by Radclyffe
“Believe it or not, it has some practical application. I study the effects of
environmental pollutants on freshwater marine life. Mostly the Þ sh, but also the
other water life as well.”
• 59 •
RADCLY fFE
Leslie felt herself slide into that place of perfect emotional control where nothing
showed on the outside. She couldn’t remember when she’d learned to do that,
but it was one of the big reasons she’d advanced so quickly in the law. No
matter what she was feeling, no matter how unexpected the turn of events,
nothing in her expression or her tone of voice or her body posture ever gave her
away. “So you work for the state? Is that how you know the park ranger?”
“No, I’m a private consultant.” Dev stretched, enjoying the wine and the warmth
and Leslie’s company. “Right now, I’m at the Derrin Freshwater Institute in
Bolton in a short-term research position. But I do a lot of work with the
Department of Environmental Conservation when there are concerns about
industrial contamination. That sort of thing.”
“I see.”
Dev heard the chill in Leslie’s voice. “What?” Half joking, she said, “Are you
opposed to protecting the environment?”
“No,” Leslie said carefully, “I’m primarily opposed to the government forcing
unnecessary regulations with unproven results on private industry.”
“The government forcing…” Dev set her glass aside and regarded Leslie
intently. “What kind of law do you practice, Les?”
“I defend corporate clients, mostly.”
Dev was aware that Eileen had joined them, standing quietly off to one side of
the room. The tension had ratcheted up until it was visible in the air. “Like the
kind that violate EPA regulations.”
“Yes,” Leslie said, standing, “on occasion.” She smiled thinly at her mother.
“I’m going to walk down to the lake and tell Dad it’s time for dinner.”
Dev rose as well, watching Leslie go, her wine forgotten. She was trying to
come to terms with the fact that the young woman she had loved had turned out
to be someone she didn’t know at all.
“Have you and Leslie met before?” Eileen asked. “Before today, I mean.”
“No,” Dev said, then caught herself. This woman was a stranger to her, despite
their past. “We knew each other in high school. But things were different then.”
So very very different.
• 60 •
WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE
CHAPTER SEVEN
Naked on top of the sheets, Dev turned onto her back and stared at the ceiling.
Though the windows were open, there was very little breeze and the room was
warm. She couldn’t sleep, but it wasn’t because of the heat. She kept replaying
the events of the day. She’d picked up Leslie at the train station less than ten
hours ago, and now she couldn’t stop thinking about things she had assiduously
avoided recalling for Þ fteen years. Memories were deceptive, she knew that.
The sun always shone brighter, the water was always bluer, the pleasure always
so much more poignant when viewed from afar. But even the ache of betrayal
and abandonment had not tarnished the simple truth of what she’d felt, and what
she’d tried so hard to forget.
The room was suddenly too small to contain the images that assaulted her.
Leslie sitting on the bank of the lake beneath fresh spring pines, her cheek
resting on the top of her bent knees, her face soft as she conÞ ded her dreams.
Leslie curled up beside her on a bench in the park, listening intently as Dev told
her about a book she’d read or how she planned to dress out her motorcycle as
soon as she had the money. Leslie laughing and nudging her shoulder, trying to
get Dev to crack a smile when she was pretending to be cool. Leslie that last
night, reaching for her, moaning into her mouth, burning her alive with kisses.
“Christ,” Dev muttered, jumping from bed. She couldn’t believe that a kiss
she’d shared with a teenager could arouse her now, but it did.
She was wet and throbbing and seconds away from reaching down for relief.
Somehow, the idea of climaxing to the image of a woman, no, a girl, who no
longer existed seemed wrong.
• 61 •
RADCLY fFE
She fumbled in the dark for jeans and a T-shirt and pulled them on without
bothering to Þ nd underwear. She stepped into the boots she’d left by the door
and started down the path to the lake with the moonlight as her guide. The water
was black as it always was at night, an onyx surface that glistened beneath a sky
gleaming with stars. The water lapped gently inches from her feet, a soothing
sound like the murmur of lovers in the dark. Dev took a deep breath and
smelled pine sap and rich earth.
The tension in her chest and groin began to ease. She remembered who she
was, where she was, and she remembered, too, how that long-ago kiss had
ended. The phantom passion, like the taunting memory of a lost limb, might
refuse to die, but she did not need to breathe life into it.
She took another deep breath and turned to go back to the cabin.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a ß icker of light from a hundred feet
away. The lake curved inward to form a tiny bay just below the lodge, and the
boathouse, almost as large as the lodge itself, extended out into the water. Dev
stared, wondering if the light she’d seen had just been moonlight glinting off the
water, but then she saw it again, shining for an instant through one of the
windows in the center of the building.
It was probably one of the guests, suffering from insomnia like herself, or a pair
of lovers looking for a private place to share their passion. But as she watched
the light glimmer in one window and then the next, she started walking toward it.
The air was still and quiet, unlike the last time she’d approached the boathouse,
and when she stepped inside, the music played only in her memory. Still, the
shadows undulated as if those long-ago dancers had left their energy and their
desires behind. As on that last night, she had only one destination. When she
reached the far end of the room, she wasn’t surprised to see Leslie perched on
the windowsill, her head tilted back and her eyes closed. The wash of moonlight
erased the years from her face, and Dev gasped as the old familiar connection
punched through her.
Leslie turned her head and regarded the dim Þ gure standing by her side. “Hello,
Dev.”
“Hi, Les,” Dev said, her throat raspy. “Couldn’t sleep?”
“No. You?”
• 62 •
WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE
Dev shook her head.
“I’m sorry about dinner,” Leslie said.
“What do you mean?” Dev leaned her shoulder against the window frame
opposite Leslie. A few inches of hot summer air and a heart full of broken
dreams separated them.
“It couldn’t have been pleasant for you trying to eat with all that tension in the
room.” Leslie shrugged. “I’d forgotten why I don’t visit very often. My parents
don’t approve of me.”
“I got the impression they didn’t approve of your job,” De
v said, recalling just
how carefully Leslie and her parents had tiptoed around anything that broached
upon Leslie’s life in Manhattan or her career.
Instead, Eileen and Paul Harris, a tall, thin quiet man, had questioned Dev with
enthusiasm about the Institute and her work for the Department of
Environmental Conservation.
“Is there a difference?” Leslie couldn’t quite keep the bitterness from her voice.
“After all, we are what we do.”
“Why do you do it?” Dev asked mildly.
“Because I’m good at it.”
Dev laughed. “I bet. But, I mean…what made you decide to do it?
What made you change your plans?”
Leslie hesitated, sorting through any number of answers that would sufÞ ce
while revealing nothing personal. Personal revelation was not something she did
lightly. If she was honest, it wasn’t something she did at all. And she was very
good at deß ecting conversations that verged too close to the intimate. “You Þ
rst.”
“Me? All right.” Dev paused, giving the issue serious thought.
“I’ve always liked Þ sh.”
“That’s not an answer,” Leslie said, but she couldn’t help smiling.
“Actually, it’s the truth. When I Þ nally started studying, I realized how much
there was to learn about the things I saw every day. The lake is part of me, I
guess.” Dev sighed. “And the Þ sh, well, besides creating interesting social
orders, they’re beautiful.”
“You make it sound romantic,” Leslie said seriously.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Dev said, thinking that romance was something she’d
changed her mind about since last they’d met. “Your turn.”
“Remember how I used to hate math?”
• 63 •
RADCLY fFE
Dev nearly gasped at the unexpected twist of pain. She wondered how Leslie
imagined she could forget anything that had happened between them. “Yeah. I
remember.”
“I thought it was because I didn’t have a logical mind. You know, back then I
wanted to work outside, tend the land, that kind of thing.
That was probably me channeling my parents’ dreams.” Leslie swiveled on the
wide window ledge and swung her legs outside the building to dangle in the
moonlight. “Once I got away, got exposed to other things, I discovered that I
was actually very good at dissecting complex issues.
I also have a knack for Þ nding ß aws in arguments.”
“So you got interested in the law.” Dev spoke carefully, recalling how defensive
Leslie had seemed earlier when the subject of her work had come up. “So what
about the rest of it? Why the kind of law that you practice?”
“I like competition.” Leslie glanced at Dev. “It’s just a big chess game.”
“You were always good at that, but…defending big businesses that operate
with no concern for what they might be doing to anyone else? Jesus, Les.”
“The simple answer is that everyone is entitled to the best defense possible,
including corporations.” Leslie slid off the windowsill. “But it’s not that simple,
Dev. Sure, some of the regulations are reasonable, even if they are almost
prohibitively costly to implement. But even my parents, if they just thought about
it, would admit that government intrusion in the private sector isn’t always the
answer. In fact, sometimes it just creates more problems.”
Dev caught Leslie’s arm as she turned her back to walk away.
“Look, I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Leslie snapped. “Clearly, you and my parents are on the side of the
angels. And I’ve sided with the devil.”
“It’s not my place to judge you. Or theirs either.”
“Well, thank you very much for that.”
Dev couldn’t see Leslie’s face in the shadows, but she could feel her shaking.
Underneath the anger was pain, and Dev felt it as if it were her own. She slid her
hand along Leslie’s forearm until she reached her hand and squeezed Leslie’s Þ
ngers before letting go. “I didn’t mean to bring up a sensitive subject.”
“Forget it.” Leslie stepped close to the window again and curled
• 64 •
WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE
her Þ ngers around the sill. She leaned out and let the breeze cool the heat of
anger from her face. “What are you doing out here anyway?”
“I saw the light. What are you doing down here?”
“Trying to Þ gure out why the hell I came home.”
A hint of Leslie’s perfume drifted to Dev. She had no idea what it was, but it
smelled like Leslie. Sharp and hot, with a hint of sadness just beneath the
surface. “Your mother said your visit was sudden. Does it have something to do
with that intravenous line and the ß u?”
Leslie’s head whipped around as she stared at Dev. “You haven’t changed.
You always did see everything.”
“I’ve changed, Les. But it didn’t take any great deductive skill to Þ gure out
something’s wrong. You almost fainted on the porch this afternoon.” Dev lifted
Leslie’s hand and unerringly brushed her thumb over the exact spot where the
intravenous line had been. “You got this in a hospital.”
Leslie was stunned by how much Dev had noticed. She was even more shocked
to Þ nd herself telling Dev the whole story. “So,” she said when she’d Þ nished,
“I didn’t really think things through very well. I knew if I stayed in the city I’d
end up going into the ofÞ ce, and then I’d have to make excuses about cutting
back for a while. I suppose I just wanted to preserve my privacy.”
“Thanks for telling me,” Dev said.
“You could always get me to tell you everything.”
“No, not everything.” Dev realized she was still holding Leslie’s hand and that
she had the unbearable desire to brush her lips over the bruise. She wanted to
make that visible sign of Leslie’s frailty disappear.
She wanted to erase the tension in Leslie’s face, wipe out the strain in her voice.
And because she wanted to touch her so badly, she gently released her hand.
“Did you tell your parents?”
“No. They’d only worry. Besides, it’s not a big deal.”
“When are you going to get the tests?”
“I don’t know, Dev,” Leslie said impatiently. “I have to call and schedule them.”
The whole thing was becoming more absurd by the moment. Running home, as
if there were something here she needed.
Telling Dev, a stranger, the details of this ridiculous illness, when she hadn’t even
explained it all to her lover. Rachel. God, she hadn’t even thought to call her and
tell her she’d arrived. Her whole life was badly out of focus. “I need some air.
I’m going for a walk.”
• 65 •
RADCLY fFE
“Les, it’s one o’clock in the morning.”
“We’re out in the middle of nowhere, Devon. It’s perfectly safe.”
“You don’t know that.” Dev followed Leslie outside. “You have a ß ashlight,
don’t you? That’s what I saw blinking through the window.
You’ll need it in the woods.”
“Yes, but I don’t want every moth and mosquito in Þ ve miles to hone in on me.
I can see well enough to walk back
to the cabin along the lake. That’s the way I
came.”
Unasked, Dev fell into step beside her as Leslie started along the shore path.
After a moment, she said, “Promise you’ll call about the tests tomorrow.”
“I’m going into our Albany ofÞ ce tomorrow. Once I work out my schedule, I’ll
call about the damn tests.”
“I thought you were supposed to be taking it easy. Isn’t that why you’re here?”
Leslie laughed shortly. “Believe me, anything I might be doing up here will be a
vacation.”
“Why don’t you come out with me instead,” Dev said on impulse.
“I can guarantee it will be relaxing.”
“You want me to help you collect Þ sh?” Leslie stopped dead and ß icked her ß
ashlight into Dev’s face. At Dev’s protest, she switched it off. “I just wanted to
make sure you didn’t look as completely crazy as you sound.”
“Why not? You’re supposed to cut down on stress, right? So come out on the
lake and get some sun. That’ll probably be just what you need to kick this
thing.”
Leslie had to agree that made some sense. And oddly enough, she didn’t really
want to go into the ofÞ ce the next day. Being home, seeing Dev again, had
brought back vivid images of all the things she’d loved about the lake in the
summer. The lush, wild beauty of the mountains and the clear, brisk promise of
the lake under the summer sun had always called to her.
“Besides,” Dev went on, “I’m not collecting Þ sh. I’m collecting water, soil, and
organic samples. Natalie’s been helping with the records when she can get free,
but she’s got her own work to do. You can keep notes.”
“Now I know you’re nuts. My secretarial skills are somewhat lacking,” Leslie
said dryly.
• 66 •
WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE
“That’s okay,” Dev said, feeling unaccountably lighthearted as they jested like
old times. “I’ll help you get the hang of it.”
“Oh, thanks.” Leslie was tempted. One day off wouldn’t seriously cut into her
productivity. Natalie’s been helping out…
“All right. Tomorrow?”
“I don’t suppose early hours bother you, do they?”
Leslie snorted.
“How about seven, then? I’ll call Natalie in the morning and tell her she’s got a
reprieve.”
“Come to breakfast at six thirty,” Leslie said, wondering if Natalie would
