Cheyenne woke up alone. For a second, she wondered if the past couple of weeks had been a dream. She expected her mother to call out for more pain medication, or food, or to be repositioned in the bed, and for her sister to return home from work.

But then she rolled over and smelled a hint of Dylan's cologne on the pillow and remembered making love with him last night. Some of the worst things in the world had happened to her since Eve and the others had left for the Caribbean. But so had some of the best. Dylan pretty much carried that end of things.

Where was he?

Since it was Christmas morning, she figured he'd gone home to see his brothers. But then she heard the front door open and close.

"Dylan?" She stretched as she called his name. Normally Christmas morning meant cooking a big breakfast for Anita and Presley and exchanging what gifts they had. Since coming to Whiskey Creek, it meant getting together with Eve and her family in the evening for a few hours, too. Sometimes Presley came along. More often Presley stayed with Anita or had her own friends over. Yesterday, the Harmons had called to see if she'd be joining them as usual. But she told them she was already committed to having dinner somewhere else.

Dylan stuck his head in the room. He was wearing the same faded jeans and sweatshirt he'd worn last night, along with an endearing grin. A baseball cap suggested he'd dressed without showering, but she liked him as he was, liked the contrast between his dark beard growth and his white teeth. "Merry Christmas."

She gave him a sleepy smile. "Merry Christmas. But...isn't it a little early to be up?"

His grin turned slightly sheepish. "Sorry. Can't help it. I always wake up early. And it was especially hard to sleep this morning."

"Because..."

"I'm excited about giving you your gift."

"You got me something?" She shoved herself onto her elbows. This wasn't particularly welcome news since she'd been too busy searching for Presley and making funeral arrangements for Anita to even think about a gift for him. "When would you have had time for that?"

"While I was at work yesterday. I did some research on the internet, made a few calls and found just what I wanted."

She raised her eyebrows. "Really?"

"Really."

"But...I'd rather we waited to exchange presents until I've had a chance to do some shopping myself. I-"

"I'm not expecting anything," he broke in. "Just being with you is enough."

The honesty of that statement, together with the sincerity on his face, touched her deeply. He meant it. "Why me?" she asked softly, turning the question he'd once asked back on him.

When he answered, she could tell he understood. "You fit me perfectly. I've known you would for a long time."

A wave of happiness washed over her. Amid all the pain and confusion and moral ambiguity she'd been suffering, she'd found someone who soothed every ache and eased every complaint, and he did it just by being him. Ironically, he was the least likely person in Whiskey Creek. Would she have given him a chance if she hadn't bumped into him in the park that day?

Probably not...

"I'll go and shower."

He made a sound of impatience. "Do you have to? I can't wait."

Who would've guessed big bad Dylan Amos could remind her so much of an eager little boy? But she loved that unexpected, innocent quality.

"Okay, I'm coming," she said with a laugh and started to get up. She thought he'd want her to go into the living room and sit by the tree, but he held up one hand. "Wait right there."

She heard the front door again. When he returned, he wasn't carrying a wrapped present, but he cradled a furry black-and-white bundle in his arms, which he brought over to her.

"A puppy? You got me a puppy?" She reached out to take the squirming little animal, but he hesitated before handing it over.

"I need to explain something first."

As she reached out to scratch behind the dog's ears, it tried to lick her hand. She was so ecstatic she couldn't wait to hold her new pet. "What?"

"I was actually going to get a different dog. So if you want, we can take her back. It was just that...once I saw her, I couldn't resist."

"Why would I want to do that? She's darling! I've always wanted a dog. What breed is she?"

"Can't say for sure. There's some Akita and maybe Golden Retriever."

Thrilled at having her first real pet, Cheyenne reached for the animal again, but Dylan still wouldn't hand her over. "Can I hold her?" she asked in surprise.

At last, he relinquished the puppy, but she could tell he was watching closely for her reaction. "What's wrong? Why are you-" And then, as she brought the puppy's body against her chest, she knew something was wrong. Setting the animal on the bed, she took a closer look. The dog was missing a hind leg.

Dylan met her questioning gaze. "It's a birth defect. I knew the other dogs wouldn't have any trouble finding homes, but...the volunteer who was helping me said this one probably wouldn't be adopted."

Tears gathered in Cheyenne's eyes as she watched the unfortunate puppy use three legs to scamper around the bed. "So you rescued the poor thing." As he'd rescued his brothers when he was only eighteen. As he'd rescued her, although she hadn't known how badly she'd needed rescuing.

He thrust his hands in his pockets. "Actually, I'll take her if you don't want her. Then we can find you a different puppy."

"No." She scooped her new pet close and buried her face in its fur. "I love her. She's exactly the dog I would've chosen."

"Seriously?" He seemed unsure.

"You've seen my Christmas tree, haven't you?"

"Your Christmas tree?"

"Never mind," she said with a laugh. "To me, she's perfect."

"I'm glad to hear that." The tension in his body eased and he started to look as happy as she felt. "I bought her a bed, a leash, some food and toys. You should have everything you need." He bent over to kiss her temple. "Merry Christmas."

She looked up at him as he straightened. "There's no one like you, Dylan Amos."

He chuckled. "There are a lot of people in Whiskey Creek who'd tell you they're grateful for that."

The sound of the doorbell interrupted them before she could respond. "Who could be stopping by at ten o'clock on Christmas morning?" she asked.

A shrug said he had no idea, but since he was dressed and she wasn't, he went out to see. Then he called back to her. "Chey, it's Riley."

27.

"Why aren't you taking Eve's calls?" Riley stood on Cheyenne's porch, eyeing Dylan, who was in the living room behind her, with no small amount of suspicion.

"A gift from your aunt?" She held her new puppy against her chest with one arm while indicating the sweater he was wearing.

"Yeah. Noni gives me one every year," he replied distractedly.

Cheyenne already knew this. Following Christmas, they wore their worst gifts to coffee. It was a tradition. "What did you do with that purple one from last year?"

His frown became more marked. "You haven't answered my question."

She nuzzled her face against her dog's back. "Eve's only tried to reach me a couple of times."

"So you are aware that she's been trying to call."

A twinge of conscience stole much of the pleasure Cheyenne had been feeling prior to his visit. "Yes, and I've been planning to call her back. It's just that...my life has been crazy the past few days. You, of all people, should know how crazy."

"That's why she's so desperate to get hold of you! That's why she called me and begged me to come over here even though I was in the middle of opening presents with Jacob."

"I'm sorry she interrupted your Christmas. I'll call her."

"When?"

"Today."

He wasn't satisfied. It obviously bothered him that Dylan was in her house. He hadn't even mentioned her puppy. "Why have you been avoiding her in the first place?"

How did she explain that hearing what Eve had to say about Dylan upset her? That she was already in too deep to back out? That she didn't want her friends, who'd always meant so much to her, to ruin what she was experiencing? And that she didn't want the fact that she couldn't listen to their warnings to destroy their friendship? "She's worried about things she shouldn't be."

"How do you know? How do you know you shouldn't be worried, too? You're taking a huge risk, Chey."

"By getting romantically involved with someone?" she asked. "I think I'm entitled, don't you?"

"Of course you're entitled. It's just-" he dragged one hand through his hair, causing it to stick up in front "-you're particularly vulnerable right now. Maybe this isn't the best time to be picking someone."

"Did Eve say that?"

"More or less," he admitted. "Although I could've come up with it on my own. You've seen what...keeping the wrong kind of company has done for your sister."

Suddenly, the door was wrenched from her grasp as Dylan opened it wider. "Since you're talking about the Amoses, maybe this is a conversation the two of us should be having."

Contrary to Riley's earlier comments about Dylan, when he'd joked around about being frightened of him, he didn't act intimidated now. He seemed resolute, prepared, as if he'd known they might have a confrontation. That was probably the reason he hadn't brought Jacob along. Unless he was in school, Jacob was always with Riley. "Fine, if it'll make a difference."

Dylan's deep voice sounded from above Cheyenne's head. "What kind of difference were you hoping for?"

Hearing Dylan's inflexible tone, Cheyenne decided she couldn't allow this to go any further. "Stop," she said, trying to nudge him out of the doorway. "I don't want this to develop into a fight."

"That's the problem right there," Riley said. "You shouldn't have to worry that an encounter like this could turn violent. Would you be saying the same thing if you were dating Joe?"

"I wouldn't have to."

"Exactly!"

"Because you've accepted Joe. You wouldn't be challenging him."

"She's made her decision," Dylan broke in. "You need to respect that."

Riley didn't respond to him. Instead, he locked eyes with her. "Is that true? You won't listen?"

She hesitated. She wanted him and Eve and all the others to understand, but she knew their prejudices were too strong. Dylan's reputation had preceded him and, even though he'd changed, they weren't willing or able to recognize it. "Yes," she finally said. "I care about him. A lot."

"Shit." His shoulders slumped as he glanced between them.

"Please try to understand," she whispered.

"Understand?" he echoed.

"He makes me feel things no one else ever has."

"It's called sex, Chey. We've been telling you about it for years."

The flippancy of that remark angered her. "That's not what I'm talking about," she snapped. "Maybe I clung to my virginity a little longer than everyone else, but I'm not naive. I was raised by a crude, foulmouthed woman who often prostituted herself. I've seen things I've never told you about, things that would curl your toes. So don't talk to me as if I'm too innocent to have a clue about life!"

A muscle twitched in Riley's cheek, but he didn't reply right away. When he did, he spoke more softly, as though he was trying to reel in the emotions that were taking charge. "Is there anything we can do to convince you that you're making a mistake?"

She shook her head. It was too late. She'd already made her choice.

"Then we can't help you," he said, and stalked back to his SUV.

"Merry Christmas, huh?" Dylan muttered as he watched Riley drive away.

Cheyenne turned to face him. "I'm sorry you had to hear that."

He pretended it didn't bother him and closed the door. "I haven't led a perfect life. I'll be the first to admit it." But he'd never dreamed he'd regret his mistakes quite as much as he did, never dreamed that gaining the approval of Cheyenne's friends would one day mean so much to him. Even if he'd known, he wasn't sure he would've been able to change his behavior.

"You've done the best you can," she said.

But his best wasn't enough. Despite knowing that her friends would judge him for lighting up-probably use his smoking as proof that he wasn't as good as they were-he wanted a cigarette. Quitting was much harder than he'd ever imagined.

Maybe he didn't have what he needed to make Cheyenne happy.

"What's going on in that mind of yours?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.

He slipped his arms around her and the puppy she was holding and kissed her neck. What would they have been like if they'd led different lives? "Joe's the better man. Maybe you need to hear it directly from me."

She backed away from him. "I don't believe it."