Let It Snow

by Sherry Lewis

  The accusation hit her like a blow to the stomach. She stood and took two steps backward to put herself out of his reach. “There are some things that are impossible to forgive.”

  “Well, you’ve gotta try, girl, for your own sake. If you don’t, they’ll eat you up.”

  She had tried. Over and over again, she’d tried to put what Gil had done out of her mind. Not for his sake, but because she couldn’t bear thinking about it. Even after all this time, the memories were too raw. Gil had shrugged it off and gone back to the Lucky Jack two days later, as if nothing had happened. As if their entire world hadn’t fallen down around them. But Marti hadn’t. She couldn’t.

  She lifted one shaky hand to her forehead, as if she could stop the sudden, incessant pounding. “Maybe Cameron and I should leave. I can’t stay here if Gil’s going to be around all the time.”

  “I’m just giving him a chance to see Cameron.”

  “He doesn’t have to work here to see Cameron.”

  “That’s not the way he tells it.”

  Pain shot through her temples and settled behind her eyes. “How does he tell it?”

  Henry sighed heavily and crossed one ankle on his knee. “He hasn’t even seen the boy in three years. Now you’re back, but the boy’s spending all his time with Dennehy. Gil’s afraid he’s losing his son.”

  “Gil can see him whenever he wants,” she told him.

  “But Rick’s been good for Cameron.”

  “Rick?” Her father cocked an eyebrow at her. “That sounds pretty darned familiar to me, girl. What’s going on with you? Have you been seeing him on the sly?”

  “No. But I do talk to him when I run into him.”

  “Well, don’t get too friendly with him. He’s already taken half my property, I don’t want him interfering in your marriage, too.”

  “You sold him half your property, he didn’t steal it. And there’s no marriage to interfere with.”

  “All I’m saying is, he took advantage of me when I was down. I wouldn’t put it past him to do the same to you.”

  “That’s ridiculous. You put the property up for sale.”

  “Only because I had to. After you left, I didn’t have the help I needed to keep this place running.” He pushed to his feet, crossed to the swinging door and held it open with one hand. “Things have been rough on all of us since you divorced Gil and moved away. Don’t get so wrapped up in what you want, that you don’t take the time to look around you. Gil’s unhappy, Cameron’s miserable and I’ve lost half of what’s rightfully mine because you can’t find it within yourself to forgive your husband.”

  He pushed through the door into the living room. It swung shut behind him, and each whoosh of the door against the frame found an answering echo in Marti’s heart. She didn’t want to believe what she’d just heard, but a small kernel of uncertainty teased her. Was she responsible for everyone’s unhappiness? Had she been too quick to end her marriage to Gil? Was she responsible for Cameron’s surliness?

  Lowering her head, she held back tears of frustration. She’d come home to find peace; instead, she’d found turmoil. She’d come back hoping to salvage her relationship with Cameron; instead, it seemed to be growing worse every day. Maybe she had brought this heartache upon herself and everyone else. If so, only she could fix it.

  She crossed to the counter and gripped it with both hands to steady herself. She didn’t want to believe it, but honesty forced her to question whether her inability to forget that one horrible night had kept her from trying to work things out.

  Maybe Gil had changed. If she didn’t at least give him a chance to prove himself, she’d never know. And by stubbornly refusing, she ran the risk of making Cameron so angry, she’d lose him forever. Whatever else she might have to tolerate, she couldn’t endure that.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CAMERON LAY on his bed, staring up at the ceiling and wondering what was wrong with his mom, anyway. Why did she have to be so mad at his dad? Why did she have to be so angry with everyone all the time? How could he fix things if his mom didn’t even listen?

  She hadn’t always been this way. She used to smile a lot. Laugh, even. They used to do stuff together—fun stuff. Now, every time they spent more than five minutes in a room together, they had a fight.

  She said she was tired of fighting with him, but she sure didn’t act like it. It seemed to Cameron that she enjoyed the arguments. She sure started enough of them.

  When a soft knock sounded on the door of his bedroom, he raised onto his elbows and glanced at it. He wondered for a second whether he’d only imagined it. But the sound came a second time, still just as soft.

  It had to be his mom. He could hear the TV playing in his grandpa’s study.

  “Yeah?” He used his toughest voice, to make sure she didn’t think she’d hurt him.

  “Cameron?” Her voice came through the door. “Do you mind if I come in?”

  He wanted to say yes, but he knew she wouldn’t give up. Instead, he dropped back on the bed and covered his eyes with one arm so she wouldn’t see that he’d been crying. “I guess so.”

  The door creaked open and he heard her footsteps halt just inside the door. “I brought your dinner up for you.”

  Yeah? Good. He was so hungry, his stomach hurt. But he didn’t want her to know that. He grunted and hoped she’d leave so he could eat.

  Her footsteps moved closer. He could feel her standing over the bed staring down at him. He stiffened his arm, hoping she wouldn’t try to pull it away from his eyes.

  “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since you left the table.” She sounded kind of sad, but Cameron resisted the urge to peek at her face. She might be faking it. She’d done that before. “You really want to stay here, don’t you?”

  He grunted again.

  She sighed softly. “Cameron? Look at me, okay? This is hard enough to say without having to say it to your arm.”

  He shifted his arm a little and peered at her over the top of it. “What?”

  “I’ve been thinking that maybe you’re right. Maybe I should give it another chance.”

  His heart jumped, but he didn’t let himself get excited. Not yet. He didn’t trust her. “Give what another chance?”

  She waved her arm around the room. “This. Gunnison. Staying here.”

  Was she serious? He squinted to see her face better. She looked serious. His heart gave another skip. “We’re going to move back?”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  It should have been enough for him, but he needed to know if she meant it. He decided to push, just to see what she’d do. If she got mad again, he’d know she was lying. “What about Dad?”

  She shifted her position, her shoulders slumped, and she frowned. But she didn’t get red in the face, and she didn’t start yelling. “I’ll think about him, too.”

  Cameron sat up, forgetting all about keeping his eyes covered until he saw the look on her face. It was too late to cover them again, but if she meant what she said, maybe it didn’t matter so much anymore. “You’ll think about getting back together with him?”

  She almost smiled. “I’ll think about it.”

  He tried not to smile back, but he couldn’t stop himself. “You’re serious?”

  “I’m serious.”

  He flopped back on the bed and tried to wipe the silly grin from his face. “Okay.” He didn’t say anything more. He didn’t want her to think she’d gotten to him or anything.

  But she knew. He could see it in her eyes. She stood there for a few more seconds, looking at him as if she expected him to say something else. When he didn’t, she turned away and crossed to the door again. There, she glanced back over her shoulder and motioned toward the plate she’d left on his dresser. “Eat your dinner before it gets cold, okay?”

  “Yeah. Sure.” He sat up on the edge of the bed so she’d stop worrying about it. “I will.”

  This time, she did smile right before she closed the door and left
him alone. He lay back on the bed and let his own smile spread across his face. She’d think about it. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

  Cameron knew—he just knew—that if she gave his dad half a chance, she’d eventually be able to forgive him. And if she could forgive his dad, maybe some day she’d be able to forgive Cameron, too.

  It wasn’t as if he’d made a little mistake or anything. This whole stupid mess was his fault. And he knew he’d be lucky if she ever forgave him.

  But for the first time since he was a little boy, since the night he’d shown everyone just how stupid he really was, he felt a little hope that maybe he could actually make up for what he’d done.

  RICK SAT on the floor in front of the fireplace and held his hands toward the blaze. One dim lamp burned near the window, but most of the light in the room came from the fire. If he hadn’t been alone, the mood would have been cozy, even romantic. But he was alone. And he knew better than to think the situation would—or should—change.

  Leaning his head back against the couch, he closed his eyes. Working in the dry wind and snow all day had left his face red and raw. The cold had worked it way deep into his bones. The physical exertion left his muscles stiff and sore. He could almost hear his bed beckoning him. But he didn’t move until the telephone startled him a few seconds later.

  He stood quickly, hurried into the kitchen and snagged the receiver from the wall phone.

  “Rick?” a woman’s voice demanded when he answered. “Did I wake you?”

  The voice sounded so much like Jocelyn’s, his.heart skipped a beat. In the next second, he realized it was her sister. “Lynette. No, you didn’t wake me. I was just sitting in front of the fire.” How had she found him? No one knew where he’d gone.

  “I tried to reach you at work to talk about plans for Christmas. Your assistant told me you’d taken the month off.”

  “That’s right,” he admitted slowly. “But I didn’t tell her where I’d be.”

  “Well, she figured it out. Apparently, your Realtor called with your new number after the phone company assigned it. You’d already gone, so she made a note of it in case she needed to reach you...I talked her into giving it to me.”

  He made a mental note to have a chat with Noreen when he got back to the office and tried to hide his irritation. “Is that why you’re calling? About Christmas?”

  “Yes, of course. What are you doing at the cabins?”

  “Fixing them up so I can sell them.”

  “Oh, Rick.” She sounded disappointed. “You’re going to get rid of them?”

  “I am.”

  “Is that wise? I mean, you and Jocelyn were so happy there.”

  No, they hadn’t been happy. But Rick hadn’t admitted the truth to Lynette in two years, and he didn’t intend to start now. Nor did he intend to give her a chance to talk him out of his decision. “So, what did you need?”

  She hesitated so long before answering, he worried she might argue with him anyway. To his relief, she didn’t. “Tom and I would like to get together with you over the holidays.”

  Rick didn’t want to spend the holidays with Lynette’s family. He’d spent part of the previous Christmas with them, and it had been an emotional disaster. Lynette still hadn’t fully accepted Jocelyn’s death, and she’d wanted to spend every waking hour talking about her. Their younger brother, Ryan, had worked equally hard to avoid talking about Jocelyn, and Rick had been caught in the middle. He didn’t want a repeat this year.

  He made an effort to keep his voice sounding normal. “Well, I guess that’s out of the question since I’m not in town.”

  “Not necessarily.”

  “I can’t come back. I have too much to do around here.”

  “You don’t need to come back,” she said. “Tom’s got a long holiday, and we’ve decided to bring Christmas to you.”

  He shook his head, slowly at first, then faster. “No. That’s impossible.”

  “It’s not impossible,” Lynette insisted. “It’s only a day’s drive. We’ll be there the day after the girls get out of school for the holidays.”

  He thought frantically, trying to find some excuse to keep them away. “The cabins are in horrible shape,” he warned. “There’s no place for you to stay.”

  She laughed softly. “Jocelyn told me they were rustic, but you know us. We don’t need anything fancy. In fact, we’d love a chance to see the cabins.”

  “They’re worse than rustic,” he told her. “They’re dilapidated.”

  Another laugh, this one slightly harsher than the last. “We don’t care. Honestly, we don’t. We just want the family together for Christmas. In fact, I’m going to call Ryan and Anne after we’re through talking.”

  Rick took a bracing sip of coffee and tried a different argument. “I’m not planning to celebrate Christmas this year—”

  “Oh, but you have to. Jocelyn loved Christmas.”

  Rick didn’t need the reminder. “I’ll be too busy to celebrate. I’ll be working all the time.”

  “You can’t work all the time,” Lynette argued. “And if we’re there, Tom can help you. Ryan might even be willing to help out.”

  Ryan wouldn’t help. And Tom hated manual labor as much as Rick loved it. Rick could just imagine how he’d react to Lynette volunteering him. Strike that. He knew how Tom would react. He’d hate every minute of it, but he’d give in. Tom loved his wife, but he knew—as Rick did—that arguing with Lynette never accomplished anything.

  “I wouldn’t let Tom work—”

  “He’d love to help,” Lynette said, cutting him off. “Now, no excuses. I know how hard this Christmas will be for you. Personally, I think you should have waited until after the holidays to go back, but since you’re there—” She broke off as if he could fill in the rest himself.

  And he could. Since he was here where Jocelyn had died...since the anniversary of her death was only a couple of weeks away...since Lynette hadn’t fully accepted the reality of her sister’s death. He took a deep, steadying breath. “I don’t want company for the holidays.”

  “Maybe not,” Lynette conceded, “but you need it. Besides, think about the girls. They miss you.”

  Rick closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the wall. He wouldn’t hurt Ashley and Kendra for anything in the world. If they wanted to spend Christmas with him, he couldn’t say no. He couldn’t help resenting Lynette for using them to get the results she wanted.

  He took another steadying breath and let it out again slowly. “All right.”

  “Wonderful. The girls are through with school on Wednesday. We can be there Thursday—” She broke off again and listened to something Tom said in the background. “Tom says not to count on us before Saturday.”

  That left only five days. Five short days to put one of the large cabins in order and to get used to the idea of having Jocelyn’s family around. Making an effort to keep the edge out of his voice, he gave Lynette directions and hung up the phone, then walked back into the living room.

  Trying to put Lynette’s call out of his mind, he stretched and groaned aloud, then dropped to the floor again and extended his legs toward the fire.

  Although the day’s work had left him exhausted, he couldn’t completely ignore the sense of satisfaction that teased the edges of his consciousness. But that kind of thinking wouldn’t do him any good, either. He couldn’t stay here. He’d never be able to live with the guilt if he did.

  As he reached for the cup of coffee on the floor beside him, the muscles in his back twinged. He closed his eyes for a moment, reopened them slowly and took a long sip. No, he couldn’t stay here. He’d come to escape Christmas and all its irritating trappings, and to get the cabins ready to sell. He had no business entertaining second thoughts.

  He was just about to take another sip when a knock sounded on the front door. Now what? He lowered his mug to the floor and pushed to his feet. Only two people would stop by this time of night—Cameron or Marti.

&
nbsp; Telling himself to ignore the flicker of hope that it would be Marti, he crossed the room and turned on the porch light. He steeled himself for the rush of frigid night air and opened the front door.

  She stood in the glow of the light, smiling uneasily and holding the collar of her coat close to her neck with one hand. She’d tucked her hair under a knit cap that fit snugly over her ears. The wind had whipped color into her cheeks that made her even more beautiful.

  He tried to ignore the sudden, rapid beating of his heart. “Looking for Cameron again?”

  She shook her head. “No. Actually, I was out walking and saw your light on. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

  “Not at all.” He pushed open the door a little farther. “Come on in, it’s freezing out there.” He waited until he’d closed the door to ask, “Is there a problem?”

  “No...” Smiling nervously, she released the choke-hold on her collar and tugged off the cap. Her hair tumbled to her shoulders and caught the glow of the fire. She ran her fingers through it, but when she met his gaze, he saw something unsettled lurking in her eyes. “Yes, I guess there is a problem. But not with Cameron. Not really.”

  She looked so vulnerable Rick’s heart went out to her. “You need to talk?”

  Letting out a whisper of a sigh, she nodded uneasily. “If you have a few minutes. I need some perspective.”

  Perspective? From him? Boy, had she come to the wrong place. “I’ll do my best,” he promised. “Sit down.” He gestured toward the couch and trailed her into the room. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  Her lips curved into a ghost of a smile. “Do you have wine?”

  The request surprised him, but he didn’t let her see that. He nodded and scooped up his coffee mug from the floor. “White or red?”

  “Red, please.”

  “Red it is. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.” He hurried into the kitchen and left his mug on the counter. He pulled two stemmed glasses from the top cupboard, uncorked a new bottle and poured some wine into each glass.

  When he carried the glasses back into the living room, he found Marti perched uncomfortably on one end of the couch. She looked incredibly sad. And extraordinarily desirable.