“That’ll be the day,” Nadine’s mother had muttered, and her voice had rung with such bitter disappointment, Nadine’s stomach had tightened into a hot little knot.
“Come on, Kev. Ben, we’ve got work to do. You two unload the truck and I’ll split the wood. Nadine, you can bundle up the kindling.”
As Nadine had walked to the back of the woodshed where her father’s ax was planted on a scarred stump, she’d glanced over her shoulder at her mother, who had tucked the broom into a corner of the porch and walked stiffly through the screen door.
If only Mom believed she’d thought then as she’d thought oftentimes since. If only she trusted Dad!
Five years had gone by since that day. Five years of watching as the happiness the small family had once shared had begun to disintegrate, argument by argument. But the fighting wasn’t the worst part. It was the long, protracted silences Nadine found the most painful, when, for days, her mother wouldn’t speak to anyone in the house.
“Don’t worry about it,” her father had advised his children. “She’s just in one of her moods.” Or he’d blame his wife’s sour disposition on “her time of the month.” But Nadine knew that the problems ran much deeper. She was no longer a child, not quite so naive and realized that the root of her mother’s discontent had more to do with her husband than her menstrual cycle.
Her father’s dreams had begun to fade as, year after year, they still lived in the rented house outside of town. Now, not only did her father still work in the mill, but her oldest brother, Kevin, did, as well. Kevin had dropped out of college and returned to Gold Creek—a fatal mistake in Nadine’s opinion. A mistake she’d never make.
She walked so quickly, her legs began to ache. Her skin was damp with perspiration. The forest around the road grew thick, and the only sounds in the night were the thump of her shoes on the pavement and the noise of her own breathing. She thought of Hayden and rubbed her sweaty palms on the front of her cutoffs. Was she on a fool’s mission? What if he wasn’t waiting for her?
The smell of water carried on the wind, and Nadine hurried unerringly to the sandy shore of Whitefire Lake. She grimaced as she considered the old Indian legend that every now and then was whispered in the streets of Gold Creek and wondered if she should stay here until morning, sip from the lake and hope the God of the Sun would bless her. Her lips twisted when she thought about the reverend and what he would say about her blasphemous thoughts.
Following the shore to a dock, she recognized Ben’s boat. Ben had traded a summer’s worth of work as a handyman and yard boy for the boat and he paid a moorage to the owner of the dock, the father of a friend of his. Nadine had no qualms about using the craft. She climbed into the boat and rowed, watching as moonlight ribboned the water and fish rose to the calm surface.
There was no cooling breeze off the lake. The waters were still and calm; the only noises were the lap of her oars as they dipped into the water, and the nervous beat of her heart. Somewhere, in the far distant hills, thunder rumbled ominously.
She rowed toward the middle of the lake, and once she’d put a hundred yards between herself and the shore, she started the engine. The old motor coughed and died before roaring to life. With the partially blocked moon as her guide, and help from a powerful flashlight Ben kept in the boat, she steered the craft toward the north shore.
Three times she passed the entrance to the cove before she found the break in the shoreline that led to the lagoon. Her hands were oily on the helm. Turning inland, she steered through the narrow straight and, as the lake widened again, cut the boat’s engine. Slinging the mooring rope over her shoulder, she hopped over the side and anchored Ben’s craft. If her brother guessed what she was doing, he’d kill her, she thought uneasily, but closed her mind to her family and her problems at home. For now, she had to worry about Hayden. If he didn’t show up, she’d try to take Ben’s advice and forget him; if he did appear, her life would become even more complicated.
Damned if you do. Damned if you don’t. One of her father’s favorite sayings suddenly held a lot more meaning.
Listening to the sounds of the night, she recognized the soft hoot of an owl, the rustle of undergrowth as some night creature passed, the sigh of a gust of sudden wind as it shifted and turned, moving the branches overhead. Nervously she checked the luminous dial of her watch every three minutes.
As the first half hour passed, her reservations grew. How long would she wait? An hour? Two? Until dawn? The first few drops of rain began to fall from the sky.
The snapping of a twig caused her to jump to her feet. Heart pounding in her throat, she whirled, facing the noise. What if it wasn’t Hayden? What if his father...or some criminal escaping justice were hiding in the—
“Nadine?”
His voice made her knees go weak. “Over here.”
She saw him then. His dark profile emerged from a path between two trees. Relief chased away her apprehension and she walked quickly to him.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” he said as she approached, and before she could answer, he swept her into his arms and his lips claimed hers with such hunger, she melted inside. She kissed him eagerly, her arms wrapping around him, her heart thundering. He’d come for her!
His kiss was hot and demanding, his tongue anxious as it parted her lips and easily pried her teeth apart. Together they tumbled to the ground, hands and arms holding each other close. “Nadine, Nadine,” he whispered hoarsely over and over again.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t show up,” she whispered, tears suddenly filling her eyes.
“I said I would.”
“But you were with—”
“Shh.” He kissed her again. More tenderly. “I couldn’t have not come here if I’d wanted to,” he admitted, sighing as if his fate were sealed and he had no way to change it. “I was afraid you wouldn’t be here.”
“I told myself I’d wait until dawn.”
“And then?”
“Then I’d figure that you didn’t want to be with me.”
“If you only knew,” he whispered against her ear, his fingers twining in her hair.
He touched her chin, cupping her face, his eyes dark as a raindrop slid down his nose. “Nothing could have stopped me from being here. Not God. Not the devil. And not even my father.”
She thrilled as his lips found hers again and she kissed him feverishly. He moaned into her mouth as the kiss deepened, touching her very soul. His hands were gentle, but firm, and one of his legs wedged between hers. Her fingers curled over his shoulders and her breath was hot and trapped in her lungs. An uncoiling warmth started deep within her, spinning in hot circles, and caused her to press against him.
His hands found the hem of her T-shirt and explored the firm flesh of her abdomen, searching and probing, moving ever so slightly upward, scaling her ribs. She thought she would go mad with want and her own fingers tugged his shirt free of his jeans and felt the hard muscles of his chest, the light springy hair, the flat nipples that seemed to move beneath her hands. Groaning, he reached into her bra, drawing out breasts that ached for his touch.
Nadine’s nipples reacted and she wanted more. He yanked her T-shirt over her head and gazed down at her. Within seconds he’d disposed of the lacy scrap of cloth and was kneading her gently, his tanned hands dark against her white, veined skin, rain beginning to splash against the ground.
She moaned, and when he dipped his head to suckle, a shock wave caused her to buck against him, her hips instinctively pressing against his.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he said, his breath fanning her wet, taut nipple and causing an ache between her legs. She writhed as his tongue flicked across the hard tip. She wrenched off his shirt and her