Chapter Twenty-four
After Chris and Annie finished their dinner, they sat at the table to play a game of cards. Gin was Annie's favorite and they played that most often. She usually won, too. Chris had been able to put Jessie from her mind, despite the fact that Mary Ruth had casually mentioned that she was back. Chris told herself that she didn't care, that it wasn't any of her business. But Jessie could only be here for one reason. To see Annie. Chris needed to warn her, to prepare her, but she couldn't bring herself to tell Annie.
"I win again," Annie said, displaying her cards.
"I keep telling you, poker's my game," Chris said. She poured the last of the wine into her glass and knew that Annie would open another one. On the nights when she stayed for cards, they went through two bottles, even though Chris complained of a headache all the next day.
"Yes, Roger tells me how you've taken all their money." Annie smiled and dealt another hand.
Chris still enjoyed the nights she visited. After Jessie had left, she had cancelled on Annie for a week or two, not feeling up to discussing her. But now, she usually had dinner with her twice a week, especially now that things had slowed down in the mountains. In the months that she had been coming here, Chris could notice the change in Annie. She smiled over the littlest things now and she showed much more interest in what was happening in town. They still discussed Jessie, but not always. Chris wondered if maybe Annie had transferred her feelings for Jessie to Chris. But that was okay, too. It wasn't like Chris had a mother figure in her life.
"Chris, why aren't you dating any of those nice men in town?" she asked suddenly.
Chris laughed, wondering why it had taken Annie so long to ask. Mary Ruth had asked after the first week.
"Where did that question come from?"
"You spend your free time visiting an old woman. Why aren't you out with some young man?"
"Annie, I'm... gay. I thought you knew that," she said easily.
"Gay? Well, I'll be."
"You didn't know?"
"Now how would I have known?"
Chris shrugged. "I thought everyone knew."
"It's not like I gossip with the locals, you know. But it just never occurred to me, I guess." She reached across the table and grasped Chris's hand. "It's okay, of course. It's none of my business what you do in your own bedroom."
Chris laughed again.
"Annie, there's not anything going on in my bedroom. I mean, this is Sierra City, not San Francisco."
Annie blushed. "Well, you know, I read a lot. It's not exactly a foreign concept to me."
"Exactly what kind of books do you read?"
"Never you mind, young lady. Play your hand."
Chapter Twenty-five
Chris met Roger for breakfast at the Rock House Cafe just like she had been doing nearly every morning since June. He had the Sacramento paper spread out on the table and she tapped his shoulder before sitting down.
"Morning," he said absently. "You're late."
"Thanks, Donna," Chris said, taking the coffee from her. She rubbed her forehead and shut her eyes, ignoring Roger.
"Chris, Dave's got fresh muffins," Donna said.
"Nothing for me, thanks."
Roger put the paper aside and studied her. "Annie keep you up again?"
"Cards." She nodded.
"And?"
"Wine."
He laughed. "You're not as young as you used to be, McKenna."
"Tell me something new."
"Oh, sheriff called me last night. They busted some guy in San Francisco that had the wallets of the Jackson boys."
"You're kidding. Is he the shooter?" she asked. This was the first news they'd had on the murders.
"Too early to tell. He really didn't know much. They've kept him in the dark through the whole investigation."
"Typical," she said.
"Yeah. I think they're hoping to get a lead on the girl."
"Roger, you know she's dead. It's been over two months."
"Yeah. Probably find her in the spring. Some poor sucker from the city will be out hiking off the beaten path and stumble over her."
Chris nodded and finished her coffee. "How's it looking today?"
"Slow for a Friday. The lodge is only half full this weekend. They're predicting a storm by Sunday though. Might be our first major snow storm."
They had had a few light dustings, but not much. Sierra Peak was nearly white, but there was no snow in Sierra City.
"Yeah. Then we can look forward to skiers and those damn snowmobiles. I hate snowmobiles, Roger."
Chris got up and pushed the chair back under the table, grabbing a few stray hash browns from Roger's plate. She fished a couple of bills from her pocket and tossed them on the table.
"See you at the office."
She went out into the sunshine and squinted, then quickly put on her sunglasses. Storm by Sunday? Hard to imagine with all that blue sky staring down at her now. She rubbed her forehead again. Damn Annie! When would she learn?
Chapter Twenty-six
Jessie paused at the trailhead to Elk Meadow, catching her breath. She had jogged at her usual time, hoping to meet Chris on the road. She was oddly disappointed when no Jeep passed her. She shrugged and started up the trail. She would run into her sooner or later, she knew. She also knew that she was hoping Chris could be the one to help her bridge the gap between Annie and herself. That is, if Chris would be willing.
She jogged the two-mile loop without really seeing it, her mind absorbed with the prospect of meeting Annie. She was surprised when she was again back at the trailhead. She slowed to a fast walk to cool down, then finally to a slow walk as she got off the road and hiked the stream to her cabin.
After her shower, she went about unpacking some of the personal things she had brought with her this time. She held up the painting that she had picked up years ago in San Francisco, elk grazing in a meadow, spring flowers all around them, mountains in the distance.
It was this painting that had kept her sane all these years. There was already a nail over the fireplace, so she pulled a chair closer and hung the painting, getting down to see if it was straight.
Too low, but she shrugged. It would have to do. She had a few books, in case she got the urge to read, and she put these on the small bookshelf. A clock for the kitchen and a spice rack that she'd bought in Sacramento went on the counter. Her crystal wineglasses had survived the trip intact and she put those away, along with the few other cooking utensils she had picked up after her flight. She added water to the vase on the table, taking a quick sniff of the fresh flowers. They would last a few more days, she thought.
She made a sandwich for lunch, taking it on the porch along with a glass of tea. Before long, a Steller's jay spotted her and swooped down on the railing, eyeing her suspiciously. She pulled off a corner of the crust and tossed it for the bird, making a mental note to pick up some birdseed and a feeder. She had always enjoyed watching the birds at the feeders when she was growing up. She thought that must be one of Annie's hobbies, because neither she nor Jack ever filled the feeders that she could remember. But they were always full. She remembered now how Annie would sit on the back porch after dinner while she and Jack watched television or she did her homework. What was she doing out there by herself all those evenings? Watching birds? Thinking? Wishing she could enjoy their company in the living room? Jessie again felt a wave of loneliness and guilt settle over her. Her mother had spent most of her adult life in isolation, even in her own home.
Jessie stared out at the trees, wondering why she never asked her mother anything. As a child, was she so consumed with her father that she didn't even notice her mother? And later, so filled with resentment, that she couldn't stand the sight of her? Yes. She knew now what she didn't know then. She blamed Annie for what Jack had done to her.