"He said something to you?"

"Tonight he told me Aaron and I are heading down the wrong road. He asked me not to bring drugs to the house, said Aaron's getting in over his head. But I don't know why Dylan's blaming me. Aaron has plenty of ways to get what he wants. It's not like I'm his pusher. I share with him. He shares with me. That's all."

"So that's where your money's going."

"He pays for his share, and when he pays I deliver."

Then Dylan was right. "That's got to stop!"

"It will. Soon."

After Anita died. Once she figured out a way to cope. But Cheyenne feared whatever she was taking would have too strong a hold on her by then. Dylan was obviously worried about Aaron, too. But five o'clock in the morning probably wasn't the best time to force the issue.

Cheyenne took a deep breath. "Have you checked on Mom?"

"No, I haven't. Sometimes I'm just...too afraid to go in there."

"I'll do it." Cheyenne swung her legs over the bed, but Presley stopped her.

"How did it end tonight? With Dylan?"

"He brought me home about one."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"No bumping and grinding? No wet kisses or wild orgasms?"

Guilt welled up, along with the heat of a blush, making Cheyenne glad it was dark. "No."

"How disappointing."

Cheyenne rolled her eyes. "Actually, he's taking me out tomorrow night-if you're available to stay with Mom."

"I was scheduled to work, but Carolyn can cover my shift. She's looking for more hours to help with the cost of Christmas."

"You're sure?"

"Positive. She asked me if I had any she could take."

"So you'll do it?"

"Of course."

Cheyenne studied what she could see of her sister's face. "How well do you know Dylan?"

"We've been friends a long time."

"Not close friends."

"No, but I've seen a lot of him."

"Do you think he's someone I can trust?"

"I think he'd be good in bed. Why does everything have to be so serious with you?"

"Because I don't want to pay the price of screwing up my life!"

Sobering, Presley glared at her. "You're such a killjoy."

"Choices have consequences, Pres. That's not my doing."

Her hand went to her stomach. "I need to tell you something."

A prickle of unease ran down Cheyenne's spine. "What's that?"

"I might be pregnant."

Unease instantly turned to nausea. "What? And you're still doing drugs?"

"It's not for sure. I'm just late, that's all."

Oh, God. "Whose baby is it?"

"Whose do you think?"

She seemed offended by the question, but Cheyenne had to ask. Sometimes Presley went home with total strangers she met at the casino. And there was that date last weekend. "Aaron's?"

"Of course. He's the only one I've been with recently, at least without protection," she added under her breath.

Cheyenne didn't know what to say. Her mouth hung open as she tried to absorb this news.

"Never mind." She waved Cheyenne off with a grimace. "It's not your problem. I'll take care of it myself. It's not the end of the world, you know?"

"Meaning..."

"I'll get an abortion."

Whether or not to end a pregnancy wasn't something Cheyenne was prepared to consider-for her sister or herself. She raked her fingers through her hair. "Does Aaron know about the possibility?"

"No. There's no reason to tell him. He won't want it. He's no more ready for a child than I am."

Cheyenne swallowed hard. "You need to tell him."

"No."

"But maybe you're wrong about him not wanting it. Maybe-"

"Trust me, the Amoses are not the marrying kind. So if you like Dylan, watch out. Whatever you do, don't expect a commitment," she said, and left.

Knees suddenly too weak to carry her to Anita's room, Cheyenne sagged onto the bed. She'd already had sex with Dylan without birth control once. It'd happened so fast she hadn't thought much about it, other than to assure herself that it hadn't been when she was ovulating.

But, even so, there was a chance....

Was she letting herself drift down the same turbulent stream as her sister?

The fear that welled up said she was. What was she thinking, agreeing to see Dylan? If they got involved, it would never culminate in the kind of relationship she wanted. Presley had warned her as clearly as Eve. And, unlike Eve, Presley would know.

Which was why, when Joe called midmorning to ask her to come over and help him decorate the tree they'd bought together, she said yes.

It was also why she called Dylan as soon as she hung up with Joe and broke their date.

Eve had scrimped and saved for this vacation for months. She'd thought she'd enjoy it more than she was. But she'd decided that two weeks was too long to be gone. She couldn't wait to get home.

"What's wrong with you?"

Turning away from the sun glimmering off the azure ocean, Eve faced Callie, who was lying on the lounge chair next to hers. They were out of port, so they were spending the morning at the pool on the top deck of the cruise ship. "What do you mean?"

"You've been so quiet the past few days."

She shifted the elastic on her bikini to make sure she didn't end up with two different tan lines. "I'm worried about Cheyenne."

"You called her, didn't you?"

"Yes..."

"Didn't she sound okay? You said her mother is still alive."

"She is." For a change, Eve's concerns didn't pertain to Anita.

Callie slid her sunglasses up to the bridge of her nose. "I'm so glad. I've been afraid she might pass away while we're gone. We really should be there when it happens."

"I know." Eve had two brothers, but both were significantly older and lived elsewhere. Cheyenne was the sister she'd never had. If not for the love she felt for her best friend, she probably would've resented the fact that Joe preferred her. As it was, she was sort of excited that Cheyenne might finally have found a man who'd love and appreciate her the way she deserved.

"So...is it Joe?" Callie asked.

Eve anchored her hair behind her ears to stop the wind from whipping it around her face. "No. I just wish I hadn't announced to the world that I was interested in him. Then I wouldn't have to keep explaining that I'm okay. You know how I feel about Chey. She's never had anything. I can take this on the chin for her."

"You're a true friend." Callie reached out to squeeze her arm. "I guessed you'd feel that way."

"I'm more disappointed than hurt," she said. "Joe and I went out to dinner once, and it was at my invitation. It's not as if we were engaged."

Callie made a face. "At this rate I wonder if any of us will ever get engaged."

"I guess we're late bloomers. Only Kyle's been married. And Gail. She hit the jackpot."

"Sophia, too."

Her eyes drifted to the pool, where the guys were swimming or hanging out along the edge. Again, Eve wondered about Callie and Kyle but knew better than to ask. "Sophia's married. She didn't hit the jackpot, though."

"True. Skip's a jerk."

"But he is rich."

"Doesn't matter. She's miserable."

Eve wiggled her toes, admiring her new pedicure. "And she doesn't count, anyway."

"Why not?"

"She wasn't part of our group in high school. She had her own posse and made good use of them, remember? They were your classic *mean girls.'"

"I think she's changed."

"Maybe. Maybe not. I'm glad she couldn't come on the cruise. Ted hates that she keeps hanging around."

They could see small splashes as Ted swam laps. "Do you think it's because he still has a thing for her?"

"He'd kill us for even suggesting it, but...I wouldn't be surprised. Maybe he's got a string of women coming to his place. It's certainly romantic up there. But I don't get that impression, so...he might be holding a candle."

"What about you and Kyle?" The words popped out before Eve could check them.

Callie yawned and stretched. "What about us?"

"You seem to be pretty close."

"We are. I helped him through his divorce from that crazy bitch he married."

"You're not sleeping together...."

With a scowl, Callie tossed a towel at her. "No!"

Eve knocked it away. "You sure?"

"I'm positive! It's strictly platonic. I wouldn't want to be with him while he's on the rebound, anyway."

That qualified her response, and made Eve wonder even more, but she didn't push it any further. She could tell by Callie's reaction that it would be pointless. She'd only get more protestations of friendship.

"There is some romantic tension in our little group, though," Callie said, settling back in her chaise.

"Involving..."

She lifted her sunglasses. "Baxter."

Eve adjusted her chair so she could sit up a little straighter. Callie couldn't have picked a friend who surprised her more. "Baxter and who else?"