Swathed in snow, the Flint Creek Range stood in stark contrast to a sky so blue it hurt her eyes. Sun-drenched slopes alternated with shaded purple crevices. She drank in the beauty… and wished Cole was there to share it with her.
“Fudge it all, Sol. I miss him!”
Sol knickered in response.
“But here’s the thing. He keeps saying it’s better if I don’t know what he’s been through. I really disagree with that. I also don’t like his coping strategy. Numbing himself to all kinds of experiences isn’t healthy. What do you think?”
Sol glanced back at her, which made her laugh. “Yeah, like I have to ask. It’s no bueno.”
And she had a problem. Cole had shown no signs of changing his mind on either point. What if he never did? What if that was how he lived for the rest of his life? Could she deal with it?
“I love him, Sol. And I want him to change his tune. But everyone knows you don’t get involved with someone thinking they’ll change, or worse, that you can change them.”
Sol let out a big sigh.
“Exactly. If I want to be with him, I have to accept him as he is.”
They rode along in silence except for the crisp sound of Sol’s hooves breaking through the snow. Even the meadow on her left and the forest on her right were quiet, except for the occasional plop when a hunk of snow fell from a branch.
“On top of it, this is Christmas, when my family is doing so much better than last Christmas. We have Luis and Jordan’s baby news. Adam and Tracy are blissfully happy. I want to be happy.”
And she was, whenever she was in Cole’s arms. When they made love, she could block out the issues. A chill ran down her spine. Was that how she wanted to live?
Chapter Thirty-Three
Cole’s head wasn’t in the game. Ironically, he couldn’t seem to lose.
“Chingao!” Luis had been the last one to stay in. He stared in disbelief as Cole apologetically laid down a royal flush to beat his full house.
Rio whistled in surprise. “I’ve never seen luck like you’ve had today, buddy.”
He gathered up the chips and added them to the stacks in front of him. “Me, neither. I’ve had winning streaks, but nothing like this.” He grimaced. “Sorry.”
“Hey, don’t feel bad. It’s just your day.” Adam grinned as he shuffled the deck. “Maybe my sis is your good luck charm.”
“Could be.” He’d certainly been thinking about her constantly, which should have affected his performance at the poker table. Maybe it had, in a good way.
“I could use another beer.” Monty pushed back his chair. “Can I get anybody else one?”
“Me.” Zay got up. “In fact, I vote we take a break and bring out some chips. Losing makes me hungry.”
Rio stood and glanced at Adam. “Got any of Mom and Greta’s Christmas cookies? I could go for some of those, too.”
“Sorry, we’re saving them to put out for Santa.”
“Yeah, right. In other words, you’re eating them yourselves on Christmas morning.”
Adam smiled. “Only if he doesn’t show up.”
“Sugar cookies and beer?” Monty made a face. “Who does that?”
“Don’t knock it if you haven’t tried it. Sweet and savory. It’s a great combo.”
As if Cole needed another reminder of last night with Mila. Once again he was tasting the sweet potatoes topped with sour cream.
The comments about cookies and Santa didn’t faze him, though. His thoughts, aka concerns, about Mila had blocked any references to the holiday and he’d mostly ignored the decorations in Adam’s cabin.
Since this was his second visit in less than twenty-four hours, he was vaguely aware of a tree surrounded by gifts. Something hanging from the arched kitchen doorway could be mistletoe.
