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.
Jen stood at the window, staring across the street at her neighbor’s house, a neat adobe home just like all the other neat adobe houses on the block. Just like her own. She sighed and turned away, her thoughts going to Brad. He was angry. He was confused. She’d been back two weeks, and they’d seen each other three times, all for dinner out. And each time she’d sent him home, not inviting him inside.
“What’s going on?”
“I’m just really tired.”
“Come on, Jen. Every time I want to see you, you have an excuse. I missed you so much.”
She had very nearly given in, her guilt weighing heavily on her. But the thought of being with him, kissing him, touching him—and him touching her—was nearly repulsive. She needed to tell him. She wasn’t in love with him. She wasn’t going to marry him. At least she’d figured out that much while she was away.
Away.
She closed her eyes, reliving again—for the thousandth time—Ryan’s kisses. Each time, like now, her pulse raced at the thought. And each time, like now, she pushed those thoughts away, wishing she could forget. Forget the kiss. Forget Ryan. And each time, like now, she couldn’t.
With a weary sigh, she went back to her task of making lunch. She’d invited Cheryl over. Whether it was wise or not, she needed to talk. Not necessarily about Ryan. But about Brad. Maybe she was being too hasty. Maybe she was letting what happened in the mountains cloud her feelings. She’d already spoken to Morgan, told her about the kiss, about the feelings Ryan brought out in her. That may have been a mistake; Morgan was Ryan’s friend, not hers. But she’d been so out of sorts, she just needed to talk to someone. She appreciated Morgan allowing her that, but she really needed to talk it out with Cheryl. Cheryl knew her. She would know what to say to her. And she would listen.
She’d met Cheryl for lunch the second day she’d been back, and she’d very nearly blurted it all out then. Ryan. The kiss. Her feelings for Brad or lack thereof. But Cheryl had been so excited to see her, had so many things to get her caught up on that she hadn’t wanted to spoil it. They chatted like the old friends they were, and she never once mentioned the turmoil she was going through. Today, however, would be different. She’d already warned Cheryl she wanted to talk.
She’d just finished putting the taco salad together when Cheryl knocked.
“Come on in,” she called.
Cheryl found her in the kitchen and gave her a quick, customary hug. “Is it too early for wine?”
Jen smiled. “You know I’m not much of a wine drinker.”
“I know. But you sounded like you wanted to have a serious discussion. This is more for me than you.”
Jan laughed. “Maybe I should have a glass then.”
Their conversation was light and easy while they ate, ranging from gossip about mutual acquaintances to the unusually warm weather they were having for late April. Cheryl was really the only close friend Jen had ever had and one of the few people she felt comfortable around. When Cheryl filled her wineglass for the second time, Jen realized how much time had already passed.
“I know you didn’t invite me over to chitchat,” Cheryl said. “Something’s bothering you. What is it?”
Jen shoved her plate aside, as did Cheryl. “Oh, I don’t even know where to start,” she said.
“I’ll guess it has to do with Brad.”
Jen’s eyebrows shot up.
“He called me. He said you’ve been avoiding him since you got back. Wanted to know if you’d said anything to me,” Cheryl said. “As if I’d tell him anyway.”
Jen smiled. “I do feel...different,” she said. “And it is about Brad. Mostly.”
“You can talk to me about anything, you know that.”
“I know. Thank you for that.” She still wasn’t certain she knew where to start. She decided to share the one fact she knew to be true. “I’m not in love with him.”
Cheryl’s eyes widened slightly. “Okay.”
Jen took her wineglass and twirled it absently between her fingers. “I haven’t slept with him. Since I’ve been back, I mean.”
“Wow. No wonder he called me.”
“I’ve had my doubts for a while, really. That’s one reason I booked the workshop in the first place,” she said. “I wanted that time away, time to reflect on our relationship, to see if I really wanted to spend the rest of my life with him.”
“And I guess you came to a conclusion.”
“I’m not in love with him, and I don’t want to have sex with him.” Jen smiled. “So yeah.”
“You haven’t told him anything?”
“No. But surely he knows how things are between us. Surely he can tell.”
Cheryl took a sip from her wine. “I’m sure he’s considered the possibility,” she said. “He told me you weren’t the same.”
Jen nodded. “I’ve changed. I know I have. I’ve changed tenfold since we first met. I mean, you know about my past. You know how I was.”
“You’ve changed since I met you. You have much more confidence now.”
“Yes. And I’m still changing.”
Jen stood, going to the same window she’d stared out of earlier. She folded her hands together, wanting so badly to tell Cheryl everything. About Ryan. About the kiss. About how much she missed her. She turned back around, finding Cheryl’s watchful eyes on her.
“Do you think someone could go through adolescence and into adulthood and not realize that they might be...might be gay?”
Cheryl slowly shook her head. “No. I don’t think so.”
“I think maybe they could. If they were sheltered. If they didn’t even know about such things.”
Cheryl stood too, joining her at the window. She cleared her throat before speaking.
“Are you talking about yourself?”
Jen nodded, unable to look at her.
“What’s going on, Jen?”
She took a deep breath. “I kissed her. She kissed me.” She looked at Cheryl. “We kissed.”
“She?”
“Ryan. The woman who rescued me.”
“And...she’s gay?”
Jen nodded.
“I see. And that’s why you think you’re not in love with Brad?”
“No.” She shook her head. “No. I told you I had been feeling this way about him for a while now. Ryan has nothing to do with Brad.”
“What kind of a name is Ryan anyway?”
“I don’t know. It may be her last name. She’s a very private person.”
“Okay, wait a minute,” Cheryl said, holding up her hands. “You
kissed
her? Really?”
“Yes.”
“What kind of a kiss?” she asked hesitantly.
“It was an ‘I want to rip your clothes off’ kind of kiss,” she admitted. And it was. If they’d been at the cabin instead of on the side of a mountain, she was certain that was exactly what would have happened.
“I see,” Cheryl said again. “And now you think you’re gay? Jen, girls—women—they sometimes—”
“No, it’s not like that. I spent seven weeks there. I was attracted to her. And during the course of those seven weeks, I admitted it, I acknowledged it, I accepted it. Yet we never once talked about it. Not really. There were times when I thought she was going to kiss me, but she never did. And I wanted her to.”
“Then when?”
“When I was leaving. Right before the sheriff picked me up.” Jen met her eyes. “For the first time in my life, there were fireworks from a kiss. I actually felt butterflies in my stomach,” she said, blushing.