"It's no use." She swept her flashlight through the trees. "I've looked everywhere."

He took her hand, toyed with her cold fingers, then pulled her to him and rested his chin on her head. "She's going to be okay."

There were no guarantees, but Cheyenne preferred to believe him. She certainly didn't want to face any of the other possibilities. "When do you want to go out?" she asked.

"There's no rush. You can call me when you're ready. I just...I want you to give me a chance."

"I'm not a safe bet, Dylan," she said into his T-shirt. "You know that."

He kissed her temple. "I think that's what you're holding against me."

Presley woke in the sleeper of a semi. The man who'd picked her up was driving. She could hear and feel the motion of the truck. But she was naked beneath a blanket so she knew they probably hadn't been on the road for long.

Squinting in the darkness, she shoved herself into a sitting position so she could see who she was with. When she saw it was a man somewhere in his late fifties and that he was obese and terribly unattractive even in the dim light of the instrument panel, she nearly groaned out loud.

"What time is it?" she asked, her voice raspy.

"Nearly two."

She pressed her fingers to her temples in an effort to ease the pounding. "Where are we?"

He used the rearview mirror to look back at her. "Near Phoenix. You hungry? I can stop at a hole-in-the-wall cafe I know. They cater to truckers so they're open twenty-four hours."

She wasn't hungry. She was never hungry. She just wanted more meth, Oxycontin, pot, anything that would dull the awareness dawning on her. "You don't happen to know a dealer in Phoenix, do you?"

"No. I've never done drugs. My wife would divorce me if I did." He winked at her. "But I've got more Jack Daniel's, if that'll help."

She remembered drinking with him hours ago. That was probably the reason she had such a splitting headache. "I've had enough of that."

"Want me to pull over at the next stop? I could give you another massage."

The way he smiled at her certainly didn't help the roiling in her stomach. "There's no chance you're a serial killer, is there?"

His eyes widened as if she couldn't possibly have meant that hopeful inflection. "Oh, no! Don't worry. You're the one who wanted to...you know. I would never hurt you."

The truck rumbled beneath her as she sank back onto the pillow and stared up at the blackness. "That's what I thought."

"You seem disappointed," he said with an uncomfortable laugh.

"I am. Would it be so hard to put me out of my misery? Maybe you could just push me out while we're driving."

"That would kill you." He sounded shocked. "I told you I'm not going to hurt you. You're such a beautiful girl. Why would you have a death wish?"

She didn't answer.

"Maybe you're a little crazy, but you're a hellcat in bed. It's been a long time since I've had sex that good. I owe you."

She thought of Aaron and the pain in her head and chest became so acute she nearly blacked out. He was the only one she wanted, but he didn't want her. And now she was carrying his child. She wasn't sure what to do about the situation. She knew she shouldn't be drinking or using. The over-the-counter test she'd taken just after Cheyenne left for A Victorian Christmas with Joe confirmed it. But if she was going to end the pregnancy anyway... "I want to get out."

"What?"

"Pull over and let me out!"

"I can't do that here! We're in the middle of the Sonoran desert."

"So?" She rested one arm over her eyes. "I'll walk."

"It's too cold outside. And it'd take you hours to get to Phoenix."

She didn't argue. She didn't care enough about anything to put up a fight. Her mother was dead. Her sister wasn't really her sister. She was pregnant. And the man she'd considered her boyfriend didn't give a shit about her.

"Presley?"

Why had she told this man her name? Couldn't he tell that she didn't even want to see him? "Yes?"

"Are you okay with Phoenix? Can I let you out there?"

Phoenix was good as anywhere. "Whatever."

Cheyenne checked Presley's room as soon as she woke up. Still empty. So she went to the front door, hoping her sister's car might be in the drive despite her absence from the house.

Except for the Oldsmobile, the drive was empty, as well. Not really a surprise, despite all her wishing it could be otherwise. There was, however, a rose and a card on the doorstep where the hospice nurse had left a meal last night-a meal Cheyenne had taken in before searching the riverbank but hadn't eaten.

In spite of the cold, she scooped up those small gifts and walked outside to sit in her sister's chair. But when she saw the ashtray perched precariously on the banister, she didn't even bother to open the card, which she assumed someone had left because of Anita's death.

Her phone rang, cutting through the worry that held her in such a tight grip. She'd kept her cell with her every minute since Presley had gone missing. But this wasn't her sister, either. It was the casino, wondering whether or not Presley would be coming in to work later.

Although Cheyenne explained to Presley's boss that their mother's death, which she'd told him about yesterday, was hitting her sister hard, he hardly seemed sympathetic. He managed another perfunctory, "I'm sorry." Then he told her that Presley would lose her job if she didn't make it in tonight. They were short-staffed and couldn't get anyone else to fill in over the holidays.

Hoping Presley's friend, Carolyn, might've heard from her, or that she could cover the shift and buy Presley some more time, Cheyenne called her.

"Have you heard from her?" she asked as soon as Carolyn picked up. She left the card that she'd found on the doorstep in her lap but held the flower to her nose.

"No, nothing. And I've called her phone a million times."

There was no guarantee Presley even had her cell with her. If the ringing bothered her, she could've thrown it out the window. When she was high, there was no telling what she might do. That was how she'd wound up getting a tattoo depicting wild beasts devouring innocent prey covering one whole arm. "It's a dog-eat-dog world," she'd said when Cheyenne had asked why she'd chosen something so violent.

Cheyenne had just thanked Carolyn for agreeing to cover Presley's shift when a call from Eve beeped through. No doubt Riley had let her know what was happening. Cheyenne had told him not to-Eve couldn't do anything from the Caribbean-but she had to admit it was nice to see that familiar name pop up on caller ID.

"Chey, did you find her?" Eve asked without preamble.

"No."

"I can't believe she'd do this."

"You can't believe it or you don't want to believe it?"

"You're right. I don't want to believe it. Where do you think she went?"

"She could've gone anywhere."

"And here I am, stranded on this damn boat." She made a sound of annoyance. "I asked if I could get off early, but there's no way. I'm stuck until we dock in Puerto Rico."

Cheyenne gazed out across the yard. "Thanks for trying."

"I never should have left Whiskey Creek."

"So Riley told you about my mom, too?"

"He did. He called last night, worried when he came over to help search for Presley and you weren't home."

"He helped me all afternoon. He didn't need to do more."

"He feels bad. We all do."

She studied the flower in her hands. "He must've been the one who brought me this rose."

"What rose?"

"I found it on the doorstep."

"You don't know for sure?"

"Hang on." She propped the phone to her ear with one shoulder while reading the card. "Actually, it's not from him."

"Who's it from?"

Cheyenne might've shied away from mentioning that it was the guy Eve had wanted, except that at this point she was too numb to lie. "Joe."

Maybe Eve was faking it, but she sounded enthusiastic. "That's nice! How do you know?"

"There's a card with it."

"What does it say?"

"It's just your basic sympathy card," she said, but it was much more than that. He'd written that he felt bad for what she was going through and wanted to be there for her. He'd also written that he wanted to talk to her about Dylan.

"So how are things between you?"

"I like him. He's nice."

"That's it?"

She rested her head on the back of her chair. "I'm not capable of any more right now. All I know is that Dylan is the one I want to get naked with." There, she'd said it.

After a slight pause, Eve said, "Chey, Dylan has a certain...magnetism. I've felt it. I'm sure most women have. But think about what it would be like trying to maintain a relationship with him, what he might be like after the initial excitement. Joe's a family man. He's dependable, steady."

Dylan had raised his brothers. He'd stuck with them regardless of how difficult life became. How could anyone be more of a family man than that? Or steadier?

Still, she knew what Eve meant and couldn't argue. Last night she'd felt guilty for judging him by Aaron's misdeeds, but Dylan's checkered past also spoke against him. "You think what I'm feeling is merely lust?"

"You've never been to bed with anyone but him. Sex has created a bond between you. That's what it's meant to do. But...you can't let physical attraction get in the way of what's best for you. Who's more likely to help you build the life you want?"

"How do I know? I can only see so far down the road."

"But if you aren't careful, if you take a wrong turn, you'll wind up at a dead end."

"Isn't that why you have to trust your gut?"

"I think, in this case, it might be smarter to trust your friends."

Cheyenne saw Dylan's Jeep coming down the road and jumped to her feet. She knew he could simply be heading home for lunch. He and his brothers went past her place all the time. But he turned in.

"He's here," she whispered into the phone.

"Let me talk to him," Eve said.

Cheyenne lowered her head so Dylan wouldn't be able to see her face. "No."

"I'll be nice."

"You won't. You're too protective of me. You feel my mother's already shortchanged me and you're not going to let anyone else do the same."

"Damn right!"

"See? I'll talk to you when you get off the boat." She hung up as Dylan approached.

"Any word on Presley?" he asked.

Putting her phone on the railing next to the ashtray, she shook her head. "What are you doing home this time of day?"

"Work's over."

"At noon?"

"We closed up early for Christmas Eve."

Cheyenne hadn't realized what day it was; she'd lost track in the haze of recent events. "Oh. Right. I guess it is. Where're your brothers?"

"They went to grab a bite."

"And you didn't go with them?"

He didn't respond. It was obvious he'd come to see her instead. And that made it even harder to resist her feelings for him.