Silver White Winters

by Candice Sue Patterson

  Lane scrubbed the towel over his wet hair and then tossed it on the bedroom floor. He yanked a T-shirt from his drawer and wrestled into it on his way to the kitchen. As he poured a cup of coffee, he thought over the night before, seeing the girl he’d known and loved for so many years broken, weary, troubled. The spunky fireball with enough sass for three women was gone. Other than her physical beauty, which had matured and sent him reeling a hundred times last night, he didn’t recognize Rae anymore. And though that might help him keep a safe distance, it gnawed on him at the same time.

  He crossed the living room, mug in hand, and reached for the hooded sweatshirt he’d thrown over the back of the couch.

  A knock rapped on his front door. Eight o’clock was a little early for visitors.

  He opened the door and the air whooshed from his lungs. Rae stood on the straw welcome mat, holding his coat, having the nerve to make his heart beat out of his chest. Shock made him lean against the doorframe.

  “Hey, Lane.”

  “Rae.”

  Her soft, tentative voice made his sound gruff. This sure wasn’t how he’d pictured her seeing his home for the first time. In his version, he scooped her up and battled all that puffy, white satin over the threshold to the bed they’d share.

  Rae bit her lower lip, working her throat, drawing his attention to the dip between her collarbones.

  Lane wadded the sweatshirt in his fist while she fiddled with a button on her denim jacket. The western dress and boots she was wearing were too fancy for running errands around here.

  She held out his coat. “You forgot this last night. Thought you might need it.”

  It wasn’t until she looked down at his bare feet that Lane noticed the chill. He took his coat. “Thanks.”

  He’d never pictured her as a blonde, but he liked the gold strands breaking through the dark, bringing out the gold in her brown eyes. Lane clamped his jaw. The thought made him want to punch a hole in the wall.

  Rae shuffled her feet on the mat.

  He should use the manners his mama taught him and invite her in. It was difficult when all he wanted was to slam the door in her face. The way she’d done with his heart. He knew if she stepped into this house, he’d never look at it again without seeing her in it. “Is that all?”

  Rae nodded. “No.”

  He raised one brow. “Which is it?”

  She seemed to shrink as she raised her chin and arrested him with regretful eyes. He glimpsed the seven year old girl she’d been the first time they met. “I owe you an apology.”

  Wow. Her words sobered him faster than a right hook to his jaw.

  She shivered and the manners he tried to forget took over. Man, he’d live to regret this. Lane opened the door wide and gestured for her to come in.

  She moved past him.

  Her perfume whipped his head around. Have mercy, what was she wearing? Lane kicked the door shut, threw his coat on the couch, and concentrated on putting on his sweatshirt. He refused to think about how good she smelled. He buried his hands in the shirt pocket, defending his ego against the admiration on Rae’s face.

  She placed a hand over her heart. “You actually did it. The place is beautiful.”

  Her tone was way too breathy to keep his sanity intact. “I told you I would.”

  “I just didn’t think you’d go through with it after…” Rae turned away.

  He almost said, “After you broke up with me in a letter and ripped out my heart to become famous?” But that would sound too girlie, so he grunted instead.

  Rae clasped her hands in front of her. “I’m sorry for how I left things.”

  Words Lane never thought he’d hear. He sagged his hip against the couch.

  Her waterworks started, but she kept her focus on him. “You didn’t deserve what I gave you. Not after our history together. I know an apology will never be enough, but I am sorry.”

  All this time, he thought he needed an apology, wanted to see her wallow in regret to repair the damage to his pride. He’d been wrong. It didn’t make him feel better at all. He deepened his voice, abandoning all sarcasm. “You got your sold-out crowds, the lights, the big stage. Everything you always wanted.”

  Her boots clacked against the wood floor as she stepped closer and put her hand on his chest. The tiny thing branded him through all his layers. “None of it matters when you’ve lost your best friend.”

  Friend? Lane’s pulse throbbed in his neck. He should take her in his arms and show her exactly what she’d given up. But it was too late. Even if a second chance wasn’t the craziest thing in the world, he no longer had anything to offer outside of friendship. To any woman. If he hadn’t been enough for Rae then, he certainly wouldn’t be enough for her now.

  Tears slipped down her cheek. She stared at her hand pressed against him and frowned. “Goodbye, Lane,” she whispered. Rae inhaled a shaky breath, retracted her hand, and then disappeared out the door.

  His chest was cold where her touch had been. The house was already too quiet.

  Life—his life anyway—was difficult enough. Chances were, he’d never see old age. Did he really want to waste precious energy dragging a grudge behind him? His legs moved to the door of their own accord, which wasn’t far out of the norm these days. But today it had nothing to do with his MS. He yanked open the door and bounded across the porch, stopping at the steps when he remembered he was barefoot. He was a complete and total idiot. “Where you takin’ off to so soon?”

  6

  Raelynn’s heart skipped at his question.

  Lane waited at the edge of his porch in a brown hooded sweatshirt, arms wide, barefoot in a pair of worn jeans that fit him just right. “I haven’t given you the grand tour.”

  His dark hair stood in tufts, and she longed to run her fingers through the mess. But those days were over. This was probably as close to forgiveness as she was going to get. She’d take it. “I’d like that.” Raelynn dropped her hand from the vehicle and joined him on the porch.

  Lane stared at her with a tortured mix of awe and sadness. He looked as vulnerable as the little boy in first grade she’d found sitting by himself on the playground. His daddy had passed away from black lung disease a week earlier. Raelynn had sat beside Lane and reached for his hand, unable to think of anything sadder than losing a daddy. He didn’t pull away. They remained silent for what seemed like hours. Right before the recess bell, she took a candy bar from her pocket, the one she’d bought with her birthday money on her walk to school, and gave it to Lane. They’d been best friends ever since.

  Around tenth grade, when her curves developed and Lane’s braces came off, their friendship blossomed into romance. Soul-mates but never lovers. She’d been careful on that account. Not necessarily because she was a good girl. No, it was from fear that the consequences would trap her in these mountains forever.

  On graduation night, Lane proposed and she accepted. At the time, Raelynn envisioned them on the road together, having one adventure after another. But Lane had no desire to leave Eve Hollow. She could hear his voice echoing through the covered bridge even now. “Eve was the giver of life,” he’d said. “Everything we need is in these hills. I’ll work hard and buy that old train depot you love. We’ll turn it into a home. Together we’ll have a life, make life…” And then he’d kissed her with a passion that made her dizzy. But the instant he’d pulled away and her thoughts cleared, she couldn’t go through with his plans.

  Lane had gone on with them anyway, just not with her.

  Taking in the old depot now—Lane—everything had changed in the last twelve years, yet nothing had. “How much do you charge to tour this historical landmark?”

  “Depends. How much you got?”

  According to sales of her last album, not much. “I might have some pocket change.”

  Lane tucked his hands in his sweatshirt pocket. “You could pay me in song.” His Adam’s apple dipped, and his voice was deeper than usual.

  She wanted to curl
up in the warmth it offered. It had been so long since anyone had requested a song from her. Jay didn’t count, since his success depended on hers. Raelynn searched Lane’s face. What song would he request?

  Before she could respond, he guided her inside, hand pressed against the small of her back. The gesture sparked hope inside her chest. Though they could never go back, maybe they could rekindle some semblance of their friendship.

  “The place is a mess.” Lane closed the door behind them. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

  Raelynn grinned at the pile of socks beside the couch and three soda cans on the coffee table. “You never were the tidiest person.”

  “Who used to leave empty cups and food wrappers in my truck?”

  “Touché.” She stepped further into the room. “Speaking of, I was surprised to see it parked in the driveway when I pulled in. The thing has to be a classic by now.”

  He shrugged. “She may not look like much, but she runs good. I decided to sink my money into the house instead of new wheels.”

  Raelynn followed the streams of natural light that spilled from the transom windows and poured over the restored crown molding, hand-hewn beams, and wood-plank floor. “I’m impressed, Lane. It’s better than I ever imagined.”

  He turned away. “Come on, I’ll show you the rest.”

  Lane walked her through the east end, pointing at the old passenger area he’d converted to a bedroom. The gray sheets were rumpled, and dirty clothes littered the floor. The next stop was the bathroom, still humid from his shower.

  Raelynn inhaled the scent of him, a tantalizing mix of piney mountain air, earth, and man.

  The kitchen was simple with natural wood cabinets against the backdrop of neutral colored walls. A coffee pot with fresh brew rested on the counter next to a toaster. One end of the counter still held the metal bars of the old ticket booth. Other than the refrigerator, stove, and dirty dishes in the sink, the room was bare. The place screamed for a woman’s touch.

  Lane needed a woman’s touch, too. Someone to care for him, greet him when he returned from work. Be his sunshine. She bet every single woman in Pocahontas County had done their best to fill that role, and she’d thrown it away. If only she could have it back.

  An ache settled in her gut as she pictured those faceless women. Why hadn’t he ever married? It certainly wasn’t for lack of looks or charm. She studied his strong profile, prepared to ask who the blonde was that night at the mines, sobbing by his gurney. Raelynn swallowed the words as his gaze trained out the window and his forehead knotted, enhancing faint lines around his eyes.

  She craned her neck to see what captured his attention. A breathtaking view of Coal Mountain. He’d planned a life together in this abandoned station for that very scene, promising to put a sink in front of that window, so she could look at the landscape while she washed the dishes.

  Lane Ryan kept his promises.

  He scratched his jaw. “A few more years and this view will be completely different.”

  A gunmetal cloud hovered over the mountain, fresh from this morning’s blast. “I saw the explosion today. Felt it.”

  He looked at her. “The next time you come home that mountain may not be here.”

  Raelynn knew Lane wasn’t referring to his house as home, but her belly filled with longing all the same. If she’d have stayed and married as they’d planned, would they be happy? Would her heart feel complete, satisfied?

  As if Lane sensed where her thoughts had drifted, he headed for the hallway. “One more stop.”

  Smiling at the irony, she followed.

  Lane opened the door to another bedroom and she stepped inside. A rattle shook at her feet, and she shrieked at the snake coiled not two feet away. She jumped into Lane’s arms.

  A deep rumble vibrated his chest. His strong arms pressed her against him. “That little booger.”

  “What’s so funny?” She trembled, not sure if she should hit him or melt against him. She chose the latter.

  “My nephew. This is his room when he stays with me. He got the snake for Christmas. It’s motion activated, meant for a good scare.” His laughter continued. “It worked. You should see your face right now.”

  Embarrassment filled her cheeks. She swatted his chest. “You know I’m terrified of snakes.”

  Superheroes watched from the posters on the walls. Toys littered the carpet.

  She felt silly, and for the first time since she arrived in the hollow, a genuine smile touched her lips. She threw her head back and laughed too.

  Their eyes locked. Lane’s smile sobered. His arms tightened around her waist. She leaned closer and he let go as if she’d burned him. “That’s the end of the tour.”

  Her head swam. “I…should go.”

  Lane nodded, staring toward the other end of the house.

  Cloaked in stinging rejection she deserved, Raelynn walked to the front door. Cool air brushed her skin as her feet hit the porch. The soothing melody that had been chasing her the last two days whispered in her ear. She paused. Wrapping her hand around a porch post, Raelynn drank in the landscape. It hit her with sudden clarity. All the notes, the songs—they’d come from these mountains, the birds, the trees. Her ancestors. Her heritage. She’d forgotten her roots, therefore breaking the tie to her heart, severing her ability to write music.

  “You OK?”

  She turned to find Lane standing in the doorway, hands in his pockets.

  “Keep fightin’ for that mountain, Lane.” She smiled, though she knew it betrayed the grief in her heart. “See you around.” She descended the porch steps and strode to her car.

  “If you’re not busy tomorrow, there’s a place I’d like to show you.”

  Raelynn was grateful he couldn’t see the stupid grin on her face. She forced her lips into a straight line and looked over her shoulder. “What time?”

  “Six.”

  “In the morning?”

  “Is that too early for you, princess?”

  “Nope. I’ll even be early.”

  ~*~

  “Early, huh?” Lane crossed his arms. He’d known better.

  Rae bobbed her shoulders, giving him a shy grin. Like there was anything bashful about the woman. “I slept better last night than I have in months. I had trouble getting up.”

  Her skin glowed under the porch light. Was she really here? Because a part of him couldn’t shake the notion he’d dreamt her ghostly memory and was playing out some kind of fantasy. Either way she was standing in front of him, tormenting him with her sleepy, seductive eyes. He should be shot and thrown in the nearest ravine. “At least you dressed warm.” He threw the door open wider and walked to the kitchen.

  “Why? Where are we going?” The door closed and her footsteps followed him.

  Lane grabbed the thermos of coffee off the counter. “You’ll see.” His twisting gut told him this was a bad idea, but his pathetic heart smothered the warning. If the day went the way he prayed it would, she’d use her God-given talent for the good of others for a change. And that’s all this outing was meant to accomplish.

  Rae glanced around, a saucy grin lifting her cheeks. “You cleaned.”

  Lane scratched his jaw. “Safety precaution. Didn’t want to chance any snake bites.”

  Her eyes narrowed to slits.

  “We better get going.” Lane led the way to a small shed behind the house. He propped open the doors, started the four-wheeler, and backed it onto the grass. “Let’s go.”

  “It’s still dark.”

  “When did you start being afraid of the dark?” He flipped on the headlights.

  “But…” She stammered, looking at the empty space behind him.

  “What’s wrong? Did you leave your sense of adventure on the road somewhere? The Rae I knew wasn’t afraid of anything.”

  Except a life with him.

  If she had feathers, they’d be standing on end. “I’m not afraid.” Rae pinched her lips together and climbed on behind him. “We’re
not doing anything illegal are we?”

  “Yep.” Lane revved the engine. “Better hold on.”

  The four-wheeler lurched forward. She squealed and fastened her arms around his waist. Through the biting wind and his layers of warmth, Lane felt her touch in every nerve-ending in his body. A good sign that today was a good day. Not just because he’d spend it with Rae, but because his body was feeling and responding, however long that would last.

  As they drove the dirt path toward the mountain, Rae nuzzled her face in his back to block the wind. He stifled the urge to abort his mission, pull over, and really keep her warm. Don’t be a sap, Ryan. She might be here now, but you don’t live on the same planet.

  He dodged the “No Trespassing” sign and steered up the incline. It was nearing six-thirty, and when they’d reach the top, the sun would peek over the horizon and give them a perfect view.

  Mammoth earth-moving machines waited for the first-shift operators. Kessler employees clocked in promptly at seven, so Lane would have to make his point quickly.

  They passed a thicket of trees where a small group of activists had camped over the summer, living in tent-like hammocks for twelve days straight until a lightning storm forced them out.

  Kessler had pressed charges against them for halting coal production.

  The last Lane heard, the incident had caught the attention of a government official. Negative or positive, he wasn’t sure.

  Lane parked at the edge of the mountain in the shadow of a fifty-foot crane and killed the engine. Below, he spotted the steeple of Eve Hollow Community Church.

  “Where are we?” Rae lifted her head, but made no attempt to remove her arms.

  “The scene of the crime.”

  He took in the landscape, nothing but dull gray, void of trees and wildlife, pure destruction of God’s creation. He twisted in his seat to gauge her reaction.

  Rae studied the level ground, a mixture of rock bed and coal that’d been blown to pebbles. Her forehead knotted between her brows.

  Next he drove them to an even more restricted area, the sludge pond—a lake of toxic chemicals caused from cleaning the coal before shipping. “If that levee breaks, all that will ooze down the mountain into our water supply. It’s happened in other towns from other Kessler plants, and innocent bystanders paid with their lives.”