had, but Dev knew her the instant she started down the stairs, an expensivelooking

leather briefcase swinging from a strap over one shoulder and a suitcase

in the other hand. She was far thinner than Dev ever remembered her being, her

face and body sculpted by maturity. An atmosphere of tension surrounded her.

Even at a distance her body seemed tightly coiled, wary and alert—predatory.

Up close, her blue eyes were cool and appraising. She was beautiful in a way

she hadn’t been as a teenager, the innocence having given way to razor-sharp

elegance. But for just a second Dev saw the air shimmering around her and

imagined she felt the tug of the invisible string that had once connected them.

As Dev stepped from the truck, she reminded herself that that tie had only been

in her mind and that it had been irrevocably severed long ago.

v

Leslie stopped at the curb and scanned the parking lot for her mother’s ancient

Jeep. Rensselaer was not a busy stop on the train route, and there were only a

handful of cars waiting. Her mother’s wasn’t among them.

“Damn,” she muttered, sliding her hand into her briefcase and unerringly closing

her Þ ngers around her BlackBerry. She’d just pulled up the lodge number,

since her mother didn’t have a cell phone, when someone spoke her name.

Startled, Leslie looked up into hazel eyes that she knew better than her own and

tumbled back in time Þ fteen years.

• 38 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

Leslie wasn’t all that surprised that the party was turning into a drag. Mike

was drinking too much as usual and generally being an asshole. Fortunately, he

was off playing pool and at least leaving her alone for the time being. She hated

it when he put on a big show of making out with her in public. As if she was

going to let him feel her up in front of all his buddies. Yeah right.

Restless, not knowing why, she left him to his game and drifted away from the

crowd. It was so hot and stuffy in the room and the beer was already too warm

and she knew she should be having a good time, but she wasn’t. She was sad.

She shouldn’t be sad, and that just made it worse. She’d just graduated from

high school at the top of her class and she was going to a great college.

Everything was turning out just the way she’d hoped. Well, Mike wasn’t going

to the same school.

His grades weren’t good enough. But he wouldn’t be that far away and she

didn’t really mind if she didn’t see him all that often anyhow.

Sometimes, she was glad that she’d be with new people who didn’t know her.

It felt almost as if she’d be starting her life all over again, and that part was

exciting.

So why was she so sad?

She unlatched the huge wooden-paned window, swung it out over the water,

and climbed up onto the broad sill. She leaned her head back as the breeze

washed over her and watched the moon ß it in and out between the clouds. It

was amazing how bright the night sky could be.

It wasn’t really black at all, more like a dark, dark blue. It was beautiful.

She’d miss the lake and the woods and the way the air smelled like it had never

been breathed before. And there was something more important that she would

miss. Something she knew she should understand, but she couldn’t Þ nd the

words. Every time she tried, all she felt was frustration and, oddly, fear. That

was just crazy and, besides, she could always come back, so there was no

reason to feel sad about anything.

Leslie jumped at the sudden cold on her leg and heard the voice she been

waiting for all night but hadn’t expected to hear.

“Dev! I thought you said you weren’t coming.”

Even in the moonlight, the smile in Dev’s eyes was clear. As Leslie reached for

the beer, her Þ ngers glanced over Dev’s, and although she gave it no more than

an instant’s thought, she felt her sadness wash away.

• 39 •

RADCLY fFE

Leslie Harris saw no sign of a smile in those eyes now, not that she would have

expected one. Annoyed at the uncharacteristic slip in her concentration and

where her thoughts had taken her, she kept her expression neutral as she rapidly

regrouped. The fragments of a past that felt as if it belonged to someone else

melted away like frost on a windowpane, leaving nothing behind but an

unnoticed trail of tears.

Then she was herself again, calculating and in control. “Hello, Dev.”

“Hi, Les,” Dev said.

“My guess is this isn’t a coincidence.” Leslie suspected her displeasure showed

in her voice, because Dev shrugged apologetically.

“Your mother’s Jeep is on the fritz, and since I’m staying at the lodge, I offered

to pick you up. Sorry.”

“No, I appreciate it. Thanks.” Unconsciously, Leslie studied her the way she

would a prospective witness, searching for the whole truth, the real story. It

disturbed her when she couldn’t read anything in Dev’s face. “I hope you didn’t

go out of your way.”

“No. I was in the area.” Dev lifted Leslie’s suitcase. “My truck’s over here.”

“Would you mind waiting just a minute while I get a cup of coffee in the station?

Whatever they were trying to pass off as coffee on the train was undrinkable.”

“Sure. That black Chevy is mine.”

“Can I get you anything?”

“A Coke would be great. Thanks.”

God, this is going to be an interminable ride home, Leslie thought as she

stood in line at the coffee bar. Maybe I should rethink my plans for this visit

if we might run into each other again.

“Large black coffee and a Coke, please,” Leslie said automatically while

checking her BlackBerry for messages. She didn’t give a second thought to the

fact that she was supposed to limit her coffee consumption. Upon her release

from the hospital the previous afternoon, part of the discharge instructions had

been no caffeine—along with an admonition to avoid chocolate, get plenty of

rest, reduce her stress level, and schedule the follow-up tests as soon as

possible. She’d also been given a prescription for a blood pressure med and

verapamil, which was supposed to keep her heart rate from rising too rapidly.

Thus far, her only form of compliance had been to limit her morning coffee to

three cups instead of Þ ve.

• 40 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

The fact was, she felt perfectly Þ ne.

By the time she’d gotten home the night before, she’d decided that the severity

of the entire episode had been vastly exaggerated. Whatever had happened

could easily be chalked up to a few days of excessive stress and poor eating

habits. Since she’d already cleared her calendar, and she’d still be able to work

while upstate, she decided to go through with her plans to spend a week or two

with her parents. Other than that, as far as she was concerned it was back to

business as usual.

As she carried the drinks to the truck, she observed Dev through the window. If

they had passed in the parking lot, Leslie wasn’t sure she would have

recognized her, although she certainly would have given her an appreciative

glance. Her hair was still on the shaggy side, but Dev had Þ lled out and grown

another inch or two, and she’d been taller than Leslie even in high school. Back

then Dev had been wiry and wild, and now she was broad shouldered and

muscular looking in her white button-down-collar shirt and black jeans. It

wasn’t just Dev’s body that had changed. They had once shared effortless

communication, but now all she felt was a distant reserve. That was good,

because the last thing she wanted was a trip down memory lane.

“Here you go.” Leslie passed the Coke across the passenger compartment

before grasping the handle above the door and climbing into the truck. Her skirt

rode up to mid-thigh before she had a chance to pull it down, but she noticed

out of the corner of her eye that Dev stared straight ahead out the windshield.

Leslie was slightly and quite irrationally annoyed at being pointedly ignored, not

that she wanted Dev to pay that kind of attention to her.

“Thanks.” Dev slotted the Coke into the cup holder on the dash and started the

truck. She pulled out of the parking lot, rapidly maneuvered the bypasses

around Albany and Troy, and headed north on Interstate 87.

Fifteen minutes passed in silence before Dev said, “Your mother tells me you’re

a lawyer.”

“Yes. I’m a partner in a law Þ rm in Manhattan.”

“Partner already. You must’ve worked your ass off,” Dev said, duly impressed.

“Not really,” Leslie said, unbuttoning her blazer as the cab warmed up in the late

afternoon sun. She wore an off-white silk shell beneath it, conscious of the fact

that a hint of her lace bra showed through when her blazer was open. Whereas

Dev felt like a stranger— was a

• 41 •

RADCLY fFE

stranger—Leslie was acutely conscious of her presence. Even if she had known

nothing about her, Leslie would have assumed she was a lesbian. Dev was