A Promise of Fireflies (42 page)

The trail of her words hung in the air.

Nothing could have prepared him for the devastating loss that threatened to split him in two. Living without the woman who had shown him he could love again blinded him from the past and sheltered the future. But guilt had won, overshadowing any rational thought of a future beyond his transgressions.

With his thoughts in an upheaval of confusion, he would have sold his soul to the devil for an answer.

RYLEIGH CLOSED FROST’S
book of poetry and bunched her knees to her chest. A fleece throw warmed her outside, but her insides were as cold as the icicles hanging from the eaves. Reading the words only reopened the scar left on her heart.

The sky had turned from gloomy to angry and dusted the lawn with snow. Kingsley jumped to the sofa mercifully disrupting her thoughts and curled himself at her side. She massaged her fingers behind his ears and the cat settled into a noisy purr. “This is the first snowstorm since…” Emotion tangled her words as she watched the snow accumulate, as did recollections of another snowstorm not long past.

“Earth to Ryleigh? Are you in there or somewhere fabulous with your gorgeous imaginary hunks?”

“Hey, Nat.” Ryleigh quickly tucked the book beside her, patting the cushion for Natalie to sit. “I didn’t hear you knock.”

“I have a key, remember?”

“Remind me to change the locks,” she said, and forced a smile.

Natalie sat next to her, the movement jostling the cat. “You wouldn’t dare. Who’d take care of this mangy cat when you’re away? Right, Kingsley?” At the sound of his name, the cat rose, leered at Natalie, and sauntered off. “I swear that cat hates me.” Natalie rested her chin on her knees. “Your eyes aren’t smiling. Time to fess up, my friend. Besides, you won’t answer your phone. And when you act like this, I launch into rescue mode.”

“I don’t need rescuing.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Natalie shrugged. “But whatever’s going on, maybe I need to be here?”

Ryleigh faced her, the need to be upfront more important to herself than her best friend. “It’s the first snowstorm since Whisper of the Pines.”

Natalie nodded.

“I should have heard something by now.”

“About what? Your publishing date?”

“No, those dates are set. PrestWood fast-tracked publication. The book will be out in mid-May.”

“You don’t sound too excited about it.”

“I’m thrilled—if I don’t go to jail first for killing my son,” she said, and shot Natalie a conspiratorial glare. “I thought I could trust him
and
my friend with my manuscript.”

Natalie squirmed. “You wouldn’t be cashing a fat check and getting ready for book signings if Evan and Demi hadn’t sneaked it to the publisher.”

“I’m teasing. I’m extremely grateful.”

“So, if not your book, what is it?”

Ryleigh retrieved the Frost book and handed it to her. Only weeks old, the cover already showed signs of wear.

“Frost. Your fave.”

“Open it.”

Natalie opened the book, removed the bookmark and read aloud.

“‘Dear Cabin Number Three,

These last few days have opened my eyes in more ways than you will ever know. Three years ago, I stopped believing in miracles. Three days ago, you were my miracle. The moment I saw you standing on the deck in the storm, I witnessed an angel with a halo as pure as gold surrounding her and God’s promises stirred in my heart. I thought I’d fallen in love again with God, but I was mistaken. I already loved Him. It was you I’d fallen in love with.

I will not know a night’s sleep without reaching for your touch. I will not take a breath without your delicate scent a reminder of your flesh against mine. I will not open my eyes to the night without beholding the purr of moonlight on your skin. I will not hear the rush of a river without hearing your laughter in its lullaby, and I will not speak without the whisper of your name escaping on the wind. I will not seek the warmth of a fire without the memory of flames dancing in your ocean green eyes. And my heart froze as surely as the ice when you slipped from my grasp.

I can’t quiet the resounding unrest I feel without you, nor can I deny the irrevocable truth of a betrayed promise. My transgressions weigh heavily upon me, yet how can I feel regret for what we shared? As I try to remember everything about you, the memory is nothing compared to your flesh as one with mine. Until the day the Lord calls me home, you will forever be a part of me, Cabin Number Three—the woman with the eyes the color of the inside of an ocean wave. Believe me when I tell you I never meant to hurt you. Ti prego, perdonami. Please forgive me.

‘Fireflies hover out of fingertip’s reach, just beyond capture they flutter and sway—so close I can feel them as I feel you, your tender embrace though we’re oceans away.

Eternally,

~ Logan’”

Natalie’s mouth gaped.

A soft blush warmed Ryleigh’s cheeks. “We met in the Reading Room at the resort. I told him I favored Robert Frost’s poetry but didn’t see anything by him, so he brought this for the library the next day,” she said, nodding at the book in Nat’s hand. “He must have slipped it in my suitcase the day I left.”

Natalie sighed, flipping the bookmark between her fingers.

“The first evening we ended up in the sleigh together and he dropped me off at my cabin. I didn’t offer my name, so he called me ‘Cabin Number Three.’ He rarely called me anything else.”

“Holy shit! How romantic.”

“I warned you this place was magical.”

“It’s a fairytale come to life.”

“More like fiction.” Ryleigh sighed. “I haven’t heard from him since.”

“What’re you gonna do?”

“Nothing. Stupidity is one of those things we see clearly after the fact. Silly me,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I took a chance and it didn’t work out. And now I feel like my heart is being ripped apart.”

“Why didn’t you call him?”

“I made the first move. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“There’s nothing wrong with taking a chance. Sometimes it needs no consideration, it’s just…right.”

Ryleigh picked at her nails.

“Second thoughts?”

“Plenty. But I knew the risks.” She blew a breath through puffed cheeks. “I started a fire I don’t know how to put out.”

“Maybe it’s just supposed to simmer.”

“Maybe,” she said, pleating the fleece between her fingers, “but it’s hard, you know? To wait for something you know won’t happen.”

“You sure about that?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said with a definitive nod. “What’s even harder is letting go completely, when what you’re giving up is everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

“What’s your next step?”

She took a deep breath. “Being with him proved I can love again. Move on. And,” she said and then hesitated, “I know Chandler can’t be part of my life.”

“It’s about time,” Natalie said, glancing sideways at her. “But it won’t be easy telling him.”

“I haven’t had the courage to face him. So far it’s just a bold statement from the mouth of a coward.”

“Umm, Riles?” The bookmark settled in Nat’s hand. “This isn’t a bookmark. It’s a business card,” she said, confusion settling into a grin. “Logan Cavanaugh’s business card.”

“I didn’t know who he was at first.”

“Wait a sec,” Natalie frowned, “the inscription in the book—his?” She stabbed a finger at the book. “
My
Logan? Well, not
my
Logan.”

“Yes,
your
Logan.” Ryleigh smiled hesitantly. “And yes, his words. Except for the last verse. He must have memorized it from one of Ryan’s poems.”

“Okay,” Natalie settled firmly into the cushions, “from the beginning.”

Ryleigh told her the story, minus a few details. “When I left, Rose told me he was going back to the church.”

“Excuse me?”

“He’s a minister.”

Nat’s eyes widened. “No way,” she said, fanning herself.

“He betrayed his promise he made to his dying wife. And it’s my fault.” Her chin fell to her knees. “Of all the people in the world, I fell for someone I can’t have.”

Nat scrunched her nose. “I have a feeling there’s a lot more to this story.”

“He rescued me that weekend, Nat.” She smiled at the recollection. “Twice.” A breath of cold swept over her and the tiny hairs on her arms rose in silent reminder.

“I’m listening.”

“I don’t know how spending three days with someone can change your entire perspective. Your life. Your future. He made me feel whole again. Like I belonged with him.” She frowned. “I’ve never known anyone so attentive to what I said or did.” She rubbed her hands in quiet contemplation and then twirled her hair around her finger. “And he saved me when I fell through the ice—”

Natalie sat upright. “What?”

“I didn’t drown.”

“Unless I’m talking to a ghost, I figured that much out on my own.”

She told Nat how she had wandered too close to the water’s edge and the ice had given way. And though she’d never been reluctant to tell her friend about anything, she couldn’t bring herself to reveal the intimate secrets shared with only one person. Even being the wordsmith she was, she couldn’t find words. Nor did she want to.

“Do you have a picture of this knight in shining armor?”

Ryleigh swiped a moist cheek with the back of her hand. “The camera fell into two feet of snow. Or maybe the river. I went swimming before we’d had a chance to take any pictures.”

“Jesus, Ryleigh. Do I want to know how he saved you the second time?”

“He taught me to love again. It’s as if I’ve been sleepwalking through life and I didn’t know how to start over. I never knew how close,” she said, clenching her hands to her chest, “how intimately into someone you can become so quickly. It’s as though I was born to be with him. Does that make any sense?”

“I found Mitch, didn’t I?”

Ryleigh nodded. “Logan awoke a part of me I didn’t know was dormant. Loving him felt so right.” Recalling the memory struck her hard, but she forced herself to swallow past the pain of remembrance. “Somehow he saw through me, the lost me, and showed me the courage to believe in myself and accept my past—not following in someone’s footsteps, but my own path. I’d become someone I thought I was supposed to be, instead of just me. And who knew a pastor could be so sensual and so damn sexy?” Her eyes sparkled. “That part doesn’t seem right somehow.”

“Remember
The Thorn Birds
?”

“That’s fiction.”

“The point is, Riles, he may be a man of God, but he’s a man first.”

She sighed. “I may have lost him, but to experience what we had comes once in a lifetime and if this was my chance, then I consider myself lucky. Even if it was only one intimately long weekend.” She rested her head on her knees. “I never had that kind of passion with Chandler,” she said, picking specks of lint from the throw.

Tears stained the knees of Nat’s jeans and she pressed a finger to the spots. “It’s reassuring to be so well-protected and cared for by someone you adore, and when you give your heart and expect nothing in return, love takes root and grows into something indescribable.”

“Yeah, well, it seems all I nurture is a crop of weeds and a lopsided set of morals.”

Natalie laughed. “Your so-called whacked out moral dogmas got you laid, didn’t they?”

“Only from the mouth of my smart-ass friend.”

“Told you those weenie wraps might come in handy.”

Natalie’s pixie-like grin made her smile too.

Outside, snow fell in lazy curtains, a quiet world draped in white. “God, I miss him,” Ryleigh whispered and opened the Frost book, “and I’m scared I’ll forget his smile and the taste of his kiss.”
Moist and sweet with Italian wine
. With her finger, she traced the words written in a strong right slant, the ink beneath her fingertips drawing him from the page as if their skin had touched. “I never want to forget the deep timbre of his laugh or the way he says my name, it’s the whisper on my pillow that carries me through my dreams.”
The warmth and security of his body next to mine.
“The only thing I have to remember him by is a T-shirt from The Stanley Hotel. The book. A shirt of his that I slept in and a bowl overflowing with green M&M’s.”

“Your mom saved the green ones too.”

Ryleigh nodded.

“You okay?”

“I have to be. Logan’s not coming back.” Ryleigh bunched her shoulders to her ears. “But I have a life to live, a book to promote and another to write. I’ve said goodnight to one life and hello to another. My characters can’t keep me warm, but they’re pretty good company.”

“Another book?”

Ryleigh sighed. “I finished the manuscript just to say I did it. Now PrestWood Publishing wants two more.”

“That’s awesome!” Nat said, squeezing her arm.

“And Evan’s magazine wants to use Ryan’s poems and letters for a series on Vietnam. But I can’t decide whether to share the letters. Seems like an invasion of their privacy.”

“How’d they find out about the journal and the letters?”

Ryleigh glared at her. “Evidently keeping secrets isn’t one of my son’s finer qualities. Or my best friend’s.”