by Shannyn Leah
“No.”
Another pause. “Your mom has already hired me for the job.”
“And?”
“I haven’t found anything yet.”
“I need to know what IP address the email was sent from, and I want names. Do you understand? The information comes to me first.”
“Okay, boss.”
Booker thanked him and hung up the phone.
“Did you have a nice night?” Eddie asked, walking to the dining room with a bowl of cereal.
“Yes.”
“You have that girl on speed dial, don’t ya son?” He grinned.
“You’re a dirty old man.”
He waved his hands at him. “I like Cheyenne, for a saucy little Collins girl,” he added. “Grab your grandmother, would you, and let’s eat.”
Chapter Ten
LADDER SHOPPING SOUNDED easy enough. Walk in the hardware store, look at the selection hanging on the far wall, and pick the cheapest or the best looking one. Maybe even the one with the red star that said “Manager’s pick.”
Easy, right?
No.
Cheyenne stood back, arms crossed, the tip of her boot tapping impatiently on the tile floor, waiting for Booker to finish giving the sales clerk another lecture about the next ladder in line. Booker was literally eliminating each ladder in the row as he tried to choose an adequate ladder for his grandfather.
She listened, and acknowledged, Booker’s arguments, and yet, she didn’t understand what the holdup or the debate was all about.
It was a ladder.
There were different lengths and colors. Period. Pick one. If the case of a difficult decision, close your eyes, spin in a circle and point, or play “Ennie meenie miney mo” and boom, done. Cheyenne hadn’t proposed both suggestions with no such luck. Booker’s killer stare had clamped her lips shut for the remainder of their ladder shopping experience.
A grueling, difficult to watch, hour later they were off to pick a tree.
Honestly, could this day stretch out any longer.
“Hungry yet?” Booker asked.
If they stopped for a meal, that would add another half hour, minimum, time spent with Booker. The problem Cheyenne had each time he asked about a meal was that she wanted to say yes.
“No,” she muttered, annoyed her vocabulary today hadn’t been much more than grouchy one-word replies.
Her stomach growled loud enough for Booker to hear. He slanted her a striking, toothy smirk. “Once we drive out of town there are no more restaurants,” he teased.
“I’m fine.” Her stomach made another sound. “I’m fine,” she repeated, lecturing her stomach into silence for the remainder of the trip.
Booker drove them out of town. It was a clear winter’s day and their tires kicked up a thin layer of snow dusting the road.
“I’ve decided to win you back,” Booker said.
Cheyenne’s head whipped around to look at him so quickly, whiplash could have resulted. “What?”
“During the two months I was gone, I learned I find it hard to breathe when you’re not around. My life doesn’t have the same passion as when you’re in it. When I travel, the first person I want to share every spot with, every sight, every really unique small restaurant with, ever awful chicken but strong coffee with, is you.”
Cheyenne stared at him, open-mouthed, stunned by his sudden admission.
He smiled at her then looked back at the road. “Before you walked into my life—”
“You walked into my life,” Cheyenne corrected. “You brought your charming smile, and cocky attitude into the house, helped, joked, laughed and made me fall in—made me like you. Then you walked right back out.”
“I didn’t have my shit together,” he said. “Hell, I still might not, but I know what I want and I want you. I was a mess when I first met you. I mean worse than the disaster Millie and Grandpa have on their front lawn.”
Cheyenne almost smiled at the comparison…almost.
“I didn’t see life anymore or the story behind the picture. I used to crave the story, traveling the world and writing pieces that meant something. Then one day, I woke up and couldn’t see past the lies in the eyes I met. People hide behind so many secrets, waiting for the perfect opportunity to throw you off your game and destroy you.”
He had no idea. Cheyenne had buried her secrets so far down, she sometimes forgot they were there. That was until girls came into the Lilith House fearing for their lives, no money for food, no place to stay and Cheyenne had related to every word, but never shared her life with any of those girls …or with Booker.
“Even my family.” Booker continued as he stared into the winter landscape. “They wear masks that I see through now, ones I’d never noticed before. When I found out Kylie was sleeping with my brother, something inside me snapped. I fell into a pattern of drinking most nights when I couldn’t sleep and most days when I didn’t want to remember. My family lied and hid my situation from their friends and acquaintances. The deeper the cover up, the more cut off I became. Then I met you.” He turned to smile at her again, then back to the road. “This open and free woman. You don’t care how people see you and it’s refreshing. You wear oversized sweaters and ripped jeans. You don’t brush your hair everyday and would give away your supper if it meant someone else got to eat.”
“I brush my hair,” she said.
He shook his head. “Not always. You do that thing where you sort of dig your fingers into your scalp and fluff it or something. Your fingers aren’t a brush.”
“At least I don’t have grey hair.”
“I will let you tell that lie to yourself.”
She gasped and her lips curled into a smile.
“I got spooked when I found out you lied and I know that’s not an excuse, but it’s the truth.” He shook his head. “Your very first smile lit life inside me. You found the side of humanity inside me that I’d thought was lost. I think I fell in love with you that very first day.”
Cheyenne shook her head. Her secrets didn’t begin and end with her abortion. The long weeks leading up to that decision had been daunting, and the weeks that followed terrifying. He could declare his entire life to her, but it didn’t change the fact she wasn’t ready to divulge hers. Especially not right now, with the Lilith House on the line.
“Please stop,” she said.
“Cheyenne…”
She looked away to hide her face from him. He was breaking down her walls and she couldn’t let me him witness her weakness. Her throat tightened, closing in on her.
“How can I fix this? Tell me how to help you fix this. I will do anything, Cheyenne.”
Her stomach heaved. “Pull over.”
“There’s no pulling over—”
“Pull over!” she shouted.
Booker hit the brakes, slowing them to a stop. She heard the four ways click to life as she scrambled out of the truck. She had to shut the door, unable to fit between it and the massive snow hill. She started walking to nowhere in particular but needing space to breathe.
“Cheyenne!” The driver’s door slammed shut. “Where are you going?”
Anywhere. What a fool agreeing to drive out of town with him. Now her walk back into town would freeze her to death. Except she wasn’t walking in the direction of town…
Argh.
She’d turn around if she hadn’t heard him jogging to catch up to her.
“Cheyenne, get back in the truck.”
His footsteps pounded behind her and she spun to face him. “Booker what do you want from me? You can’t just swoop in and out of my life confessing your love, taking it back then delivering it again. That’s not the way things work. My mother does that and, let me tell you, it was never anything but disappointment. I don’t need that in my life. I have spent my entire life trying to get away from this type of drama. If you don’t know what you want, please don’t involve me.”
“I want you.”
“You want a perfect love that does
n’t exist! You say it’s the lies that scare you away, but you’ve walked away from every relationship you’ve ever had.” She lowered her tone. “I understand that Kylie and your brother hurt you, I do, but are you sure it’s the lies you’re afraid of or do you use them as an excuse to keep your distance from people? To keep your heart from getting broken again? If you run first then that person can’t break you. What happens if I say yes? In another two months when we start fighting over closet space—do you run?”
His eyes locked on hers and his jaw clenched. “Let’s go pick out a tree.”
Why did disappointment claim her when he didn’t fight for them? For her? And why did her relief come close to ranking in the same category?
“Okay.”
***
CARS LINED BOTH sides of the lumberyard’s long driveway all the way to the parking lot at the end, but they managed to find a spot. Tree shopping wasn’t everything the lumberyard offered. To the far right, horse-drawn sleigh rides vanished into a snow covered bush. A snow maze weaved behind an ice rink and a band played music on a stage. Signs advertising hot chocolate and meals inside a small log building reminded Cheyenne she hadn’t finished breakfast or touched lunch.
Booker silently headed straight for the trees. He was angry with her, which was better than trying to win her over. As much as they wanted each other, they weren’t meant to be. Her past was a rough path of bumps and ditches and he wanted smooth road to the end. She couldn’t offer that to him, and frankly she didn’t want to. Life was hard. He came from a wealthy family with loving parents and she couldn’t be happier for him, but she came from nothing and wanted to help those in the predicament she’d once been in. That meant messy. Her life would always have ups and downs and she was okay with that. Booker would never be happy stuck in the middle of a mud bath.
He’d turned out to be a tree nut, too. As picky about a tree as he’d been over the ladder, even bringing a measuring tape to measure the length of the branches, which were bundled together anyway so she wondered about his accuracy. Or were his meticulous ways simply his attempt at not talking anymore about them?
“There are so many things to consider when buying a tree,” Booker said, casually, as if they hadn’t just had a blow up on the side of the road. He was more like his parents than he knew. “The width, the height, the branch positioning. Is it full enough or too full?”
“It’s a tree,” Cheyenne said. “I’ll pick one.”
“You can pick as many as you want but we’re only taking one home.”
He made comments about Millie’s ceiling being the same height as Eddie’s and considered out loud whether to put it in front of Millie’s window, giving more space for longer branches, but contemplating if she were anything like Eddie she would grumble about losing her window.
Cheyenne gave general answers. “Sure. Okay. If you think so.” Anything to rush along the process.
“I’ll find our perfect tree.” He looked so proud among the mass of spruce trees.
Our tree.
There had been a time when she would have liked the sound of that.
“You have fun with that,” Cheyenne called. “I’m going to get a coffee.”
***
BOOKER WANTED TO chop the tree down himself. He needed some way to vent out his frustrations and an axe and tree sounded like the perfect solution. Unfortunately, they were all pre-cut, leaving him to simply lift, carry and hoist into the back of the truck. There was more work involved with strapping it in place, and when he’d finished, he was more pumped than before.
He headed to the food building to find Cheyenne. She’d pretty much called him a scared baby. She’d been right, though. Normally he would deny her accusation, and then never talk to her again. But not talking to Cheyenne didn’t play into his plans. She’d tried to scare him away, make him run in the other direction. With any other woman, he would have done just that. But Cheyenne wasn’t any other woman, she was his other half, his soulmate, the ying to his yang. Now he sounded like some cliché romance movie, but it didn’t change the fact he loved her. Loved her. And he would do anything to prove it to her.
He marched inside the building, scoping the seats. He found Cheyenne as far away from human civilization as she could get without being on another planet. He marched straight over to her.
“I poured my heart out to you,” he said. “I’ve never done that with another woman in my life, not even Kylie, but I laid it all out there for you. My heart, my soul, my fears and what I want and you know what you did?” He arched his eyebrows.
Cheyenne’s shoulder rose slightly in a shrug.
“You squashed me like an ant. Dug your big mean foot into everything I said in an attempt to destroy it like an ant hill.”
She grabbed his hand. “Would you sit down, please? You’re attracting attention.”
He pulled her up instead and against him until their noses touched. “I don’t think I was clear enough in the truck. I love you, Cheyenne Collins. I don’t care if you give me a drawer in our closet— I’m not going anywhere.” He covered her mouth with his. The kiss was sweet, but short and, when he pulled away, she was breathless. “I will build that damn hill up as many times as I have to until you realize I am not going anywhere.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the building. “But right now I want to go on a sleigh ride with you and I’ll be damned if you try to say no.”
Chapter Eleven
CHEYENNE WALKED THROUGH the front door of Millie’s house with a silly, happy grin on her face. Booker had confessed his love to her and had stuck around for her reply. Although she hadn’t verbally responded, she hadn’t told him no to the sleigh ride, or passed on the four times they’d lost their way in the maze. Deep down, she knew she loved him, too, but she didn’t know where to go from here.
Shrugging off her coat, she turned to hang it on the hook, but instead of seeing her reflection in the mirror hanging above the bench she came face to face with Booker through a huge hole in the wall. Booker’s surprised face must have mimicked her own.
He cursed at the sight, his eyes traveling around the hollowed out wall big enough for two people to step through, down to the drywall and wood crumbled and piled on the floor.
What had happened? Why was there a giant hole between their houses?
A sledge hammer rested against the stairs…on Millie’s side of the house.
Grandma!
“I came home to this,” Lily said from the living room sofa. She lay stretched out with her headphones pulled down around her neck, and an iPad in her hands.
“What the hell happened?” Booker roared, causing Cheyenne to jump around and face him again. Leaving his boots on, he stepped wet snow across the powdered rubble and over to their side of the house.
“I couldn’t get an answer from them.” Lily shrugged.
Them? Millie and Eddie? What were they thinking? Where were they?
A shouting war erupted from Millie’s kitchen and Cheyenne recognized both voices right away.
“They’ve been at it for an hour,” Lily said.
“Why aren’t you refereeing?” Booker growled. “You can’t leave them together alone. They will tear each other apart.” He started towards the kitchen. “I mean, hell, they tore a damn wall down.”
“I’m not getting in the middle of that,” Lily said, making faces at the door. “I’m sorry. I live here all year around with these two and this is my limit.”
The shouting rose and she slipped her headphones back on, waving a hand for them to continue. Great help she was.
Cheyenne rolled her eyes, chasing after Booker and catching up as he pushed open the kitchen door.
Lily had likely initiated the smashed wall. Probably handed Millie the hammer and now didn’t want to own up to the responsibility to follow.
Cold spells of fear trickled through Cheyenne, at what possible disasters may lie on the other side of the door. Eddie shouted about bad baking and Millie had told to shut his hole.
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Good Lord.
Booker stopped in the doorway and Cheyenne ran straight into his back. Good Lord, he was a solid rock she wanted to spend the afternoon climbing. Pass over her climbing gear, this rock was asking for it.
But Booker didn’t move and an alarm of fear shot through her.
“What?” she cried.
It couldn’t be that bad. Oh my god what did these two do? Possible images flaunted her mind. A make shift boxing ring with Eddie and Millie using oven mitts as boxing gloves and the egg timer as a commence bell. Or had they gone completely mad and were throwing her baked goods like outdoor snowballs?
Cheyenne wedged the upper part of her body between Booker and the doorframe, cramming her head through enough to see what had stopped Booker cold.
What Cheyenne hadn’t expected was her poor, innocent eyes to come straight in view of a full moon…and not the moon outside.
“Grandpa!” Booker shouted, choking out the word.
Eddie spun his bare ass around and, thankfully, a full-length apron covered his front.
Cheyenne tried her hardest to pull away from the print below his waist, green foliage with bright red berries.
This was not right.
“What the hell are you doing?” Booker demanded. He finally moved enough to let Cheyenne fit beside him and both of them wedged in the doorway. She wasn’t sure she wanted access anymore.
She heard her niece snicker behind them and knew she was fully aware of whatever this was occurring in the kitchen and she’d let her and Booker walk in blind-sided for a good view.
“I’m baking apple crumble.” Cheyenne hadn’t even noticed her grandma by the counter until she spoke.
“Grandma!” Her arms were bare. Her shoulders were bare. Her legs were bare.
Oh God, she was naked, too. Why? Why was she naked? Why were they naked? Together? Baking in the kitchen?
Cheyenne couldn’t decipher a straight thought, staring at the two of them casually baking…naked.
“Why are you…naked?” Booker asked, his voice sounding strangled.
