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When Snow Falls (Whiskey Creek, 2) - Softcover

Buch 2 von 10: Whiskey Creek

Novak, Brenda

 
9780778313717: When Snow Falls (Whiskey Creek, 2)
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0778313719 ISBN 13: 9780778313717
Verlag: MIRA, 2012

Inhaltsangabe

“Full of mystery, humor, and oh-so sexy scenes. I couldn’t wait to see if love would win in the end.”—First for Women

After growing up in cheap motels, moving from town to town with her sister and mother, Cheyenne Christensen is grateful to be on her own. She’s grateful, too, for the friends she found once her family settled in California. But she’s troubled by the mystery of her earliest memories, most of which feature a smiling blonde woman. A woman who isn’t her mother.

Although Cheyenne has repeatedly asked for explanations, the people who could help aren’t talking. Cheyenne is set on finding answers, but without so much as a birth certificate, it won’t be easy.

Things get even more complicated when her closest friend is attracted to the man Cheyenne has secretly loved for years. For Eve’s sake, she decides to step aside—which lands her right in the arms of Dylan Amos, oldest and baddest of the hell-raising Amos brothers. He’s the kind of guy she’s sworn to avoid. She can’t afford to make a mistake, not when she finally has a chance to learn who she really is and change her life for the better. But…maybe there’s more to Dylan than she thought. Maybe letting him go would be a bigger mistake.

Previously published

Don’t miss Brenda Novak’s latest book, When I Found You!
 

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

New York Times bestselling author Brenda Novak has written over 80 novels. An eight-time Rita nominee, she's won The National Reader's Choice, The Bookseller's Best and other awards. She runs Brenda Novak for the Cure, a charity that has raised more than $2.5 million for diabetes research (her youngest son has this disease). She considers herself lucky to be a mother of five and married to the love of her life. www.brendanovak.com

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It didn't snow in Whiskey Creek often. But when it did, it took Cheyenne Christensen back to another time and place. Not one filled with picture-perfect memories of warm holidays, gaily wrapped packages and hot apple cider, like the Christmases her friends enjoyed. No, this kind of weather made her feel sick inside, as if something dark and terrible had happened on just such a night.

She wished she could remember exactly what. For years she'd racked her brain, trying to make sense of her earliest memories, to conjure up the woman with the smiling face and pretty blond hair who featured in so many of them. Was she an aunt? A teacher? A family friend?

Surely it wasn't her mother! Cheyenne already had a mother who insisted there'd been no one in her life meeting that description.

That didn't mean it was true, however. Anita had never been particularly reliable—in any regard.

"Chey, where are you? I need my pain meds."

Real mother or not, the woman who'd raised her was awake. Again. It was getting harder and harder for Anita to rest.

Trying to shake off the stubborn melancholy that had crept over her when the snow began to fall, Cheyenne turned away from the window. The three-bedroom hovel she shared with her mother and sister wasn't anything to be proud of. She'd put up a Christmas tree and lights, and kept the place clean, but their house was easily the most humble abode in Amador County.

Still, it was better than the beater cars and fleabag motel rooms she'd lived in growing up. At least it provided some stability.

"Be right there!" She hurried to the cupboard to get the morphine. After more than a decade, her mother's cancer was back. Cheyenne hated to see anyone suffer. But if Anita hadn't gotten sick fifteen years ago, they might never have settled down, and coming to Whiskey Creek was the best thing that had ever happened to Cheyenne. As guilty as it made her feel, she would always be grateful for the diagnosis that stopped all the shiftless rambling and finally enabled her and her sister to enroll in school. She just wished the cancer that had started in Anita's ovaries had stayed in remission instead of reappearing in her pancreas.

"What are you doing out there while I'm lying in here, suffering?" her mother demanded as soon as Cheyenne walked into the room. "You don't really care about me. You never have."

Fearing there might be some truth in those words, which sounded slurred because she wasn't wearing her dentures, Chey refused to meet her mother's gaze. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be a good daughter," she said, but even she believed it was duty, not love, that motivated her. She held too much against Anita, had longed to escape her for so many years she couldn't remember when she'd first started feeling that way.

Anita preferred her sister, anyway. She'd made that clear all along. Fortunately, Cheyenne didn't have a problem with it. Presley was older by two years. She came first and would always be number one with Anita.

"I did my best by you," her mother said, suddenly defensive.

Here we go again. She brought a spoonful of morphine to her mother's lips. "That might be true," she conceded. But it was also true that Anita's best fell far short of ideal. Until they came to Whiskey Creek, she and Presley had been dragged through almost every state in the western half of the country. They'd gone hungry and cold and been left alone in cars or with strangers for indefinite periods of time. They'd even been forced to beg on street corners or at the entrances to malls when their mother deemed it necessary.

"You never cut me any slack," Anita complained, snorting as she attempted to shift positions.

Determined to preserve the peace, Cheyenne changed the subject. "Are you hungry? Would you like a sandwich or some soup?"

Her mother waved dismissively. "I can't eat right now."

Cheyenne helped her get comfortable and smoothed the bedding. "The meds will make you sick if you don't get something in your stomach. Remember what happened last night."

"I'm sick, anyway. I can hardly keep anything down. And I don't want to put my dentures in. The damn things don't fit right. Where's your sister?"

"You know where Presley is. She works at the casino."

"She never comes around anymore."

That had to be the painkiller talking. Not only did Presley live with them, she watched Anita during the day so Cheyenne could work at the bed-and-breakfast owned by her best friend's family—and as long as Presley didn't have the money to buy dope, she helped out on weekends, too. "She left a couple of hours ago." Already it seemed like an eternity to Cheyenne, and evidently Anita felt the same way.

Growing more agitated, her mother shook her head.

"No."

"No what?"

"I haven't seen her in ages. She's abandoned me. I'm surprised you're the one who stayed."

It wasn't so unusual that Chey would be the daughter to come through for her in difficult times. She'd always been the most responsible in the family. She almost said so, but what was the point? Her mother would believe what she wanted. "She'll be here again in the morning." And as soon as she got home, she'd crash in her bed….

"Can you call her?"

"I'm here to take care of whatever you need. Why bother her?"

"Because I want to talk to her, that's why!"

Chey knew she couldn't deal with her mother if she was going to be difficult again. "Calm down, okay?"

"I'm not acting up!" She struggled to sit but couldn't manage it. "Who the hell do you think you are? Where do you think you'd be without me, anyway?"

"That's what I'd like to know." She had a feeling she'd be someplace better. But that was the suspicion talking. She normally didn't say such things. Today, the words rushed out before Cheyenne could stop them. Then they hung in the air like a foul stench.

Her mother blinked at her. Her eyes, though rheumy with sickness, could still turn mean. But she'd lost the power she'd once wielded. She could no longer frighten Cheyenne.

Thank God.

Anita must've realized it wouldn't do her any good to rail, because she didn't let her temper boil over. Her voice became whiny. "You can treat me like this when I'm about to die?"

There was nothing more the doctors could do. They'd prescribed liquid morphine for the pain and Ativan to ease the anxiety, and released Anita so she could spend her last weeks at home. Pancreatic cancer typically moved fast. But Cheyenne didn't think Anita had arrived at her final moments quite yet. "Let's not despair too soon."

"You won't shed a tear when I'm gone."

Hoping to distract her, Cheyenne turned on the TV. "I'll heat some soup while you watch Jeopardy!'''

Anita caught her before she could walk out. "I've always loved you. I could've abandoned you, but I didn't.

I kept you with me every step of the way, even though it wasn't always easy to feed and clothe you."

Cheyenne pivoted to confront her. "Who was the blonde woman? Someone you used to leave me with?"

Anita grimaced. "What blonde woman?"

"I've told you about her before. I can remember someone with blue eyes and platinum-blond hair....

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Verlag
MIRA
Erscheinungsdatum
2012
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0778313719
ISBN 13 
9780778313717
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
448
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