Snow Falls

chapter Eighteen



Jen followed Ryan as she led her down the mountain. The dogs bounded ahead of them, full of energy and excitement, neither of which Jen felt. Ryan had Jen’s backpack slung over her shoulders, and Jen carried her laptop. Jen’s heart felt heavier with each step that took her farther from the cabin. She’d glanced over her shoulder several times, watching it fade from view.

Their hike down was as quiet as their morning had been, quieter even than the nearly silent breakfast they shared. Jen just couldn’t shake the dejection that had settled over her. Even now, she knew she should be elated that she’d soon be back home, but she felt anything but that. Quite the opposite. She was saddened by the prospect of leaving, knowing somehow that she was never going to see Ryan again. That thought brought another wave of despair over her, nearly choking the breath from her.

Ryan stopped and turned, eyebrows raised. Jen gave her a weak smile.

“Do you need to rest?”

Jen shook her head, afraid to speak. Ryan seemed to study her for a moment, then nodded before pushing on. Was Ryan feeling the same emotions that Jen was? Was she dreading this goodbye as much? Why, oh why, couldn’t they talk about it? Why were they both ignoring what had become so blatantly obvious?

Maybe because you’re straight and there’s a man wanting to marry you?

That thought made her nearly laugh. Her feelings lately had strongly contradicted both of those supposed facts. She hadn’t even bothered to e-mail Brad to let him know she was headed home.

“Hey, come over here. Take a look.”

Jen had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t realized Ryan had gotten off the trail. She followed her through the trees to an overlook. The sight took her breath away.

“That’s Slumgullion Lake,” Ryan said. “Not much snow down in the valley, is it?”

“It’s beautiful,” Jen said quietly, afraid to disturb the tranquility she felt at that moment.

“Yes. Very beautiful,” Ryan murmured.

Jen turned, finding Ryan’s gaze on her and not the view that was spread out before them. The look in Ryan’s eyes caused her pulse to quicken. It always did. But it was Ryan who looked away, turning abruptly and continuing on without another word. She blew out her breath, pausing to glance down at the lake once more before following Ryan and the dogs.

Silence, again, was her companion as Ryan walked ahead of her. It was just as well. She didn’t know what she would say even if Ryan did want to talk about it. The minutes ticked by, punctuated by the sounds of their footsteps. For so long, their hikes had been accompanied by the sound of snow crunching under their boots. Today, rocks and exposed twigs and limbs crunched with a completely different sound. It was almost foreign after so many weeks in the snow.

Much too soon, Ryan stopped, shrugging out of the backpack she carried for Jen. Jen looked around, spotting the one-armed gate that blocked the road just below them. Seven short weeks ago this had all been a snowy, wintery scene. She had skirted the gate, unwittingly following snowmobile tracks to climb higher up the road. Her gaze traveled the road again, higher, seeing the mounds of snow, remnants of the avalanche. Somewhere up there, buried in snow, was the SUV she had rented. Here, though, the road had been plowed, the remaining snow shoved to the side, exposing graded gravel.

“It looks completely different,” she said.

“Yeah. Not a lot of snow left down here.”

“I suppose I’ll need to make arrangements to have my rental towed out of here.”

“Reese was going to contact the rental agency, remember?”

Jen smiled. “Oh, yes. Forgot what good connections you had with the local sheriff.”

Ryan picked up the backpack again and hopped across the boulders that lined the road. The snow was slushy here, and her boots landed in soft dirt. She held her hand out. Jen paused, finally taking it and letting Ryan help her down. She leaned her laptop case against her stuffed backpack. Halfway down the mountain, they’d both shed their coats. Jen had managed to shove hers into her pack. Ryan’s was tied around her waist.

“She said she’d be here at noon,” Ryan said as she unwound her coat and tossed it on top of a rock. “And unlike you, she’s almost always on time.”

Jen glanced at her watch. They had ten minutes. Just ten minutes. And so much to say. She tried to find the words. She faced Ryan, offering a small smile.

“‘Thank you’ doesn’t seem like enough,” she said finally.

“You don’t have to thank me.”

Jen nodded. “I am going to miss...miss it up here.” She paused. “Miss you.”

“Yeah. I’m going to miss having you around. I’ll miss our conversations.”

Jen gave a short laugh. “Like I said, some hermit you are.”

Ryan smiled too, her gaze never leaving Jen’s. Feeling brave, Jen moved her hand, blindly reaching for Ryan’s. Their fingers entwined, then Ryan tugged her closer. Jen’s heart was beating loudly, blocking out all other sounds. Ryan leaned down, her lips brushing lightly across Jen’s cheek. Jen’s eyes slammed closed as she held her breath, waiting. Waiting for more.

“Jen...”

Jen opened her eyes, finding Ryan’s. She didn’t speak. She couldn’t speak—she could barely breathe. But she took a step closer, her body now touching Ryan’s. Countless seconds passed, both trying to read each other’s thoughts. Then Ryan moved, her hands cupping Jen’s face, her thumbs rubbing lightly across her lips.

“Please,” Jen whispered. “Please kiss me.”

Ryan’s mouth hovered just inches from her own. She closed the distance, her hands clutching Ryan’s shirt, pulling her closer. She couldn’t stifle the moan—it was out before she knew it. Warm, soft lips claimed her, the kiss gentle at first, exploring. Jen welcomed it, her mouth opening, inviting Ryan inside. The moan she heard wasn’t hers. She felt her knees tremble as Ryan kissed her with a hunger she never felt before. She matched it, her hands sliding up Ryan’s shoulders, pulling her closer still. She groaned with a need she didn’t understand when Ryan’s tongue slipped past her lips.

It was a kiss, but it was a kiss like none she’d ever experienced. Was it because Ryan was a woman that it felt so different? Was that why her heart pounded and her pulse raced? Regardless, she clung to her, keeping their bodies pressed tightly together, feeling Ryan’s hands moving freely across her back, then lower, cupping her hips and pulling her intimately closer.

After all of her years of longing for passion and fireworks, she found it in Ryan’s kisses. She struggled to remain standing as she returned each kiss with equal fervor, relishing the arousal she’d never felt before.

She almost fell when Ryan stepped abruptly away, keeping one hand on her arm to steady her. Her eyes searched Ryan’s, seeing a confusion there that matched her own—and desire she wasn’t trying to hide. Then she heard it. She let out a frustrated breath and took a step away from Ryan, separating them further. The rumble of a truck’s engine grew louder, and she turned, seeing a dusty white truck—Sheriff’s Department written on its side—lurching up the road toward them.

“Jen?”

Jen looked back at Ryan, not knowing what to say. What could she say? She opened her mouth to speak, but no words would come. The slamming of a truck door brought reality crashing down around her.

She was leaving. Going home.

“I come bearing gifts.”

Jen turned, seeing a tall, lanky woman with short hair coming toward them carrying a large backpack. She was pretty, almost handsome. Jen nearly blushed, wondering at her sudden appreciation of attractive women.

“You remembered,” Ryan said with a grin.

“Yep. Morgan made lasagna yesterday too. She stuck a couple of pieces in here for you.”

Jen smiled as the two women embraced quickly, then pulled apart. Ryan motioned to her.

“This is Jennifer Kincaid.”

Jen took the offered hand. “It’s Jen. Nice to meet you.”

“Reese Daniels. Glad you survived. I imagine it was hard living with this one.”

Jen glanced at Ryan, afraid to meet her eyes. “Yes. She has her moments.”

“At least I didn’t chop you into little pieces, did I?”

Jen smiled at that. “No.” She turned to Reese. “I really appreciate you coming up here. My rented SUV is somewhere up there,” she said, motioning up the snow-covered road. “I hope you were able to contact my rental agency.”

“I did. I’ll have it towed down once we can get to it. Don’t worry about that.”

She took a deep breath, turning back to Ryan. “Well, I guess this is it.”

Ryan nodded. “Yeah, I guess it is. Listen, you take care of yourself.”

Jen nodded. “Yes. You too.” She took another deep breath, then reached down and petted each dog before getting in the truck. Reese closed the door behind her, and Jen sat there, listening to their muted conversation.

“Morgan says they’ll plow up here in about three or four weeks,” Reese said.

“Great. I should be able to get my Jeep out by then.”

“Come down for a beer. We’ll catch up.”

Jen bit her lip. She would leave and get on with her life. And Ryan would do the same. She forced a smile when Reese got in beside her. Apparently, it looked forced.

“Are you okay?”

Jen swallowed. “I’m not sure,” she answered truthfully.

She turned, looking out the window again. Ryan and the dogs stood there, watching. Their eyes met, probably for the very last time, and Jen felt a lump in her throat. Ryan raised her hand slowly. Jen nodded, etching that scene in her memory. She turned away from Ryan before her tears fell.

Reese said nothing as they drove away. Jen wiped at her tears, shocked by the loss she felt. It was several minutes before she felt in control enough to speak.

“The...the SUV, I’ve got some luggage in there. And my phone, camera,” she said.

“Not a problem. If you’ll leave me your address, I’ll get it shipped to you. You’ll need to contact your rental company, let them know we’ll tow it to Gunnison.”

“Okay. Thank you. I’ll of course pay whatever cost there is.”

“I imagine the rental place will pay for the tow.”

They were quiet again, and Jen let her gaze travel across the mountains, where snow was now only visible in patches here and there. She would miss it when she returned to the dry, arid landscape of Santa Fe.

Reese was the first to break the silence. “You know Ryan likes to pretend she’s some modern-day hermit, but she’s really not.”

“I know.”

“We could have always done a helicopter rescue for you,” she added.

Jen nodded. “Yes. But I was supposed to be away for a month anyway at the lodge, so…” She shrugged. Then, “Do you know why Ryan lives the way she does?”

Reese glanced at her. “What do you mean?”

“Cut off from everyone. Alone.”

“Well, she’s only trapped up there for a few months, really. When the road is still passable, she comes down to Lake City several times a month.”

Jen asked the question she was most interested in. “Why is she alone?”

“She doesn’t trust a whole lot of people.”

“I know. She wouldn’t tell me much about herself. In fact, she never once told me her real name.” Jen paused. “I think she was hurt. I think she’s running from that.”

Reese shrugged. “It’s not my place to go into all that. Ryan cherishes her privacy.”

Jen nodded quickly, not wanting Reese to think she was prying. “I understand.” She was thankful that Ryan apparently had talked to Reese and perhaps to Morgan as well. Everyone needed someone to talk to. She was also a bit hurt that Ryan had trusted them enough to share her past. She obviously had not trusted Jen.


***



Ryan watched until the truck was out of sight, then abruptly turned away from the empty road. The silence was deafening. She looked around, surprised by how alone she felt.

“Just us again, girls,” she murmured.

She picked up the backpack Reese had brought for her and slung it over her shoulders. She would return it on her first trip down. She took a deep breath, then pushed off, heading back up the mountain. She figured it would take her at least three hours to get back to her ridge and the cabin. She just didn’t realize how lonely her hike would be without Jen.

She paused, her mind—and body—wanting to relive their kisses, to dissect each and every one. She pushed her thoughts aside, though. She wasn’t ready to examine them, to consider what they could possibly mean. She would save that for later. Right now, she didn’t want to think. She just wanted to let it go, just as she’d let Jen go.

“Hell, she’s got a boyfriend,” she reminded herself. And he wants to marry her, for God’s sake. She shook her head, pushing that thought away as well.

She concentrated on her hike, keeping her mind blank. Afternoon clouds rolled in over the mountains, blocking the sun, and the temperature dropped. She stopped to rest several times, each time marking the absence of Jen. The dogs, too, seemed to miss her; they kept looking down the mountain. Ryan found herself doing the same.

It took her three hours and fifteen minutes to hike back, but finally the cabin was in sight. Her cabin. Her home. Her sanctuary.

Jen was gone. Now things would get back to normal. She could get on with her writing. She could get back to her solitary ambling, she and the dogs wandering across the mountain at will.

Jen was gone.