Wishes and Dreams by Lurlene McDaniel Page A

blue one lingered, and the sunlight gave its wings an iridescent quality. It rested on the petal of a pink rose, folding and unfolding its wings, keeping a rhythm that matched Ciana’s heartbeat. Then the insect left, circling upward until Ciana lost sight of it among the leaves of an overhead tree. Somehow the butterflies had brought her comfort yesterday, but now, in the early predawn light, she felt pressure in her chest once more. Like the butterfly, Arie was gone.
    “I—I—” Ciana’s voice caught.
    “What?”
    “Don’t make fun, but when I’m out there, in front of her grave, I talk to her. I tell her stuff just as if she can hear me.”
    Eden realized it was an old habit. Ciana and Arie had been friends before Eden had come onto the scene and turned the two-way dialogue into three-way conversation. “What do you tell her?”
    “I ask her to forgive me about Jon.”
    Eden reached out, touched Ciana’s shoulder. “You know she did. Please don’t torture yourself.”
    “Doesn’t matter. I still feel guilty. She loved him so much.”
    “But he loved
you
. Still loves you.”
    “Does he? I haven’t heard from him in months.” Melancholia welled up in Ciana from a reservoir she usually tried to keep under a tight lid. She didn’t want to mourn the dual losses of Arie and Jon. Her heart couldn’t take it just now.
    Behind the house the barnyard rooster crowed. “Isn’t he up early?” Eden asked, changing the subject to a less painful one.
    “He’s always up early. You’re just always still asleep and never hear him.” In the east the sky was graying quickly, and the stars were disappearing. Ciana saw a light switch on inside the house and glow through the front porch window. Her mother was up and would soon be rattling around the kitchen. Another day beginning, ever the same, yet different.
    Eden yawned, stretched. “Bet the coffee’s on.”
    “Go back to bed for a while.”
    “Since I’m already awake, I’ll help Alice Faye with breakfast instead. But first I’ll raid the chicken coop for fresh eggs.” Eden stepped away. “You coming?”
    “In a minute.”
    “Leave tending the horses until after breakfast,” Eden commanded, shaking her finger.
    Yes, her friend knew her well. Ciana smiled. “I will. Now go on.”
    Eden hurried up the porch steps and through the front door to fetch an egg-gathering basket. Ciana took one long last look up at the sky, now painted with shades of gold and pink. Today promised to be another scorcher. Jon intruded into her thoughts again.
Stop thinking of him
, she told herself.
Stop dreaming of him. Stop missing him
. If he missed her he would have called by now. All these months without a word were evidence of his true feelings for her. And that argument might have been more convincing had it not been for that last fierce, hungry, soul-searing kiss they’d shared before he’d driven away last spring.
Why
 … why had he kissed her that way and then left her?
    “Where are you, Jon Mercer?” she asked into the dawn. Was he safe? Did he ever think of her? Did he miss her as she missed him?
    Damn him, anyway! Ciana spun and marched into the house, toward the kitchen and the smell of brewing coffee and the daily grind of her real life.

    “People! Let’s give it up for Jon Mercer! That was some ride, cowboy—a full eight seconds on Storm Trooper! Meanest jughead mustang bronc west of the Mississippi. Nice going, Jon!” Theannouncer’s voice sounded above the roar of the rodeo crowd, cheering Jon’s ride and dismount from the wild horse.
    The Wyoming sun beat down from a splendid blue sky sharpening the jagged peaks of the Rockies rimming the horizon. Jon picked up his hat from the dirt, slapped it against his thigh, and waved it at the clapping, boot-stomping spectators in bleachers. Across the corral the rodeo clowns distracted the angry wild horse and forced the animal into an adjoining pen. Jon hurried to the side of the corral, climbed over the