Wildest Dreams - By Rosanne Bittner Page 0,258

mines and everything else. I'd give up every bit of it if it meant keeping you with me. You're my life, my strength. We aren't going to let this keep us from striving to get our family back together. We've all been through too much together, and there is too much love in this family for this estrangement to last, especially between me and Ty. Things will work out. God will find a way. He always has before."

She arched her eyebrows. "And this from a man who hates sitting in church."

He grinned sheepishly. "I don't have to sit in church to know how I feel about God or to talk to him. We've had plenty of chats over the years."

She reached up and touched the shadow of a beard on his cheek. There were still a couple of faint white scars where his beard would not grow. Older. So much older, with a fullness to his brawn that made him seem bigger than ever. He was still a powerful man, but there was no getting around the fact that he was getting older. It wasn't fair that there should be this strain between Ty and him in this time of their lives when they should be the happiest they had ever been.

She rested her head against his chest, and outside the wind howled, reminding her of those early days. How strange that when times were happy, she hardly noticed the wind anymore; but when sadness filled the household, again it seemed more haunting and lonely than ever.

"Ty, let me in! I'm freezing!" Tyler opened the door to his little, one-room cabin. He had barely heard the knock above the raging wind. The woman who entered wore a heavy cape and a hood that hid her face so that at first it was difficult to realize who she was.

"Alice?" He stepped back, and Alice Richards dashed inside. Ty closed the door and turned to watch her remove her hood. She hurried over to the potbellied stove in the corner, rubbing her hands over its heat. She looked around the stark little room, which held only a cot, table, and wash-stand, and a few pots and dishes. Some clothes hung on hooks on the walls.

"Ty, why on earth do you stay here when you could be living in that beautiful home on the hill?"

Tyler frowned. "What's it to you?" He wished she wasn't so pretty, with that golden hair and those big, blue eyes. She was a delicate thing, with a warm smile and a sparkle to her eyes, but he did not want to think about her, or the miserable way he had treated her these last couple of years. The memory of Ramona was painful enough.

Alice shrugged. "I just don't understand, that's all. Father and I have been here for a week already, and you haven't shown your face."

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his denim pants. He wore a doeskin jacket against the cold that continued to creep into the cabin in spite of the roaring fire in the wood stove. "You know why. Nathan and his family came down for Christmas. As long as he's there, I'm staying here."

"That's childish," she said quietly. "You're breaking your mother's heart, Ty, your father's, too. One day you'll regret what you're doing to them. I lost my own mother only two weeks ago, and—"

"And that's the excuse my mother used to invite you and your father for Christmas—because my pa and yours are business friends, and my mother likes you and didn't want you to be alone at Christmas after just losing your mother. Well I know the real reason she invited you here, and it won't work."

Alice frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that they think that bringing you here will help me get over Ramona and get me to thinking about somebody else."

Her eyes widened, and her face turned crimson. "You're an arrogant, ignorant fool, Tyler Fontaine, and you're the cruelest person I've ever met!" The last words came out in a quick sob, and she threw her hood back over her head and headed for the door.

Tyler reached out and grabbed her arm. "Wait!"

She remained turned away, breaking into tears.

Ty felt like an ass, hating himself for hurting her again. "I'm sorry, Alice," he said softly, "honest to God I am. All these months I've felt as though I don't even know who I am anymore. I say and do things I