time.” The man glanced at her. “Besides, I have a daughter just about your age,” he added. “What kind of father would I be if I ignored another young lady in distress?”

  Lisa smiled. His words made her thoughts flash to her own father, far away in California. “Well, thank you very much,” she told the man. “I really appreciate it.”

  “You’re welcome.” The man gave her a kind smile, his gray eyes twinkling. “Have a nice flight.”

  “You too.” Lisa sent the man a little wave as he hurried off; then she grabbed the handle of the cart. After a quick glance up to make sure she was in the right area, she headed inside through the automatic glass doors. The airport was crowded, which Lisa supposed wasn’t too surprising. It was the Saturday before Thanksgiving, and she was sure that many people, like her, had the week off from school or work and were traveling to be with their families.

  Or half their family, in my case, she thought, shoving at the cart to push it over a bump in the floor. Just one more super-thrilling thing about coming from a broken home—figuring out where to spend the holidays.

  She soon found the way to the line she needed and parked her luggage behind a group of girls just a couple of years older than she. They were dressed casually in jeans and sweatshirts, backpacks strapped onto their backs or duffel bags slung over their shoulders as they chatted eagerly. Lisa caught the words midterms and roommate as she zipped open her purse and fished out her tickets.

  College girls, Lisa thought, the idea giving her a thrill and causing an anxious shudder at the same time.

  She gulped as she remembered what lay ahead of her in California—a whole lot of discussion about her own college future. Just about everyone she knew had been shocked when she had decided to send her acceptance in early to Northern Virginia University, especially since she hadn’t told anyone until after it was done. Her parents, especially, were convinced that she had been impulsive.

  Pretty ironic, really, Lisa thought, shoving her cart forward a few feet as the line moved. Trying to convince me I’m totally screwing up my life is just about the only thing Mom and Dad have been able to agree on since the divorce.

  Just as Lisa inched her way to the front of the line, her mother returned from parking the car. “Yoo-hoo!” she called cheerfully, weaving her way past people and luggage and waving her arms at Lisa like some kind of demented windmill.

  Lisa winced, wondering if there was any way she could pretend not to see her mother. For the umpteenth time, she wished she’d tried a little harder to convince her mother that she could drive herself to the airport. But Mrs. Atwood had been cheerfully insistent on driving her. She claimed she only wanted to save Lisa the money she would have spent on long-term parking fees, but Lisa suspected that wasn’t the whole story. Mrs. Atwood had taken her divorce pretty hard for a long time, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that she still wasn’t comfortable having Lisa fly off to spend time with her father and his new family in California—especially for Thanksgiving.

  “Whew!” Mrs. Atwood exclaimed loudly, fanning herself with her pocketbook as she joined Lisa in line. “It certainly is crowded here today. Why, you’d think there was a holiday coming up or something!”

  She giggled at her own wit, glancing around to see if anyone else had heard her. Forcing herself to smile at the lame joke, Lisa pushed her cart forward as the college girls hurried toward the next available ticket agent. “It’s almost my turn,” she commented blandly.

  “Hmmm.” Mrs. Atwood checked her watch. “Well, don’t worry, dear. You have plenty of time before they’ll start boarding.”

  At that moment one of the people at the counter gestured for Lisa to step forward. Before long she was checked in, boarding pass in hand and heavy garment bag on its way to the cargo hold.

  “Okay,” Lisa said, slinging her carry-on bag over h
er shoulder and glancing at her boarding pass. “I’d better head to my gate. You can take off if you want, Mom. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do today than hang around the airport.”

  Mrs. Atwood picked up Lisa’s cosmetics case and followed her daughter away from the check-in counter. “Nonsense. I’ll stay and keep you company until it’s time to board. I have the whole day off today, and Rafe is working until six.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Lisa cringed slightly at the mention of her mother’s boyfriend. Rafe was a twenty-five-year-old college student who worked at the clothing store where Mrs. Atwood was an assistant manager, and he wasn’t exactly one of Lisa’s favorite people. She was glad that her mother was finally coming out of her depression over the divorce, but she wished she’d found somebody a little closer to her own age to help her do it.

  As they walked through the busy airport toward Lisa’s gate, Mrs. Atwood continued to chatter on about her plans with Rafe for that week. “… and then we both have to work on Black Friday, of course—that’s the day after Thanksgiving,” she explained cheerfully. “It’s the busiest shopping day of the year, you know.”

  “Mmm.” Lisa searched her mind for some way to change the subject. “Hey, Mom, speaking of shopping, what do you want for Christmas? They have some pretty cool stores out in L.A., and I—”

  “Oh, whatever, dear.” Mrs. Atwood waved one hand. “I always love the things you pick out for me, you know that.” She giggled. “Now, Rafe, on the other hand … Did I tell you about the blouse he tried to talk me into buying last week? What a heart attack!”

  “Yes, you told me about that,” Lisa said, shifting her carry-on to her other shoulder and checking the number of the gate they were passing.

  “Of course, his heart’s in the right place, you know.” Mrs. Atwood sighed happily and patted her hair. “He even offered to bring dessert on Thursday. Isn’t that wonderful?”

  “Sure.” Lisa sighed, resigning herself to yet another long conversation about Rafe the Wonder Boy.

  Ugh, she thought. I really thought Mom would be tired of that long-haired goofball by now. But she just gets more and more into him every day. What’s that about?

  She had no idea. As far as she could tell, Rafe’s only real selling point was his appearance. She was sure that a lot of women would find his wavy dark hair and chocolate brown eyes appealing—at least until they actually spoke to him and discovered how lazy, self-satisfied, and generally vapid he really was.

  Still, I guess I should be grateful to Rafe, Lisa reminded herself as she and her mother reached the right gate and found seats near the window overlooking the tarmac. Glancing outside, she saw that her plane was just taxiing toward the gate. If Mom didn’t have him to hang out with this week, she’d probably spend the whole time brooding over how I’m off in sunny California with the guy who ruined her life. Or better yet, figuring out new and improved ways to tell me that I’m ruining my life by going to NVU next year.

  She considered it something of a miracle that her mother’s snippy comments about her choice of school had tapered off in the past few days. Then again, maybe she was kidding herself.

  She probably just figures Dad will take care of it, Lisa thought. That’s how she dealt with a lot of the really sticky stuff when they were married. And maybe not much has changed, at least when it comes to problems concerning me.

  As if reading her mind, Mrs. Atwood suddenly interrupted her own description of Rafe’s new college seminar and turned to gaze at Lisa seriously. “By the way, Lisa, I don’t want you to think that just because Rafe is so happy at NVU, I think it’s the right school for you. I do hope your father can make you understand how serious this college business is.” Mrs. Atwood frowned slightly. “If there’s one thing he’s good at, after all, it’s reminding one of the harsh realities.”

  Gritting her teeth, Lisa forced herself to let the comment pass. Soon she would be boarding her flight, and then she wouldn’t have to listen to her mother’s comments about her college choice—or Rafe—for a whole week. Of course, after a couple of days of listening to her father’s comments, she might be longing for tales of good old Rafe.…

  I suppose I should look on the bright side, she thought. It’s not as if anyone else is off on some great, wonderful, perfect Thanksgiving vacation this year.

  She shook her head sympathetically as she remembered that her two best friends and her boyfriend were all grounded. Stevie Lake and her twin brother, Alex, who was also Lisa’s boyfriend of ten months, had thrown a party when their parents weren’t home. There had been drinking at the party, and, needless to say, Mr. and Mrs. Lake hadn’t been pleased when they got a call from the police after neighbors complained about the noise. They also weren’t pleased when they arrived home and discovered that the partyers had made a shambles of their house. That had all happened a month earlier, and Stevie and Alex were still grounded, with no idea when they would be free again. The punishment hadn’t been easy on Lisa and Alex’s relationship, especially since they’d been having a few problems before that.

  Carole Hanson hadn’t had anything to drink at the party, which wasn’t too surprising. Lisa had always thought that her friend was eminently sensible and also possessed a sweet, almost childlike quality that sometimes made her seem much younger than her seventeen years. However, Carole had managed to get herself into deep trouble in another way. She had cheated on a test at school. Lisa sort of understood why Carole had done it—if her grade had slipped, she would have lost her riding privileges—but she still couldn’t quite believe that honest, earnest Carole could actually stoop to cheating. Colonel Hanson, Carole’s widowered father, had been equally shocked and had grounded Carole until New Year’s, even banning her from the stable.

  Oh, well, Lisa thought, feeling a bit depressed at the image of all her friends moping around at home during their Thanksgiving break. Maybe at least Scott and Callie will have a nice time on their trip. Too bad they’re not going to the same part of the West Coast as I am. I have a feeling I’ll be needing some moral support before the week is out.

  She was a little surprised to catch herself having that thought. When Scott and Callie Forester had moved to Willow Creek, Virginia, the summer before, Lisa and Callie hadn’t hit it off that well. Callie’s older brother, Scott, was easier to warm up to. Like his congressman father, Scott had a real knack for connecting with people, and Lisa had felt comfortable with him right away. But these days, she thought of Callie as a real friend, too.

  At her elbow, she sensed her mother fidgeting. A second later, Mrs. Atwood put a hand on Lisa’s arm. “Will you be all right for a moment, dear?” she asked. “I’m going off in search of some coffee. Rafe and I were out pretty late last night.”

  Lisa willed herself not to cringe at that. Instead, she smiled calmly. “Sure, Mom. I’ll be fine.”

  “Can I bring you anything?” Mrs. Atwood said, standing. “The food on your flight will probably be terrible.”

  “It’s okay,” Lisa replied. “I’m not very hungry.”

  As her mother hurried off in the direction of the nearest snack bar, Lisa returned her gaze to the window and her thoughts to her friends. Because of the grounding, she’d barely had a chance to say good-bye to Alex before leaving. The afternoon before, they’d managed to meet on the way home from their respective schools—Alex, like Stevie, Callie, and Scott, attended a private school called Fenton Hall—and spend a few moments together. But the all-too-brief meeting had been a little tense and awkward. Lisa could sense that Alex was unhappy about her going to California, as he always was, because it meant they would be apart. And then, of course, there was Skye.…

  I told him Skye wasn’t going to be around this visit, she thought, staring at a small plane taxiing past outside.

  But she wasn’t really seeing the plane. She was seeing Skye Ransom’s handsome face that sunny California afternoon the previous summer when the actor had hinted that he wished they could be more than friends.

&nb
sp; Even thinking about that conversation made her feel a little disloyal to Alex. That’s ridiculous, she thought, irritated. I made it clear to Skye then that it wasn’t going to happen. And he was fine with that. I mean, he’s been my friend for years. I’ve told Alex that over and over.

  She sighed, her anger passing as quickly as it had come. She wasn’t even sure whom she was annoyed with, anyway—Alex for being jealous of her friendship with the handsome actor, or herself for letting his jealousy get to her.

  She decided it didn’t matter one way or the other. She’d spoken to Skye on the phone a couple of days earlier and discovered that he was just on his way out of town on a publicity jaunt for his television show, Paradise Ranch. He would be touring towns and cities all over the United States right through the Thanksgiving holiday. Lisa was disappointed that she wouldn’t get to see him, but she guessed it was just as well. It would be nice not to have to deal with that particular issue when she returned home to Alex.

  Mrs. Atwood came back with her coffee just as the gate attendants announced that Lisa’s plane was ready to begin boarding. “Oh, my,” Mrs. Atwood said, looking flustered. “But we didn’t even get a chance to talk.”

  “We’ll talk when I get back, Mom,” Lisa said. To herself she added, Probably about how dreamy Rafe is, as usual. And how handsome he looked carving the turkey. Major ick!

  “All right, sweetie.” Mrs. Atwood set down her coffee and wrapped Lisa in a tight hug, then bent to gather up her things. “Here, I’ll help you carry.”

  “It’s okay, I’ve got it,” Lisa insisted, trying to grab her cosmetics case from her mother’s grasp. She was relieved when she turned the corner of the boarding gate and headed for the plane’s door.

  At least Mom can’t follow me any farther, she thought, glancing over her shoulder as if to make sure her mother wasn’t hurrying up the ramp after her.

  Soon she was making her way down the narrow aisle of the plane, looking for row twenty-seven. The plane was crowded, but when Lisa found her row, she discovered she was the first to arrive. She pulled a magazine out of her carry-on, then stowed the bag in the overhead compartment and took her place by the window.