She returned the kiss vigorously, then abruptly pushed Dev away and snuck out

from underneath her arm. She was breathing hard and she was wet again, and

she was almost afraid to let Dev know how much she wanted her every single

second. “But I happen to be hungry for pancakes.”

“Then try to behave while we’re in there,” Dev threatened, seizing Leslie’s hand

once more. “Because you’re driving me crazy.”

“Oh good.”


“Have a heart. I don’t want your mother to see me whimpering and drooling.”

“Why not? She knows we’ve got something going on.”

“She does?” Dev asked in surprise.

“Well, she knows I’ve got the major hots for you.”

“How?”

“Because I told her.”

Dev stopped again. “You did? When?”

Leslie dipped her head, suddenly shy. “More or less all summer. I think she

knew before I did how serious it was.”

“Serious, huh?” Dev circled Leslie’s waist and pulled her close.

She brushed her cheek against Leslie’s, then murmured in her ear,

“How serious?”

“Very.” Leslie wrapped her arms around Dev’s shoulders and leaned her head

on Dev’s shoulder as she watched the mist rise off the lake and burn away in the

early morning sunshine. “We’re never going to make it to the lodge if you keep

grabbing me.”

“Can’t help myself.” Dev stroked Leslie’s hair. “I’ve got a lot of time to make

up for.”

“Could take a while.”

“I know.”

“I’m hungry.”

Dev laughed. “I love you.”

“I love you. Give me a cup of coffee and something to eat and I’ll show you just

how much.”

“Last night you promised to help your father down at the boathouse this

morning.”

Leslie frowned. “I did? That must have been when I was fantasizing about silk

scarves and tying you—”

“Oh yeah. Sounds good.” Dev kissed her quickly. “But we don’t have to do it

all today. We’ve got time.”

“Do we?” Leslie asked softly.

“Remember our deal,” Dev said softly. “Food Þ rst, then go help your father.

We’ll talk this afternoon before we go back to the cabin.”

Leslie nodded seriously, wishing they could pretend just a little while longer that

this magic time would never end. “All right.”

“It will be okay, Les,” Dev said, but her eyes were troubled.

“I know,” Leslie said, wanting fervently to believe.


Dev leaned back on her elbows on the grassy slope, enjoying the sunshine, the

breeze off the lake, and the view. The best part of the view was Leslie, cleaning

and stowing gear under her father’s direction down on the dock. She’d dressed

for dirty work in cut-off blue jeans, a faded T-shirt, and old sneakers. Dev

hadn’t seen her look so casual, or so relaxed, since their last summer in high

school. Leslie was all woman now, but her light laughter ß oating up the hill

reminded Dev of when they were kids and the summer seemed endless. For the

Þ rst time, the memories didn’t hurt.

As Leslie walked up the hill, she studied Dev with a quizzical expression. “What

are you thinking of?”

“You.”

To her surprise, Leslie felt herself blushing. They’d spent nearly every minute

since she’d arrived making love, and there hadn’t been a place on her body Dev

hadn’t touched. But the tender way she spoke as she gazed at her—as if Leslie

were the most beautiful woman in the world—struck a chord far deeper than

even the intense physical passion they had shared. Leslie dropped down next to

Dev and kissed her on the cheek. “What about me?”

“I was just thinking that being with you now has given me back some of the

most important moments of my life.” Dev covered Leslie’s hand with hers. “I

feel like I’ve spent my whole life loving you.” She met Leslie’s gaze. “And it’s all

good, now.”

Leslie’s lips parted as her eyes quickly misted over. “Oh, Dev. I don’t think I

can stand not to be with you.”

With a sigh, Dev sat up and folded her arms on her bent knees.

“I’ve been offered a research position at the Freshwater Institute.”

“In Bolton?” Leslie said, picturing the lab only twenty minutes away from her

parents’ house. Three hours from Manhattan.

“Yes.”

“Is that what you want, though?” Leslie asked, Þ nding it hard to believe that

Dev would be happy working inside in a lab all the time.

“I wouldn’t take it unless they let me make my own schedule, including time

away for Þ eldwork.” Dev met Leslie’s gaze. “I’d be a lot closer to you, then,

most of the time.”

“But is it what you want?”


“What I want, Leslie, is you.”

“What about…what I do?” Leslie asked softly. “You must hate it.”

Dev shrugged, smiling slightly. “I’ve spent enough time as an expert witness to

know that the environmental protection laws aren’t perfect. On some level, I

understand what bothers you about them. And why you defend people accused

of breaking them.” She gazed out at the lake, thinking about the schools of Þ sh

that had been driven out by pollution and misuse of the waterways. “But they’re

the best we have, so I have to work with them. I have to do what I can while

there’s still time.”

“And you don’t think that would eventually come between—”

“Greetings!” Natalie called, striding across the lawn toward them.

She was in uniform, and her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and tucked

beneath a green cap with the forest service emblem on the front. “Hi, Leslie.

Dev said you were coming up, but I thought it was tonight.”

“I came up a day early, as it happens.”

Natalie’s eyes ß ickered to Dev, and Leslie saw her expression change to one

of speculation. “Really. So how are you doing?”

“Fine. Great, actually,” Leslie said, leaning back slightly to look up as Natalie

stopped beside her. “How about you?”

Natalie squatted down with a shake of her head. “Ask me at the end of this

crazy weekend. It’s the last big rush until leaf season.

Everybody’s trying to catch the last little bit of summer.”

“I feel the same way, even if the lake is already too cold to swim.”

Leslie realized she wasn’t jealous, even though Natalie had probably expected

to Þ nd Dev alone. Dev was by her side, had awakened in her bed, had called

her name in the night. “I hope things stay quiet for you.”

“They might,” Natalie said with a sigh, her eyes narrowing as she stared down to

the water. “If people would stop doing idiotic things like that.”

Leslie followed her gaze. A tour boat, one of the broad, ß at-bottomed

sightseeing craft Þ lled with rows of deck chairs for people to sit in while the

boat made a slow circuit along the shoreline, lumbered into view. It was packed

with people, standing and sitting. More people than Leslie could ever remember

seeing in one of those boats.


“I can’t imagine that’s very much fun,” Leslie said, “being crammed together like

sard—oh my God!”

“Jesus Christ!” Dev shouted, jumping up.

The boat tilted to one side and, in a fraction of a second, capsized.

Leslie, Dev, and Natalie raced toward the water as the panicked shouts of the

people who had been thrown into the lake seventy feet from shore Þ lled the air.

“We need rescue boats in Bolton Landing by the Lakeview,”

Natalie shouted into her radio. “And paramedics. We’ve got people in the

water. At least two dozen.”

While Natalie was organizing the rescue, Leslie and Dev kicked off their shoes

and dove into the lake. Some people were already straggling to shore but others

were clearly in trouble, ß ailing in the water and screaming. Leslie, her strokes

hard and clean, swam past the people who were close enough to make it to

safety on their own. She saw at least three people go under and not come up

again. Dev was close by, slightly behind her. Dev had never been as fast as

Leslie in the water.

Leslie reached the Þ rst ß oundering victim in less than a minute.

“Stop struggling and let me help you,” she shouted, treading water a few feet

away to avoid being struck by the man’s windmilling arms.

“I can’t swim,” he cried hoarsely, his eyes wild with panic. “My wife. My wife. I

can’t Þ nd my wife.”

“I’ll tow you to shore,” Leslie called, cautiously approaching.

“Let me grab your shirt. Don’t hit me.”

Her words seemed to penetrate his panic, because he relaxed enough for her to

get her arm over his shoulder from behind and under his armpit. “Just relax and

kick your feet. I’ll do the rest of the work.”

“My wife,” he gasped. “Please Þ nd my wife.”

When Leslie got him close enough to shore that he could stand on the bottom,

she let him go. Natalie and her mother and some of the guests were helping

people from the water. Leslie didn’t stop, but turned and immediately swam

back to the overturned boat. The white-painted bottom glinted unnaturally in the

sunlight. She dove, powering down until she could peer around the side into

what had been the open passenger compartment. She’d hoped that air, and