Whispers (Argent Springs)
Read Whispers (Argent Springs) Online
Authors: Cindy Stark
WHISPERS
(Argent
Springs Book One)
By Cindy
Stark
AMAZON KDP EDITION
PUBLISHED BY
C. Nielsen
Whispers ©
2014 C. Nielsen
All rights
reserved
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This ebook is a work of fiction. The names,
characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or
have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any
resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations
is entirely coincidental.
Aspen Series
Wounded
Relentless
Lawless
Cowboys and Angels
Come Back To Me
Surrender
Retribution Series
Branded
Hunted
Moonlight and Margaritas
Sweet Vengeance
To Phyllis—your determination and sassiness inspires me.
As always, to my beautiful daughters—The Walking Dead and hockey games
wouldn’t be the same without you.
To my partners in crime—LL Muir, Tiffinie Helmer, Kerrigan Byrne and
Cynthia St. Aubin. Thank you for your friendship and advice.
Erin Silvestri hurried across the manicured lawn toward
the beckoning shadows that lurked beyond the watchful glow of multi-colored hanging
lanterns. She glanced over her shoulder, praying she’d lost Devon amongst the
crowd of guests. Being hit on by a man she didn’t like was bad enough. When the
man was her drunken cousin, the embarrassment was much worse.
Festive dance music and laughter filled the
evening air, creating a thin layer of celebratory grandeur that hid the subtle
judgments of her uncle’s guests. The fact that most of the finely dressed men
and women were related to her in one fashion or another didn’t mean a thing. These
were not her people.
If she stayed a second longer, she’d suffocate
from the high-octane oxygen that surely graced the backyard of the stately
mansion in the hills above Salt Lake City. The evening was warm. The air thick.
Sultry days like this were meant for skinny-dipping in a mountain lake as
opposed to squeezing into a constricting cocktail dress.
“Erin,” her mother called out, her shrill voice bringing
her to a halt. She eyed the cobblestone path that would have led her to sanity.
Damn.
She pasted on a smile and swiveled on her black
heels. When she did, she spied her mother standing next to a woman with
beautiful salt and pepper hair, looking like a regal regarding her subjects.
“Aunt Annabelle,” her mother said when Erin
approached. “I’d like you to meet my youngest daughter, Erin.”
Erin held out a hand and was surprised by the
strength of the older woman’s grip. Two minutes. She could be friendly for two
more minutes to these upper-crust socialites who appeared to thrive in their stuffy
suits and dresses.
Wrinkles around the older woman’s eyes deepened as
she pushed up her glasses and smiled. “I remember you, love, although you were
twenty years younger.” She laughed, the sound musical and a little louder than
would be socially acceptable in this type of situation.
Erin shrugged, intrigued by the woman who pushed
social boundaries. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember you.”
“Of course you don’t. You were maybe four or five at
the time. But I remember you.” She pointed a slightly crooked finger at her. “You
have unforgettable hair, the color of fire, just like I used to when I was
younger.”
She liked the woman much better than she had
thirty seconds ago.
“It’s a ghastly shade, don’t you think?” her
mother interrupted, directing her question to Annabelle. “I’m sure you’ve fought
it your whole life, too. I keep trying to convince her to add some highlights
or go completely blond like her sister.”
A smart retort hovered on Erin’s tongue, but
before she could spit it out, her great aunt spoke instead.
“I beg to differ, Marian. I turned quite a few
heads in my day, and many young men admitted they’d asked me out just to have
an opportunity to touch my hair.”
“Seriously?” Her mother scoffed and shook her head
as though completely dismissing the idea. “Well, we all know times were
different back then. Women didn’t have the options they do today.”
Erin tucked her lips in and tilted her head down, trying
to hide the smile on her face. When she did, she caught a glimpse of worn
cowboy boots peeking from beneath Annabelle’s elegant silver skirt. Surprised
yet again, Erin switched her gaze back to the older woman.
Her great aunt remained focused on her mother. “Regardless,
I would have kept my color. It made me unique instead of a cookie cutout of the
other girls my age.” Annabelle met her mother’s disdainful look with a sugary smile.
Her mother, on the other hand, had always tried to
look like every other woman at the country club. As expected, her mother
immediately began to search for an escape. She’d never been one to handle
people challenging her passive-aggressive ways.
Erin knew her mother had found her excuse when a
smile lit her face. “I’ve truly enjoyed our conversation, Aunt Annabelle, but
you’ll need to excuse me. My husband is waving me over.”
Laughter simmered on Erin’s tongue as she watched
her mother’s slender figure and perfectly-styled blond hair disappear into the
crowd of a hundred people. She and her mother weren’t as different as her mom
liked to think. They both had a tendency to want to escape uncomfortable situations.
The only difference was her mother was usually the cause for the awkwardness.
“What a pleasant lady,” the older woman said,
earning a surprised look from Erin.
She wasn’t sure if her aunt was teasing or not, so
she played it safe. “I’m glad you think so.” Just then, Erin spotted Devin
heading in their direction though she wasn’t certain he’d seen her yet. “How
about we move to the bar for a drink?”
A twinkle appeared in Aunt Annabelle’s eye, and
she winked. “A girl after my own heart. I hear my nephew has stocked some of
the best whiskey for his party, and I couldn’t possibly let that boast go
without testing the truth of it.”
“Of course.” Erin held out an arm, allowing her great
aunt to grab hold and pull herself up.
“I’m eighty-two years this summer and still going
strong, except my back gives me fits every once in a while.”
Erin hurried her along as fast as possible. “That’s
amazing.” She did seem pretty spry for her age, and once Annabelle was out of
her seat, she walked fairly well.
“It’s the cowboy boots,” she whispered as though
she’d disclosed state’s secrets. “They remind me to stay grounded to my roots,
and they keep me steady on my feet.”
Erin smiled, liking this woman more and more.
“I’ll have to remember that.”
She parked her great aunt at an out-of-the-way
little table to the side of the bar that had been constructed especially for
the party.
“We’ll both have a shot of the Jack Daniels
Sinatra Select,” Annabelle said to the penguin-suited waiter.
“Yes, ma’am.” If he was surprised an 80-year-old
woman wanted a shot of whiskey, he didn’t show it.
“It sells at close to two-hundred and fifty
dollars a bottle,” Annabelle whispered behind her hand. Not that anyone was
close enough to hear. “We’ll see if it tastes like it.”
When the waiter returned with their drinks,
Annabelle lifted her glass and slugged down her drink as if she was in an
old-western saloon. This time, her actions earned her a pair of raised brows
from the waiter. “Jack Daniels has always been my favorite,” she said to him.
“Hold on a second, son,” she added when he started
to turn away. She looked to Erin. “Your turn.”
Erin laughed, but then she could see Annabelle was
dead serious. It had been a long time since she’d downed anything stronger than
coffee, but it seemed this evening called for it. She lifted the glass in a
toast and then drained the contents.
“Good Lord.” She gasped as the smooth fire burned a
trail down her throat.
The older woman took her glass as Erin tried to
catch her breath, and she set it on the waiter’s tray. “We’ll take two more.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a chuckle as he turned
away.
Erin tried to blink away the tears from her eyes before
Annabelle noticed.
“I’ll have to admit that’s some damn fine whiskey.
Worth every cent.”
“Uh-huh,” Erin croaked and tried to clear her
throat.
“What’s the matter? A little too strong for you, love?”
She patted her hand.
Erin nodded as the molten liquid continued to spread
from her stomach to other parts of her body, leaving her a little dizzy. “I
think one might be my limit.”
“That’s okay. I’ll drink yours if you can’t.”
Her choke turned to a laugh.
“How come I haven’t seen you in twenty years?”
Erin asked. “I might have looked forward to these absurd reunions if I’d have
known you’d be here.”
Her aunt clucked. “I’ve been pretty busy, child. Too
busy for this type of nonsense. A few years ago, I moved back to the little mining
town where I’d been born and met a handsome man who charmed my socks off. Life
was always an adventure with him. It turns out he lived in this delightful old
house that used to belong to my family, and we turned it into a bed and
breakfast.”
“You make it sound like a fairytale.”
Her lips parted in a warm smile, wrinkling the
skin on her cheeks. “It’s my fairytale. I’ve learned to make it a priority to
do what makes me happy, but living in our town, enjoying each other, the
beautiful surroundings and our friends was the best part of my life. I’ve
always believed the best is yet to come, but I lost him two months ago and now
realize my love with Henderson will be hard to top.”
A sudden ache of envy rippled through her. She
wanted the same out of life. A strong man, a cozy home, and good friends who
understood her. “Where is this magical little town?”
“The southwest part of Colorado, high in the San
Juan Mountains. It’s called Argent Springs. Ever heard of it?”
Erin shook her head.
“We have some pretty rough winters, but the cold makes
it extra nice if you have someone to snuggle.” She tilted her head, the silver
in her hair catching the light of an overhead lantern. “What about you? How is
your fairytale coming along?”
Erin rolled her eyes. “You heard my mother. If
only I’d colored my hair, my husband might have been a better man, and I would
have wanted him to hang around longer.”
“Oh, love.” Her great aunt reached out and covered
her hand, sending a rush of caring and comfort through her, along with a
reminder of the emptiness she’d experienced most of her life. “How old are you,
honey?”
“Twenty-six.” With one failed marriage under her
belt.
“Twenty-six? What I wouldn’t give to be that age
again.” She put a finger beneath Erin’s chin, the gentle gesture coaxing forth
buried emotions. “You are
so
young, my dear, with many, many wonderful
years ahead of you. Don’t be concerned by past mistakes. Take what you’ve
learned from them and move forward to the amazing future that awaits you.”
“I’m working on it.” She sniffed, embarrassed
she’d let this woman see her weakness. Her mother would have sent her into the
house to gain control of herself if she’d spotted a tear. Silvestris did not
cry in public. “But sometimes it’s hard to believe I’ll ever find a guy like
your Henderson.”
“I’m curious. How long since your divorce?”
Erin thought for a moment. “Two years.” She was
surprised to find she’d been divorced longer than she’d been married.
“
Two years
? That’s far too long to mourn a
dead relationship.”
Erin widened her eyes. “It’s not as easy as it
sounds.”
“Do you think I don’t know that? Henderson was my
fifth marriage. Two of those ended in divorce, and do you know what I found?”
She shook her head, afraid to ask.
“It’s a lot harder to climb back on the saddle the
longer you wait, and think of all those great rides you’re missing out on.”
Erin raised her brows, not sure if Annabelle was
talking about life experiences or great sex. She supposed it didn’t matter
either way. She’d recently begun to think life might be passing her by as well.
“Do you know what I think? I think you should come
visit me in Argent Springs. You need a change of scenery. You need to meet some
real men, and you’ll find plenty of those in Argent Springs like I did with my
Henderson. Besides, I’d love to show you my little yellow house and all the
treasure it holds. It’s only a few hours from here. Say you’ll come.”
Erin wasn’t too sure about the men, but she’d like
to spend more time with Annabelle, and a chance to get away from the craziness
of the city sounded perfect. “I would love to come visit you.” She truly would.
“It’s a date, then,” the older woman said. “Give
me your number, and I’ll call you. Once you’ve experienced life in Argent
Springs, I promise you won’t want to leave.”