Silver White Winters

by Candice Sue Patterson

  “Why are you showing me this?” Rae shuddered, and his instincts had him covering her hands with his for warmth.

  A sliver of sun appeared.

  Lane exhaled, forming a cloud in front of his lips. “Kessler has Hudson Coal by the throat. I’ve thrown everything I can think of at the CEO to keep the company alive. Environmental preservation projects that bring investors, ideas on how to cut costs and increase production. You name it, I’ve done it. But we’re the only thing standing in the way of Kessler owning everything, and what they keep offering is getting impossible for Hudson to turn down.” Lane shifted to meet her gaze. Time to do business. “What I’m saying is, if Hudson sells out, a lot of good folks are gonna lose their jobs, or be forced to work for Kessler which is…well…against our religion.”

  “I see.” She laid her chin on his shoulder and stared at the sludge pond, her voice wary. “How do I fit into all of this?”

  He focused on the rising sun. “You’re a celebrity. People will listen to you. The group proposing the windmill project has a couple of actors and a senator involved already.”

  “Lane, stop.” Rae closed her eyes and kneaded her temple.

  “Don’t you get it? This affects your parents, your family.”

  She dropped her hand, opened her eyes. “I can’t count the number of times I’ve tried to help them over the years. They won’t let me. They’re too proud.”

  “I’m not talking about money, Rae.” What a waste of time. She didn’t care anymore now than she did then. “Yesterday, when you told me to fight for the mountain, I thought you actually meant it.”

  “Lane—”

  “Forget it.”

  Two fingers brought his chin around. “You don’t understand. It’s not that I don’t want to help. It’s that I’m not the role model celebrity you want trying to change the world. I don’t adopt kids from war-torn countries or donate millions to cure cancer. I make bad decisions, spend months in rehab. I haven’t put out a decent song in five years.” Her eyes widened, and she leaned away, as if surprised by her revelation.

  He searched those mournful eyes, wanting to find answers. Starting with, “Would leaving me be one of those bad decisions?” Before the words could solidify on his tongue, lights blazed the destruction zone. He’d lost track of time.

  The first shift workers had arrived. A male voice yelled behind them. “What are you doing up here? This is corporate-owned property.”

  Lane fired the engine. The man ran toward them, one finger pointing and a walkie-talkie at his mouth.

  “Hold on tight, Rae.”

  7

  Raelynn hadn’t had this much fun in years. Her pulse pounded in her ears, competing with the four-wheeler’s high-pitched whine as it sped down the mountain. She hugged Lane’s waist, heart racing, refusing to let her mind imagine the crash scene if they lost control. Thankful to reach more level ground, she eased her hold.

  Lane veered into the woods, slowing the vehicle.

  She buried her cheek against his strong back and closed her eyes. She could almost pretend they were seventeen again, and her demons hadn’t caught up to her yet. Almost.

  They putted to a stop at the bottom of a hill. Lane turned the key to the off position, but neither one of them moved.

  Raelynn opened her eyes. “Why did we stop?”

  “Out of gas.”

  She sat up. The subsiding thrill and relief of escape made Raelynn laugh.

  Lane joined her and ran a hand over his face. “Did I scare you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention to the time.”

  “I thought for sure we’d be going to the county jail.”

  “Like you wouldn’t have batted your eyelashes, flashed your little dimples, and avoided punishment like last time.”

  She giggled again and slapped a hand over her mouth. She’d forgotten about that. “It worked. You should’ve tried it.”

  “It would’ve gotten me the electric chair.” Lane eased off the four-wheeler and pointed his finger at her. “And for the record, it was your idea to release those chickens into the school.”

  She opened her mouth in mock offense. “Who helped me cage ’em and drive ’em there?” Wow, her accent had returned with a vengeance.

  “You didn’t even get in trouble.”

  Raelynn bit her bottom lip to control the smile fighting to fill her face. “How was your night behind bars, by the way? You never did tell me, wouldn’t speak to me for a month.”

  Lane lifted his chin. “I was mad. Mama talked the principal into not suspending me if she let the sheriff keep me overnight. Teach me a lesson.”

  “Did you learn it?”

  “No. I still asked you to marry me.”

  Shame thawed her numb cheeks.

  His mama never had liked her much. Like she could see straight through Raelynn into the future.

  Shaking his head, Lane grabbed the thermos and started up the hill. “Comin’?”

  Now that the excitement had passed, the cold November air seeped into her bones. She climbed off the four-wheeler and up the hill. Snow dusted the forest floor. Sunlight peeked through the branches. She was glad she’d put on wool socks and her flat-soled boots. “How far are we from civilization?”

  “Not far. Couple of miles, maybe.”

  She reached Lane’s side, fully trusting his abilities. He had a sense of direction like a blood hound. “You think you can sniff your way home?”

  “I got you out of these woods once before. I can do it again.”

  She stopped. That’s right. She’d forgotten about that, too. “Why did you drag me off into the woods?”

  “Again—your fault. Jim Dixon told you there was an abandoned cave back here where gamblers set up a casino during prohibition, and you just had to see if they’d left any valuables behind.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  Lane unscrewed the lid from the thermos and handed it to her. “Come to think of it, every time I got into trouble you were the instigator.”

  Steam lifted from the coffee he poured into the lid. Raelynn took a sip, watching him over the rim. “You always came along to protect me. Always there to bail me out.”

  He took the cup and drank a sip of his own, then handed it back. “That seems to be a downfall of mine, doesn’t it?” He turned and moved through the trees.

  She deserved that, even though it burned her throat worse than the scalding coffee. Raelynn allowed her memory to return to that day in the woods.

  They’d found a small cave with an overturned card table and a ton of bat guano but no money, moonshine, or dice. By the time they’d realized their search was futile, a winter storm had rolled down from the mountain. At eleven and twelve years old, they’d debated whether to go back to the cave for shelter or continue home.

  She’d shivered more from the fear of dying than from the cold.

  Lane had draped an arm around her shoulder and bravely promised he’d get her home.

  Raelynn drank more coffee, letting it warm her insides along with the memory.

  Lane always kept his promises, honest to a fault. Worked hard and loved harder.

  She’d never deserved him. She licked her chapped lips. “Back to the conversation on the mountain. It’s not that I don’t want to help or don’t feel it’s a worthy cause. I’m just not a good enough example to represent everyone here.”

  He quit walking. “Why not?”

  She passed him the rest of the coffee. “You mean you haven’t heard?”

  “If there’s something you want to tell me, I’ll listen.”

  Shame seared her cheeks again. She didn’t want him to know the mess she’d made of her life, but she couldn’t hide it forever either. He deserved a confession. “The night I left…I took a bus to Nashville. With six hundred dollars and the naïvety of a toddler, I thought I could get by for a while. It lasted two weeks.”

  He drank, watching her with intense dark eyes that could see into her
soul.

  “I started waitressing in what has to be the roughest bar north of the Mason-Dixon Line. I managed to make enough to survive. One night on my way to the bus stop, I got mugged.”

  Air whooshed from Lane’s mouth. “Were you…”

  “He only stole my purse.”

  The taut muscles in Lane’s face relaxed. He looked around, then walked to a boulder and sat down, patting the space beside him. “None of that made you want to come home?”

  Oh, she’d thought about it several times as she cried herself to sleep. But by then the city had a hold on her, and she wasn’t ready to let it go. “With my tail between my legs?”

  Lane nodded and leaned his elbows on his knees. “Not your style.”

  She inhaled a deep breath and continued. “The bar’s owner heard about it and offered me a temporary apartment while he was in between tenants. It made the bus ride to work longer, but it was close to music row. On nights I wasn’t scheduled to work, I’d take my guitar to The Canary and sing on amateur night. That’s where Jay found me.”

  “Your manager.”

  She nodded. “He pulled me out of there, and five months later I signed a recording contract.”

  Lane stared blankly at something in the distance.

  As always, her burdens lightened when Lane shouldered some of the weight. She pressed her hands together and squeezed them with her knees. “To make a long story short, going from a nobody to a celebrity overnight was staggering. I had a hard time keeping up with expectations, marketing commitments, fans. Especially the ones who stalked me.”

  Lane sat up and pinned her with concerned eyes.

  Raelynn gave a soft smile. “Let’s just say I didn’t handle things well, which landed me in rehab. Twice. The music industry…it’s a rat race. No one’s really cut-throat in country, but if an artist can’t keep up, others pass them by. And there are so many running toward the finish line. Right now, my career is the equivalent of a city dump. My life is, too, actually, so I’m not the one you want.”

  They sat in silence.

  When the cold became too much, Raelynn shivered.

  Lane shook his head and inhaled as if breaking away from his thoughts. “You were never a nobody.” He massaged his forehead. “The town’s putting together a benefit concert at The Meeting Place to raise money for Jarvis and Belinda Cline. Their house caught fire last month and burned to the ground. No insurance. They’re staying in the parsonage until they can find another place. Jarvis has been off work with stomach cancer, and Belinda’s job at the nursing home isn’t enough to get them by. Will you at least come and sing? Help us bring in as much money as we can?”

  The familiar faces of her childhood friends and neighbors, packed like sardines in the converted barn, made her stomach clench. Some folks would be friendly, some would gawk in curiosity, others would smirk and whisper. Unfortunately, small town social hierarchy didn’t change with the passage of time. Then again, neither did her Lane. “I owe you a song, remember?”

  ~*~

  From the corner of his eye, Lane saw Rae shivering. “That you do. Come on, I’ll get you home.” He stood. The ground tilted. Tree trunks blurred. Lane steadied himself by placing one hand on the boulder and the other in his coat pocket, praying the pose looked natural.

  “Lane?” Rae picked a stray thread on her black gloves. “I know the way I treated you was despicable, and I don’t deserve to even speak to you, much less ask you this…but…do you think we can ever be friends again?”

  She didn’t deserve his forgiveness. But then no one was worthy of mercy. It was a gift born of love. Like it or not, Rae was as much a part of him as the air he breathed, and Lane didn’t want to live his life in regret. Watching the heartache play in the pull of her face and her stormy eyes, listening to her confession moments earlier, he saw her as a lost and starving puppy. With a little help, she might just find her way home.

  The dizziness subsided. Lane stepped away from the rock and held out his hand, as she’d done for him once when he’d needed a friend. “You can never have enough friends.”

  Rae stared at his hand, wide-eyed. Tears gathered in the lower lashes of her beautiful brown eyes, and she placed her hand in his.

  Lane pulled her to her feet and twined his fingers in hers. They started for the house. Guess he wasn’t as strong today as he’d thought.

  ~*~

  Rae’s toes were numb by the time they reached Lane’s house. Her hand, however, had never been warmer. He’d held it the entire way back, which turned out to be only about a mile.

  Neither spoke, as if afraid it would break the weak thread tying them together.

  Lane unlocked the door and let her in first. “I’ll build a fire if you want to stay and warm up.”

  “Sure.” She removed her boots and placed them on the mat, amazed she was here with him. Neither Aspen, Cancun, nor Italy could fill the empty places inside her the way Lane could.

  She freshened up in the bathroom and returned to a roaring fire. Flames licked the wood. Logs crackled and hissed.

  Noise drifted from the kitchen.

  Lane was leaning against the counter, his ankles crossed. He popped a pill in his mouth and chased it down with a glass of water.

  When he saw her enter, he stood tall. “I’m not much of a cook, but I’ve got food if you’re hungry.”

  “I’m fine. Thanks.”

  “Water?”

  “Sure.” He opened the fridge and handed her a bottle of water.

  They walked to the living room, and Rae settled on the stone hearth, allowing the heat to thaw her body.

  Lane took the couch, stretching his long legs to the opposite end. The skin beneath his eyes looked slightly bruised, and his hair was mussed from the cap he’d worn. He picked up the remote and turned on the TV. “Feel free to stay as long as you like.”

  Much more than she deserved. “Thanks. What about your four-wheeler?”

  “I’ll get it later.”

  After a round of channel surfing, he stopped at E.T. The ExtraTerrestrial.

  “Gosh, I haven’t seen this movie in years. Do you remember the first time we saw it?”

  Lane chuckled. “Yeah, that whole next week you left trails of candy everywhere in hopes an alien would follow you home.”

  “Your mama wouldn’t let you have a dog. I thought if I captured an alien she might let you keep him.”

  He grinned and shifted to one side of the couch, patting the spot beside him.

  Raelynn obeyed, sure to keep plenty of space between them. He was speaking to her, and she didn’t want to push him for more than that. “How is she?”

  “Who?”

  “Your mama.” Raelynn respected the woman, even though they’d never been close.

  The muscle in his jaw worked. Lane stared at the TV, face serious. “She passed away a few years ago.”

  Raelynn’s heart found her throat. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” She reached for his arm, but pulled back. “What happened?”

  His Adam’s apple dipped twice before he answered. “Aspiration pneumonia.”

  Her gut twisted. She hadn’t been there for him when he needed her. Another thing to add to her blacklist.

  For the rest of the movie, her mind traveled in and out of the present. When the ending credits rolled up the screen, Raelynn turned to ask if Lane remembered the time they tried building a fort in the woods as a base to ward off attacking aliens, which was totally his idea.

  But Lane’s eyes were closed, and his chest rose and fell in soft, even breaths.

  Raelynn watched him sleep, imagining what their lives together would be like now, had she not left for Tennessee. The digital clock on his surround sound hit noon, and she swallowed all the could-have-been emotions and looked around for a blanket to cover him.

  There were no lap throws in the room. Typical bachelor.

  She tiptoed to his bedroom. After gathering a blanket from the bed, Raelynn turned to leave and something thudded
to the floor. Lane’s Bible lay open at her feet. She must’ve knocked it off the end table with the blanket.

  Tossing the cover back on the bed, she picked up the Bible, feeling unworthy to touch the worn pages. A cardboard disc slipped out and rolled into the dresser. She snatched it up. A coaster—The Canary’s logo written in dark yellow above a guitar. Raelynn put a hand over her chest. Air struggled to reach her lungs. She remembered these so well.

  And judging by its ragged edges and faded print, this one was several years old.

  Where did Lane get this? When?

  Had he…no, she wouldn’t allow herself to entertain the thought. She’d ask him about it later. After all, they’d just agreed to be friends again. She didn’t want to flip the boat. Raelynn tucked the coaster back inside the Bible and placed it on the bedside table.

  Lane was still asleep on the couch, as handsome and desirable as ever. Yet impossibly out of reach. As she covered him, she fought the urge to lean in and kiss that spot on his cheek for old time’s sake.

  “Sweet dreams, Lane,” she whispered, then tiptoed out the door.

  8

  The warm layer of heirloom quilts and the worn-to-perfection mattress may as well have been a tissue and a block of wood for the two minutes of sleep Raelynn had gotten. Her mind had weaved in and out of consciousness, shifting from dreams of Lane to that haunting melody and back again. The notes blended together to create the most beautiful music she’d ever heard—somber yet hopeful, soothing yet energizing. Halfway through the song, she’d hit an invisible wall, and the tune would start over again.

  With a yawn, she flung the covers back and walked to the rocking chair where her robe was draped. She shoved her feet into slippers and huddled into her robe, tying the belt as she braved the darkness to the kitchen. After starting the coffee, she threw a few logs into the wood stove, and settled on the couch. Her stomach rumbled. Mama’s French toast and scrambled eggs never sounded so good. She’d forgotten what a good cook Mama was, and to Raelynn’s surprise, her appetite had picked up the past few days.