Sierra City

Chapter Twenty-four

After Chris and Annie finished their dinner, they sat at the table to play a game of cards. Gin was Annie's favorite and they played that most often. She usually won, too. Chris had been able to put Jessie from her mind, despite the fact that Mary Ruth had casually mentioned that she was back. Chris told herself that she didn't care, that it wasn't any of her business. But Jessie could only be here for one reason. To see Annie. Chris needed to warn her, to prepare her, but she couldn't bring herself to tell Annie.

"I win again," Annie said, displaying her cards.

"I keep telling you, poker's my game," Chris said. She poured the last of the wine into her glass and knew that Annie would open another one. On the nights when she stayed for cards, they went through two bottles, even though Chris complained of a headache all the next day.

"Yes, Roger tells me how you've taken all their money." Annie smiled and dealt another hand.

Chris still enjoyed the nights she visited. After Jessie had left, she had cancelled on Annie for a week or two, not feeling up to discussing her. But now, she usually had dinner with her twice a week, especially now that things had slowed down in the mountains. In the months that she had been coming here, Chris could notice the change in Annie. She smiled over the littlest things now and she showed much more interest in what was happening in town. They still discussed Jessie, but not always. Chris wondered if maybe Annie had transferred her feelings for Jessie to Chris. But that was okay, too. It wasn't like Chris had a mother figure in her life.

"Chris, why aren't you dating any of those nice men in town?" she asked suddenly.

Chris laughed, wondering why it had taken Annie so long to ask. Mary Ruth had asked after the first week.

"Where did that question come from?"

"You spend your free time visiting an old woman. Why aren't you out with some young man?"

"Annie, I'm... gay. I thought you knew that," she said easily.

"Gay? Well, I'll be."

"You didn't know?"

"Now how would I have known?"

Chris shrugged. "I thought everyone knew."

"It's not like I gossip with the locals, you know. But it just never occurred to me, I guess." She reached across the table and grasped Chris's hand. "It's okay, of course. It's none of my business what you do in your own bedroom."

Chris laughed again.

"Annie, there's not anything going on in my bedroom. I mean, this is Sierra City, not San Francisco."

Annie blushed. "Well, you know, I read a lot. It's not exactly a foreign concept to me."

"Exactly what kind of books do you read?"

"Never you mind, young lady. Play your hand."

Chapter Twenty-five

Chris met Roger for breakfast at the Rock House Cafe just like she had been doing nearly every morning since June. He had the Sacramento paper spread out on the table and she tapped his shoulder before sitting down.

"Morning," he said absently. "You're late."

"Thanks, Donna," Chris said, taking the coffee from her. She rubbed her forehead and shut her eyes, ignoring Roger.

"Chris, Dave's got fresh muffins," Donna said.

"Nothing for me, thanks."

Roger put the paper aside and studied her. "Annie keep you up again?"

"Cards." She nodded.

"And?"

"Wine."

He laughed. "You're not as young as you used to be, McKenna."

"Tell me something new."

"Oh, sheriff called me last night. They busted some guy in San Francisco that had the wallets of the Jackson boys."

"You're kidding. Is he the shooter?" she asked. This was the first news they'd had on the murders.

"Too early to tell. He really didn't know much. They've kept him in the dark through the whole investigation."

"Typical," she said.

"Yeah. I think they're hoping to get a lead on the girl."

"Roger, you know she's dead. It's been over two months."

"Yeah. Probably find her in the spring. Some poor sucker from the city will be out hiking off the beaten path and stumble over her."

Chris nodded and finished her coffee. "How's it looking today?"

"Slow for a Friday. The lodge is only half full this weekend. They're predicting a storm by Sunday though. Might be our first major snow storm."

They had had a few light dustings, but not much. Sierra Peak was nearly white, but there was no snow in Sierra City.

"Yeah. Then we can look forward to skiers and those damn snowmobiles. I hate snowmobiles, Roger."

Chris got up and pushed the chair back under the table, grabbing a few stray hash browns from Roger's plate. She fished a couple of bills from her pocket and tossed them on the table.

"See you at the office."

She went out into the sunshine and squinted, then quickly put on her sunglasses. Storm by Sunday? Hard to imagine with all that blue sky staring down at her now. She rubbed her forehead again. Damn Annie! When would she learn?

Chapter Twenty-six

Jessie paused at the trailhead to Elk Meadow, catching her breath. She had jogged at her usual time, hoping to meet Chris on the road. She was oddly disappointed when no Jeep passed her. She shrugged and started up the trail. She would run into her sooner or later, she knew. She also knew that she was hoping Chris could be the one to help her bridge the gap between Annie and herself. That is, if Chris would be willing.

She jogged the two-mile loop without really seeing it, her mind absorbed with the prospect of meeting Annie. She was surprised when she was again back at the trailhead. She slowed to a fast walk to cool down, then finally to a slow walk as she got off the road and hiked the stream to her cabin.

After her shower, she went about unpacking some of the personal things she had brought with her this time. She held up the painting that she had picked up years ago in San Francisco, elk grazing in a meadow, spring flowers all around them, mountains in the distance.

It was this painting that had kept her sane all these years. There was already a nail over the fireplace, so she pulled a chair closer and hung the painting, getting down to see if it was straight.

Too low, but she shrugged. It would have to do. She had a few books, in case she got the urge to read, and she put these on the small bookshelf. A clock for the kitchen and a spice rack that she'd bought in Sacramento went on the counter. Her crystal wineglasses had survived the trip intact and she put those away, along with the few other cooking utensils she had picked up after her flight. She added water to the vase on the table, taking a quick sniff of the fresh flowers. They would last a few more days, she thought.

She made a sandwich for lunch, taking it on the porch along with a glass of tea. Before long, a Steller's jay spotted her and swooped down on the railing, eyeing her suspiciously. She pulled off a corner of the crust and tossed it for the bird, making a mental note to pick up some birdseed and a feeder. She had always enjoyed watching the birds at the feeders when she was growing up. She thought that must be one of Annie's hobbies, because neither she nor Jack ever filled the feeders that she could remember. But they were always full. She remembered now how Annie would sit on the back porch after dinner while she and Jack watched television or she did her homework. What was she doing out there by herself all those evenings? Watching birds? Thinking? Wishing she could enjoy their company in the living room? Jessie again felt a wave of loneliness and guilt settle over her. Her mother had spent most of her adult life in isolation, even in her own home.

Jessie stared out at the trees, wondering why she never asked her mother anything. As a child, was she so consumed with her father that she didn't even notice her mother? And later, so filled with resentment, that she couldn't stand the sight of her? Yes. She knew now what she didn't know then. She blamed Annie for what Jack had done to her.

But she didn't want to think about it now. She took her plate back inside and grabbed the car keys off the counter.

She drove back up Pine Street to the main road and turned towards town, passing the ranger station on her way. She spotted the dusty black Jeep around back and she was surprised at the tightening in her chest. She shook it off and drove slowly through town, glancing down Nevada Street where the Rock House Cafe was. Only two cars were parked in front and she figured the lunch crowd had already gone. She turned her attention back to the road, passing the few shops that were still open this time of year. A lot of the tourist shops, those that catered to the biking crowd, closed after Labor Day, not to open again until May. The ones that were still open would probably close after the Christmas holidays. Just outside of town was the Pine Creek Lodge. It had been called the Sierra Lodge back when Jessie was a kid. It looked bigger now and she thought it must have been expanded. In those days, the rental shop was not there, she noted, as rows of mountain bikes stood chained to the rack.

A few miles outside of town, she turned left on the forest road, surprised at how familiar everything was to her. She had avoided this road when she had been here in August, but now, she drove confidently, knowing exactly where she was, remembering every turn. Suddenly, she clamped down hard on the steering wheel. There it was, the house she had grown up in, standing tall on the hill, like always. The trees were bigger, she noted, but little else had changed. The two-story log cabin looked as familiar to her now as it had sixteen years ago. She slowed to a crawl as she passed the driveway, looking at the fading geraniums planted around the mailbox. She sped up then, hoping Annie wasn't sitting on the back porch. She would hate to be caught spying this way. She had originally thought she would be able to turn in and drive right up to the house, but she had been unable to bring herself to do it. Was she embarrassed? Ashamed? It had been sixteen years, after all. She had said some terrible things to Annie then. It wouldn't surprise her if Annie slammed the door in her face. She drove on up the road, past the old bridge that looked exactly the same. She stopped on the other side and got out, remembering the time she had caught hell from her father for going skinny-dipping in the stream one hot summer. Of course, being the only girl with three boys hadn't helped. She must have been all of ten. She smiled slightly, remembering that carefree time in her life where the summers seemed to last forever. She tried to think of their names. Ricky Burton and his twin brothers, but their names wouldn't come to her. They had moved away the following year and she had lost her only playmates. But it didn't matter. That was the last summer she remembered fondly. After that, well... things changed.

She drove a little farther on the forest road before turning around. She had lost the courage to see Annie today. She only slowed a fraction coming down the hill, turning to her left briefly to look at the house. She drove back through town, then on impulse, turned onto Nevada Street and stopped in front of the Rock House Cafe. What she really wanted was a cold beer.

There were only a handful of people in there this time of day. Only one table was occupied, the rest of the patrons sat at the bar. She walked to a corner booth, feeling the eyes of the locals on her. She didn't recognize any of them, but it had been a long time. She wondered if the man Jack used to call Tree still owned the bar. She had her answer when a giant of a man stepped from the kitchen and walked towards her.

"What can I get you, miss?" he asked. His gray hair was cut close in a military fashion and the sleeves of his flannel shirt were rolled to his elbows. He had a white bar towel slung over one large forearm and a pen stuck behind his right ear. She thought he looked every bit the bartender.

"I'll have a draft beer, please," she said.

"Budweiser or Coors?"

"Budweiser will do."

"Coming right up." He ambled away, catching an order for another pitcher without even looking at the table behind him.

"Hey, Tree, did you hear about them catching that man that did in those two boys this summer?"

Jessie looked up at the table where the two men were sitting. Judging by their uniforms, they were two of the many locals who worked in the casinos in Reno.

"No, I hadn't heard," he said as he expertly topped off a cold mug, then proceeded to fill a pitcher with the same.

"I just saw Roger on the street. They arrested some guy in San Francisco who had their wallets. Ends up being some big drug thing, Roger said. Seems Senator Jackson's boys got mixed up with the wrong crowd."

"Folks will forget about that come election time, Ray." Tree put down a napkin and set her mug on top of it. "Here you go, miss."

"Thank you."

"Run a tab?"

"Oh, no. This will be all." She took out a crumbled five-dollar bill from her jeans pocket. "How much?"

"Buck fifty," he said. He smiled at her and she noticed that his eyes were nearly the same color as his hair.

"In that case, I will have another and keep the change."

"Sure thing, miss."

She took a long swallow of the cold beer. She rarely drank beer in New York. Wine was her favored drink. She wondered why she felt inclined to drink it here. Even in August, she had enjoyed a cold beer after her afternoon hikes. She sat there quietly, playing with her napkin. When her beer was finished, she motioned for Tree to bring her the other one.

Just then the door opened and Tree stopped on his way to her booth.

"McKenna," he greeted.

"Tree. Seen Roger?"

Jessie heard the too familiar voice and she sat back against the seat, her pulse pounding. The last place she wanted to run into Chris was the local beer joint.

"Nah. He never comes in before four-thirty. Ray said he seen him out front earlier." Tree brought her new mug and set it down on a fresh napkin. "Here you go, miss."

"McKenna, he was heading out to the campgrounds," one of the men called to her.

"Okay, thanks."

Jessie heard the door close and breathed a sigh of relief. She knew she would have to see Chris sooner or later, but she hoped that meeting could be held in private. After all, the last time Jessie had seen her, they had been on the ledge, Chris wanting to make love to her, and she wanting... well, some sort of punishment.

Chapter Twenty-seven

Two mornings later, Sunday, Jessie was jogging on her way to Elk Meadow when Chris's Jeep passed her. Jessie thought she was going to keep going, but at last she stopped, her arm hanging out the unzipped window.

Jessie's heart pounded in her ears and she knew it wasn't from running. She was nervous. She walked the last few feet to the Jeep.

"Hello, McKenna."

"Jessie. Or are you Jennifer again?"

Well, she deserved that.

"I'm Jessie to you," she said quietly.

"Mary Ruth said you were back but I wasn't sure I believed her." She arched an eyebrow at her. "What are you doing here this time?"

Ah, she deserved that, too.

"I want to see Annie," Jessie said. "Did you tell her I was here?"

Chris shook her head. "No. I want no part of it."

Jessie ran a hand through her short hair, wondering how she could possibly begin to apologize to Chris. She knew it couldn't be done in the middle of the road.

"Can we get together and talk? I need to apologize and to... explain," she said.

Chris's blue eyes were cool as they met hers.

"No. I don't think so, Jessie. Like you said, you warned me. It just took me awhile to catch on."

Chris gave a humorless smile. And she deserved that, too.

"I can explain," she said quietly.

"I'm sure you can. But I don't want to play."

With that, Chris drove off. Apparently, she had not forgotten or forgiven her.

Chris drove to die Rock House, her hands gripping the steering wheel hard. She thought she had forgotten the hurt and humiliation, but she hadn't. It had been two months and she had tried to put Jessie Stone, the Jessie Stone that she knew, from her mind. But here Jessie was, as if no time had passed at all. She could explain? Sure she could. But Chris was torn. Something had happened that night. The Jessie that she was getting to know was not the Jessie that she found on the ledge. And yes, she wanted an explanation. She deserved an explanation.

She parked beside Roger's old truck, debating whether to tell Roger that Jessie was back. The cafe was crowded for Sunday breakfast and she joined Roger and Ellen at a booth.

"Morning, McKenna," Roger said over the top of his newspaper.

"Hi." She pushed the newspaper down. "Don't be rude, Roger. I have to look at that newspaper every day of the week. Can't you make an exception on Sunday?"

"Can't a man read the Sunday sports page without you women complaining?" But he folded the paper and put it beside him.

"How do you put up with him?" Chris asked Ellen.

"He has his quirks, but he has his good points, too," Ellen said.

Donna brought over coffee for Chris and refilled Roger's and Ellen's cups. "Everyone want the usual?"

"I'll need extra hash browns," Roger said. "You know how McKenna steals mine."

Chris ignored him, knowing it was true. She sipped from her coffee, then decided to confide.

"Guess who I ran into this morning?"

Roger shrugged with eyebrows raised.

"Jessie Stone."

"You're joking. She's back?"

"Apparently. I didn't hang around to talk, but she says she's here to see Annie."

"You should go warn her, McKenna."

"Me? Why me? Why not you?"

"Because you're the only one who's talked to Jessie Stone, McKenna. Remember, you became friends with her," he said.

"Is that what I called it?" She still felt a stab whenever she thought of that night on the ledge. She was still pissed off, she knew, but to think that the desire and passion she had felt had not been returned, that it had only been staged, had hit her where it hurt most. Her ego. She wanted to tell herself that the sexual attraction she felt for Jessie was simply a crush on a damn picture, but she knew it wasn't. She had gotten to know her, as much as Jessie would allow, anyway. And she liked her. And that night on the mountain, when they had gone camping, when they had kissed and touched each other in the moonlight, that was not the same Jessie that had used her that night on the ledge. That's the Jessie she wanted to get to know. That's the Jessie that sent her blood boiling. Not the stranger that she found on the ledge with an empty bottle of wine.

"I really wish I knew Annie Stone like you two," Ellen said. "She's just the 'hermit lady' to me."

"She's a wonderful woman, Ellen. She's got a spirit that I can only hope to have at her age. After everything that has happened to her, she's still not broken," Chris said.

"No," Roger agreed. "She's a tough old broad."

After their leisurely Sunday breakfast, Chris headed back to her cabin, hoping to sit on the back porch and read, maybe let Dillon chase chipmunks for awhile. She wanted to sit and relax and enjoy the sunshine while it lasted. It had been a hectic few weeks and she wanted to take advantage of the down time. On the drive, she noticed the storm clouds building in the west and remembered Roger's warning that they might get their first real snowfall of the season. Well, relaxing by a fire was just as appealing. And on that note, she was glad she had taken a day to drive to Yosemite to collect her winter clothes.

By the time she stopped in front of her cabin, the clouds had blocked out the sun and a cool breeze was blowing through the trees. She slammed the Jeep door and looked out at the sky, watching the clouds stream by overhead. The wind seemed to be picking up speed by the second and the pine trees swayed under its force. Firewood. She had not brought any up on the porch yet. The weather had just been too nice to worry about a fire. If it was a major storm, her neatly stacked pile would be buried by morning.

Jessie stood watching from the cover of the woods as Chris brought armloads of firewood to her porch. She moved with efficient grace and Jessie was drawn to her, like she had been that very first day when she'd looked into her sky-blue eyes. She wanted to remember that night up by the falls, when Chris had kissed her so passionately, so tenderly. That night when she had wanted to lie down on the forest floor and make love with this woman. Instead, the memory of their last night together came rushing at her and she tried to push it away, as she had been doing for the last eight weeks. Chris had been so gentle, so caring. Jessie had needed someone that night, yes. But she wanted to hurt. The feelings that Chris brought out had little to do with pain. Making love with Chris would have solved little in her quest to purge herself of her father and his hold over her. She wanted to feel pain and anguish. And she did. Only she had transferred that pain and hurt onto Chris and that was very unfair. Chris had offered her consolation that night and Jessie had taken it and run.

She couldn't blame Chris for the way she had treated her this morning. She deserved it, she knew. But that made it so much harder to face her now, and face her she must. She had to apologize, she had to explain. She needed Chris. She needed her to be the bridge to Annie. Jessie knew she could never face Annie alone.

She watched Chris carry split logs up on the porch and drop them beside the back door, then disappear around the cabin for more. Jessie looked up at the sky and wondered if snow was on the way. She had not bothered with a radio since she had been back and knew nothing of the weather. The dark clouds gathered quickly overhead and she felt the wind whip at her hair. She stayed where she was until Chris finally went inside the cabin, then she pushed away from the cedar she was leaning against and made her way to the cabin.

Her palms were sweating by the time she reached the back porch and she rubbed them against her jeans, cursing her nervousness. She took a deep breath before climbing the few wooden steps and stood silently on the porch. She saw through the window that Chris was laying newspaper, then twigs and pinecones in the fireplace, in anticipation of a later fire. She hesitated only a second before knocking lightly on the door.

Chris knew who it was without looking. No one ever used her back door. She turned and their eyes met through the small window in the door. She wasn't ready to face her, she knew. She hadn't had time to sort out her feelings, now that Jessie was back. She stood from her crouch by the fireplace and walked slowly to the door, her eyes never leaving Jessie's.

She opened the door and stood there, blocking the way inside. Jessie had a sudden fear that Chris would refuse to let her in, would refuse to see her. But, after a few seconds, Chris stepped aside and motioned her in. Jessie looked around the cabin, nearly identical to her own. Her eyes were drawn to the painting over the fireplace. Sierra Peak. She would recognize it anywhere.

Chris stood patiently and Jessie finally brought her eyes back to the woman before her. But Chris's face was still hard, eyes still cold.

"Like I said earlier, McKenna, I want to apologize and explain what happened," Jessie said.

"And like I said, I don't really care."

Jessie took a step closer, bravely standing within a few feet of her.

"But the problem with that, McKenna, is that I know you do care." Jessie shrugged and walked over to the sofa and sat without being invited. "We're going to talk so you might as well sit down."

"Look, whatever it is you feel you need to say, forget it. I have."

"No you haven't, Chris. And neither have I."

Chris opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again. This woman left here two months ago without so much as a hint of an explanation and now, she wanted to explain, as if it had been only yesterday.

"Chris, please?" Jessie asked quietly. "I need to explain. I need to tell you what happened. Please?"

Chris finally dared to look into the dark eyes that had been haunting her for two months.

"You're right," she said. "Despite what happened that night, what you made me do up there on that ledge, I do still care. I wish to God I didn't."

"I know. I'm so sorry, Chris. I never meant to hurt you."

"I didn't deserve that," Chris said quietly.

"God, I know. You don't know how many times I've cursed myself for what happened, for what I wanted to happen. I didn't want to make love with you. I haven't been able to make love with anyone. It's always been just sex."

"I don't play that way," Chris said.

"I know. But it was the only game I knew." She patted the sofa beside her. "Please, sit down."

Chris reluctantly moved beside her, settling in the corner of the sofa and facing Jessie, waiting.

For the second time, Jessie was about to confess to someone about her father, about what he had done. Somehow, it was more difficult telling Chris than confiding in Dr. Davies. She didn't want Chris to think any less of her, she didn't want Chris to judge her. It hadn't been her fault, she knew that, but still, people's reactions could be so different. And she didn't want Chris to think she was tainted in some way, even though Jessie thought that herself.

"That night, out on the ledge, when I was by myself, I had a... revelation, I guess. Finally, all of the missing pieces came together. Jack, he... he abused me. Sexually," she whispered.

Chris slammed her eyes shut. She had suspected, of course. But to have Jessie whisper the words, to hear her pain, made it all so real. And she felt anger bubble up for this man she had never met, but whose actions had affected two women to whom she had grown close.

"Please say something," Jessie whispered.

"Should I say I'm sorry?" Chris asked. "That seems so trivial." Chris reached across the sofa and took Jessie's hand. "I was afraid it was true. Even before I met you, just listening to Roger and Annie tell me about your childhood, it just sounded too strange."

"You knew? Did... did Annie?"

Chris shook her head. "I asked her once if she thought it could have happened. She didn't. Jack had so many women, so many affairs," Chris said. "I think Annie feels like Jack took you away from her as punishment or something." Chris squeezed Jessie's hand tightly. "But I am very, very sorry."

"Me, too. He took away my childhood, my mother." She shrugged. "My life."

"It's not too late, Jessie."

"I hope not. I want to see her. My therapist thinks I'm rushing things, though. I don't think she really believes I've accepted this." Jessie met Chris's eyes, now so different. The coolness was gone and warmth had again taken its place. "That night, when it all came back to me, do you know how close I came to just jumping into that damn canyon?"

"No."

"But then, he would win. He would win all over again. So I just sat there and let it all come, even though I didn't want it to. I just wanted it to go away. I cried and cried. And I felt so ashamed. And when you found me, you offered me comfort. But I didn't feel like I deserved that from you. I didn't deserve to be cared for."

"So you did the one thing that would push me away?" Chris asked softly.

Jessie nodded. "It was all I was used to."

"It doesn't have to be that way, Jessie. You shouldn't feel ashamed for something that someone else did."

"I know."

Jessie stared at the painting of Sierra Peak, drawing comfort from it, much like she did from her own painting all these years.

"I like it," Jessie said, motioning to the painting. "It's Sierra Peak, right?"

"Yes."

"Local artist?"

"Very." Then Chris smiled. "Annie gave that to me."

"She paints?"

"A hobby, but I think she's quite good."

Jessie stood up and walked to the painting, studying it. The detail was very good, the colors perfect. Yes, it was quite good. She turned back to Chris.

"You know so much about her. Do you think she would be receptive to seeing me?"

Chris laughed. "Are you kidding?"

"I wasn't exactly a good daughter, you know. And I think my parting words to her were... well, something about her dying," Jessie admitted. "Why didn't you tell her that I was here?"

"I didn't... I didn't want to hurt her. Besides, you had already left. What good would it have done to tell her then?"

"And now?"

"Let's just say it'll be a damn shock to her. Jessie, she never gave up hope that you might some day come back into her life. She's told me as much. But there's a lot between you, a lot that you don't know about each other. And you have resentment to work through. Resentment on both your parts. Annie won't admit it, but I'm sure she resents you in some small way for her failed marriage. You know, you came along and took Jack away from her."

"But I never..."

"No, I didn't mean it was intentional. Hell, I'm just talking here, Jessie. I just want you to be prepared. Don't think you're going to waltz in there and everything's going to be fine."

"McKenna, I know it's not going to be easy." Jessie reached out and grasped Chris's arm. "I'm just thankful you're still talking to me," she said. "If I were you, I would have probably thrown me out by now."

Chris shook her head. "No, you wouldn't."

"You should hate me for what I did to you," Jessie stated.

"Probably," Chris said quietly. "But I'm not really one to dwell on the past."

"Will you take me to see Annie?"

"I'll call her. But you know she's going to be really pissed off at me," Chris said.

"For not telling her in August?" Jessie asked.

"Yeah. This is going to be a shock to her, Jessie."

Jessie watched as Chris grabbed her cell phone and pushed the numbers quickly, as if she dialed them often.

"Annie, it's me," Chris said. She moved away from Jessie, wanting a little privacy as she spoke to Annie.

"Chris, hello. I was just watching the weather. We're getting a storm tonight, maybe twelve inches in the mountains."

"Did you get that firewood delivered?" she asked.

"Yes, I did, and the boys stacked it neatly by the house. Thank you."

"Well, I'll help you bring some inside." She glanced at Jessie, who was sitting on the sofa, trying to listen. "Do you feel like company?"

"I would love to see you, Chris. Dinner?"

"No, not dinner. I won't bother you with that. Actually, I have... a friend here that wants to meet you, is all," she said, glancing at Jessie.

"Someone wants to meet me? Oh, Chris, what have you been telling them?"

"Nothing like that, Annie. It's someone I want you to meet."

"Well, then come on over. Hopefully the storm won't catch you."

"Thanks. We'll be over later. And Annie? Get out a good bottle of wine." She disconnected, then stared at the phone in her hand. "You're going to need it," she murmured.

Jessie smiled, having heard most of the conversation. She wondered how Annie would react to her. For that matter, she wondered how she would react to Annie. She had spent the last sixteen years hating her. Could she get past that?

Chris watched Jessie, seeing the different emotions cross her face and the color drain from her face.

"What's wrong?" she asked before she could stop herself. She didn't want to care about her, but she was finding it difficult keeping her distance.

"I think I'm terrified of seeing her, Chris."

Chris nodded. What could she say to that?

Jessie stood, walking slowly to Chris and grasping her arms.

"Thank you for doing this," she said.

Chris tried to pull away. She was doing this for Annie, she told herself. But Jessie's hands wouldn't release her.

"Don't hate me," Jessie whispered. "Please?"

"I don't hate you, Jessie. But I'm doing this for Annie, not for you. It has nothing to do with what happened between the two of us."

Jessie dropped her hands.

"Well, McKenna, I'm glad to see my actions that night haven't affected you." Her voice was hard, Jessie knew, but she wasn't used to apologizing. And she certainly wasn't used to needing people.

Chris watched her withdraw, but she refused to take back her words. Yes, it still hurt when she thought about that night and she wasn't ready to forgive.

Chapter Twenty-eight

The wind was biting when they stepped outside and Chris grabbed her coat from beside the door. The clouds hung low over the trees, promising snow, and she saw Jessie pull the collar of her own coat around her ears.

They drove in silence, Chris occasionally glancing at Jessie who was wringing her hands together nervously. She finally shoved them both between her legs.

"What's wrong?"

"Hell, I'm nervous, McKenna. What do you think?"

Chris was nervous, too. This was a hell of a thing to pull on Annie, and Chris had no idea what her reaction would be. Chris wouldn't be a bit surprised if Annie fainted straight away.

She parked in her usual spot and cut the engine, both of them staring out towards the house.

"Come on," Chris said. "It'll be fine."

Jessie followed her up the steps that were once so familiar to her. She remembered countless times running up them, two at a time. She looked at the front door and watched as Chris raised her hand to knock, wondering why she suddenly wanted to pull that hand back and turn around and leave. She wasn't ready. She didn't know if she would ever be ready.

"Annie?" Chris called as she opened the door.

"Come in, dear. I'll be right there."

Chris met Jessie's eyes before walking inside. She could see the tension and worry in them, and she offered a small smile. "You'll be fine," she whispered.

They walked in and Jessie was practically hiding behind Chris. She knew she wasn't mentally prepared for this, and she wanted to turn and run when she heard footsteps coming from the back room. The room that used to be Jack's study. She looked around quickly, seeing a few familiar things, but not much. The room had been redecorated, thankfully. It hardly looked like the house of her childhood.

"Well, Chris, I was surprised to hear from you today," Annie said and Chris bent to kiss her cheek.

"Hi Annie."

She stepped aside then and motioned to Jessie, who was still standing behind her.

"Oh, dear God in heaven," Annie whispered. Her hand clutched at her chest and she grabbed Chris's arm to steady herself. Her eyes flew to Chris. "Where did you find her?" she asked, her eyes darting between Chris and Jessie.

"Well, she kinda found me," Chris said.

Jessie stood there, speechless. The old, grieving woman she expected was nowhere to be found. Annie looked younger now than she had sixteen years ago. Her eyes were bright and sparkling, no longer the dull blue that Jessie remembered. She stood straight and there was a grace to her walk, not the slow, tired shuffle that she recalled hearing. She raised her head, but she couldn't bring herself to meet Annie's eyes.

"Jessie?"

Jessie looked up at Chris, trying to draw strength.

"This is Annie," Chris finally said.

Jessie at last met the eyes of her mother, clear and blue. She attempted a small smile and nodded.

"Why don't we sit down?" Chris said, leading Annie into the living room. She glanced back over her shoulder and motioned for Jessie to follow. She whispered to Annie then. "Are you okay?"

"Of course I'm not okay," she said quietly.

Annie sat on the sofa and Jessie took an armchair. Chris stood between them, looking from one to the other. She shook her head, then bit her bottom lip. It wasn't supposed to be like this. They weren't even looking at each other, much less talking. She went into the kitchen and found the bottle of wine and brought it back with three glasses. Annie seemed to have recovered from her shock a little by then.

"For so long I've wished for you to walk through that door, though I never thought that you actually would. Now that you have, I'm speechless." Annie looked at Jessie when she spoke, but Jessie's eyes were staring at her clenched hands. Annie saw the relief in them when Chris returned. "Now, maybe you'll tell me how you two know each other," she said, looking at Chris for an answer.

Chris raised her eyebrows questioningly, then glanced at Jessie.

Jessie cleared her throat, then turned pleading eyes to Chris. "Do you mind?"

"I don't believe this," Chris muttered under her breath. She sat down next to Annie and handed her a glass of wine. "Drink up," she said and touched Annie's glass with her own. They all took a long swallow and Chris refilled their glasses again, wondering where to begin. At the beginning, she supposed.

"Annie, I first met Jessie in August," she said.

"August? And you didn't tell me?"

Chris ignored her question, but shot an "I told you so" look at Jessie.

"She said some pretty awful things about you then and I guess I took up for you and told her some things that she either didn't remember or didn't know. Then we sort of had an argument and she left. Anyway, she came back to see you, to talk, so I brought her." She spread her hands out. "Is that brief enough?" she asked Jessie.

"Any more brief and no one would have followed you," Jessie murmured. "Including me."

Annie saw Chris's quick smile and wondered how well they knew each other. There was a familiarity between them, yet it couldn't be. Surely Chris would not have kept this a secret from her.

"Look, I'm going to leave you two alone, okay?"

"No!" they said in unison, then looked at each other for the first time.

"I mean... there's no need, Chris," Annie said. Truthfully, she was afraid to be alone with Jessie. She remembered the last words Jessie had spoken to her all those years ago.

"Really, please stay," Jessie said, her dark eyes again pleading.

"I just think, if you're going to talk, it really doesn't concern me, is all."

"Oh, bullshit," Annie said, slapping her knee. "You already know all the family secrets anyway." She looked at Jessie then. "That is what you want to talk about, isn't it?"

"I just... I just wanted to see you. To talk. To ask some questions," Jessie managed. Never in her life had she been short of words. She was always in control of every situation. Always. Only now, for some reason, she couldn't seem to voice her thoughts. She swallowed down her nervousness and looked to Chris for reassurance. She was surprised at the warmth in Chris's eyes.

"Annie, she doesn't remember... much of her childhood. Or she didn't."

"You don't remember what?" Annie asked.

Jessie closed her eyes. She wasn't ready for this. Dr. Davies had been right. She was rushing things. She wanted to bolt from the room rather than tell this woman, this stranger, what her father had done to her. Then warm hands settled on her shoulders and squeezed lightly and she let out her breath. When she opened her eyes, Annie was looking at Chris whose hands still rested on her shoulders.

"Listen, why don't you come back tomorrow for lunch," Annie suggested. "That'll give us both time to get used to this. We'll talk then."

Jessie finally recovered, knowing she had been given a reprieve. "I'm sure this is a shock to you," she said. "It's a shock to me, too," she admitted. "I never thought I would see you again, or at any rate, talk to you. Especially after the way that I left."

"Yes," Annie nodded. Then she smiled. "I guess that's why the mother is always the first one killed off."

Jessie's eyes widened. "You've read them?"

"Oh, yes. Every word." She looked up at Chris who still stood behind Jessie with hands resting lightly on her shoulders. "Better take her back now, Chris."

"Okay. Do you need anything?"

"Oh, no. I'm fine. I'm sure I'll have the rest of that wine, though," she said with a laugh.

They were nearly to the door before Annie called to them.

"You've grown into a beautiful woman, Jessie."

Jessie smiled at her, but said nothing. They shut the door and Jessie let out a long breath. They both looked at the sky, then hurried to the Jeep as snow flurries fell around them.

"It's freezing," Jessie said and slammed the door.

Chris started the engine and turned the heater on. She turned to Jessie who was still looking out the window towards the house.

"Are you okay?"

"She's not what I expected."

"What do you mean?"

"She's prettier than I remembered. She looks younger, even. She used to look so tired all the time, she used to walk so slowly around the house." She turned back and faced Chris. "Thank you for staying, for being there. I know you only did it for Annie but I was glad you were there."

Chris cringed at her earlier words, knowing they were a lie. She didn't only do it for Annie. She wanted to explain to Jessie, but now wasn't the time.

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm not very good at apologies... or thank you's," Jessie continued. "Sincere ones, anyway."

"You don't owe me explanations, Jessie."

"Of course I do. If I'd never met you, I wouldn't be here today. I'd have run back to New York and stayed. And continued with my so-called life."

"What about tomorrow? Will you be okay?"

"I think so. She's right. We both need some time."

"Annie is a fine lady, Jessie. Give her a chance."

Jessie met her eyes and did not look away. "I hope she gives me a chance. I'm the one who left. I'm the one who practically threatened her life when I left."

Chris drove away finally, not knowing what else to say. They were silent on the return trip and Chris drove to Jessie's cabin, parking beside the rental car, this time a four-wheel-drive SUV.

"Thank you again, Chris. I do appreciate it."

"No problem," Chris said.

"Do you want to come in?"

Their eyes met briefly, then Chris looked away.

"No. I've got some stuff to do," Chris said. She tapped the steering wheel lightly with her thumbs.

"Okay, McKenna. Maybe some other time?"

Jessie made no move to get out. She didn't want to be alone, but she wasn't going to beg Chris to stay.

"Supposed to snow tonight. Do you have any firewood?" Chris asked.

"There's a little on the porch. I guess Mary Ruth had some put there."

"The lodge sells it, if you need more. And I've got plenty. You're welcome to some of that," Chris offered.

"Thanks."

"Well, listen, I need to get going," Chris said again.

"Of course." Jessie opened the door and stepped out into the cold.

Chris raised one hand as she drove away. She knew Jessie wanted her to stay and she had been tempted. But she was worried about Annie. She drove straight back to her house and went in after a light knock.

Annie was still sitting on the sofa, her wineglass full. She raised startled eyes to Chris, then patted the sofa next to her. Chris sat down obediently.

"Explain," Annie said softly.

"I'm so sorry," Chris said.

"Oh, please." Annie dismissed her apology with a wave of her hand. "You came back, like I knew you would." She took her hand and squeezed it. "I know you care about me, Chris. And I know you wouldn't intentionally do something to hurt me. Now, tell me about August."

"I ran into her up on Ridge Trail. I recognized her immediately from the pictures on her books, but I didn't say anything. She was using a phony name. Jennifer Parker. I wanted to tell you, Annie, but I didn't know what to say. I wasn't sure she was here to see you and I certainly didn't know what to make of the fake name."

"How long was she here?"

"A couple of weeks, I guess. Maybe three. I don't know how long she was here before I ran into her. We got to know each other a little, had dinner a couple of times. I took her on an overnight backpacking trip and I finally told her that I knew who she was."

"And?"

"And I think maybe Jessie should tell you the rest," Chris said.

Annie studied her for the longest time, finally looking away and sipping from her wine.

"You said she didn't remember her childhood," Annie reminded her.

"She's been seeing a therapist, apparently several different therapists, for awhile now, I guess. I think because she didn't remember, her therapist suggested she come back here." Chris bit her lip, wondering how much to tell Annie. It really wasn't her place to talk about Jack. If Jessie wanted to confess to Annie, that was one thing. But Chris wasn't going to be the one to bring all that to light.

Again Annie watched her.

"There's something you're not telling me."

Chris shook her head.

"I found her up on Ridge Trail that last night she was here, same ledge that Jack fell from. She was just sitting there alone with a blanket and a bottle of wine," she said.

"Dear God, she wasn't going to jump?"

"No, Annie. But she had been crying when I found her and we... talked some. That's the last time I saw her. Until today. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you, Annie, but she was already gone. What good would it have done then?"

"Chris, it's okay. I'm not angry with you," she said. She filled their wineglasses again. "I guess I'm still in shock. I really never expected to see her again, much less talk to her. She has changed, though. She looks softer, somehow. She was a very bitter teen. And her books are so dark, even her picture on the back. But the woman I saw today wasn't the same woman in the pictures."

"No. I think maybe that woman is gone," Chris said. "But she has a lot to talk about, Annie. And she may say some things that you don't want to hear."

Annie reached over and patted Chris's knee.

"I'll be fine. I just don't want to end up in one of her books, you know?"

Chris laughed, then stopped when she realized Annie was serious.

She left a short time later, after hauling enough logs inside for a couple of fires and stacking more on the back deck. The snow was still light, barely sticking, but the temperature had dropped into the twenties already and the wind howled through the trees as she walked to her Jeep. Snow by morning, for sure.

Chapter Twenty-nine

Jessie rolled over and glanced at the clock. Nine-twenty already. She closed her eyes and pulled the covers to her chin, trying to ward off die chill that had settled in the cabin. She could not get to sleep the night before and only after drinking an entire bottle of wine did sleep come. Her thoughts alternated between Annie and Chris. She should feel relieved that she was finally going to talk to Annie, to get everything out in the open, but she couldn't get Chris off her mind. The attraction she felt for Chris was completely foreign to her and she didn't know exactly what to do about it. But did it matter? Any feelings that Chris may have had for her were surely killed that night on the ledge. Anyway, it was probably best left alone. Who knew what was going to happen? Even if she and Annie talked and cleared the air, then what? She would most likely return to New York and her empty apartment and try to make a life there. But she didn't want to go to New York. She didn't belong there. She wasn't certain she belonged anywhere.

She suddenly remembered the snowfall of the night before. She threw off the blankets and hurried to the window and the sight outside her bedroom took her breath away. How many years since she'd seen anything this beautiful? Branches heavy with snow drooped to the ground, shining bright in the sunlight. Yesterday's wind had stilled and the only sound came from the melting snow as it fell from the trees. A squirrel scampered over die blanket of white and up the cedar tree next to the cabin. She again wished she had a feeder there.

She closed the blinds, conscious of the smile on her face. She didn't bother with clothes, she simply pulled the robe tighter and hurried out the door. She grabbed a handful of snow and brought it to her mouth, laughing out loud as she bit down. She tossed the snow down and looked around, taking in deep breaths of the cold mountain air. Beautiful.

She went back in and showered, then had a bowl of cereal with her coffee. She wished she had gone to the lodge for more firewood, or at least taken Chris up on her offer. She had enough wood left for a small fire this morning, but it wouldn't last long. She made a mental note to pick some up when she was out. Before long, she heard snowplows and knew they would be clearing the side roads as soon as the county roads were done. She was again glad she had rented a four-wheel drive. If a major storm were to hit, they would be unable to keep the roads clear for long.

Jessie broke off the end of a loaf of French bread and scattered it near the cabin so she could watch the jays bicker over it. She settled back on the sofa, an unopened book lying beside her, and watched as a squirrel came up and fought with the jays over the last few remaining bread crumbs. She intended to read and try to relax some before meeting Annie, but an hour later, the book still lay unopened.

It was Chris. She wanted to call her. She still had her cell number. Jessie thought she could call on the pretense that she needed reassurance before she saw Annie. Actually, she just wanted to see her and she hated the fact that the woman had gotten under her skin. She rolled her eyes. This she was not used to. If there was one thing she was used to, though, it was being alone. And she did that very well. Or so she thought.

"Get over it," she said aloud. "McKenna doesn't need you in her life." And she didn't need McKenna, she firmly told herself.

She wore one of the new sweaters that she had bought in New York on her last shopping expedition. She owned little that was suitable for fall or winter in the mountains, so she had spent two whole days buying jeans and sweaters and sweatsuits and even wool socks for hiking. She didn't bother with makeup. Even in the city, she rarely wore much, if any. She brushed her dark hair, then fluffed it in front with her fingers. She met her eyes in the mirror and knew she was nervous. Yesterday, Chris had been there but today, they would have no buffer.

Annie was waiting nervously for the knock on her door. She had decided on a thick vegetable stew for their lunch and she had spent the morning chopping vegetables, trying to keep busy. She had debated whether or not to serve wine with their meal, then decided she might need it after all. She selected one of her favorites from the rack in the basement and it was sitting on the counter, waiting. She was thankful Chris had brought wood up for her. She had not bothered with a fire last night, but this morning, it had helped calm her. She still couldn't believe that, after all these years, Jessie was going to walk through that door. She almost wished that she had insisted Chris join them but knew they needed this time alone. Whatever had compelled Jessie to seek her out, it had nothing to do with Chris and everything to do with Jack, most likely.

The light knock on the door brought her around quickly and she stared at the door for several seconds, unable to make her feet move.

Jessie knocked a second time before she heard footsteps approach. Was Annie nervous, too, she wondered? She took a deep breath and let it out slowly as the door opened and Annie stood there, an uncertain smile on her face.

"Jessie. Come in."

"Hello, Annie."

Jessie stepped inside, pausing beside Annie, who stood several inches shorter than she did. There was a pleasant smell coming from the kitchen and a warm fire welcomed her into the living room.

"Please, sit down. The stew is nearly ready. Just let me put the bread in the oven."

Annie hurried into the kitchen, leaving Jessie standing by the fire. She looked around at the paintings on the wall and some that were stacked in a corner. She hadn't noticed them yesterday, but they were all very good and they all had Annie's name slashed on the bottom. She was very talented for it to be just a hobby.

"Don't look too closely," Annie said as she returned with a glass of wine for Jessie.

Jessie accepted the glass despite the protest of her stomach and the memory of the slight headache she had this morning. "I think they're very good," she said, motioning to the paintings.

"Chris thinks so, too, but it's just a hobby," she said, dismissing the compliment.

"When did you start painting?" Jessie asked.

"Oh, I always dabbled, just with charcoal at first. I guess you were probably five when I started with paint."

"I never knew that."

"No, I don't suppose you did," Annie said quietly. They stared at each other for a moment, then Annie looked away. That wasn't fair, she thought.

The old Jessie would have lashed out, but she held her tongue. That would be no way for them to start.

"I like the one you gave Chris. Sierra Peak."

"Oh, that fool! She hung it where everyone could see," Annie said.

Jessie noticed her discomfort and thought she was embarrassed over her paintings. Well, you're always your own worst critic.

"I was actually going to ask you for one for myself," she said, surprising even herself with that admission. "I suppose you find that hard to believe, after the way I left here, after what I said to you on that last day."

"Yes," Annie nodded. "I hope you're not here to carry out your threat."

"I'm really sorry I said that," Jessie said softly. She sank onto the sofa, taking her wineglass with her. She was thankful she had it now.

"Jessie, you don't have to apologize. You were a child. It was as much my fault as anyone's."

Jessie shook her head. "You were never around. Jack said it was because you didn't care about us. He said you didn't like it here in the mountains, that was why you never went with us."

It was Annie's turn to shake her head. "I wouldn't have stayed here all these years if I didn't like it. From the first day he brought me here, I knew I had come home," she said.

"So it's true what Chris said? Jack wouldn't allow you to come with us?"

"Jack loved you very much, Jessie. I think he just wanted you all to himself."

"Why did you let him?"

"Jack was a strong man, Jessie. He could be very persuasive," Annie said, meeting Jessie's dark eyes, so much like her father's.

"He hit you?" she asked, her words barely more than a whisper.

Annie was about to deny it. She had never told Roger and certainly not Chris. But what good would denying it do? If they were here to talk about the past, no sense beginning that with a lie.

"A few times," she admitted. "But I was a very quick learner," she said, a touch of the old bitterness returning. She saw Jessie pale and wondered what thoughts were going through her mind. "He never hit you, did he?" she asked quickly.

"He never hit me, no." She raised her eyes to Annie. "Why did he hit you?"

"Why? I didn't obey him, I guess. The first time was when I tried to breast feed and he insisted I use a bottle. Then again, once, when I took you to Sacramento with me shopping. You were barely two, I think. We were late getting back and he was worried, I guess. The last time he hit me was when I took you out walking on one of the trails. You were, I don't know, four or five. He told me that I was never to take you out again. That was his job to take you out." She stared into the fire. After all these years, she didn't think that it would be so hard for her to remember, but she still felt the pain that she endured as a young mother.

"I'm sorry I didn't stand up to him, Jessie. But by that time, you were following him everywhere and it didn't seem to matter to you, anyway."

Jessie couldn't meet her eyes and she, too, looked into the fire.

"I don't have any memories of you ever doing anything with me. Was that the last time?"

"Oh, yes," Annie nodded. "After that, he started getting you ready for school, tucking you in at night and taking you with him every chance he got. I was here to cook and clean and do laundry. It was around that time that we stopped sleeping together and he moved into the spare room."

"He had... other lovers?"

"He had women, yes. But it wasn't like we had been intimate, Jessie. We hadn't... slept together in years."

Annie got up suddenly and went into the kitchen. She'd had enough talk of Jack for the moment and she found it very uncomfortable talking this way in front of Jessie, who was practically a stranger to her. She could confide in Chris without worrying about her reaction. But Annie wondered if Jessie, subconsciously or on some deep level, might believe she was lying about Jack. He was dead and his story buried with him.

"Annie?" Jessie followed her into the kitchen and she watched now as Annie's trembling hand poured more wine.

"I just needed to check on the bread," she lied.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come here and talk about him, really," Jessie said.

"Yes, you did, Jessie. We need to talk about him. He's all we have between us," Annie said. "And you probably think I'm lying about all of this. To you, he was a wonderful man. Unfortunately, I never got to see that side of him." She turned and lifted the lid on the pot and stirred. "Well, I shouldn't say never. He was very nice to me when we were courting and when we first got married. But that was so long ago, Jessie."

"Why didn't you ever talk to me about all of this?"

"Oh, Jessie, you were too young at the beginning to understand. Then, later, well, you idolized your father. There was nothing I could say then. You would never have believed me."

"Why did you stay with him? Why didn't you leave?"

Annie turned and met her eyes. They were open and trusting, so she let the words come.

"I was afraid... for you," she said quietly.

"For me?"

"Jack had an unnatural interest in you, Jessie. And as you got older, I was so afraid he would... abuse you."

"Sexually?" Jessie whispered.

"Yes. And I couldn't leave you. I didn't know if you would come to me for help, but if you needed someone, who else would you go to?"

Jessie felt her eyes prick with tears and she tried to blink them back, but they came anyway. Annie had been here for her and Jessie never knew it. Sobs shook her shoulders as she remembered his words. "It'll be our little secret. You’re my best girl."

"What is it, child?" Annie walked to her and grabbed her shoulders. "What?"

"He did," Jessie stammered between her tears.

"He did what?"

"He..."

Annie stared at her, realization dawning of what she was trying to say.

"Oh, no, Jessie," Annie whispered. She took the crying woman into her arms, the woman who was her daughter, and held her. "Oh, no."

Jessie leaned into the comfort of her arms, then just as quickly pulled away. She wiped at the tears on her face, unable to meet Annie's eyes. She had to finish. If she didn't get it out now, then when?

"I blamed you," she said. "Jack said you weren't there for him and I believed him. And I resented you for what he was doing to me but, I couldn't make him stop. And so I just blocked it out. And when he died, I had to get away from you, from here. I hated you so much," she whispered. "So I ran. I ran from my life here and I buried all of that away and pretended that it never happened. And then it didn't happen. I didn't remember it anymore. I was ten," she said. "That's the last time I remember being a kid. After that..."

Annie tried to hold her tears back, but she couldn't. That bastard! She tried to reach out to Jessie, but Jessie moved away.

"No. Let me finish," she said. "I need to finish."

Annie nodded, unable to speak.

"I was never able to let anyone get close to me. I didn't have friends. Even in college, I was always alone. And sex became a game to me. It wasn't for pleasure, not mine or theirs. It was an act performed as some sort of ritual, I think. Over the years, it became that, anyway. But I didn't really know why. I started seeing a therapist after college and that's when I realized that I couldn't remember anything anymore. All I held on to was my hate and resentment for you. And the only reason I could come up with was that I blamed you for his death. I always had my memories of my childhood and they were happy and he was there. But you never were. I've seen six or seven therapists over the years and none of them could help me. When Dr. Davies suggested I come back here and see you and maybe find answers, I couldn't deny that I wanted to come back. I so badly wanted my life back.

"I met Chris out on Ridge Trail. We became... friends. She knew that I couldn't remember. She said some things about you, told me some things that you had told her, and bits and pieces started coming back. But Annie, I didn't want them to come back. Not when I realized what it might be. But they came and I remembered everything and I just wanted... to die."

"Jessie ..."

"And when I remembered, I couldn't stay here another minute. I had to get away."

Annie didn't know what to say, so she said nothing. She just watched this woman with tears in her eyes stare back at her.

"I spent two weeks alone in my apartment. I went back over everything and I realized that I wasn't to blame and you weren't to blame. It was just him," she said quietly. "And so I had to come back to see you. To tell you why I left all those years ago."

When Annie reached out this time, Jessie didn't pull away. She cleared her throat before speaking, hoping her voice would follow.

"I'm so, so sorry. I should have realized. Maybe deep down, I..."

"No. You can't blame yourself. It was him, not you."

"Now what do we do?"

"I don't know. I honestly don't know," Jessie said. "Is it too late to start over?"

"Of course not. You can stay here with me," she said without thinking.

But Jessie shook her head.

"I don't think so, Annie. Neither of us are ready for that. I've got a cabin rented until mid-December."

"Mary Ruth's?"

"Yes."

"Is it close to Chris?"

"Yes."

"Good. She can be a good friend, Jessie. She has been to me."

"I know. I probably wouldn't be here today if I'd never met her," Jessie admitted. But she didn't know if Chris wanted to be a friend to her anymore.

"She came back here yesterday, after she took you home," Annie said. "She was worried about me."

Jessie nodded. "I thought she might."

"She told me a little about your time here in August. I think she's worried about you, too."

Jessie nodded. Maybe.

"I've had about enough for one day, Jessie. How about lunch?"

"Yes." Jessie, too, felt drained. And relieved. She had been preparing herself for this day for nearly two months and it had been easier than she thought it ever could be. Annie had simply accepted everything she had to say and expected no other explanations. They could never undo what Jack had done, but they could start fresh with each other.

"The table is already set. Just grab yourself a bowl there," she said, pointing to the two stacked on the counter.

They filled their bowls and took them into the dining room, where Annie had already placed hot French bread. Jessie had taken several bites before she realized there was no meat in the stew.

"Are you a vegetarian?"

"Yes. It'll do you good," she said, motioning to the stew.

"For how long?"

"Nearly seventeen years now," she said with a smile.

"No wonder Chris enjoys having dinner with you," Jessie said.

"Well, I like to think it's my company as well as my cooking."

"I didn't mean it like that, Annie," Jessie said quickly. "I know how Chris feels about you."

"Yes, Chris and I get along well, despite the differences in our ages. She's been very kind to me. Roger Hamilton brought her around one day. Do you remember Roger?"

"Yes. Has he been here all these years?"

"Oh, no. He went to Tahoe for awhile. Then Yellowstone. When he came back here, he looked me up. He was a lifesaver," she said.

"Chris says you don't go into town," Jessie stated.

"No. I withdrew for awhile, and it became a habit. If I needed something, I went to Sacramento or San Francisco. Then Roger came back and started bringing me groceries and I made fewer and fewer trips to the city. But it was my choice, Jessie. I've managed."

There were so many things Jessie wanted to ask, but she thought she would save that for another day. After lunch, Annie asked if she wanted to look around the house, but Jessie declined. She wasn't ready for that.

Chapter Thirty

Chris and Roger were sharing a booth at the Rock House. Chris shoved her plate away and reached for her beer instead. It had been a slow day. She and Bobby had taken their cross-country skis out, but there wasn't enough snow in most places to actually ski. The clear skies and rising temperatures had turned the snow to slush and they ended up hiking back down in their ski boots.

"If you're going to eat here, McKenna, you should just stick to potatoes. What the hell was that, anyway?"

"I don't know. I only recognized the pasta," she said.

"Maybe you could at least do chicken, McKenna."

Chris ignored him. She wasn't in the mood for his teasing tonight. Her mind was with Annie and Jessie, where it had been all day. She had picked up the phone a half dozen times to call Annie, but she convinced herself that it really wasn't any of her business. This was between Annie and Jessie. If they needed her, they knew where she was. And apparently they didn't.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing, Roger."

"You've hardly said two words tonight, McKenna. What, the snow got you down?"

"What snow? It'll be gone by tomorrow," she said.

"Yeah. Probably back to Indian Summer. Hasn't this weather been something?" he asked. "It's been decades since we've had this little snow at this time of year."

"Are you so anxious to get into winter? After what happened last year?"

"That's what you're here for," he reminded her.

They both looked up when the door opened and Roger showed his surprise as the woman approached them.

"My God, it's her," he whispered. "I can't believe it."

Jessie walked purposefully to their booth, then casually shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans.

"What the hell were you eating, McKenna?"

Chris smiled and raised her eyebrows at Jessie.

"I wish I knew." Then she moved over. "Sit down," she offered.

"Do you mind?"

"Of course not. Do you remember Roger Hamilton?" she asked as Jessie slid in next to her.

"Mr. Hamilton, it's been a long time."

"Jessie Stone," Roger said, sticking out his hand. "Your pictures don't do you justice."

Chris noticed the light blush that crept up Jessie's face, and she laughed.

"Don't give her a big head, Roger."

"Be quiet," Jessie murmured and nudged Chris with her leg.

Roger raised his hand as Martha walked by.

"A couple of beers for the ladies, please," he said.

"Ladies?" Martha asked. "That's McKenna you're talking about."

Chris endured their laughter, and she leaned her elbows on the table.

"I think she hates me," she said.

"I think she has a crush on you," Roger countered.

"Don't you have to get going?" Chris asked.

"Yes, I do," he said. Then he turned to Jessie. "I'm glad you're back. Have you seen Annie yet?"

Jessie was stunned by his question, then realized that Chris had most likely told him about this summer.

"I actually saw her today."

"Good. Well, I'll leave you two to talk, then."

"I'm sure Chris will fill you in later," Jessie said lightly.

Chris and Roger exchanged glances.

"I didn't mean..."

"It's okay," Jessie said. "Small towns and all. I'd forgotten."

"No offense," Roger said. "But you being here is big news, although I don't think anyone knows except me and Ellen," he said. "Annie's a good friend of mine."

"Yes, I know. No offense taken."

Roger hesitated, then glanced again at Chris.

"See you tomorrow, Roger," Chris said.

After Martha brought over fresh mugs, Chris turned to Jessie.

"I had to tell someone," she explained. "And it couldn't be Annie."

"It's okay. I'm not really in hiding anymore."

"How did it go today?" Chris finally asked.

"It was... good, I think. We talked about a lot of things," Jessie said.

"Did you tell her?"

"Yes. And we had a good cry." Jessie put her elbows on the table and regarded Chris. "It's funny, really. I spent so many years hating her and now I can't even muster up resentment anymore. And I think I like her."

Chris nodded, surprised at how easily Jessie had accepted what had happened to her all those years ago.

"I was actually a little worried about you two today," Chris admitted.

"Just a little?" Jessie teased.

Chris shrugged. "But I told myself that it really wasn't any of my business."

"McKenna, I know you care about Annie. She's quite fond of you, too. In fact, we talked about you some."

"Oh?"

But Jessie didn't elaborate. She sipped from her beer instead. She had gone to Chris's cabin earlier, looking for her. She thought that she wanted to talk, to tell her everything that she and Annie had discussed. That's why she had driven to the Rock House, hoping to find Chris here. But she didn't want to turn their light conversation into a heavy discussion of her life. She was talked out. She was enjoying the easy companionship that Chris was offering tonight. There wasn't even a hint of the bitterness in Chris's eyes that she'd found the other day when they saw each other.

"You know, McKenna, you know more about me and my life than anyone else. And I don't know a thing about you," Jessie said, inviting Chris to tell her a little about herself. She really just wanted to spend some normal time around her, and she wasn't blind to the attraction she felt for her. Every time their thighs brushed, she felt it. She wondered if Chris could feel it, too. She wondered if Chris would allow herself to feel it.

"There's not much. Pretty boring, really," Chris said.

"Compared to mine?" Jessie laughed.

"Especially yours."

"Tell me," Jessie encouraged.

"Life story in a nutshell, huh? Shouldn't take long," Chris said. She drank a long swallow from her draft beer and motioned to Martha for another round. She should really go home and get some rest, but the thought of going home to her empty cabin with only Dillon for company wasn't appealing. What was appealing was the woman sitting next to her. Despite her vow a few months ago that if she ever saw Jessie Stone again, it would be too soon, she found herself drawn to her once again. And this time, when Jessie's thigh pressed against her own, she didn't pull away.

"I grew up in Wyoming with one older sister," Chris began. "My parents stayed together until after I was in college. Twenty-four years of marriage down the drain."

"What happened?"

"They just didn't love each other anymore, I guess. I knew it in high school and I don't know why they waited so long to end it, but they did. Dad remarried and now lives in Chicago."

"Do you see him?"

"No. His wife doesn't approve of my lifestyle so I'm not exactly welcome there. We talk a couple of times a year, though."

"And your mother and sister? Where are they?" Jessie asked.

"Mom lives here in California... San Diego, with her current beau. She's fifty-four and he's thirty, if that tells you anything about her taste in men."

"Her current beau?"

"Well, they've been divorced, what... twelve years and I'd say he's about the fifth live-in." Chris thought about her mother, who was trying so hard to make up for all the lost years while she was married. Chris sometimes got the feeling that her mother blamed her for them staying together as long as they did. "Then there's Susan, my dear sister. I haven't talked to her since I was twenty-three."

Jessie grimaced. "Your lifestyle again?"

"Oh, yeah. Now that was a fun time. I was working at Yellowstone, my first summer there as a full-timer and she came to visit. She's two years older, by the way. Anyway, she came in a little earlier than expected and walked in on me and Kathy." At Jessie's shocked expression, Chris raised her hand and smiled. "No, not in bed," she said and laughed. "We were in the living room and I was kissing her goodbye." Chris lowered her voice and leaned closer. "It wasn't exactly a peck on the cheek, either."

Jessie laughed, enjoying Chris's story. "Go on."

"Well, you'd have to know Susan to appreciate this. She was Miss Goody Two-Shoes growing up. She never did a thing wrong, made good grades, never drank alcohol or dared touch a cigarette. Nothing. Straight as they come. I, on the other hand, never followed my parents' rules, and I wasn't afraid to party," she said and laughed again. It had been years since she'd told anyone this story. "Susan screamed when she saw us and clutched her chest in a mock heart attack, all the time her eyes were about to bug out of her head. She was so ashamed of me, she said." Chris leaned her elbows on the table and looked at Jessie. "Actually, I was surprised she even knew what was going on."

"So she left and you haven't spoken since?" Jessie guessed.

"Oh, she didn't leave until the next day, after she told me how humiliated she was and disgusted and all those other wonderful words she threw at me. But I was young and really didn't give a damn what she thought. I told her to mind her own fucking business. Of course, she didn't. She left and immediately called Mom and Dad and they actually came together to talk some sense into me. It was all so dreadful, them wondering where they had gone wrong and all that. But we've gotten past that over the years, I think. But we're not close. And Susan, well, she never got over it. I haven't talked to her since. She's married to a minister and has two kids and I doubt they even know they have an Aunt Chris."

"That's sad, McKenna. Does she see your parents?"

"She sees my father. I think she's embarrassed by Mom, though. She doesn't quite fit into Susan's perfect little world."

"And how often do you see your mother?"

"I see her maybe once a year. She's fine with it now. Probably because I've never brought a woman with me, I don't know. But she's got her own life. When I talk to Dad, he pretends I have no personal life and I pretend he doesn't have a wife who hates me."

"So, what about this Kathy?" Jessie asked with a grin.

"She was just a summer fling. She went back to college, and I never saw her again," Chris said with a wave of her hand.

"Do you make a habit of summer flings?" Jessie asked lightly.

Chris met her eyes and teasingly raised an eyebrow. "When I was younger, stuck at Yellowstone, summer flings were quite appealing."

"And now?"

Chris drank from her beer before answering. "And now I'm getting too old for summer flings," she said.

They paused when Martha brought them fresh beers.

"Run you a tab, McKenna? Don't you have to work tomorrow?"

"Thanks for keeping me in line, Martha. I guess this will be it, then."

"Maybe Roger's right," Jessie said when Martha left them.

"No, I think she just likes picking on me," Chris said.

"Well, you are quite fun to pick on," Jessie teased.

"I am, huh?"

Jessie rubbed the frost on the side of her mug with her thumb, so glad she had come looking for Chris tonight. If nothing else, she might be able to salvage a friendship. And that would be something new for her.

"Chris, I want to thank you for everything you've done. Seriously," she said.

"Seriously?"

"I told Annie today that if I'd never met you, I doubted that I would have ever found the courage to see her."

"I think you would have, Jessie. Because, deep down, you really wanted to."

"I wonder if I would have even remembered everything if you'd not been here to push me, Chris. And I really don't think I would have gone to see Annie," Jessie said, knowing it was true. "So, thank you," she said quietly. "You were there when I needed you."

"Please don't say you're talking about that night up on Ridge Trail," Chris said softly, unable to meet her eyes.

Jessie leaned closer, trying to catch Chris's eyes. "Will you never forgive me for that?"

Chris allowed her eyes to be captured by Jessie's dark ones. She'd had too many beers, she knew, because she was having a hard time remembering that night on the ledge, remembering how humiliated she felt. And it was nice to just sit and talk. She really didn't want to remember it anymore.

"Should I forgive you?" she finally asked.

"Yes. You gave me what I needed that night," Jessie whispered. "I don't ever want it to be like that again."

Chris felt her breath catch and she was unable to pull her eyes from Jessie's. She wasn't immune to her, she knew. The thigh that pressed firmly against her own had not moved, and she did not want to break the contact. But tonight was not the night to take this any farther.

"I'm glad you came here tonight," Chris said.

"Me, too."

"But it's time I got going. Dillon is probably starving."

"Okay, McKenna. Let me get your beer, at least."

Chris was going to decline, but Jessie had already pulled out her money. "Okay. I guess famous writers make a little more than search and rescue folks, huh?"

Jessie laughed. "Maybe a little."

They walked out into the cold night air, die snow crunching beneath their boots and their breath frosty in front of their faces. Jessie looked up into the night sky, watching the stars twinkling overhead.

"I have missed this sight," she said. "There are no stars in the city, you know."

"No?"

"Nope. Not a one," she said quietly.

Jessie leaned against the post railing and Chris watched her. She had the face of an angel. Beautiful wasn't quite the word to describe her and Chris felt the familiar pounding of her heart whenever she allowed her thoughts to move in this direction. It was as if in slow motion Jessie turned her head and effortlessly captured Chris's eyes.

"Thanks for the beer. And the company," Chris added.

"It was my pleasure," Jessie said. She pushed off of the post and walked close to Chris, stopping only inches away. "And thank you," she whispered, moving closer, touching her lips lightly to Chris's.

Chris didn't pull away and she sighed when Jessie left her after only a brief touch. She wanted so much more than that. She stood there long after Jessie's taillights had faded, the flame still flickering inside her.

Chapter Thirty-one

Jessie had just come outside and closed the cabin door when a car drove up. Mary Ruth Henniger climbed out gracefully and walked over to her.

"Mary Ruth, how are you today?" Jessie asked pleasantly.

"Very good, thank you."

She had a folded piece of paper in her hand and Jessie raised her eyebrows questioningly.

"What brings you out?" she asked.

"Well, I just had the strangest phone call. Annie Stone, who hasn't called me in all the years she's lived out here, rang me up to give a message to her daughter. She insisted Jessie Stone was staying at one of my cabins. She described you and I told her you weren't Jessie Stone. Why, Jessie Stone hasn't been here since her daddy died. But she insisted I give you a message."

Jessie laughed nervously, wondering how to tell this kind woman that she had been using an alias.

"Actually, I am Jessie Stone. I'm sorry."

"Well, I'll be," Mary Ruth murmured. "You've cut your beautiful long hair off. No wonder."

Jessie laughed again. It was the first thing she had done when she'd moved to San Francisco all those years ago. Her hair had reached nearly to her waist when she'd lived here. Jack always said he liked her with long hair.

"I didn't want anyone to know who I was when I came here in August," she explained. "I'm sorry about the Jennifer Parker thing."

"Well, imagine that. We all assumed you had left for good," she said. "What in the world are you doing here?" she asked bluntly.

"I came to see my mother," she said simply. She pointed at the note in her hands. "What's the message?"

"Oh, here," she said, handing her the note. "She's wants you to call her. That's her number there. You're welcome to use my phone," Mary Ruth offered.

"Thanks, but I've got a phone. I appreciate you coming all the way out here though," Jessie said politely. She waited for Mary Ruth to drive off before calling Annie.

"It's Jessie. Is everything all right?"

"Yes. Nothing's wrong, I just didn't know how else to reach you," Annie explained. "I tried calling Chris, but I can't find her."

"Oh. I didn't think to give you the number to my cell phone."

"Well, we didn't really talk about when we would get together again and tonight is my normal night to have dinner with Chris. I thought, well, you should join us. I'm sure Chris won't mind," Annie said. "I so want the two of you to be friends," she added.

Jessie smiled and nodded, wondering what Annie's reaction would be if she knew just how close they had been this summer.

"I understand. And I don't think she would mind, other than me cutting in on her time with you," Jessie said lightly. "I actually saw her last night at the Rock House. We had a chance to visit."

"Good. So that means you'll come?"

"I'll come, Annie. Thank you."

After the call ended, Jessie stood staring into the trees reflectively. Would Chris mind? She didn't think so. After all, they'd had an enjoyable visit last night. Then Jessie remembered the quiet, fleeting kiss she had given Chris when they parted. The soft sigh that Chris uttered had been nearly enough to make Jessie deepen the kiss, but she had not dared. Instead, she pulled away after the briefest of touches but not before she saw the thinly veiled desire that Chris had tried to hide.

She doubted they would have any time alone tonight. Besides, with Chris there, she and Annie would most likely not get into any heavy discussions, which was just fine with her. After yesterday, her emotions were still a bit raw.

Jessie drove into town, finishing the task she had started before Mary Ruth had come by with the message. Firewood. Chris had said the lodge sold it, and she filled the back of her SUV for a mere thirty dollars.

She stacked it neatly on the back porch but after making the many trips to and from her car with armloads of wood, she was too tired for her afternoon jog. Instead, she stretched out on the sofa, a deep sleep claiming her almost instantly.

Chapter Thirty-two

Jessie tapped her fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of a country western song that she'd never heard, but it was the only station she could pick up. She glanced forlornly at the CD player, wishing she had thought to bring a couple, at least. Then she glanced at her phone. She should really call McKenna and warn her that she'd be there. But her eyes flicked back to the road. Surely Chris wouldn't mind.

She knocked on Annie's door a short time later and heard Annie call to her. A feeling of familiarity settled over her as she opened the front door and walked inside.

"I'm in the kitchen," Annie called. "Jessie or Chris?"

Jessie laughed and shook her head. Who would have thought that just a few months ago her life had been so dark?

"It's Jessie," she called.

She glanced around the living room, her eyes traveling to the stairs. Maybe today she would tour the house, see what became of her old room. And Jack's study. It was the only place she was not allowed. She closed her eyes briefly, remembering the sound of the front door slamming and her running feet taking the stairs two at a time on her way to her room after school. She also remembered that she never called to Annie in those days, to let her know that she was home, to ask about her day and tell Annie about hers. She opened her eyes to push the memories away and was startled by the voice behind her.

"Jessie?"

She turned around quickly. "Hello, Annie."

"You're welcome to look around, Jessie," she offered gently.

"Oh, I don't know," Jessie said, dismayed that she was blushing.

"Suit yourself," Annie said with a smile and disappeared again into the kitchen.

Jessie stood there, arms wrapped securely around herself, but she couldn't stop her eyes from traveling up the stairs again. Before she knew it, her hand rested on the banister, and her right foot paused on the bottom step. Two of Annie's paintings hung on the wall along the stairway, and she glanced at them briefly before continuing up. At the top, she looked left and down the hall, which led to the master bedroom and the spare room where Jack had slept, then she turned to the right and stared at the door to her old room. The door was closed and her hand settled over the knob tightly. She paused only a second before opening it and she stood there in the doorway, her breath catching. She felt tears gather in her eyes, but she ignored them as she stepped inside. Annie had left it just the way Jessie had that morning she had walked out all those years ago. On the wall, her high school pennant still hung along with a ribbon from a game, announcing Go Bears! Beat the Lions! On the opposite wall, tacked up over her old desk, was a map of the National Forest and Sierra City. She had highlighted all of the different trails that she had hiked and her eyes traveled over them, remembering. Her bookshelf was still neatly stacked with her childhood books, save the few she had crammed into her suitcase when she left.

As she looked around the room, it dawned on her that she had not adorned the walls with posters like most adolescent girls would have. Actually, there was nothing else in the room. No pictures, no personal items. Then she noticed the hardback books propped up in one corner of her bookshelf. Her books. She pulled one out and glanced at her photo on the back, her eyes nearly lifeless in the picture. She wondered what Annie had thought. She put the book back and walked to the bed and gently touched the quilt. In all the years she had lived here, she had never once made up her bed, but every day when she'd returned from school, it was neatly made up again.

"Are you okay?" Annie asked from the doorway.

"Why did you leave all this?" she asked, waving her arms around the room.

"I always hoped you would come back, I guess. After awhile, when I knew you wouldn't, I had plans to clean it out and give your stuff away, but I never could. It's been so many years now..." She shrugged, leaving the thought hanging between them.

Jessie turned around and faced her.

"What about Jack's stuff?" After he had died, Jessie wouldn't allow Annie to disturb his study or his bedroom.

"I gave most of it away, Jessie. I did keep some things that I thought you might like, though. They're in a box in the basement along with a few pictures of the two of you."

"No. I don't think there's anything that I would want," she said quietly.

"Well, it's there if you change your mind. If not, we can get rid of it." Annie turned to leave, but Jessie called her back.

"Annie, why did you hang onto me all these years?"

Annie turned back around and faced her.

"You're my daughter. I gave birth to you, brought you into this world. Jack couldn't take that away from me."

"I'm so sorry," Jessie whispered, letting her tears flow.

"Oh, Jessie. Don't cry, honey. It's not your fault." Annie walked into the room and stood before Jessie and took her hands. She was afraid Jessie would rebuff her offer of comfort but she pulled her into her arms anyway.

Jessie fell into to the hug, but only briefly before pulling away. She wiped at her cheeks and like any good mother, Annie miraculously produced a tissue from her pocket, and they smiled at each other as Jessie dried her eyes and blew her nose.

They walked together into the room that used to be Jack's and Jessie was surprised to discover that Annie had turned it into a library. Every wall was lined with shelves overflowing with books. In the center of the room was a recliner, a floor lamp and a small end table.

"Wow. You've read all of these?" Jessie asked as her eyes traveled over the numerous books, some classics, but most just popular fiction, from mysteries to romance.

"Oh, yes. I love to read. In the winter, especially, I'll sit nearly all day in here or by the fire."

They went back downstairs, and Annie went into the kitchen to check on dinner. "Go ahead and look in the study," she called.

Jessie was about to decline, but she shrugged. It wasn't so bad after all, this tour of her old house. She walked through the living room and down a short hallway. This was where Jack had spent most of his time at home. Occasionally, she would be allowed to join him, sitting on the sofa doing homework while he sat in his big chair and smoked a cigar, the daily paper spread out before him.

She pushed open the door and her eyes widened in surprise. The room had been turned into a studio for Annie. The two outside walls had been replaced with glass that offered spectacular views of the forest and Sierra Peak, now white with snow. Annie had several finished paintings stacked against one wall, but other than that neat stacking, the rest of the room was a mess. Her easel stood empty in the center of the room, a stained drop cloth lying beneath it. On the only table in the room, jars of brushes and containers of paint littered the top. This room was so different from the rest of the house, which was orderly and neat.

"I don't even try to keep it clean anymore," Annie said from the doorway.

"The view is incredible, Annie. I like it."

Annie walked into the room and peered up at Sierra Peak. "I didn't know how you would react to the house, Jessie. I didn't leave any reminders of Jack. I hope you understand why."

"Of course I understand, Annie. I wouldn't have expected you to." She met Annie's eyes for an instant. "I'm sorry it took me so long to... remember, to get back out here. It seems we've wasted so many years between us."

"I'm not that old," Annie said with a quiet laugh. "I hope we still have a few good ones left."

"I'll admit, I didn't think it would be this easy being here, being around you. You're not at all like I remember."

"If you had come here a few years ago, especially before Roger moved back here, things probably would be different. I was a very bitter woman for many years. Roger gave me an outlet to talk about the past and try to put everything in perspective. Now, there's Chris. She's been such a joy to me. She comes over a couple of times a week and we play cards and talk and drink wine."

Annie gently pushed Jessie from the room and closed the door behind her. Jessie settled on the sofa while Annie bent to get the fire started. Jessie was curious as to just how much Annie had told Chris about the old days. The look on her face must have said as much.

"Oh, don't think we sat around here and talked about you all the time. She was reading one of your books when she moved here and Roger told her who you were and that I lived here. She was naturally curious and on our first couple of visits we talked about you, but we've become friends. She keeps me up on the local gossip now," Annie said and laughed.

"I'm glad you invited me tonight, but I don't want to cut in on your time with her," Jessie said.

"Nonsense. I want you two to get to know each other better. I really hope you'll be friends."

"I think we'll be fine, Annie. I like Chris a lot."

"Good." She bent again to stick a match to the paper and they watched as it caught.

"Annie, tell me about the man you were seeing in San Francisco," Jessie said suddenly.

"My, where did that question come from?"

Jessie shrugged. "Chris told me some."

"His name was Jonathan and he was the attorney I went to see," she said.

"Why did you see an attorney?"

"I was going to divorce Jack. You were twelve and I was lonely," Annie said simply. "Only I couldn't go through with it, but Jonathan and I had become friends and he was someone to talk to. I would see him once or twice a month and eventually we became more than friends." Annie looked into the fire, seeing nothing, picturing Jonathan's warm face. "He was quite a bit older than me and a widower, but such a gentle man, Jessie, and I fell in love with him."

"Why didn't you go through with it?"

"Oh, I don't want to place any more guilt on you, Jessie, but I was worried about you. I didn't want to leave you alone here with Jack, in case you needed me. I was going to wait until you graduated high school, then go be with him."

"Only Jack found out first," Jessie said.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you go after Jack died? After I left?"

"After Jack died, I wouldn't see him at first, wouldn't even talk to him. It was very difficult at that time."

"You mean, I was difficult," Jessie stated. She did feel guilty. It was her fault that Annie had never had a life.

"Not just you, Jessie. The whole situation. Regardless, we stopped seeing each other," Annie said.

"What about later?"

"We talked occasionally, after you left, but it was never the same. He died a few years later," she said softly.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't think it's your fault. It's just life, is all. Some things, we can't control. Remember that."

Jessie nodded and again felt tears prick her eyes.

"Anyway, I made out just fine."

Annie left, saying she needed to check on dinner, and Jessie suspected she had tears in her own eyes.

Ten minutes later, Chris tapped on the door and let herself in. Jessie was sitting on the sofa, flipping through a magazine. Her eyes flew up, meeting Chris's questioning ones easily.

"Hi," she said. She put the magazine down and stood, lightly crossing her arms.

"Hello, Jessie." Chris closed the door but stood there, unmoving. "I didn't expect to see you here," she said. "Everything okay?"

"Yes, fine. Annie invited me," she explained. Then lowered her voice. "I guess I should warn you, she intends for us to be friends," she said with a smile.

"I see. Guess we don't have a choice then." She walked slowly over to Jessie and stood in front of her, her lips forming into a smile. "I'm glad you're getting along. You are getting along, right?"

"Oh yes. It's been fine. I never would have believed it possible," she confessed. "It's almost as if we've not been estranged all these years, you know. I mean, there's still a lot we've not discussed, but I don't know if we even need to. What good will it do? I think maybe just starting fresh with us is the way it should be."

"I think if that will work for you both, then go for it. You might be right. What good will it do to drag out all the old history and get you both upset?"

"I guess. Although my therapist would probably think that was a terrible idea. She likes everything out in the open and hashed over a hundred times before she's satisfied."

Chris nodded and allowed her eyes to be held by Jessie's before looking towards the kitchen.

"What's she whipping up?"

"Spaghetti, I think."

"Oh, goody. My favorite."

Chris walked to the kitchen and Jessie followed.

"Why, Chris, I didn't hear you come in," Annie said, when they walked into the kitchen. She lifted her cheek for Chris's kiss and smiled up at her.

"Smells good, Annie."

"Oh, please. You'll say that about anything," she said and laughed. "You two go visit," she said, pushing them from the kitchen. "I'll be out in a bit. Here, take the wine." She shoved the bottle into Chris's hands and the glasses into Jessie's.

Any pretense that Chris had of ignoring her attraction to Jessie fled the instant their fingers touched as she handed Jessie a glass of wine. She knew Jessie felt it, too, for her eyes locked on Chris's.

"I hope you're not upset with me," Jessie finally said.

"Upset? Why?"

"I didn't really plan on kissing you last night. But... well, it was just too tempting," Jessie said lightly.

"Oh, that," Chris said just as lightly. "It was nothing."

"Nothing? Well, I'll have to do better next time."

Chris held Jessie's gaze before lowering her eyes to Jessie's lips.

"Will there be a next time?" she asked.

Jessie leaned closer, feeling the heat that radiated from Chris, suddenly wishing that they were alone.

"Yes. Without a doubt," Jessie stated.

Chris tried to break the hold that Jessie had on her, but she failed miserably. Despite what had happened between them before, she knew she wanted another chance with Jessie. A chance at what, she wasn't really sure. One night of passion? But what if it ended like the last?

Jessie saw the doubts cloud Chris's eyes and she knew she was remembering their last aborted attempt at lovemaking. There was so much she wanted to tell Chris about her feelings that night, about what had driven her to do that, what always drove her to that. But now was not die time. Instead, she changed the subject away from them.

"You know, I wasn't sure if you'd mind that I came tonight or not. I know this is your normal time with Annie. She thinks the world of you, by the way."

Chris smiled and sipped from her wine before answering.

"We usually finish the evening with her beating me in cards and she makes me drink another bottle of wine and I feel like shit the next day," she said with a laugh, acknowledging Jessie's subtle shift in their conversation. "Maybe I can get her to cut me some slack tonight."

"What's so funny?"

They both looked up at Annie who held an empty wineglass. Jessie reached for the bottle to fill it.

"Chris was telling me how you force her to drink two bottles of wine while you beat her at cards," Jessie said.

"Oh, please. I could beat her at cards if she was stone sober," Annie laughed.

Chris smiled, pleased that Annie was so relaxed this evening. She had a glow about her, and Chris knew it was because of Jessie.

They were quiet as they looked from one to the other, then Annie smiled broadly.

"I can't remember the last time I've been this happy. My two favorite girls here at the same time. Thank you both."

Jessie blushed and looked at Chris who smiled quietly while watching her.

"Girls, huh?" Chris murmured.

"Yes, girls," Annie said. "I've been thinking. You know Thanksgiving is coming up," she said shyly. "I haven't actually celebrated it in a lot of years, but I thought this year, well, I have so much to be thankful for. Perhaps Roger and his Ellen might come, if you two thought we could have a dinner together."

"I think that's a great idea," Chris said.

"Yeah. That would be nice," Jessie agreed. She couldn't remember the last time she'd celebrated it either.

"I might even break down and cook a turkey. I doubt Roger would come otherwise," Annie said.

She was nearly beaming and Chris couldn't hold in her laugh. She doubted Annie had planned a dinner party in forty years.

"What?" Annie demanded.

"Nothing," Chris said, hiding her smile with her hand. "It's just... well, I've never seen you like this."

"Like what?"

"Well... happy, Annie."

Annie blushed and busied herself with the fire while Chris and Jessie shared smiles.

"I'm happy, too," Jessie said. "And I think I have the most to be thankful for."

Annie turned around and Chris watched the warm smile transform Annie's face as she looked at Jessie.

"Let's eat, huh?"

Chris was the only one who went back for seconds but was not the least bit shy while she piled her plate high a second time.

"I think she starves herself in between our dinner dates," Annie explained to Jessie. "She eats likes she's starving, anyway."

"I think you're right. Last night, I saw her plate at the Rock House. I don't think she even knew what it was."

"I don't think it's polite to talk about me as if I'm not here," Chris said around a mouthful.

"Why do you insist on eating there?" Annie asked.

"Because I can't cook, as you very well know."

"Nonsense. How hard can it be?"

"Okay, I don't like to cook. Is that better?"

Annie reached across the table and patted her hand.

"I'm just teasing you. It does my heart good to cook a decent meal and have you consume it with such gusto."

Jessie watched the exchange between them, feeling a stab of jealously at the easy banter they enjoyed. She looked up, startled to find Chris watching her.

"Did you ever get any firewood?" Chris asked suddenly.

"I picked some up at the lodge today."

"Good. We're getting a storm in a couple of days. I was going to take Bobby and Greg out for training tomorrow, while things are fairly slow here, but Roger said he got word that we might get ten inches down here in town."

"But not tomorrow?" Annie asked.

"No. But we've not put out all the cross-county ski markers yet so I'll help with that tomorrow. I'm sure if we get a good snow, we'll be packed with skiers this weekend."

"It seems every year around Thanksgiving we get a storm. But it'll be fun to pull out my snowshoes." She turned to Jessie then, to include her in their conversation. "I love to hike and I don't like winter to slow me down."

"Do you ski, too?"

"Oh, no. I tried those long skis but ended up on my butt more than my feet," Annie said and they laughed. "I stick to walking." She paused. "Do you ski?"

Jessie shook her head. She had learned to cross-country ski as a kid, but had not been out since she had left.

"No, I've really not had the opportunity," she said, not wanting to explain her avoidance of anything that would remind her of the mountains.

"Well, if you feel the need to try, you can go out with me," Chris offered.

"Thank you. If we get the chance between now and December twentieth I'm in."

"The twentieth?"

"That's when I've got to be out of the cabin," Jessie explained.

Chris nodded slowly. She had known that Jessie would be leaving, of course. Back to New York.

"But that doesn't mean you have to leave then, does it?" Annie asked. "I told you..."

"That's more than a month away, Annie. Let's just see what happens."

An uncomfortable silence settled around them and Chris absentmindedly twirled the uneaten spaghetti on her plate. Annie finished the small amount of wine in her glass and Jessie stared at her own empty glass. Chris tried to think of something witty to say to break the tension, but nothing came. Annie finally stood up and took the empty bottle of wine into the kitchen. Chris knew she would return with another one.

"I'm sorry," Jessie said softly.

"You don't have to apologize to me," Chris said.

"She offered a room here," Jessie explained. "But I just think that would be too strange. I mean, it's been so many years."

Chris met her eyes across the table and held them.

"If you want to leave, then leave. But don't use the excuse that you don't have a place to stay."

Jessie's eyes flashed, but she knew she should not be angry with Chris. She had spoken the truth. In fact, it had been a comfort that she had to be out by the twentieth. It gave her an excuse to flee if she needed it.

Annie came back in and stood at the table with another bottle of wine. She looked at Chris first before addressing Jessie.

"You just came back into my life," she said. "The idea of you leaving again so soon is painful. I'm sorry. But you do what you have to do. You have a place here if you'd like to stay longer."

"Thank you, Annie. We'll see when the time comes."

"Good. Fair enough. Now, let's take the wine into the living room and enjoy the fire."

Their conversation moved to less personal things and Chris filled Annie in on what was happening in town and Jessie listened quietly, only occasionally interjecting her own thoughts. They stayed nearly another hour before Chris yawned and stood.

"I should really get going. I'll be hiking all over the place tomorrow, I'm sure. Thanks again for dinner, Annie. It was delicious, as always." She bent quickly and kissed Annie's cheek.

"I should get going, too," Jessie said. As much as she was enjoying her visit with Annie, she wanted a chance to finish her conversation with Chris.

"I understand," Annie said.

"Tomorrow may be my last day to get a run in before the snows come," Jessie offered as an excuse.

"I didn't know you jogged," Annie said as she walked them to the door.

"My lone form of exercise, I'm afraid. I'm not a serious runner, though. I usually only do five miles or so."

"And that's not serious?" Chris asked. "Just give me a hiking trail and I'll be fine."

"Thank you for inviting me to dinner, Annie. You've got my phone number, right?"

"Yes. And you've got mine."

Chris and Jessie walked out together, then stopped between the Jeep and Jessie's rental car, their backs to the house. The cedar blocked out the light from the porch and they stood in the shadows, watching each other as their breath frosted around them.

"Was that rough on you?" Chris asked. "I mean, about your leaving in a month."

"A little. It's not like I'm in a hurry to get back, that's not it. I've got my apartment there, but nothing else. I'm just not sure staying here with her would be a good idea. Not yet, anyway."

"Well, like you said, you can decide when the time comes."

They were quiet and Chris shifted her feet, not wanting the evening to end but knowing she should go.

Jessie glanced up at the house to see if Annie could see them, then moved closer to Chris.

"When can I see you again?" she asked quietly.

"See me? I'm sure we'll see each other, Jessie."

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

"You mean, like a date?" Chris asked with a small smile.

"A date? Well, if that's what you want to call it. I just want to see you, to spend time with you." It was Jessie's turn to fidget and she shifted from one foot to the other. "In case you haven't realized it... I'm extremely attracted to you."

"Extremely?"

"Yeah, McKenna, extremely."

Chris searched Jessie's eyes, trying to figure out what game Jessie was playing, if any. Her breath caught when she saw desire in Jessie's dark eyes, desire that she didn't even try to hide. She shook her head slowly but was unable to look away. Those black eyes were drawing her close, pulling her in and she tried to resist their power, but she was paralyzed. She stood there, as unmoving as the mountains around them, watching as Jessie moved closer, her head bending to Chris's ear.

"If you don't stop looking at me that way, I'll be forced to kiss you right here," Jessie whispered into her ear. She pulled back slowly, breathing deeply, remembering the unique smell of Chris from other nights. Was it perfume or simply the sweet smell of cedars and the mountains? She saw Chris's pulse throbbing rapidly in her throat and she wanted to put her mouth there. And it was all so new to her, this attraction. For the first time in her life, she ached to wake up with a lover in her bed. Not alone and with all the emptiness that usually followed after her trysts with strangers.

Chris moved her head without thinking, taking the lips that were so close to her own. Jessie's lips were soft, tender... so unlike the bruising kisses that she remembered from that night on the ledge.

Jessie moved into Chris's arms, sliding her own over Chris's shoulders. She pressed her body tight against Chris, her eyes closed as her mouth opened to the kiss, and she searched out Chris's tongue, pulling it inside her own mouth.

"I want you so much," Jessie whispered. "Please, come home with me," she pleaded, uttering the one phrase she had never said to anyone before.

"Jessie..."

"Please. Make love to me. Let me make love to you." Her hands slid down and cupped Chris's small breasts, her hands as hungry as her mouth.

Chris lost her resolve and pulled Jessie up against her, her hips pressing into Jessie's. She felt herself grow wet and she ached for Jessie's touch.

"I'll follow you," Chris whispered into Jessie's ear. "Hurry."

Chris drove without thinking. She wanted her. She had wanted her since the first time they met, since before that even. She couldn't stop what was about to happen even if she wanted to. She refused to think about the last time.

When the cabin door closed behind them, Jessie pushed Chris against the wall, her mouth starving for her kisses. They pressed together, lips and tongues moving wildly as they struggled to touch through their clothes.

Jessie grabbed the bottom of Chris's shirt and pulled it over her head in one quick motion, then tossed it carelessly to the floor as Chris pulled Jessie's head to her breasts. Jessie's mouth opened and she sucked a nipple into her mouth, her tongue grazing it as Chris gently held her head to her.

"Yes," Chris whispered. She had wanted this for so long, she wasn't sure her legs would support her now as she watched Jessie at her breast. She felt her wetness soak her jeans and she reached blindly for Jessie's hand and pressed it hard against herself.

"Oh, Jesus," Jessie murmured. "You're so wet."

Her hands fumbled with Chris's jeans, finally pushing them down enough to touch her. Her fingers glided through her warmth, dripping wet as she touched her. Chris moaned loudly and clutched Jessie to her as Jessie's fingers plunged deep inside her. Jessie withdrew slightly, then buried herself again inside her as her tongue batted with Chris's. She finally pulled out and stroked her, feeling Chris throb against her fingertips. Chris's hands dug into Jessie's shoulders and Jessie felt her tremble seconds before her orgasm hit.

Chris leaned her head against the wall, her breath coming in rapid gasps. Too fast. It was just too fast, but she couldn't hold back another second.