by Marta Perry
She smiled at the memory, grieving because Kevin wouldn’t have that with his grandfather. Her dad had died too early to know him.
They started moving again, but this time Jason stayed close by her. “I guess there’s a lot to be said for a childhood like yours. Not everyone’s so lucky.”
She hesitated, but he was the one who’d brought it up, which seemed to invite a question. “I take it that you grew up in a...a difficult environment?”
“Yeah, if you can call spending a lot of my time on the streets difficult.” She couldn’t miss the edge to his voice.
“Your family?” she ventured.
“I never knew my father. My mother was...” His face tightened with remembered pain. “She looked for refuge in a bottle. She didn’t find it.”
“I’m sorry.” Her mind was spinning. This was so far from what she’d imagined that she could hardly grasp it. “But how did you...” She stopped, thinking she was on the verge of being tactless.
“How did I get out?” His tone steadied, and his face no longer betrayed him. “I was lucky. I had a teacher who saw possibilities in me and steered me in the right direction. And a coach who pushed me to dream big.” He shook his head. “I still can’t quite believe where I’ve ended up. It could so easily have gone the other way.”
“I’m glad you found people who believed in you, but I’m sure you deserve a lot of the credit yourself. You did the hard work to get where you are.”
He shrugged, staring ahead at Kevin trudging along the path. “I have to keep my guard up. I’ve seen how easily it can all slip away.”
Deidre watched him, wishing she was wise enough to say the right thing. “If you keep your guard up all the time, it can be hard to let people know you.”
He flashed a look at her. “That’s the idea.”
“But you let me in,” she ventured.
“Maybe you caught me at a weak moment.” He quickened his steps. “Kevin, what’s the rush?”
“We’re almost there.” Kevin hurried back to them and grabbed Jason’s hand, tugging it. “Come on, hurry up. I want to show you the falls.”
Giving in to his excitement, they hurried around another bend in the path. They could hear the falls now, sending out their constant roaring. Then the falls came into view, rushing down the rocky cliff face and sending up the spray that cloaked the surroundings in a magical mist.
Jason’s face was everything Kevin could have wanted. He looked dumbfounded. “But...that must be close to a hundred feet high.”
“Not quite,” she said. As they grew nearer, the roar of the water made it necessary to pitch her voice a little louder. “Ninetysomething, I believe. It is awesome, isn’t it?”
He nodded, not taking his eyes off the water. “I wouldn’t have imagined it.” He ruffled Kevin’s hair. “Thanks, Kev. I’m glad you convinced me to come. I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.”
Kevin grinned, gratified. “Mommy knows all about the falls. You can ask her anything.”
“Well, not anything,” she said. “My father loved natural history, and every excursion turned into a lesson.”
“You’ve got a captive audience, so go ahead and teach us.” He grabbed Kevin’s hand. “Sit down on this rock, Kev. Your mother’s going to tell us all about it.”
She had to laugh as the two of them seated themselves on a long, flat rock and looked at her expectantly. “Okay, I’ll tell you what my dad told me. This is actually the break between the Allegheny Plateau and the valleys.” Kevin seemed confused, so she sat down next to him. “See, the land north of us is all high ground. But where we live is in the valley, and there are lots of other ridges and valleys all along this part of Pennsylvania. So the water had to get from that higher ground up there to the valleys below, and that makes a waterfall.” She might have simplified it a little too much, but Kevin would have plenty of other chances to learn about his world.
“It’s a very impressive waterfall.” A breeze sent a spray of water across Jason’s face, beading it with moisture. “Is this privately owned land?”
“Not anymore. The Morris family used to own a big chunk of it, but when the State Game Lands took over the area, Kevin’s great-grandfather deeded most of his land to them, as well. That way the falls were protected.”
“Tell the story, Mommy,” Kevin said. “Tell the story about the Native American girl.”
“Legends?” Jason lifted his eyebrows quizzically.
“There are always legends about waterfalls, I think.” She lifted her face to feel the spray. “I can understand why.”
“Tell it, Mommy.” Kevin nudged her. “We want to hear.”
“That’s right,” Jason added. “We’re ready to hear a story.” Kevin leaned against him, and Jason put his arm around her son as naturally as if he did it all the time. The sight did something funny to her heart.
She cleared her throat. “Well, it’s just a legend,” she said. “But the story goes that long, long ago, two tribes were at war. A young woman had ventured out in search of food when she was spotted by the enemy. She tried to lose them, so she could get back to where her family was hiding, but she couldn’t. They were getting closer and closer, and she could hear their cries. She’d reached the top of the falls when she knew they were too near. She couldn’t get away, and she wouldn’t lead them to the people she loved. So she jumped from the top of the falls.”
She got caught up in the story, telling it the way she’d first heard it years ago. “They say sometimes you can still hear her voice whispering in the voice of the falls, telling her family she loved them.” Unexpectedly her throat tightened, and her eyes stung.
Silly. It was probably a made-up story anyway, like most stories people told about the falls. But still, what woman wouldn’t sacrifice herself to save those she loved?
They sat silently, letting the magic of the place seep into them. Even Kevin seemed struck into speechlessness for the moment.
Jason’s hand closed warmly over hers where it lay on the rock. Almost without volition, she turned it so that they were palm to palm.
Without looking at each other, with nothing touching save their hands, a flood of communion rippled between them, carrying a message of caring, of longing, of the faintest whisper of hope. She needn’t have worried about how she would keep Jason at a distance today. It was already far too late for that.
* * *
JASON DREW AWAY from Deidre slowly, a fraction of an inch at a time. He’d never experienced this mix of emotions before—longing and desire, yes, but never overlaid with this need to protect her from anything and everything.
Not even for Leslie—well, certainly not for Leslie. Leslie had proved herself well able to take care of herself, even at the cost of his future.
He had to be careful. If he let this feeling have its way, there’d be no backing out.
Kevin grabbed his hand and tugged. “Come on. Let’s explore.”
“Okay. Where should we explore?” He glanced at the falls. He could see a steep trail that led up along them and hoped nobody thought it would be a good idea to try to climb to the top.
“We’ll walk down the stream,” Deidre said, swinging her backpack onto her shoulders. “See what treasures you can find, Kev.”
“Treasures?” Jase shouldered his own pack, prepared to follow her.
“Of course.” She looked surprised. “If you’re not looking, how will you find something special?” She waved her hand at their surroundings. “I want Kev to grow up appreciating the natural world.”
“What do you think he’ll find?”
No sooner had the question come out of his mouth than Kevin was calling them, excitement filling his voice.
“Look! Look what I found!”
“I hope it’s not an animal, or it’ll be in the next cou
nty by now.” Deidre, smiling, hurried to join her son.
But Kevin was squatting in a shady patch of gravel near the stream. “Look,” he said in a whisper this time.
Another flower, its perfectly shaped green leaves seeming to curl protectively around the single flower stalk in the center.
“Remember what it is, Kevin?” Deidre prompted.
“Jack-in-the-pulpit,” he declared. “Did you ever see one before, Jase?”
Jason shook his head. “Never did. Why is it called that?”
“I guess because the flower stands up so proudly above the leaves,” Deidre said. “We don’t often see them. You have to be in the woods at just the right time.”
“See, I told you this would be a good day, Mommy.” Kevin touched the plant lightly, but made no effort to pick it. Jase shot a glance at Deidre. “No picking?”
Kev answered. “Leave nothing but footprints. Take nothing but a memory. That’s what Mommy says.”
Deidre flushed. “Mommy’s an old Girl Scout,” she said lightly.
Jase pulled out his cell phone. “How about a picture? Can we take that back with us?”
Laughing, she nodded.
“Put your face real close to the flower, Kev, and I’ll get you and Jack.”
Squatting, he zeroed in with his camera phone, the boy’s innocent rounded face above the perfection of the flower. “Great,” he said, snapping it.
Kevin jumped to his feet as if he was on springs. “You don’t know very much about the woods,” he said, giving Jason a disapproving look.
“I never had a chance to learn.”
“That’s good, because Kevin can be your guide,” she intervened quickly.
Kevin brightened. “Sure I can. I know lots.”
He darted along the stream, probably looking for his next discovery.
“And he’s humble, too,” Deidre said ruefully.
“He can’t know less than I do. I think I’ve lost face with him just a little.”
“You’ll regain it quickly enough.” Her gaze was on her son as he teetered on a rock on the edge of the stream. “I hadn’t realized how much he’d missed having a man around.” That betraying color came up again. “I didn’t mean...”
“I know what you meant,” he said. “It’s okay.” Intent on distracting her, he said, “He’s going to have wet feet before long.”
“It’s inevitable.” She seemed resigned. “Little boys always make messes.”
Big boys do that, too, Jason thought. Right now, he had to figure out how to get out of the mess he was in.
They rounded a curve in the stream where the banks grew narrower and the water rushed, hurrying toward what lay ahead. He stared. “Is that a mill?”
“It was,” she said. “Some early Morris got the idea of putting a gristmill here. Lots of water pressure, of course, but he didn’t figure on how difficult it would be for the farmers to get their grain up here. It’s been abandoned for years, although the judge had converted it to a cottage and used to make an effort to keep it in shape. Frank talked about coming here more often, but we never did. We thought we’d have plenty of time.”
Jason grasped a tree branch to give him something to hold on to as he leaned out to have a better look. “The water wheel is still there.” It leaned rather drunkenly to one side, but it turned sporadically as the current hit it.
“The grist stones are still inside,” Deidre said. “Kevin, do you want to show Jason the millstones?”
But Kevin had stopped dead, staring at the mill. He didn’t answer.
“Kev,” she said again, questioning.
“No.” He stepped backward until he bumped into Jason. Jason put a hand on his shoulder and felt him tremble.
“But, Kev, you always want...”
Jason shook his head.
Her eyes widening at his silent message, Deidre bent over her son. “Is something wrong, sweetheart?”
Kevin shook his head violently, his eyes fixed and staring at the mill. “I don’t want to.”
She exchanged glances with Jason, and he saw that this had taken her by surprise.
What had brought on that response? He supposed the old mill did look creepy in a way, but if Kevin was familiar with it, it was hard to understand his reaction.
“Why don’t we walk back to where we can see the falls and find a place for our picnic,” he suggested.
Kevin nodded vigorously. He clutched Jason’s hand like a lifeline and pulled him back the way they’d come.
The feel of that small hand affected Jason in a way he’d never experienced. When had someone ever relied on him—trusted him to keep them safe? Deidre and her son had given him a whole new set of challenges. He hoped he could live up to them.
Kevin clung to him until the mill was out of sight. Then he seemed to throw off a weight and scampered ahead. “I know a good picnic place.”
Deidre still looked troubled.
“Do you have any idea what brought that on?” he asked.
She made a small gesture of negation. “It’s always been a favorite place of his. I don’t understand it. He was fine when we were up here last fall.”
“Maybe it reminded him of something scary.”
“That’s probably it.” She looked relieved at the explanation. “I try not to expose him to anything beyond his ability to cope with, but sometimes even the kids’ movies get scary. The other day I left him watching a harmless cartoon while I was getting supper and came back in to find the station was advertising a very inappropriate movie. Luckily it seemed to go right over his head.”
Kevin was protected from some things by his innocence. But not from the danger that had struck Dixie down. The thought lodged in his mind, pricking at him.
Kevin, sure enough, had chosen a spot for their picnic and was waiting for them, bouncing impatiently. “Right here, okay? I’m hungry.”
“That’s good, because I don’t want to carry all this food home.” Deidre swung her pack to the ground in the spot Kevin had found—a smooth, even space a few feet back from the stream, where the trees formed a canopy over them and they could see the falls.
Deidre started pulling things from her pack, and Jase helped her spread out a cloth. Her idea of picnic fare was what a kid would like—cold fried chicken, a container of carrot and celery sticks, another of cut-up fruit and snack bags of chips and pretzels. Remembering he carried the beverages, he got them out and they settled down on the cloth.
Kevin seized a drumstick, then hesitated. “You don’t want the drumstick, do you, Jase?”
He was obviously struggling between his desire to be polite to a guest and his longing for the drumstick, and Jason had to suppress a smile.
“No, I have my eye on this nice meaty piece.” He picked up a thigh. “What about your mother?”
“She never eats the drumsticks,” Kevin said. “I guess she doesn’t like them.”
He found himself loving the smile that lurked in her eyes at that. “I’m sure that’s it,” he said gravely.
He was hungrier than he’d realized, and apparently that was true of the others, too, since no one talked much until the food had been eaten.
Then Kevin lay back on the cloth. “The trees look funny from here. Like they’re upside-down.”
“Maybe you’re upside-down.” Amused, Jason lay back, propped on his elbows, and looked across the boy’s small form at Deidre. She sat relaxed, hands braced behind her. She’d shed the Windbreaker she’d had on earlier, and the clear blue of her T-shirt echoed the clear blue of her eyes.
He was enjoying looking at her entirely too much. He’d better focus on something else before he did something foolish.
He lay back beside Kevin. “What do you see up there?”
“Lots of leaves.”
Kevin pointed, but his voice sounded drowsy. “They’re just starting to come out. They’re baby leaves.”
“I guess they are,” he agreed. “I see clouds moving. They’re sailing along like ships.”
“Yeah, I see that. There’s one, and another one...” He subsided, and his eyes drifted shut midcount.
Jason didn’t move for a few minutes, afraid of disturbing him. But as the boy’s breathing deepened and grew even, Jase sat up.
Deidre smiled. “I had a feeling he’d want a rest about now,” she said softly. “He’s not really quite up to speed after being in the hospital.”
“Seems pretty speedy to me. He even sleeps intently.” It was true. Kevin’s brows were drawn together a little, as if he was focused on his sleep.
“He always did that when he was tiny,” she said. “I never realized a baby could sleep with such concentration. It should have given me a clue as to his personality.”
She was studying her son’s face as she spoke, and her expression induced a reaction in him. He saw love in her eyes, yes, but anxiety, as well. Something troubled her.
“What are you worrying about?” He asked the question before thinking that it might be intrusive.
But she didn’t seem to take it that way. She gave Kevin’s face a featherlight touch. “He always seems so vulnerable when he’s sleeping. It makes me feel even more strongly the need to keep him safe from every threat.”
He felt a similar need to defend her, but never mind that now. “There’s something specific, isn’t there? If you’re still thinking that the person who attacked Dixie will come back...”
She shook her head. “No. Well, I’m concerned, yes. I want to see him caught and put away. But Sylvia...”
Sylvia. The judge’s wife. What had she done to put that fear in Deidre’s face?
“What? What did she do?”
“Nothing.” She took a breath, and he saw that she was struggling to hold something back. Something she didn’t want to put voice to.
Suddenly it seemed too much for her. “She said...she thinks the judge is going to try to force me and Kevin to move in with them.” Once that was out, the words seemed to come more quickly. “I knew he wanted us to do so, but I’d already told him no. I thought he understood that I meant it.”
