When Snowflakes Never Cease (Crossroads Collection)

by Amanda Tru

  After another five minutes of the incessant noise, Carter finally spoke, “Geneva? Is everything okay?”

  Geneva blinked at him in surprise. “Of course, why wouldn’t it be?”

  “Is your phone going to explode?”

  Geneva shrugged and looked back down at her phone to see the latest text from the contact labeled “Boy Scout.”

  “It’s Friday night,” she said simply.

  “Is Josh really that desperate to get ahold of you?”

  Geneva’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Josh?”

  “Yes, Josh!” Carter looked at her in exasperation. “You know, your boyfriend? The guy we went rafting with last summer?”

  Surfer boy. Geneva finally connected the dots. She laughed, but the tone held just a bit of awkwardness and confusion. “Josh isn’t my boyfriend. He never was. We went out a few times, but that was it. I haven’t even heard from him in months. I don’t know what made you think he was my boyfriend.”

  “My mistake,” Carter said dryly. “Obviously, I nailed it when I called him your flavor of the week.”

  Geneva stiffened. And now we are back to the cold, insulting Carter.

  She turned her body to the window and focused on her phone.

  After about five minutes, Carter finally sighed, “Look, I’m sorry, Gen. If the texts aren’t from Josh, who are they from?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business,” Geneva shot back smartly, “but I already told you. It’s Friday night. Most of the texts are from, as you would put it, all the other ‘flavor of the week’ candidates. Although a normal person would just explain that they’re from friends asking if I am free to do something fun tonight.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Clearly.”

  Geneva looked out the window. It wasn’t especially late, but night fell early this time of year. The city was already bathed in the golden glow of streetlights. The ground lay bare of snow, and the skeleton-armed trees and occasional Christmas lights were the only clues to the season.

  After a few tense moments, Carter tried again. “Maybe you can explain it to me. Why do you like to date so many different men?”

  Here was her chance. For so long, she’d felt that Carter had judged her based on assumptions. His insults declared that he didn’t understand her or her actions. Now he asked her to explain, and she didn’t know how. “I think we have different definitions,” she finally attempted. “I like to go out with friends, unwind, and have fun on the weekend. Sometimes I go with a group. Sometimes I go with a single guy.”

  “But you have all of these relationships,” Carter insisted. “You have a new guy friend every week. Even your family talks about how often you bring a new interest around.”

  She brought different guys around to her family, mostly for their entertainment. After her love life turned into a family joke, it became almost a self-fulfilling prophecy. Now she catered to the joke, embracing herself as the source of everyone’s humor and seeking ways to enhance the myth of Geneva’s entourage. But it wasn’t as if she could explain that in a way to make her not sound crazy.

  “It’s not like I have multiple relationships,” she tried. “I don’t think you can actually term a few dates as a ‘romantic relationship.’ I guess sometimes I kiss a guy, but sometimes I don’t. It’s just fun and never serious.”

  They pulled up to the valet parking in front of a hotel. Carter retrieved their luggage and turned the keys over to the uniformed valet.

  Geneva stepped out of the car and looked up at the hotel, impressed at Carter’s choice in lodging. This wasn’t a roadside motel. Instead, the building in front of them stood tall and impressive, looking as if belonged in a past age.

  Thankful that their arrival marked the end of any necessary conversation with Carter, Geneva eagerly walked up the carpeted steps, through the brass double doors, and stepped into the lobby. Her breath caught at the dramatic entrance. Beside her, a grand staircase ascended to where it parted in opposite directions at the first landing. Marble columns stood sentinels on either side of the staircase, ending in gold where they reached the ceiling. Hundred-year-old murals adorned the walls telling the story of early Kentucky. History seemed to flow with the air, and Geneva immediately wished for more than just a one-night stopover to appreciate everything the Seelbach Hotel had to offer.

  They checked into their rooms, and Geneva got about fifteen minutes of blissful recharge in her elegant room before rejoining Carter for dinner.

  Though their hotel offered a restaurant and room service, Carter seemed to want something specific even though the hour was late. In Geneva’s mind this wasn’t a vacation, and work and fun never intersected. She was on a mission and preferred to keep meals and activities to a minimum to better focus on the task at hand. However, Carter had no problem enjoying a nice meal or staying at a nice hotel, even though the reason that brought them to Kentucky wasn’t a pleasant one.

  Again, claiming familiarity with Louisville, Carter took them to a restaurant that was as modern as his hotel choice was historic. Modern art created colorful displays around the dining area that actually neighbored a museum. Geneva managed not to mention that she would have been happy with fast food, and by the time they were seated, the atmosphere had convinced her that this venture might be worth fighting her exhaustion and enduring Carter’s presence.

  However, Carter’s first words made her seriously rethink her optimistic appreciation.

  “What if a guy gets the wrong impression and wants something more serious? What then?” he asked, studying his menu and not even looking her way.

  Geneva blinked, startled that he’d picked up the previous conversation as if no time had passed. Trying to answer honestly, yet dismiss it in a casual way that moved them to new conversation territory, she shrugged. “That happens. I suppose I try to be clear and break things off before it gets to that point. That’s probably why you think I have so many relationships. I admit guys get serious a lot more frequently than I’d like.”

  “Takes about a week for that to happen?”

  Geneva recognized the hint of humor in his voice, but this time, she didn’t take offense. A smile played about her lips. “More or less. I prefer to be up-front and go out with one guy one day and someone different the next, letting them know at the beginning that we are not exclusively dating, nor am I interested in a serious relationship. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn’t. Some guys I date on and off for a few months. Some just last a week or so. Josh and I dated off and on for a few months. He was a good one. I’d probably go out with him again if he called, but I think he has an actual girlfriend at the moment.”

  “So, none of them are ever serious?” he set the menu down and speared her with a gaze that burned with intensity. “Have you ever had a serious relationship, Gen?”

  Geneva looked away and kept her tone casual. “Depends what you mean by serious. I told you. I’ve dated a few guys off and on for a few months.”

  Carter didn’t play along. His gaze demanded the truth, looking beyond the superficial to coax it out with or without her consent. The tinkling of glassware and colorful art around them receded into the background.

  With his words succinct as if to avoid any misunderstanding, Carter asked, “Geneva, have you ever had an exclusive relationship with a man last longer than a month?”

  The question was quiet, yet its tension snaked around her throat, and she couldn’t breathe.

  She had to escape. Her gaze frantically searched the dining room, looking for a sign for directions to the restroom.

  “What would you like this evening?” the waitress asked, approaching just in time to abort Geneva’s escape attempt.

  Geneva calmly ordered the mustard-crusted catfish, and Carter ordered a shrimp pan roast. The waitress soon left, and awkward silence stretched between then. Geneva focused on drinking her water and carefully studying every inch of the painting on the wall beside them.

  Carter didn’t speak a
gain, and Geneva somehow knew he wouldn’t repeat the question that had sent immediate panic through her heart. Yet, he deserved an answer. He genuinely wanted to understand, and the fault would lie on her if he didn’t. But it scared her. If he knew what he’d been to her, he might realize the power he still held to hurt her. Perhaps even more frightening was that admitting it to him also meant she’d have to admit it to herself.

  She deliberately rearranged her shiny silverware on the white tablecloth so they spaced evenly apart from each other. Then she turned to him and blurted before the words could retreat. “Yes,” She answered. “I had one.”

  His surprise shone in the warm glow of lights overhead. “One? That’s it? In all of your thirty-plus years, you’ve only had one guy you considered your boyfriend?”

  Geneva looked straight into the dark orbs of his eyes, for once not hiding the pain. Quietly, but firmly she answered, “Yes, Carter. I only had you.”

  Before she could read his reaction, she got up, pleaded her excuse to visit the restroom, and retreated. She returned just in time for the waitress to bring their food. After they blessed the food, the rest of their conversation for the evening thankfully centered on the delicious wonder of every bite.

  When they returned to the hotel well-fed and tired, they immediately went their separate ways. Geneva didn’t even remember telling Carter good night, and Carter simply let her go.

  “Are you sure we’re going the right way?” Geneva asked, looking at the map on the screen of her phone.

  “Geneva, I’m driving. Not you.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “I paid extra for a car with GPS,” Carter retorted, a touch of irritation in his voice. “I’m positive I’m going the right way. This GPS has a much higher IQ than whatever app you are attempting to use. Stop backseat driving.”

  “I wanted to be front-seat driving,” she grumbled.

  “Excuse me for trying to be chivalrous,” Carter shot back. “I didn’t think you’d want to drive in unfamiliar territory in December.”

  “Then you don’t know me very well. I can drive in snow without a problem. Now the vast amount of snow here might prove difficult, so thank you for coming to my rescue.” Sarcasm dripped off her words.

  Thus far, the December had apparently been dry for the area. As they left the city behind and drove into rural rolling hills, tired cornfields devoid of their harvest boasted only brown sticks pointing upright to a clear sky that seemed to deny that rain or snow ever had or ever would fall on the landscape that longed to live up to its picturesque potential.

  Unfortunately, the rather mild, pleasant weather did nothing to calm the stormy tension between Carter and Geneva. The strain from last night extended to the morning, and by the time they ate at the hotel’s continental breakfast and got in the car to head toward the center of the state in search of Jimmy Drew’s last known address, both of them were on edge with not a thread of patience to share between them. It only made matters worse to know this would not be a short drive. While Lexington may have been closer to their destination, they’d had an easier time getting tickets on short notice to the larger airport, which unfortunately meant more time together in the confined space of a mid-sized sedan rental car.

  Now they’d already been driving for hours and had left behind their tolerance for each other long ago.

  Carter grunted. “I have an idea. Why don’t we keep the conversation to the professional arena? Seems the only way you can manage to stay civil.”

  “I don’t recall my civility being one of the terms of you coming along when I invited you. Oh, that’s right, you came uninvited. If you’d stayed where you were supposed to, I’d be driving myself and not following some malfunctioning GPS to who-knows-where.” She didn’t know why she did it. She was not a mean, sarcastic person. She didn’t even know why she felt this burning rage toward the man. In her mind, holding a grudge because he broke up with her four years ago was juvenile, and she refused to see that as a legitimate reason for her angst. She couldn’t explain it, and yet every time she opened her mouth to speak to him, all of these hateful words rushed to vomit from her lips before she could stop them.

  Carter’s knuckles on the steering wheel grew tight and white, but to his credit, he maintained his composure. “Tell me about James Drew,” he instructed, completely ignoring her previous statement.

  She should apologize. Carter was a better person than she was. He could take a hit and shift the conversation in an effort at peace. Geneva just slung back the dirt harder than what came her direction.

  “What do you want to know?” she asked wearily, acquiescing to the change of subject.

  “For starters, what kind of man ghosts when his baby girl is fighting cancer, cuts off contact, and leaves no forwarding address?”

  While not a pleasant subject, at least it was one she could handle. “A man who loves his daughter so much but lacks the emotional strength to handle the helplessness of watching her battle.”

  Carter’s eyes looked like slits and his jaw tensed and untensed. “Still pretty selfish if you ask me.”

  “Yes, I would agree,” Geneva said, liking that she could actually say those words for once. “But if you’re not one to depend on God for your strength, then I can see how someone could be crushed under the weight of such a task.”

  Carter shook his head as if doubting her explanation. “That answers why he left when Allie was sick, not why he stayed gone after she was well.”

  Geneva surmised thoughtfully, “I imagine if he left her when she needed him, he might feel too much shame to come back when life got better.”

  Carter dismissively shook his head. “Not good enough. I have no respect for the man.”

  “We aren’t required to like or respect him, and it isn’t our job to forgive him,” Geneva said, feeling rather proud of how wise she sounded. “We just need to find him for Allie. Kara and Allie have differing perspectives on him. Kara doesn’t seem angry as much as defeated. She says he was never a strong man. From Allie’s point of view, he was the most wonderful father ever because he played with her. She deeply loves him, and in the way of a child, she doesn’t seem to realize that anything needs forgiveness. She just wants to see him one last time, and it almost seems like she realizes that he needs to see her.”

  Carter sighed in reluctant resignation. “Okay. I’ll try to refrain from punching the guy as soon as we find him.”

  Geneva rolled her eyes. “Now you’re being dramatic. I cannot believe the genteel Dr. Solomon would even think about harming another, despite what that person may have done. I believe the oath is ‘first do no harm.’”

  “You don’t know me very well,” Carter retorted dryly. “I can’t stand someone hurting a child, and I do regular battle with my vigilante desires for justice.”

  Geneva left his comment alone, admitting to herself that she probably didn’t know Carter any better than he knew her. After all, it had been four years since they’d been together. Nor did she have any desire to know him better now. She would be much happier if they could restrain everything to the professional, need-to-know basis.

  Instead, she ignored him and looked around at the narrow road, watching as they left behind even the barren fields interspersed with occasional farmhouses. She kept glancing down at the GPS and back outside the window, seeing the little dot of their destination creep closer on the map, but not spotting a building in her entire field of vision.

  Finally, she could take it no longer, and the words she tried to bite back jumped out. “Well, looking at the present circumstances, I’d say you’re a pretty lousy vigilante, Carter. There is no way we’re headed in the right direction! We’re in the middle of nowhere. Do you expect to find Jimmy holed up in some shack playing the hermit thirty miles from nowhere?”

  Carter set his jaw and said not a word. Soon they left the pavement behind and began wandering down a narrow dirt road that knew nothing of the invention of asphalt.

  “Y
ou have arrived,” announced the cheerful tone of the GPS.

  Carter stopped and looked around, seeming to expect to see Allie’s father appear right in front of their windshield.

  Geneva’s gaze searched amongst the bare trees clustered around the crest of the hill, and she mused thoughtfully, “Maybe I should call Kara and clarify Jimmy’s description. If he’s extremely tall, hairy, and endowed with enormous feet, I think you might have a chance of finding him here. Plus, you’ll be famous. I can see the headline now: ‘Dr. Carter Solomon Spots Bigfoot in Central Kentucky!’”

  “It’s a bad address, Gen,” Carter growled, seeming to not appreciate her humor in the least. “It doesn’t exist. Besides, there’s no Bigfoot around here. Wrong climate and elevation for Sasquatch.”

  “The address is fine,” Geneva insisted, also ignoring his humor. “You are simply a victim of bad directions.”

  Carter braked, put the car into park, and lifted both hands from the steering wheel. “If you want to drive, go right ahead.” He turned off the ignition and tossed the key fob into her lap. “Let’s see you do any better.”

  “I’d love to drive,” Geneva accepted happily. She hopped out of the car, ready to switch Carter places. However, halfway around the car, she looked around and saw that the road was so narrow and infrequently traveled that grass had grown up between the two tracks for tires that extended in both directions as far as she could see. No driveways, no houses, no wide spots in to turn around. In fact, other than the packed strip of brown weaving its way through the grasses and clusters of skeleton trees, there seemed no indication that this was an actual road at all.

  She stopped suddenly and put her hand on Carter’s arm as he crossed her path to switch places. He stopped abruptly, startled by the contact and looking down at her with a mixture of irritation and surprise. She lifted the keys up by the chain, letting them catch the meager sunlight as they jingled in the air. “I’ll drive. Right after you get us turned around and out of here.”