Stormwalker Read online

  She forced her shaking hands to steady enough to open the envelope. She slid her finger beneath the flap and slowly peeled it upward, drawing out the moment. With the envelope open, she stopped for a moment, drawing a steadying breath before she tilted the envelope and reached inside.

  She frowned when she didn't find anything. He couldn't have sent her an empty envelope. Tipping the envelope upside down, she shook it slightly and was rewarded by a shower of paper. She stared down at the scraps, feeling all the excited anticipation turn to a hard lump in her chest. She didn't have to put the torn squares back together to know what she was looking at.

  The check she'd mailed to Cody. The check that would have given her at least a fragile connection with his dream. The pain was too much for tears. It was as if he were rejecting her all over again. Her hands shook as she gathered the scraps together and stuffed them back into the envelope. The envelope was stuffed in the back of a drawer. Why she didn't just throw it away was a question she couldn't have answered.

  ❧

  David carefully adjusted one of the lights, standing back to stare critically at his creation. "Tilt your hand a little, Sara. We want to be sure the diamonds catch the light properly. That's right. Hold that position."

  Sara stared out over David's head as he snapped pictures. Her hands were cramping from the awkward position she was holding, but she didn't move. It was all part of the job. The lights that surrounded them were bright enough to make everything beyond a blur, but she didn't care. In the two days since she'd received the check, she found it difficult to care about much of anything.

  She lowered her eyes to look down at her hands, carefully posed against a black velvet background. Her nails were perfectly groomed and polished a vivid scarlet red. On the third finger of her left hand, a diamond wedding band caught the light and sent it back in crisp flares of brilliance. The matching diamond engagement ring featured an exquisite stone that seemed to gleam with a life of its own.

  Wedding rings. This was the third set she'd modeled this morning. The sparkle of the diamonds seemed to promise hope. Hope for another person. Faith enough to commit yourself to them. Tears blurred her eyes as she stared at the gleaming stones. What would it feel like to walk down the aisle toward the man you loved? To see his face as he turned to look at you?

  Tears began to slip down her cheeks. How long was it going to take before she stopped picturing Cody as the loving groom and herself as the bride? Eventually, this pain had to go away. It had to leave her free to fall in love again.

  The tears continued to fall and she sniffed quietly. Her hands remained rock steady against the background, and the quiet click and whir of the camera covered the sounds of her silent weeping. It wasn't until David looked up to suggest another pose that he realized anything was wrong.

  Sara's eyes were closed, her lashes lying in dark crescents on pale cheeks. Tears dripped steadily from beneath her lashes, trickling down her cheeks to slide off her chin.

  "Sara!" He set the camera down and came around the table as she opened her eyes. She sniffed and lifted her hands to her mouth, trying to stop the sobs that threatened to escape.

  "I'm sorry, David. I don't know what's the matter with me."

  He lifted her to her feet and guided her to his sofa, settling her down into the thick leather depths. Their relationship had been strained. It wasn't easy for him to see her and know that she would never be his, but he cared too much to be unmoved by her obvious pain. He sat down beside her and held her hands, patting them awkwardly while she struggled with her tears, finally winning the battle. He handed her a box of tissues and waited until she had mopped her eyes and blown her nose before he spoke.

  "Why don't you go back? You've been miserable ever since you returned from Colorado."

  Sara shredded a tissue, unable to deny his words. "He doesn't want me."

  "Bull. No man in his right mind wouldn't want you."

  She smiled shakily but shook her head. "He doesn't. He tore up my check and sent it back. As if he couldn't even bear to use my money."

  "I knew he hadn't cashed it. Did it occur to you that maybe it's his pride? If he cares for you, he's not going to want to use your money."

  She sniffed, hope flickering in her eyes before she shook her head again. "If he loved me, he'd have asked me to stay."

  "Maybe. People do strange things when they're in love. If you love him, you should go back and tell him how you feel. It's pretty stupid to try and second-guess another person."

  "You're awfully sweet, David." Her eyes were a misty violet as she looked at him, and David felt the pain of his loss twist in his guts. "I wish—"

  "Don't wish anything." He stood up abruptly. He didn't want her sympathy. "Go back to Colorado and talk to What's-his-name." He picked up a camera and busied himself with an unnecessary change of lenses. "Now, go home. We've got enough pictures for this job."

  It seemed as if the world had ganged up on her. Sara drove home, trying not to think about David's words, afraid to hope that they might make sense. She'd no sooner walked in the door and tossed her purse on a chair than Cullen started in on her.

  He looked up from the textbook he was reading, his blue eyes skimming her streaked mascara and smudged makeup. He looked her over critically and then slammed his book shut as she sank into a chair across from him.

  "You've been crying."

  "I... ah... got something in my eye." There were times when Sara wondered which one of them was supposed to be the adult in this family. With his face so stern, Cullen showed a disconcerting resemblance to his father, and Evan had always been able to see through any lie she attempted to tell him.

  "When are you going to stop pretending?"

  "I don't know what you mean."

  "Give it up, Sara. You're miserable and you and I both know it. Why don't you go back to Cody and tell him you love him?"

  "Maybe because he didn't ask me to stay," she flared.

  "He shouldn't have had to ask. A blind man could have seen how much in love the two of you were. Go back there."

  She shifted restlessly, wanting to believe him. "I can't. I've got responsibilities here. I can't just leave you alone and go off to chase a dream."

  His eyebrows rose. "It's been a long time since I needed a baby-sitter. I've got this house and Dad left enough money in trust for college. If I resist the urge to buy a Ferrari, I won't evenJiave to work while I go to school. I'm going to be too busy studying to have time for mischief. And I'd love to spend my vacations at the ranch. Don't hide behind me, Sara. You've given me so much already and it means a lot to me that you've always been here for me, but don't use me as an excuse now. It won't wash."

  Her eyes shifted away from his and she stood up, smoothing her palms down over her slacks. "I'll think about it."

  "You do that. But don't think too long. If you time it right, maybe you can manage to get snowed in with him."

  Sara's smile was shaky, but she felt a hint of excitement bubble up in her chest.

  Chapter 14

  Cody pulled his coat up higher around his ears as he walked to the barn. Under his boots the gravel crunched loudly with each step he took. The sound seemed to echo through the quiet valley. Beneath the brim of his hat, his eyes skimmed the solid blanket of white that coated everything as far as the eye could see. It had stopped snowing only this morning, and so far the blanket was unbroken by so much as a footprint.

  Looking at the clouds above, it wasn't hard to predict more snow by nightfall. A lot of it. Another day or two of this and he'd be snowed in for the New Year. It was something that happened at least once each winter, and he was prepared for it. Plenty of food and fuel were stored in the house and barn. He could take just about the worst winter could dish out.

  It would be harder for the cattle ranchers. They lost a lot of cattle in a hard winter, but his little herd of horses were easily watched over. With only a few animals, he could keep them closer to home. Even if he was snowed in for weeks,
he and the animals would manage all right.

  Most winters he didn't mind the isolation. If he'd wanted lots of company, he wouldn't have chosen the business he had. But this winter, loneliness had him by the throat. He stopped and stared up the narrow road that led out of the valley. This winter he already felt cut off from the world.

  Sometimes in his days as a financial advisor, he'd felt almost crushing loneliness in the midst of a city bursting with millions. But he'd never felt lonely with just his own company.

  He shook his head and started back toward the barn. He was getting maudlin in his old age. Since Sara left... He broke the thought, cursing under his breath. He was beginning to measure everything in terms of before and after Sara. His whole life seemed to have meaning only relevant to when she'd entered it.

  Tugging open the barn door, he stepped into the reL ative warmth, inhaling deeply of the rich scents of hay and horses. Dancer stuck his head over the stall door and nodded a greeting, and Dog wandered over from his bed in one corner and sniffed Cody's hand in greeting.

  Looking around at the horses, the neat rows of tack, the fresh hay in the loft, Cody felt a surge of pride. He'd done a lot with this place. A hell of a lot. It had always been enough before. Why did it seem so empty now? Sara's eyes seemed to haunt him. She was in his dreams every night, and even when he was awake, he couldn't stop thinking about her.

  He reached down to scratch behind Dog's ear, drawing a sigh of pleasure from the huge animal. "We did okay without her before. We can manage again. I couldn't ask her to stay. 1 couldn't ask her to give up everything. We were worlds apart. It would never have worked out. Never."

  The future stretched out endlessly before him. Cold and empty.

  ❧

  Sara cursed violently as the car skidded on the road, the rear end sliding toward the ditch. She resisted the urge to brake and steered with the skid, pulling the car straight at the last minute. Outside the windshield, the snow fell in what appeared to be one continuous blanket. Visibility wasn't measured in feet, it was measured in inches.

  It seemed days ago that she had rented the four-wheel-drive vehicle in Denver and started out on nice snowplowed roads. It had been snowing when she left, but it hadn't been too bad. The farther north she drove, the worse the storm became. She'd given up listening to the radio. The weather reports were too depressing. If she'd had any sense at all, she would have stopped at the first motel she could find and spent the night there. She could have continued her drive in the morning. But she didn't have any sense, obviously, because here she was driving along with her headlights reflecting off the solid wall of snow in front of her, looking for the road to the Arrow Bar W.

  What if she got to the ranch and he wasn't there? What if he was there, but he didn't love her after all? What if they were snowed in together when he didn't love her? She bit her lip to stem the tide of hysterical laughter that bubbled in her throat.

  She was exhausted. It had taken two days of begging, pleading and, on occasion, almost threatening for her to get a seat on a flight in the midst of the holiday rush. She hadn't slept since making her decision. She'd used the nighttime hours to pack and repack her suitcases while running over every possible scenario in her mind. It was only years of training that had prevented her from chewing her fingernails to the quick.

  Now here she was, in the wilds of northern Colorado, in the middle of a raging blizzard, going to see a man who might or might not love her. She giggled. Since Evan's death she'd walked on a very safe and narrow path. She'd had Cullen to consider. But, when she decided to jump off that safe path, she sure did it with a vengeance.

  Now if only she could find the road. When she found it, it was more by instinct than sight. Luckily, there was almost no traffic on the highway, so there was no one to object to her creeping speed as she peered through the darkness, searching for the turnoff.

  She turned the wheel slowly, easing off the solid pavement and onto the dirt road, praying that the tires would hold to it. If she'd thought the highway was slick, the word gathered new meaning when she found herself on a road that hadn't seen a snowplow at all.

  She lowered her speed until the car was hardly moving, and crept up the hill. Dimly, against the swirling snow, she could make out the outline of the gate. The tires bumped over the cattle guard. She was almost there.

  "Come on, baby. Just a little farther." She whispered the words coaxingly. "Just a little ways now."

  But it was not to be. It felt as if all four wheels decided to go in separate directions, like a newborn foal trying to find its feet. One minute she was in control, and the next the vehicle was sliding slowly toward the edge of the ditch. There was^ a bone-jarring jolt as the side wheels slid off the road, and then the car tilted almost gracefully over to rest in the ditch.

  Sara sat clutching the now-useless steering wheel, staring out the windshield, trying to decide whether or not anything important was broken. Her fingers were shaking as she reached to turn off the ignition, pocketing the keys absently, though it was unlikely that anyone would be stealing the car in the near future.

  It didn't take long to ascertain that she was in one piece, basically uninjured. The same could not be said for the car. What condition it might be in when it was pulled out of the ditch she couldn't even guess, but it certainly wasn't going to be doing her any good now.

  She had to scramble across the seat and brace her shoulder against the passenger door to force an exit from the stricken vehicle. She plunged directly into snow past her knees, and the words she muttered threatened to turn the air blue with more than cold. Squinting to see through the storm, she could just make out the lights of the ranch house. They looked warm and cozy and frighteningly far away.

  The wind gusted into her, blowing snow down the collar of her coat. She shivered before turning and leaning into the backseat. Her bags had all slid to the other side, and it was several frustrating minutes before she struggled triumphantly up onto the road, her overnightcase clutched in one hand and a heavier coat wrapped around her body.

  If she'd thought her progress was slow in the car, it was nothing compared to the slowness of her pace on foot. The wind had picked up and seemed to delight in doing its best to knock her over. Snow swirled in front of her eyes, blinding her. She slipped and fell more than once, and each time it was more of an effort to drag herself back to her feet.

  She had lots of time to remember every story she'd ever heard about people freezing to death. She kept her eyes peeled wide open, terrified that she would somehow fall asleep on her feet. The third time she fell, she skidded almost a yard on her bottom before she could get her boot heels into the ground to act as a brake. She sat there in the snow, trying to decide whether she should laugh or cry. She was going to feel awfully silly if Cody found her frozen body in the spring thaw, like some kind of macabre Popsicle.

  She struggled to her feet again, peering through frozen lashes to make sure that the ranch house was still in front of her. It seemed a little closer now, though that could have been wishful thinking.

  Her legs were weak, her boots had long since filled with snow and she was furious-with herself. She hadn't planned on landing on his doorstep looking like an orphan of the storm. None of this was going as planned. Tears of exhaustion seeped down her frozen cheeks as she slid her feet carefully along the ground, trying to find patches of ice before they found her.

  She managed to go quite a dfstance before she fell the fourth time. There was no warning. One minute she was standing upright and the next she was having a face-to-face confrontation with a snowdrift. For just a minute, she didn't have the energy to pick herself up. Sheer frustration made her want to scream, and her breath caught on sobs. Nothing was going as she wanted it to.

  She closed her eyes. All she wanted was to feel Cody's arms around her and know that she wasn't alone anymore. She opened her eyes and set her jaw, sliding her gloved hands under her body, determined to make it the rest of the way. She hadn't come all th
is way to tell him she loved him only to freeze to death in front of his house.

  Before she could move, strong hands closed around her shoulders, drawing her upright. She didn't even need the shadowy glimpse of his face to know whose hands they were. She gave a sob of relief and flung her arms around Cody's neck as he turned toward the ranch house. Her overnight case was abandoned without another thought.

  His steps were slow but confident, and she gave herself up to the safety he offered, knowing that he would take care of her. As if determined to thwart them, the wind picked up, howling down out of the mountains as if a demon were on its heels. Sara buried her face against his shoulder, trying to make herself as light as possible. Beneath her cheek, she could feel his heartbeat, strong and steady.

  A trip that would have taken only seconds without the wind and snow dragged out endlessly. Cody tightened his arms around Sara's slight weight as his foot slipped on a patch of ice. She rested in his arms with such total confidence. Even through the howling storm, he almost imagined that he could smell the fresh scent of her hair. Why was she here?

  He reached the house at last and mounted the steps, his arms snug around his precious burden. His boot kicked the door open and he stepped into the living room. The silence was profound. Sara hadn't realized how much sheer noise the storm was making until they were shut away from it by the sturdy walls of the house.

  Cody kicked the door shut behind them and carried her across the wooden floor, setting her down in front of the fireplace. The heat of the fire was almost painful on her icy cheeks, but it was a good kind of pain.

  She glanced up as Cody's fingers began working the buttons of her coat. For a moment, Sara considered telling him that she could manage herself, but it felt good to sit in front of the fire and let him take care of her. Besides, her fingers were so numb she wasn't sure she could manage herself.