That was easy for Noah to say, Cheyenne thought. His future didn’t depend on the bed-and-breakfast.
“There are human beings behind businesses. Eve has always believed that running The Gold Nugget would be her future.”
Everyone glanced at one another as if they were shocked it was Sophia who’d contributed this. She and her husband were the wealthiest people in town—not counting Simon, who’d married Gail a year ago. One would think if anyone was going to weigh in on the side of ruthless business practices, it would be Sophia, who’d chosen to break Ted’s heart and marry for money.
“The problem will still be here when you get back,” Riley said, reiterating Callie’s sentiment. “Tackle it then. For now, the inn is my baby. You have better things to think about.”
He was referring to the cruise, of course. But that wasn’t where Eve’s mind went. Cheyenne could tell by the smile that broke out across her face. “I do have better things to think about,” she agreed. “One of them is dinner with Joe DeMarco.”
Cheyenne nearly dropped her cappuccino. Eve had sworn her to secrecy. She’d said she didn’t want anyone to know how she felt about Joe, not until she’d had the chance to see if he returned her interest. Did his agreement to have dinner mean that?
“So…is this a date?” Callie was instantly intrigued; they all were.
Blushing slightly, Eve rolled back the foil lid of her orange juice. “It is.”
Baxter crossed one leg over the other. Although he usually worked at home on Fridays, he was dressed in one of his hand-tailored suits, signifying he had business in San Francisco. “Since when have you been seeing Joe?”
“Tonight will be our first evening out. But…I’ve had my eye on him for ages.”
Cheyenne couldn’t look up. She didn’t want to meet anyone’s gaze, didn’t want her friends to realize that she felt as if she’d just been kicked in the stomach. Eve hadn’t had her eye on Joe nearly as long as Cheyenne had. But she couldn’t say so. Eve’s announcement made Joe hers, whether he felt the same or not.
“He needs to start seeing someone.” Callie put her plastic spoon into an empty yogurt container. “How long has it been since his divorce?”
Noah answered. “I was getting back from my first race in Europe when I heard, so it would have to be four, five years ago.”
“The divorce was hard on him,” Baxter commented.
Riley’s chair scraped the wood floor as he made room for his son, who’d returned with his muffin. “What his ex-wife did would’ve been hard on anybody.”
“I think he’s seen a few women over the past couple of years, but no one from around here,” Ted volunteered.
“And no one who’s as perfect for him as I am,” Eve joked.
When everyone chuckled, Cheyenne tried to laugh, too, but couldn’t manage much more than a pained smile. She wanted to say she had to check on her mother so she could slip out. But she’d driven over with Eve.
Forcing herself to sit quietly, she pretended the same happy interest the others exhibited as Sophia said how delighted Gail would be, and Ted teased that it was about time the reluctant-to-commit Eve settled on someone. It’d been three years since her last relationship.
Soon talk of Eve and Joe died down, but the next subject didn’t make Chey feel much better. Ted told everyone about the tourist information he’d found online. Callie went over what to pack for the cruise. And Eve asked whether or not to buy traveler’s checks—all for a trip Cheyenne couldn’t take.
When they finally began to disperse, Cheyenne breathed a sigh of relief. Callie had to open her photography studio by ten. Baxter had a long drive to reach his office in San Francisco. Ted was behind on his deadline. They all had work to do. Since this was the last day The Gold Nugget would be open until after the first of the year—not to mention the last day it would operate under its current name—Chey was just as eager to start her day. She couldn’t expect her short-order cook to wrap up breakfast alone.
But just as she slid out of the booth, Noah clasped her arm. “What will you do while we’re gone?” he asked.
She could tell by his sympathetic expression that he felt bad she wasn’t able to join them, so she mustered yet another smile—and prayed it was more convincing than the ones that had come before. “The same. Taking care of my mother.”
But with the way things were going she’d probably be burying Anita instead. And to make her Christmas even merrier, she’d most likely have to drag her sister back to rehab.
* * *
It was pathetic to drive past Eve’s house so many times. Especially because she’d left her mother alone in order to do it. But Cheyenne couldn’t seem to stop herself. She had to know what time Eve got home, had to see if Joe kissed her at the door…or was invited inside.
Eve lived on her parents’ property, but she had her own small bungalow in back, which afforded her enough privacy to be able to entertain a lover. As long as Joe parked his car off the premises, her aging parents would never notice if their daughter had overnight company. When they weren’t traveling in the motor home they’d bought when their financial situation still looked good, they went to bed early and, for the most part, let Eve visit them at the main house instead of trudging back to her place.
The fact that Eve would, no doubt, provide a detailed recap of the evening added to the guilt that troubled Cheyenne. They shared everything. But Cheyenne wasn’t planning to ask about Joe. She hoped Eve would be so caught up in getting ready for the cruise that they wouldn’t have to talk about him. She couldn’t continue to pretend approval and support when each word Eve said cut like broken glass.
Besides, she didn’t want to see the man she loved through Eve’s eyes. She wanted to see him through her own. She’d memorized every encounter they’d ever had, every nuance of his expression, tone and body language. She was hoping that would help her determine whether or not he was excited about Eve or merely being polite. He was nice enough to accept a dinner invitation from just about any woman.
Cheyenne should know how kind he was. He’d always made her feel good, despite the unkempt way she’d looked when they first met or the number of guys in Whiskey Creek who wouldn’t date her in the early years. Although Chey had never slept with anyone—Joe was the only man she’d ever dreamed of touching in that way—Presley and Anita had gone to bed with any man who showed interest. The Christensens were barely one step above J. T. Amos’s clan, who were always fighting and going to jail or getting busted for dealing drugs. At least the people in Whiskey Creek had learned to differentiate between her and the rest of her family.
She’d been listening to the car radio to pass the time, but the noise made her nervous. Turning it off, she pulled down the tree-lined dirt road that led to the neighbors’ farm and stopped just beyond Eve’s house. From there she’d be able to tell when a car arrived. If she got out and stood hidden in the shrubs, she might even be able to ascertain what went on at the door.
Five minutes passed before she decided she couldn’t invade her friend’s privacy out of her own jealousy. Why would she betray the one person who’d brought some legitimacy to her life? Who’d convinced her that she could rise above her situation? Who’d made her whole in a way she’d never been whole before?
With a curse for her own weakness, she started up the Oldsmobile she’d bought from Henry Statham over in Jackson last Christmas and swung it around. But before she could drive out of the lane and onto the paved road, headlights appeared. A vehicle was cresting the hill.
Afraid it might be Joe and Eve and that they’d see her, Cheyenne backed up and switched off the car again. She had to remain hidden by the trees. The Olds was too distinctive; she couldn’t hope to drive by them and