by Nora Roberts
was all a matter of timing; perhaps she would have given him a polite how-do-you-do and forgotten him.
No. Closing her eyes, she could recall vividly every sensation, every emotion he’d brought into her life. Timing had nothing to do with something so overwhelming. No matter when, no matter where, she would have fallen in love with him. Hadn’t she fought it all along, only to find her feelings deepening?
But she’d thought herself in love with Eric, too.
She shivered in the bright sun and watched a jay race overhead. Was she so shallow, so cold, that her feelings could shift and change in the blink of an eye? That was what held her back and warned her to be cautious. If Eric hadn’t turned his back on her, she would have married him. His ring would be on her finger even now. Eden glanced down at her bare left hand.
But that hadn’t been love, she reassured herself. Now she knew what love felt like, what it did to heart and mind and body. And yet . . . How did he feel? He cared, and he wanted, but she knew enough of love now to understand that wasn’t enough. She, too, had once cared and wanted. If Chase was in love with her, there wouldn’t be any before. Time would begin now.
Don’t be a fool, she told herself with a flash of annoyance. That kind of thinking would only make her drift back to dependence. There was a before for both of them, and a future. There was no way of being sure that the future would merge with what she felt today.
But she wanted to be a fool, she realized with a quick, delicious shudder. Even if only for a few weeks, she wanted to absorb and concentrate all those mad feelings. She’d be sensible again. Sensible was for January, when the wind was sharp and the rent had to be paid. In a few days she would dance with him, smile up at him. She would have that one night of the summer to be a fool.
Kicking off her shoes, Eden plucked them up in one hand and ran the rest of the way to the dock. Girls, already separated into groups, were waiting for the signal to row out into the lake.
“Miss Carlbough!” In her camp uniform and her familiar cap, Roberta hopped up and down on the grass near the rowboats. “Watch this.” With a quick flurry of motion, she bent over, kicked up her feet and stood on her head. “What do you think?” she demanded through teeth clenched with effort. Her triangular face reddened.
“Incredible.”
“I’ve been practicing.” With a grunt, Roberta tumbled onto the grass. “Now, when my mom asks what I did at camp, I can stand on my head and show her.”
Eden lifted a brow, hoping Mrs. Snow got a few more details. “I’m sure she’ll be impressed.”
Still sprawled on the grass, arms splayed out to the sides, Roberta stared up at Eden. She was just old enough to wish that her hair was blond and wavy. “You look real pretty today, Miss Carlbough.”
Touched, and more than a little surprised, Eden held out a hand to help Roberta up. “Why, thank you, Roberta. So do you.”
“Oh, I’m not pretty, but I’m going to be once I can wear makeup and cover my freckles.”
Eden rubbed a thumb over Roberta’s cheek. “Lots of boys fall for freckles.”
“Maybe.” Roberta tucked that away to consider later. “I guess you’re soft on Mr. Elliot.”
Eden dropped her hand back in her pocket. “Soft on?”
“You know.” To demonstrate, Roberta sighed and fluttered her eyes. Eden wasn’t sure whether to laugh or give the little monster a shove into the lake.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Are you getting married?”
“I haven’t the vaguest idea where you come up with such nonsense. Now into the boat. Everyone’s ready to go.”
“My mom told me people sometimes get married when they’re soft on each other.”
“I’m sure your mother’s quite right.” Hoping to close the subject, Eden helped Roberta into their assigned rowboat, where Marcie and Linda were already waiting. “However, in this case, Mr. Elliot and I barely know each other. Everyone hook their life jackets, please.”
“Mom said she and Daddy fell in love at first sight.” Roberta hooked on the preserver, though she thought it was a pain when she swam so well. “They kiss all the time.”
“I’m sure that’s nice. Now—”
“I used to think it was kind of gross, but I guess it’s okay.” Roberta settled into her seat and smiled. “Well, if you decide not to marry Mr. Elliot, maybe I will.”
Eden was busy locking in the oars, but she glanced up. “Oh?”
“Yeah. He’s got a neat dog and all those apple trees.” Roberta adjusted the brim of her cap over her eyes. “And he’s kind of pretty.” The two girls beside her giggled in agreement.
“That’s certainly something to think about.” Eden began to row. “Maybe you can discuss the idea with your mother when you get home.”
“’Kay. Can I row first?”
Eden could only be grateful that the girl’s interest span was as fast-moving as the rest of her. “Fine. You and I will row out. Marcie and Linda can row back.”
After a bit of drag and a few grunts, Roberta matched her rhythm to Eden’s. As the boat began to glide, it occurred to Eden that she was rowing with the same three girls who had started the adventure in the apple orchard. With a silent chuckle, she settled into sync with Roberta and let her mind drift.
What if she had never gone up in that tree? Absently, she touched her lower lip with her tongue, recalling the taste and feel of Chase. If she had it to do over, would she run in the opposite direction?
Smiling, Eden closed her eyes a moment, so that the sun glowed red under her lids. No, she wouldn’t run. Being able to admit it, being able to be sure of it, strengthened her confidence. She wouldn’t run from Chase, or from anything else in life.
Perhaps she was soft on him, as Roberta had termed it. Perhaps she could hug that secret to herself for a little while. It would be wonderful if things could be as simple and uncomplicated as Roberta made them. Love equaled marriage, marriage equaled happiness. Sighing, Eden opened her eyes and watched the surface of the lake. For a little while she could believe in poetry and dreams.
Daydreams . . . They were softer and even more mystical than dreams by night. It had been a long time since Eden had indulged in them. Now the girls were chattering and calling to their friends in the other boats. Someone was singing, deliberately off-key. Eden’s arms moved in a steady rhythm as the oars cut smoothly into the water and up into the air again.
So she was floating . . . dreaming with her eyes open . . . silk and ivory and lace. The glitter of the sun on water was like candlelight. The call of crows was music to dance by.
She was riding on Pegasus. High in a night sky, his white wings effortlessly cut through the air. She could taste the cool, thin wind that took them through clouds. Her hair was free, flying behind her, twined with flowers. More clouds, castlelike, rose up in the distance, filmy and gray and secret. Their secrets were nothing to her. She had freedom for the first time; full, unlimited freedom.
And he was with her, riding the sky through snatches of light and dark. Higher, still higher they rose, until the earth was only mist beneath them. And the stars were flowers, the white petals of anemones that she could reach out and pick as the whim struck her.
When she turned in his arms, she was his without boundaries. All restrictions, all doubts, had been left behind in the climb.
“Hey, look. It’s Squat!”
Eden blinked. The daydream disintegrated. She was in a rowboat, with muscles that were just beginning to ache from exertion. There were no flowers, no stars, only water and sky.
They’d rowed nearly the width of the lake. A portion of Chase’s orchard spread back from the shore, and visible was one of the greenhouses he had taken the camp through on the day of the tour. Delighted with the company, Squat dashed back and forth in the shallow water near the lake’s edge. His massive paws scattered a flurry of water that coated him until he was a sopping, shaggy mess.
Smiling as the girls called out greetings to the
dog, Eden wondered if Chase was home. What did he do with his Sundays? she thought. Did he laze around the house with the paper and cups of coffee? Did he switch on the ball game, or go out for long, solitary drives? Just then, as if to answer her questions, he and Delaney joined the dog on the shore. Across the water, Eden felt the jolt as their eyes met.
Would it always be like that? Always stunning, always fresh? Always immediate? Inhaling slowly, she coaxed her pulse back to a normal rate.
“Hey, Mr. Elliot!” Without a thought for the consequences, Roberta dropped her oar and jumped up. Excitement had her bouncing up and down as the boat teetered.
“Roberta.” Acting by instinct, Eden locked her oars. “Sit down, you’ll turn us over.” Eden started to grab for her hand as the other girls took Roberta’s lead and jumped to their feet.
“Hi, Mr. Elliot!”
The greeting rang out in unison, just before the boat tipped over.
Eden hit the water headfirst. After the heat of the sun it seemed shockingly cold, and she surfaced sputtering with fury. With one hand, she dragged the hair out of her eyes and focused on the three bobbing heads. The girls, buoyed by their life jackets, waved unrepentantly at the trio on shore.
Eden grabbed the edge of the upended boat. “Roberta!”
“Look, Miss Carlbough.” Apparently the tone, said through gritted teeth, passed over the girl’s head. “Squat’s coming out.”
“Terrific.” Treading water, Eden plucked Roberta by the arm and tried to drag her back to the capsized boat. “Remember the rules of boating safety. Stay here.” Eden went for the next girl, but twisted her head to see the dog paddling toward them. Uneasy with his progress, she looked back toward shore.
Her request that Chase call back his dog caught in her throat as she spotted his grin. Though she couldn’t hear the words, she saw Delaney turn to him with some remark. It was enough to see Chase throw back his head and laugh. That sound carried.
“Want some help?” he called out.
Eden pulled at the next giggling girl. “Don’t put yourself out,” she began, then shrieked when Squat laid a wet, friendly nose on her shoulder. Her reaction seemed to amuse everyone, dog included. Squat began to bark enthusiastically in her ear.
Fresh pandemonium broke out as the girls began to splash water at each other and the dog. Eden found herself caught in the crossfire. In the other boats, campers and counselors looked on, grinning or calling out encouraging words. Squat paddled circles around her as she struggled to restore some kind of order.
“All right, ladies. Enough.” That earned her a mouthful of lake. “It’s time to right the boat.”
“Can Squat take a ride with us?” Roberta giggled as he licked water from her face.
“No.”
“That hardly seems fair.”
Eden nearly submerged before Chase gripped her arm. She’d been too busy trying to restore order and her own dignity to notice that he’d swum the few yards from shore. “He came out to help.”
His hair was barely damp, while hers was plastered to her head. Chase hooked an arm around her waist to ease her effort to tread water.
“You’d better right the boat,” he said to the girls, who immediately fell to doing so with a vengeance. “Apparently you do better with horses.” His voice was soft and amused in Eden’s ear.
She started to draw away, but her legs tangled with his. “If you and that monster hadn’t been on shore—”
“Delaney?”
“No, not Delaney.” Frustrated, Eden pushed at her hair.
“You’re beautiful when you’re wet. Makes me wonder why I haven’t thought of swimming with you before.”
“We’re not supposed to be swimming, we’re supposed to be boating.”
“Either way, you’re beautiful.”
She wouldn’t be moved. Even though the girls had already righted the boat, Eden knew she was in over her head. “It’s that dog,” she began. Even as she said it, the girls were climbing back into the boat and urging Squat to join them.
“Roberta, I said—” Chase gently dunked her. Surfacing, she heard him striking the bargain.
“We’ll swim back. You bring Squat. He likes boats.”
“I said—” Again, she found herself under water. This time when she came up for air, she gave Chase her full attention. The swing she took at him was slow and sluggish because of the need to tread water.
He caught her fist and kissed it. “Beat you back.”
Narrowing her eyes, Eden gave him a shove before striking out after the boat. The water around her ears muffled the sound of Squat’s deep barking and the girls’ excited cheering. With strong, even strokes, she kept a foot behind the boat and made certain the girls behaved.
Less than twenty feet from shore, Chase caught her by the ankle. Laughing and kicking, Eden found herself tangled in his arms.
“You cheat.” As he rose, he swept her off her feet so that her accusation ended in another laugh. His bare chest was cool and wet under her palms. His hair was dripping so that the sunlight was caught in each separate drop of water. “I won.”
“Wrong.” She should have seen it coming. Without effort, he pitched her back in the lake. Eden landed bottom first. “I won.”
Eden stood to shake herself off. Managing to suppress a smile, she nodded toward the whooping girls. “And that, ladies, is a classic example of poor sportsmanship.” She reached up to squeeze the water out of her hair, unaware that her shirt clung to every curve. Chase felt his heart stop. She waded toward shore, with the clear lake water clinging to her tanned legs. “Good afternoon, Delaney.”
“Ma’am.” He gave her a gold, flashing grin. “Nice day for a swim.”
“Apparently.”
“I was about to pick me some blackberries for jam.” He cast his gaze over the three dripping girls. “If I had some help, could be I’d have a jar or so extra for some neighbors.”
Before Eden could consent or refuse, all the girls and Squat were jumping circles around her. She had to admit that a ten or fifteen-minute break would make the row back to camp a little more appealing. “Ten minutes,” she told them before turning back to signal to the other boats.
Delaney toddled off, sandwiched between girls who were already barraging him with questions. As they disappeared into a cluster of trees, a startled flock of birds whizzed out. She laughed, turning back to see Chase staring at her.
“You’re a strong swimmer.”
She had to clear her throat. “I think I’ve just become more competitive. Maybe I should keep an eye on the girls so—”
“Delaney can handle them.” He reached out to brush a bead of water from her jawline. Beneath his gentle touch, she shivered. “Cold?”
More than the sun had taken the lake’s chill from her skin. Eden managed to shake her head. “No.” But when his hands came to her shoulders, she stepped back.
He wore only cutoffs, faded soft from wear. The shirt he had peeled off before diving into the lake had been tossed carelessly to the ground. “You don’t feel cold,” he murmured as he stroked his hands down her arms.
“I’m not.” She heard the laughter beyond the trees. “I really can’t let them stay long. They’ll have to change.”
Patient, Chase took her hand. “Eden, you’re going to end up in the lake again if you keep backing up.” He was frightening her. Frustrated, he struggled not to push. It seemed that every time he thought he’d gained her trust, he saw that quick flash of anxiety in her eyes again. He smiled, hoping the need that was roiling inside him didn’t show. “Where are your shoes?”
Off-balance, she looked down and stared at her own bare feet. Slowly, her muscles began to relax again. “At the bottom of your lake.” Laughing, she shook her wet hair back, nearly destroying him. “Roberta always manages to keep things exciting. Why don’t we give them a hand with the berry-picking.”
His arm came across her body to take her shoulder before she could move past him. “You’re still back
ing away, Eden.” Lifting a hand, he combed his fingers through her sleek, wet hair until they rested at the base of her neck. “It’s hard to resist you this way, with your face glowing and your eyes aware and just a bit frightened.”
“Chase, don’t.” She put her hand to his.
“I want to touch you.” He shifted so that the full length of her body was against his. “I need to touch you.” Through the wet cotton, she could feel the texture of his skin on hers. “Look at me, Eden.” The slightest pressure of his fingers brought her face up to his. “How close are you going to let me get?”
She could only shake her head. There weren’t any words to describe what she was feeling, what she wanted, what she was still too afraid to need. “Chase, don’t do this. Not here, not now.” Then she could only moan, as his mouth traveled with a light, lazy touch over her face.
“When?” He had to fight the desire to demand rather than to ask, to take rather than to wait. “Where?” This time the kiss wasn’t lazy, but hard, bruising. Eden felt rational thought spiral away even as she groped for an answer. “Don’t you think I know what happens to you when we’re like this?” His voice thickened as his patience stretched thinner and thinner. “Good God, Eden, I need you. Come with me tonight. Stay with me.”
Yes, yes. Oh, yes. How easy it would be to say it, to give in, to give everything without a thought for tomorrow. She clung to him
