by Radclyffe
ways once more.
“I don’t know that I’d say I like it,” Leslie said, “but it’s satisfying.”
She grinned. “I like winning cases. So what about you? Are you running the
store for your parents now?”
“No, they Þ nally sold the place and moved to Florida about six years ago.”
Leslie’s question brought home to Dev how little they knew of one another now.
There might have been a time when they’d understood each other without
words, but now there was nothing between them. “I’m working up at the lake
this summer, though. I’m a biologist.”
“You’re kidding,” Leslie said before she could catch herself.
“Jesus, I’m sorry. That was rude.”
Not insulted, Dev laughed as she exited onto Route 9 North, the twisting twolane
lake road that she once could have driven from memory. “No. I don’t
blame you. I’m sure it’s nothing anyone who knew me in high school would’ve
guessed I’d be doing.”
• 42 •
WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE
“I just never remember you being interested in that kind of thing.”
“I wasn’t.”
“So what caused the big switch?”
Dev swung into the driveway to Lakeview and parked in the lot beside Eileen
Harris’s Jeep. She shifted on the seat and met Leslie’s curious gaze. “After the
accident I couldn’t do much more than read, and studying kept my mind
occupied.”
Leslie paled at the unexpected reference to a time she assiduously avoided
thinking about. Ambushed by guilt and regret, she felt a sudden need for air. She
yanked the door handle up and stepped out in front of her childhood home. The
rambling, three-story white clapboard house with its wraparound porches and
gabled upper windows looked just the same as it always had. Her mother, also
seemingly unchanged in jeans and a sweater Leslie thought might once have
been hers, waved from the front porch. On the far side of the parking lot the
grassy slope led down to the boathouse. The boathouse. There were some
things she couldn’t forget, no matter how much she wanted to.
Leslie looked back into the truck. “I’m sorry. So sorry. I’d undo it all if I
could.”
As Dev watched Leslie walk quickly away from her and the painful past that
had suddenly resurfaced, she heard the words she’d never be able to forget.
She’s nothing to me. She’s nobody.
And still, even knowing she’d been wrong about everything, she’d never wanted
to change any of it. Dev climbed from the truck, pulled Leslie’s luggage from
behind the seat, and started toward the lodge.
Leslie’s parting words, in the past and the present, reminded her more
powerfully than any blow that she and Leslie had never shared the same dream.
It had all been in her mind. A Þ ction created from her own need and foolish
hopes.
Thankfully, those long-ago dreams had been put to rest, but she was still going
to need to Þ nd another place to stay. She had never expected that seeing Leslie
again would hurt quite so much.
• 43 •
• 44 •
WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE
CHAPTER FIVE
Leslie stopped a step below her mother and tried to decipher the expression in
her mother’s eyes. Despite the fact that it was only a three-hour trip, Leslie
hadn’t been home in over three years, and the last visit had been only for a few
hours one Christmas. She’d never had to lie about the reason for her absence.
She always had work to do, even if that was only a convenient excuse. There
was warmth in her mother’s eyes, but wariness too. After Leslie left for college
they’d lost the easy companionability they’d had when Leslie was a teenager.
No, Leslie reminded herself, after you decided to go to law school.
“Hi, Mom,” Leslie said.
Eileen wrapped her arms around Leslie’s shoulders and hugged her. “Hi, honey.
I’m sorry I couldn’t pick you up.”
Leslie felt the stiffness in her mother’s embrace and imagined that her own body
felt much the same. “That’s okay. I didn’t give you any notice, after all.”
“Well,” Eileen said, looking past Leslie down the gravel walk,
“I’m glad Dr. Weber was able to give you a ride.”
Leslie turned just as Dev reached her, Leslie’s briefcase under her arm and the
suitcase in her hand. “Dr. Weber?”
Dev shrugged, coloring faintly. “Not the regular kind.”
“You didn’t need to bring my luggage up,” Leslie said, reaching for the suitcase.
“No problem,” Dev replied, climbing the stairs. “Where do you want them?”
“Your old room’s available,” Leslie’s mother said, “if you want it.
• 45 •
RADCLY fFE
I don’t rent that one out unless I really need to, and the lodge isn’t full now.
You’d have plenty of privacy.”
Not if Rachel manages to come up, Leslie thought. There was no way she was
going to subject Rachel to her mother’s scrutiny or have sex in her childhood
bedroom. That wasn’t exactly the way she wanted to introduce her mother to
the idea that she had a girlfriend.
Plus, even if Rachel didn’t visit, she didn’t want to spend two weeks in the
constant company of her parents and be faced with the subtle disappointment in
their eyes. “I’d rather have one of the cabins. They’re not all full, are they?”
“Not yet, but we’ve got reservations—”
“Actually,” Dev said, wondering if the other two women had forgotten her
presence, “she can have mine. I…uh…should probably get a place closer to the
lab.”
Eileen look startled, and Leslie scrutinized Dev intently before saying, “Mom,
let’s settle the room situation later.”
“Of course. Let me double-check the registrations, and we can decide after
dinner. I’m sure I can work something out.” Eileen looked at Dev. “I hope you’ll
be able to join us tonight.”
“Thank you, but—” Dev said, scrambling for a polite way to decline when the
phone rang inside and Eileen turned away.
“Wonderful.” Eileen hurried inside, leaving Dev to stare after her.
Leslie lifted the suitcase Dev had deposited on the porch. “I’ll make your
excuses, if you want to pass on dinner.”
“I’m that easy to read, huh?”
“You might take a little bit of coaching before I’d put you on the witness stand.”
Leslie smiled softly. “Besides, your eyes always did give you away.”
“No, they didn’t,” Dev said quietly. “You were just always able to tell what I
was thinking. No one else could.”
When Leslie’s face lost all expression and she hastily glanced away, Dev knew
she had no good reason to put off sitting down to dinner with the Harrises. Until
now she’d avoided them because she didn’t want the subject of Leslie and their
shared past to come up. She hadn’t wanted to be reminded, and she hadn’t
wanted to talk about it.
But the past was standing right in front of her, and she couldn’t have stopped
thinking about Leslie now if she got into her truck and drove a thousand miles
away. What she needed was to understand that
this
• 46 •
WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE
woman was not the girl she remembered, and whatever friendship they’d shared
had ended the night when everything in her life had changed. Maybe a casual
dinner where it would be apparent they had nothing in common any longer
would do the trick.
“Sorry,” Dev said.
“For what?” Leslie said, shifting her eyes away from the boathouse and back to
Dev.
“For bringing up old history. I’m just surprised to see you.”
“I won’t be staying long,” Leslie said abruptly, feeling inexplicably
claustrophobic. She was standing outside in the June afternoon sun, looking out
over a vista of forest and clear blue water that was still unspoiled by the
trappings of modern life. She couldn’t imagine a place where she might feel
more free, but instead she found herself trapped in memories she had no desire
to relive. “There’s no need for you to move out of your cabin. We’re not likely
to see each other. I’ll be working most of the time, and I imagine you’ll be off
doing whatever you do.”
Dr. Weber , her mother had said. Leslie could barely believe that this woman
was the angry, often sullen, teenager she remembered. Dev had never studied in
school, and her grades had shown it. Even though Dev had almost failed her
junior year, Leslie always knew she was smart. She could tell from the things
they talked about. Dev seemed to know something about almost everything, but
she never cared about doing well in school or whether other people approved of
her. That was one of the things Leslie always loved…
“I’ll stay in the lodge,” Leslie said.
“You ought to be able to stay wherever you want while you’re here,” Dev
pointed out reasonably. “It’s your home, after all.”
“No it isn’t.” Leslie shouldered her briefcase and started to add that she didn’t
care where she slept when she felt the ß uttering sensation well up in her chest.
The surge of panic that followed only made her heart pound faster. With a gasp,
she dropped her luggage and sat down quickly in the nearest porch chair.
“Les, are you okay?” Dev took the Þ nal two stairs to the porch in one long
stride. Leslie was very pale, but even more disconcerting, she looked frightened.
Dev knelt by her side. “Les?”
“Fine,” Leslie said with a wave of her hand. She felt just a little bit breathless,
but the ß uttering sensation was already starting to subside. “Hot. I should have
had something to drink on the train besides coffee.”
• 47 •
RADCLY fFE
“I’ll get you something to drink from inside.” Dev started to rise when Leslie
caught her arm.
“No, don’t. My mother…”
“I won’t tell her.” Dev, stiff with shock, stared at Leslie’s Þ ngers wrapped
around her wrist. It was odd, they were exactly as she remembered them,
incredibly soft and strong at the same time. Satin over steel. Her body
remembered every place that Leslie had ever touched, even casually, and she
shuddered at the explosion of sensation.
Gently, she drew her arm away. “I’ll tell your mother it’s for me. Pepsi, not
Coke, right?”
Leslie bit the inside of her lip. Two years together, and Rachel could never
remember that, but somehow, Dev had, even after all this time. She felt
dangerously close to tears, and barely recognized herself. Of course, she’d
hardly slept in two nights and what little rest she’d managed had been uneasy.
Part of her kept expecting to wake up breathless with that terrible pressure in
her chest. She nodded, because she needed a minute to settle herself and she
didn’t want to have Dev see her so shaken. Dev always could see too much.
“Thanks. Yes, Pepsi would be great.”
“No problem.” Dev put her hands in her pockets because she had the
overwhelming desire to touch Leslie on her shoulder, or her hair.
Somewhere, just to reassure her, or maybe herself, that everything was all right.
For a second, she’d thought that Leslie was going to faint, and she still didn’t
look quite right. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
Relieved to be alone, Leslie rested her head against the back of the white
wicker rocker and closed her eyes. She pressed her index Þ nger over the pulse
in her wrist. It seemed fast, but steady. She could breathe again. It was hot for
June. And, she had to admit, seeing Dev had thrown her. She’d known that
coming home was going to be difÞ cult to begin with, and now she couldn’t
remember why she’d ever thought it was a good idea at all.
Since she’d changed her mind about doing something environmentally related as
a career and gone into law instead, her relationship with her parents, especially
her mother, had been awkward.
Her parents were one step up from hippies—well, old hippies now—but she
could remember riding on her father’s shoulders during equal rights marches and
carrying signs at supermarkets to protest the treatment of migrant farm workers.
As a child she used to play on the rug in front
• 48 •
WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE
of the huge stone Þ replace, listening to her parents and their friends debate
everything from abortion rights to global warming. Her parents still grew their
own organic vegetables, and the only boats that put out from the boathouse at
Lakeview other than the outboard her father used to ferry campers to the islands
were sailboats or other non-motorized craft.
She was a disappointment to them, and she knew it.
“Here you go,” Dev said, squatting down again beside Leslie and handing her a
sweating glass of soda. “No ice and a straw.”
Dev didn’t say just the way you like it, but Leslie heard the words all the
same. She took the glass and managed to smile, although she wasn’t certain she
could take any more kindness. “Thanks.”
“How are you feeling?”
Leslie sipped the Pepsi, giving herself a few extra seconds to chase away the
disturbing disorientation that came over her every time she looked at Dev.
Forty-eight hours ago she had been immersed in another world, a world she had
chosen and in which she knew exactly who she was. She’d been in charge, in
control, sure of herself. She’d been…satisÞ ed. She’d also been certain that
was as close to happy as she could be.
“Les?” Dev stared at Leslie’s left hand, then gently cradled it in her palm. There
was no engagement ring, no wedding band, but that wasn’t what held her
attention now. She looked from the bruise surrounding the healing puncture site
to Leslie’s face. “What’s wrong, Les?”
“Nothing.” Leslie drew her hand back, closing her Þ ngers into a Þ st and
turning her hand away so that the IV site was no longer visible.
She’d forgotten that was there. There was another one on her right forearm, but
her jacket covered it.
Dev didn’t repeat the question, but Leslie could see it still swirling in her eyes.
When she’d Þ rst seen Dev at the train station, she hadn’t thought she would
recognize her if they’d passed on the st
reet, but she realized now that she’d
been wrong. It was true that Dev had grown into a woman even more attractive
than she’d been as a teenager, but if Leslie had ever seen her eyes, she would
have known her anywhere.
Her eyes were the same, and Leslie hadn’t exaggerated when she’d said they
always gave Dev away. When she was angry those tiny gold ß ecks that Leslie
had always coveted disappeared and her irises darkened from hazel to gray.
When she was happy, they sparkled with
• 49 •
RADCLY fFE
a hint of green as pure as new spring grass. When she was worried, like now,
the colors swirled like shadowy eddies in the lake during a hard rain.
“Really. I’m just getting over a bug of some kind.” Without thinking, Leslie
rested a hand on Dev’s shoulder, surprised at the hard muscles beneath the
cotton shirt. They felt so different from Rachel’s Þ rmness or her own gymtoned
body. She considered herself strong, but what she sensed in Dev’s body
was power.
“There’s probably time for a nap before dinner,” Dev said, not completely sure
she believed Leslie’s story. But she had no right to question her either. She
eased back on her heels and breathed a little easier when Leslie removed her
hand. The physical contact made her uncomfortable. “Your mother said to tell
you she freed up cabin nine indeÞ nitely. I’ll take your luggage down.”
Leslie set her glass aside and stood. “I’ll get it. You’ve done enough this
afternoon. You don’t have to play bellboy as well.”
Dev grinned. “I did that for a while in college. It paid pretty well.”
“Where did you go?”
“Syracuse.”
Leslie smiled wanly. She had always planned to go to the College of Forestry at
Syracuse. She and Dev often talked about it when they sat together by the lake
after school. But when she’d been accepted at Yale, where she’d only applied
because her guidance counselors had insisted, she hadn’t been able to resist the
lure of attending an Ivy League school. And she admitted now, she’d been
eager to experience something bigger than her small-town life. There’d been
fewer than a hundred seniors in her graduating high school class. She’d known
them all since kindergarten. Everyone she knew in school looked the same,
thought the same, shared the same plans for the future. Except for Dev. Dev
