Cheyenne wanted to say it was because he'd given her no reason to. That he'd provided nothing for her to hang on to. But she bit her tongue. Aaron had his own issues.

"You sent her away," Dylan said.

"I didn't want to deal with her right then. That didn't mean I never wanted to see her again!"

Dylan's gaze locked with Cheyenne's. "We don't know what was going on in her mind, Aaron."

She'd needed him, and he hadn't been there for her. Presley had been let down so many times it was hardly surprising that she had no self-esteem.

"Maybe I should put off rehab," he said. "Go to Arizona with you."

"No," Dylan started, but Aaron cut him off.

"I won't be able to concentrate if I'm wondering about her all the time."

Cheyenne broke into the conversation. "You'll be a lot more help to her if you get clean, Aaron. Maybe we'll be fortunate and Presley will follow your lead. She's going to need friends who don't use. Maybe you can be that friend."

"You think I'm capable of it?" he asked.

He was talking to her. That surprised Cheyenne. "I think you could be as wonderful as your big brother. But right now, you're letting everything that's happened to you stand in the way."

"Just because you and Dylan have been able to pull your lives together doesn't mean the rest of us can."

"Yes, it does," she said. "If you want it badly enough. I hope that's the case. I hope you'll get clean regardless of what happens to Presley."

"Don't talk like she's a lost cause," he said. "She's not."

"I pray you're right." Cheyenne set her dog down so she could start packing. Finding Presley would be a long shot. Just because she'd called from Sunnyslope didn't mean she'd stay in those nine square miles. But Cheyenne had to take the chance.

The calendar on the clinic's opposite wall had X's through December 28. Where had the days gone? Presley felt as if she'd entered a time warp since leaving home. Even her stint with the semi driver who'd driven her to Phoenix seemed more like a dream. Only the bruises on her body and the busted lip Dick had given her felt real. She'd seen what he'd done to her face when she'd asked to use the restroom, since the house where she'd been staying didn't have a mirror. With a black eye and a swollen mouth, she looked like she'd been in a fight....

"It'll be okay." Dick was sitting beside her wearing the new clothes he'd gotten for Christmas, presumably from his wife. When he wasn't aroused he acted quite normal. Except he'd forced her to wear a dog collar in the car.

On second thought, he wasn't normal. She was just too scared to care about anything other than what was about to happen.

"Presley?" he said.

She blinked, then focused on him. "What?"

"Did you hear me?"

She nodded. She hadn't realized he'd expected an answer to that comment. She wished he wasn't even there. Once they arrived, she'd told him he could drop her off, that she'd call him when it was over. He'd let her remove the collar at that point. But he'd insisted on coming in. He said she needed someone to support her.

She would've liked that someone to be Cheyenne. If she had to go through an abortion, she wanted her sister at her side. It was her first time in this situation. But she had no right to ask for anything from Chey. Not after what she'd done. Not after the lies she'd told.

We aren't even sisters....

"You're spacing out again."

Her eyes cut to her companion. "What did you say?"

"I asked if you were scared."

When? She hadn't heard that. "A little," she admitted.

"A little...what?"

Confused, she stared at him until he whispered in her ear. "Master."

"Oh, right." She'd forgotten that part. He wanted the playacting to continue. But with only two other women and one man in the waiting room, it was so quiet she hated to speak. The receptionist glanced up whenever they broke the silence. She preferred to go unnoticed, but the marks on her face made that impossible. Presley had witnessed the woman's shocked reaction when she signed in. She'd mumbled a line about being in a car accident but she wasn't sure the receptionist bought it.

"I don't think she believed me about the accident," she said, keeping her voice too low for anyone else to hear.

"Doesn't matter," he responded. "It is what you say it is."

"I guess."

He leaned closer. "Bottom line, it's none of her damned business. I'm your master, and I can do what I want."

Ignoring that part, because she found it ridiculous, she changed the subject. "Seems like there aren't a lot of women who get an abortion right after Christmas, huh?" She gazed around at the empty seats.

"People are celebrating. They'll deal with their problems later on."

A woman in a white jacket poked her head through a door near the reception area. "Ms. Christensen? The doctor's ready for you."

Dick got up to go in with her. He even took her hand. But Presley jerked away. "I'll be back when it's over," she said. She would not have this stranger, this...twisted man witness her most vulnerable moment.

Anger flashed in his eyes. He couldn't insist in front of the nurse and the receptionist. But he pulled her back and showed her the syringe he had hidden in his pocket. "This will be waiting for you," he whispered, and kissed her as if that was what he'd intended all along.

"Do you think Aaron will stay in rehab?"

Dylan glanced over at Cheyenne, who'd been staring at Eugene Crouch's card for several miles. Although Phoenix was a good fourteen-hour drive from Sacramento, they'd decided to take his Jeep so they wouldn't have to rent a car or worry about flights.

He preferred to remain mobile and at the controls of his own vehicle. "He's promised me he will this time, but...who knows?"

"Does he write to your father?"

"You're whittling down the number of questions you have left. I hope you know that," he teased.

"What number am I on?"

"You maybe have three left."

"Then this can be one of them."

"Fine. I'm pretty sure he doesn't write."

"He's never said?"

Dylan thought of all the comments his brother had made over the years. If there'd been one common sentiment, it was I hate Dad. "In so many words."

"So J.T. doesn't hear from any of his sons."

"Rod's written him once or twice. Grady, too."

"Mack?"

He turned down the radio. "J.T. doesn't seem to matter all that much to Mack."

"Because he sees you as his father."

"He was really young when it all went down," he agreed, slowing as he came into traffic in Los Angeles. With any luck they'd reach Phoenix by ten tonight. That was when Cheyenne felt they had the best chance of finding her sister, anyway.

"Eve called while you were getting gas," she said as he changed lanes.

"At that last stop?"

She nodded.

"What did she want? Is Lucky okay?"

"Lucky's fine. Eve's taking good care of her. She just wanted to tell me she's praying for us." She grinned at him. "And to see if I thought any of your brothers might be fun for her to date."

"Seriously?" he said with a laugh.

"I shouldn't have told her you were so good in bed."

"Does she think it runs in families?"

"With the way all you Amoses look, she's willing to take the chance."

He slung an arm over the steering wheel. "No way am I going to let that happen."

She adjusted her seat belt. "Me, neither. In case it doesn't work out. But it was a nice thought."

Eve's question, however teasing it was, told Dylan that Eve was trying to accept him, trying to change her prejudice against him. He appreciated that.

"She also said something else, and this has me sort of...troubled," Cheyenne said.

"What's that?"

"Do you know Baxter North?"

"That friend of yours?"

"Yeah. The one who wears the expensive suits."

"What about him?"

She bit her lip. "Eve thinks he might be gay."

"Might be?" he repeated.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He could hear her surprise. "He is gay. It's obvious. But even if it wasn't, I've seen him with a guy."

Her jaw dropped. "What? When?"

"Maybe a year ago."

"Where?"

"I met Manny from the gym and his sister at the Devil's Lair in Jackson for a drink. It was a weeknight, not too crowded. Baxter was there with someone."

"Did he see you?"

"Not at first. Which is why I'm quite clear on what was going on."

"What did he say when he realized you'd seen him?"

"We pretended not to recognize each other. I didn't see any point in embarrassing him. His sex life is his business. But he never touched his date afterward."

"That could've been a friend," she said.

He threw her a look. "I know the difference. What does it matter, anyway?"

"It doesn't. Except that we can't figure out why he wouldn't tell us. Eve thinks it might be because he's in love with Noah."

"Rackham? Hmm. He might be. I've seen them together, too, although not in that way. Rackham's straight, isn't he?"

"Sure is."

"If that's true, it won't be a pleasant revelation for either of them."

"Exactly why we're worried."

He touched her hand, which was still holding the business card. "You tempted to call Crouch?"

She rubbed the embossing, allowing herself to be distracted. "Every day."

Presley was shaking by the time the doctor walked into the room. The clothes Dick had purchased for her were folded neatly on a chair. She was wearing a paper gown that left her feeling completely exposed.