Romance in Color

by Synithia Williams

  “I’m not angry. I should never have let you behind the wheel after Lillian told you they were moving. It’s upset you. I understand that. You need to cool off and let me drive.”

  Jake clamped his fingers around the wheel. He clenched his teeth and saw nothing but bright stars around him, heard nothing but the gushing of air channeling through his ears. He slowed and pulled over, jamming the truck in park before slumping over and crying like a little baby.

  Winona was at his side in an instant, her hands on his back, soothing him with whisper-soft words. He didn’t know what she said, but her voice burrowed deep into his heart.

  • • •

  Jake’s body heaved with his cries, and Winona soothed him the best way she knew how. With her touch, her voice, her comfort. The two-lane road wasn’t busy, but she clicked on the hazard lights just in case. The earth glowed as the sun disappeared behind the mountains.

  Watching him with Amy had made her heart soar. They loved each other. Amy had already lost so much. Now she would lose Jake. A man who would be a huge influence on her.

  Would she think Jake had abandoned her?

  Winona understood loss and didn’t want Amy to suffer any more than she would suffer. Amy had such energy and passion for life. It was obvious she had been loved and doted on, but didn’t act spoiled or rotten. Lillian was her mother. It was her decision on what was best for her child.

  Winona knew she was being harsh to Jake, belting out reminders of Brandon’s death, but she only wanted to wake him up. Jake thought Amy would be safer with him than with her own mother and although Jake was good with her, she knew from experience that a child needed her mother above all else.

  She’d never want to take a child away from her mother unless she knew for absolute certain that Lillian was a bad person. And Lillian might be selfish and difficult to understand, but Winona hadn’t seen a hint of abuse or neglect or any wrongdoing. Winona had spent years longing for her mother and couldn’t participate in taking a child away from theirs.

  She wondered if Jake’s mania was one of selfishness. He’d overcome so many pains in his life; maybe attaching himself to Amy made him feel strong. Maybe he saw her as a means to stay sober and without her he felt he had no reason. Winona tried to remain rational, but she couldn’t help but wonder.

  Jake’s cries eased and he lifted his head to look at her. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry.”

  Jake rested his forehead on hers, his nose inches away, his warm breath brushing her cheek.

  “Let’s find a hotel for the night,” Winona suggested, excluding any hints of sexuality. “I think we could both use some sleep.”

  “Sounds good.” Jake opened his door and slid out, walking toward the other side so Winona could drive. She moved to the driver’s side and searched the GPS for the nearest hotel.

  Night rolled in by the time she drove into the parking lot of a motel and parked at the lobby entrance. Outdoor lights split the darkness as moths fanned the shadows.

  Jake remained quiet, grieving, except to insist he pay. She took his money and left him in the truck while she registered. There were only three rooms, all with king beds, so she didn’t falter. They’d been sleeping together anyway, so why worry about having to now?

  He let her shower first. Alone. She slipped into bed and listened to the water skipping across his skin and onto the tile, remembering another night when she’d laid in his arms in a bed much like this one, only smaller, and watched a zombie movie. Laughing. Feeling carefree.

  Before Lillian’s news.

  He lifted the covers and lay beside her, sending a light breeze across her skin, then warmth when he enveloped her and pulled her next to him.

  He made love to her. No, it wasn’t making love. It was sex. His movements were different. Or maybe she was different. Standoffish. Unsure about the future and uncertain about his feelings for her. His movements were stilted and he didn’t touch her like usual. He wasn’t making love to her because he wanted her, needed her. He was having sex to fill a void only sex could fill.

  She lay awake for a long time afterwards, listening to him snore.

  • • •

  “I’m turning around and going back to Amy.” Jake stood with his stance widened and feet planted firmly on the ground, his hands on his hips, and his face contorted into a scowl. He jerked open one hand, palm up. Waiting. His body tense. “Give me my keys.”

  “No,” Winona said. “Get in the truck.”

  Tendrils of morning emerged in a sigh. Birds chortled. Wisps of sunlight stretched through a soggy fog, the dampness ratcheting up the humidity. A breeze scuffled through the trees in an effort to lighten the mugginess, but it did nothing to lighten the heavy weight in her heart.

  They stood toe-to-toe outside, their bags loaded and ready to go. Their voices carried, and Winona tried to keep quiet so as not to wake anyone sleeping in the nearby rooms.

  She opened the driver’s door and slid in, slamming it shut. Jake didn’t move. She closed her eyes, praying for strength. Waiting, praying she wasn’t about to see an aggressive side of him she didn’t know about. She didn’t want to argue with him, not over this. There was no way either of them could win.

  He opened her door and stood, glaring. “It’s my truck. Give. Me. My. Keys.” His voice flattened to a level that would have most people crawling out of their skin.

  Not Winona. She didn’t flinch. If he pulled her out of the truck, she’d keep fighting. “No. I’m. Going. Home.” She forced a power she didn’t feel into her voice, mimicking his. She started the engine and looked at him, weakness assailing her. Who knew what the right thing to do was? And what were their options? Go to Lillian and help her pack? Spend more time with Amy before she moved? Do something illegal? “If you see the need to go after Lillian and change things, you can do it later. On your own time.”

  “My own time may be too late for Amy.”

  “Give me a break, Jake. I’ve seen no clues that she’s in any kind of danger. It looks to me like her mother just wants to protect her.”

  “Hah!” Jake’s face tightened, his neck corded, and his shoulders bunched forward as he stiffened against the open truck door.

  “You have many options. If you think she’s a terrible mother and you have any kind of proof, which I haven’t seen yet, call CPS. That’ll open an investigation.”

  “You should know how that’ll turn out.”

  “You said you thought Lillian had Brandon killed for money. So give her money. Offer to adopt Amy and pay her off.”

  “That’s a bit extreme.”

  “So is kidnapping Amy,” Winona said, suspecting his intentions and wanting to do everything she could to prevent it. Right now, the only thing she could do was go home. “You’d have to take away Amy’s identity.”

  “Not completely.”

  “You want to confuse her by telling her that her name has changed? Wipe everything from her memory, including her father? Risk going to jail and have her be raised by foster parents?”

  “I won’t get caught. I won’t wipe her memory.”

  “If you want to stay hidden, you’ll have to brainwash her. Eventually, she’ll lose her memories.”

  “Well, I guess it’s better than losing her life.”

  Stilted silence followed. He looked down, clenched his jaw, and stalked to the passenger side.

  The door slammed, its ferocity ringing through the truck like a death knell.

  Winona put the truck in gear and drove. They had about four hours to go, and she could probably make it in three without stopping if she could see through the grunge of morning. The gas tank was topped off, the roads idle enough she could take the chance of speeding. Except for the fog. The fog deepened, swelling and opening to swallow them.

  An hour passed in tense silence, two hours, then three. She didn’t stop. She didn’t offer to stop. Sunbeams swam through the fog like an athlete, dipping up and plunging back into the waters until finally
the haze lifted and the sun surfaced in victory.

  Jake watched out the window until he finally faced her.

  “If it makes you feel any better, I did offer to give money to Lillian. Told her I’d adopt Amy. She laughed in my face.”

  “Maybe she just doesn’t understand your love for this child,” Winona said. “Some people don’t understand that kind of love, especially a love for a child that isn’t yours. And with the craziness in this world, maybe she’s afraid you’d be more harmful to her child than good. And maybe, just maybe, she loves her child.”

  “You of all people should understand why I don’t want Lillian to take Amy away from her family.” His voice sounded defeated.

  “Of course I understand,” Winona said. “But Lillian is her family. She’s her mother.”

  “She’s never been a mother to her child. Only when it suits her. But maybe that’s why you don’t understand. You never really had a family. You were in an orphanage at Amy’s age.”

  His words stung. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel, the road tunneling into a network of cars she had to focus on as they traveled through a city. She could barely manage to see through the hazy stars of fury that flashed before her eyes. Brake lines appeared in front of her and she had to react. White-hot anger quenched any empathy she might have felt for Jake.

  He had no right to say that. No right. And if he gave a damn about her, he wouldn’t have, no matter how bad he hurt.

  She missed Amy. Just because she wasn’t running after her didn’t mean she didn’t miss her, didn’t worry about her. But as far as she could tell, Lillian wanted to protect her daughter. Enough that she would be willing to move away from everything and everyone she knew.

  Winona could understand and even admire that. Her own mother had spent her life trying to protect her and Chayton. Maybe she had grown up in an orphanage. Maybe she had missed the parts of life that most people would consider made her whole. But her mother, once she’d found her, had made it up to her. Winona had experienced enough motherly love to last a lifetime.

  If Lillian wanted to protect her daughter, who was she to stop her?

  Jake watched her. She saw him out of the corner of her eye but didn’t look at him. She was so close to home. One more hour, and Jake could go his own way. Their time spent together could mean nothing to him for all she cared.

  He would go back to his life, and she’d go back to hers.

  She continued to drive, outside the city, into the country, into another town, without speaking. She glanced at the gas to make sure it was all good, and continued to drive in silence as they passed a sign that said Tanyon was only another fifteen miles.

  “I’m sorry, Winona,” Jake finally said, reaching for her leg. She flinched away, as much as possible considering she was driving. Down the hill, into the first stretches of town, past his bed and breakfast, past Air Dog, past anything that once mattered to her.

  She pulled into the condo. Grabbed her bags from the backseat. He opened her door and came to her, but she held up her hand to cut him off and kept walking.

  “Go home, Jake. Go back to your life. Follow Lillian. Whatever it is you feel you need to do. I can’t help you anymore.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  That evening, Winona borrowed Chayton’s Jeep, loaded a bale of hay and her bow and arrow, and drove up the mountain to camp. She felt guilty about leaving Snowbound with Reagan another night, but she needed to do this.

  The sun lowered, branching out of the mountain in one last hurrah. She continued to drive over the bumps and crevices of dirt until she found a camp spot far away from town or lights or humanity.

  Once she found her spot, she texted Chayton to identify where she was, turned off her phone, and set up camp. Stacking the hay bale, she set up her archery station.

  It’d been months since she’d shot her bow and arrow, years since she’d camped overnight alone. In the past, once she concluded a case she’d escape for a night to muse over what happened and assess her next goals. She’d go home the next day with renewed vigor and objectives.

  She wasn’t sure that would happen tonight.

  Dusk tipped the sky in orange and pink, shadowing her archery station but allowing just enough light for Winona to see her target. She pulled back on her bow and held it as she eyed her mark. Her muscles quivered as she gauged the distance. The wind rustled through the trees. Releasing the arrow, it zipped through the air and thunked into the bale of hay.

  Bull’s-eye.

  Her whole life had been a bull’s-eye to her accomplishments. She’d hit one and move to the next, barely giving herself time to think. Too much thinking resulted in disenchantment. She’d made it her life mission to find her brother, hoping to find a part of herself. As much as she loved Chayton and his family, she hadn’t found that missing part of herself until she’d met Jake.

  She was in love with him.

  She pulled back another arrow and let it zing through the air, figuring she should probably at least talk to him and see how he was holding up. He’d no doubt head home or even back to Amy tomorrow, if he didn’t tonight. His truck had been parked at the bed and breakfast when she’d driven by earlier, but that didn’t mean he planned to stay. He probably planned to pack and leave.

  She should apologize to him. Maybe what he said was wrong, but she hadn’t helped the situation. Maybe he’d been right about not understanding, and maybe he hadn’t meant any of it. She understood. He lashed out his fears and vulnerabilities, attaching them to another person. Maybe even a person he cared about. She’d do the same thing—had done the same thing in the worst of moments.

  She had been an orphanage at Amy’s age, but she’d learned a lot from it and had grown up better from her experience. Finally adopted at thirteen, she only discovered a few months later that Tamra was her real mother. By then, she had already fallen in love with her mother, and they had become best friends. Her mom had given her and Chayton away to protect them. Chayton had gone to his true father, but Winona’s father had died. Her mom had saved her once, adopted her, and saved her again.

  When she’d been looking for Chayton and her mother wouldn’t tell her any clues, she’d said unforgivable things. Then her mom was diagnosed with cancer and Winona hadn’t wanted to hurt her with the truth that she was searching for a brother who didn’t want to be found. She’d started searching harder once Mom had been diagnosed, and though they had repaired any wounds words might have injured, guilt would always consume her.

  Winona was relieved Mom had met Chayton before her death and that she’d died happy. But Winona hadn’t been able to save her. She hadn’t been able to save Kayla, and she hadn’t been able to save Jake. Amy—she wasn’t sure Amy needed saving, but Jake would never be the same. If Winona hadn’t found Chayton, she’d still be searching.

  She lowered her bow, dropped it to the ground, and fell to her knees. Her chest ached and the tears she’d needed to cry since forever burned behind her eyes. Still, she couldn’t cry. It was like a tear reservoir was building, faster and faster, burning her nose and swamping her mind with thoughts she couldn’t muster. She swallowed, gasping.

  She had seen Jake cry. Consoled him while he cried. And she was still unable to cry with him. Unable to cry for him.

  Growing up, she’d suffered tremendous grief and hadn’t had her mother’s arms to console her. She’d learned to tamp down her tears until she finally had no use for them. By the time she was thirteen and her mother returned she wasn’t familiar with consolation. Her mother had taught her best she could, but Winona had learned early on that consolation wasn’t a necessity.

  She longed to cry, but hated to cry because once she started, she might not be able to stop.

  The last thing she wanted, needed, was to love Jake. Especially now, when her life was getting back on track. So instead of apologizing, she’d stay here and lick her wounds. It would be easier if she didn’t have to face him again before he left for good.

  T
wilight crept into the mountains. Fog spread its fingers like poison. She curled atop a blanket on the ground and finally, the tears exploded. She sobbed long and hard as any lingering warmth disappeared with the sun. She shivered with every intention of riding out the tears, and the darkness that the tears brought. She had to. In order to triumph over her demons, she couldn’t tuck tail and run home.

  She continued to cry as night shrouded the majesty of the mountains, instead masking them into monsters. The moon emerged. Bright and full and promising. Stars flickered to life, slowly blinking and waking to drown out the gloom. Crickets chirped. A wolf howled in the distance, threatening the moon’s tranquility. She tempered her fear, her ears straining to hear the other sounds close by.

  She didn’t fear the dark. The dark wasn’t her demon. It was the darkness of her mind that haunted her. The guilt and fears and insecurities. The inability to feel she deserved happiness.

  She’d won and lost cases in her investigator days. She’d helped to solve many and brought families back together. Sure, one child had died out of the many she saved, but one child was too many. And what about the families destroyed because she caught a spouse in a heated affair? Lives ruined because she caught someone cheating an insurance company? Maybe what she’d done was the right thing, but it didn’t give her hope for a bright future. Not after experiencing other people’s despair.

  As a child growing up in an orphanage, she often found shadowy spots to huddle and hide. Especially when visitors or new children came. She didn’t want to be adopted or fostered into a home because then her real parents wouldn’t be able to find her. She had her share of friends, but she could never relate to any of them. Her skin color was a little different. Her hair a shade off from everyone else’s. The orphanage was full of children of different color and backgrounds, but she was part Native American trying to hide in a commercialized world. Her mom had made sure to avoid any Native American orphanages for fear her husband would find Winona.

  Winona hadn’t understood what made her different until she met her mother and they’d moved to the reservation. Her mom tried to give her a normal life, but she’d always looked over her shoulder in fear her husband would find her and her child. He never did. Winona learned he’d never tried.