They climbed onto the porch and Leslie reached for the suitcase Dev had

carried. She said, “I’ll be running the skiff for at least the next week or so. I

don’t have a problem swinging by your site to check on things.”

Dev shook her head. “It’s a good hour just to get out there, Les, and I know

how much you have to do too.”

Leslie answered lightly, “Multitasking is nothing new. Let me Þ ll my mother in

on what’s going on here, and I’ll meet you at the boat in a few minutes. Do you

need help transferring your gear from the truck?”

“No, I’ve got it.”

Thirty minutes later, Leslie piloted the twenty-foot Chris-Craft cruiser north

toward the Glen Island chain. She handled the boat with conÞ dent efÞ ciency.

Despite the air temperature being in the mid-70s, the combination of wind and

spray was cold. Dev’s shirt was plastered to her chest, as was Leslie’s, by the

time they slowed on their approach to one of the undeveloped islands.

“Which side?” Leslie called, looking over her shoulder to where Dev sat. She

stared for a second longer than was necessary, registering the unmistakable

outline of Dev’s breasts and remembering just how they had felt against hers the

night before. Firm and tight-nippled and wonderful. She looked away.

“Northeast tip,” Dev replied. As Leslie drew closer to shore, Dev pointed to a

small sandy crescent rimming the thick woods at the water’s edge. “What do

you think about over there?”

“I think you’re going to get the hell scratched out of you breaking trail through

that underbrush.”

Dev grinned. “I think you’re right.”

“I also think that’s the only place to put up.” Leslie looked back at Dev again.

“This terrain is pretty rugged. Can’t you do this work from a campsite on one of

the other islands?”

• 137 •

RADCLY fFE

“Too much water trafÞ c.” The engine noise had quieted enough for Dev to be

heard without shouting. “Even with only a couple of boats coming in with

campers every day, the turbulence from the prop wash stirs up the bottom. Can

you drift in from here?”

Leslie cut the engine ten feet from shore. “I’m going to get out and pull her in.”

“Forget it. You’ll get soaked.” Dev clambered up on the bow and before Leslie

could protest, jumped into the knee-deep water to grab the towline. In a minute,

she’d waded to shore and secured the boat with a line around a nearby tree.

“Does the wake really make that much difference to what you’re studying?”

Leslie asked, intrigued. She’d grown up on the lake, but she’d never really

thought about it in such microcosmic terms.

“Yes. Here, start passing me the gear,” Dev said. As Leslie handed down crates

and Dev’s tent, sleeping bag, and other supplies, Dev explained. “We’ve looked

at water velocity at lake bottoms with Dopplers and measured the water

turbidity with optical backscatter sensors—even motorboats running as slow as

six miles an hour stir up the sediment and change the water clarity and nutrient

composition.”

“And?”

“Aquatic plant growth is altered, which affects the Þ sh feeding patterns.” Dev

glanced out at the lake, then back at Leslie. “And the backwash makes it easier

for contaminants in the water to be transported to other regions of the lake.”

Leslie climbed down from the boat and hefted Dev’s duffel. “What are you

doing for food?”

“K rations. Dehydrated meals. I’ve got water-purifying tablets so I can use

boiled lake water. I’ve done this before, Les. I’ll be Þ ne.” Dev took the duffel

from her. “There’s no point you getting torn up too. I’ve got long sleeves. I’ll be

Þ ne from here.”

Leslie scanned the island. It was isolated from the others, densely forested and

rocky, and not designated for normal camping. Dev would be here alone. The

thought made her uneasy. “Do you have extra batteries for the two-way?”

“In my dry pack.”

“I’ll wear the radio. If you don’t check in with me twice a day, I’ll be out.”

Dev frowned. “Besides the fact you’ll contaminate my test waters, there’s

nothing for you to worry—”

• 138 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

“I’m really not interested in negotiating this, Devon. Either check in, or I’ll be out

here stirring up your sediment.” Leslie gestured toward the woods. “Your other

option is that I stay.”

“To protect me?” Dev couldn’t help herself. She grinned.

“You think I couldn’t?”

Dev knew Leslie was capable of doing any number of things to her, and

protection wasn’t at the top of the list. Still, Leslie’s concern made her feel

good. Too good.

“I’ll call in. Thanks.”

Dev stared at Leslie across the pile of gear, aware of the sudden awkwardness.

Leslie, in an uncharacteristic show of uncertainty, shufß ed one foot in the sand

as she scanned the woods behind Dev.

“You sure about this?” Leslie asked softly.

No. I’m not sure about anything where you’re concerned. Dev nodded,

grateful for the barrier between them. Sunlight slanted across Leslie’s face, and

she was so beautiful. Because looking at her was sweetly painful, Dev knew it

was time for them to part.

“Yeah. I’ll be Þ ne. You should take off.”

Reluctantly, Leslie climbed back into the boat. Dev waded into the water and

pushed her out from shore, then returned to the tiny beach.

“I’ll pick you up in Þ ve days, right?” Leslie called.

“Right.”

“Be careful.”

Dev waved and Leslie started the motor, carefully backing away from the

shallows before revving up the power. Dev followed the boat until it was just a

tiny speck in the distance. She hoped that when Leslie returned, the ache of

longing she felt every time she looked at her would Þ nally be gone.

• 139 •

• 140 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

How are things going?” Leslie asked, four days after she’d dropped Dev off on

the island. She leaned against the porch railing and breathed deeply of the cool

morning air, picturing Dev in the woods in her jeans, boots, and T-shirt. The

radio transmission was remarkably good, and it sounded as if Dev were right

next to her. She looked forward to their twice-a-day communications, not only

because she worried with Dev working alone, but also because she enjoyed

their brief shared updates.

“On schedule. I’m working my way around the southern tip of the island today,

and should Þ nish up tomorrow. How about you?”

“My father’s coming home today. We have a new cook. Life is good.” Leslie

heard Dev laugh and realized life was good. Once her mother had returned, the

two of them had been able to handle things at the lodge with enough time left

over for Leslie to look over the cases from the local ofÞ ce. She worked, she

walked on the beach, and she’d started to sleep more than three hours a night.

“Sounds good,” Dev said. “So I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Will do. Take care.”

“Always.”

Leslie clicked off the radio, smiling as she envisioned Dev at work on the island.

She never would have predicted Dev as a scientist, and a Þ sh expert at that,

but now it seemed so natural. So Dev, really. Dev had always been an

observer, apart from things, so very private. It had always been special when

Dev had shared her thoughts and feelings, because Leslie knew it was rare for

her. Being Dev’s friend had made her feel special.

• 141 •

RADCLY fFE

“Was that Dev?” Eileen asked.

Leslie jumped. She hadn’t heard her mother come out onto the porch.

“Yes,” Leslie replied, aware that her mother was studying her intently. “She’s Þ

ne.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re checking in with her,” Eileen said casually.

She crossed the porch, carrying a cup of coffee. “How come I never met her

when the two of you were teenagers? You’re obviously very good friends.”

Leslie contemplated some neutral explanation and then thought perhaps it was

time to bridge another rift in her life. “We weren’t friends like I was friends with

the other girls. We didn’t do social things together. We just…talked.”

“But you were close, weren’t you? I can tell from the way you talk to her. And

the way she looks at you.”

“What do you mean—the way she looks at me?” Despite herself, Leslie felt

herself blushing.

Eileen sipped her coffee and smiled softly. “I think even if you hadn’t told me

you were a lesbian, I would have noticed that she follows you with her eyes the

way I’m used to seeing men watch women.”

Leslie snorted, thinking of Mike and the few men after him she’d dated. “I doubt

it. Dev is nothing like a man.”

“There are some men who truly do appreciate women,” Eileen said gently.

“Your father is one.”

“I know,” Leslie admitted. “You’re right. Still, Daddy is special.”

She braced her hands on the railing and leaned out, letting the sunlight strike her

face, enjoying the warmth and the smell of summer. “Dev always treated me as