When Dreams Tremble

CHAPTER ONE

All set to add another notch to your belt, LJ?”

Leslie Harris glanced up from the deposition transcript, hiding her annoyance at

the interruption and the uninvited familiarity.

She’d made the mistake of leaving her ofÞ ce door partly open when she’d

arrived at 4:30 a.m., and now she discovered with a quick glance at her Piaget it

was close to seven, and the troops were arriving. It wasn’t like her to lose track

of the time.

Absently tucking a strand of her shoulder-length, ash blond hair behind her ear,

she smiled automatically at the junior associate who leaned into her ofÞ ce.

Mentally, she ran his stats. Tom Smith. Eager, just like every other ambitious

young attorney, and smart enough to recognize the important players in the Þ

rm. Points for that. Just the slightest bit obvious with his ß irtatious attention.

Minor demerit. She crossed her silk-stocking-clad legs beneath the skirt of her

custom-tailored Armani suit and shrugged. “Just another day at the ofÞ ce,

Tom.”

“Oh yeah. Like it’s every day we take on the Feds with a couple of million at

stake.”

“Uh-huh.” Actually, for her it was a near-daily occurrence, because defending

corporations in big-ticket, high-proÞ le lawsuits was her specialty. And she

liked to win. Every time. Her ferocious drive had shaped her career from the

start, as had her unfailing ability to read a jury and emphasize just the right

aspects of the case to garner their sympathy. She’d fast-tracked to partner

seven years out of law school, and her pace, if anything, had picked up in the

last year since she’d moved into a corner ofÞ ce.

But she had neither the time nor the inclination to point all this out to Tom. She’d

barely squeezed in her daily workout at the gym before coming to the ofÞ ce to

prepare for a big morning in court. She was also juggling six other cases that

were every bit as important as the one she was due to defend in two hours

before the United States District Court for the Eastern District of New York.

She reached for her fourth cup of coffee of the morning and went back to

reading.

“Get you something from the coffee shop, LJ? Bagel?”

“What?” Leslie glanced up again, surprised to see Tom still standing there.

Didn’t he have any work to do? “No. Thanks. I’m Þ ne.”

Breakfast wasn’t on her schedule. She’d be lucky if she remembered to grab a

yogurt at lunch, because the midday recess was a critical time to recap the case

with her client and revamp strategy. Working lunch was just a euphemism for

more work, and rarely included food. Fortunately, as far as tough battles went,

today’s case was middle-of-the-road.

United States v. Harlan Vehicles, LLC, et al. She knew the facts verbatim of

course, but her defense wouldn’t center on the facts. It was true that her client,

Harlan Vehicles, had imported 11,000 pieces of gasoline- and diesel-powered

equipment over the past nine months that didn’t meet the federal Clean Air Act

emission requirements. Arguing that point would be folly, because the measured

levels of smog-forming volatile organic compounds and nitrous oxides in the

exhaust was irrefutable. She never based a case on discrediting the science,

because Americans were programmed to believe facts and Þ gures. No, her

ammunition had to be more personal, something that Joe Juror could relate to.

And when the federal government assessed the company millions of dollars in

penalties and Þ nes after the special agents from the Justice Department and

U.S. Customs seized the equipment, she had just the weapon she needed.

She couldn’t make the charges go away, but she didn’t need to.

After all, what average citizen couldn’t be made to appreciate that levying

crippling costs on Harlan meant a higher price tag for them the next time they

went to buy a snowmobile for their kids for Christmas?

In this kind of case, reducing the monetary damages to tens of thousands rather

than millions of dollars—what amounted to a slap on the wrist for a corporation

the size of Harlan—was a major win.

Still mentally reviewing the order of her witness list, Leslie drained her coffee

cup and rose to get a reÞ ll. As a sudden wave of

dizziness rolled through her, she dropped her coffee cup onto the thick Persian

rug. Reß exively, she braced both arms on the desk, lowered her head, and

took several long, slow breaths. It was frighteningly difÞ cult to catch her breath,

and her heart felt as if it might dance its way up her throat and right out of her

body. She blinked and forced herself to focus on the pens and papers covering

her desk until the room stopped spinning and the black curtain obscuring her

vision lifted. Then, when she was sure she wasn’t going to faint, she carefully

lowered herself into her chair. Worried that someone might have witnessed her

spell or whatever the hell it was, she checked the door to be sure no one was

nearby.

Thankfully, the hall was empty. The last thing she needed was for her colleagues

to get the impression that she wasn’t up to form.

Her adversaries in the courtroom weren’t the only ones who killed the weak.

She got along well with her partners, but she wouldn’t exactly call them her

friends. Nevertheless, the thin veneer covering aggressive competitiveness didn’t

bother her. This was the battleÞ eld she had chosen, or perhaps the one that

had chosen her, and she intended to triumph.

“Ready to head over, LJ?” Stephanie Ackerman called from the doorway.

Leslie’s paralegal, a voluptuous redhead four inches shorter than Leslie’s Þ ve

foot six, pulled a rolling cart with two enormous briefcases strapped to it. In the

other hand, she carried a venti cappuccino.

“Just about.” Leslie smiled brightly and hoped she didn’t look as pale as she felt.

Even though her breathing was more comfortable, she still felt an odd ß uttering

sensation in her chest. Maybe no breakfast after three hours’ sleep wasn’t such

a good idea after all. “Do me a favor and grab a Danish along with another

coffee for me, will you?”

“Sure. I’ll meet you by the elevators.”

Leslie waited until Stephanie disappeared to Þ ll her own briefcase with the

notes and Þ les she’d need. By the time she joined Stephanie, she felt Þ ne.

While the elevator descended, she nibbled on the Danish and scanned the

messages on her BlackBerry. When the doors slid open, she dropped the

remaining half of the pastry into a nearby wastebasket.

She didn’t need food; the upcoming mental combat was all the fuel she needed

to energize her.

By three in the afternoon the next day, Leslie knew she’d have another win in

her column. The trial was still a long way from over, but she’d sensed the subtle

change of mood in the members of the jury, from wary and perplexed—as

they’d listened to the assistant U.S.

attorney recite dry statistics and a litany of rules and regulations—to

sympathetic, when she’d pointed out the massive expense and time required for

her client to comply with those same rules and regulations.

Her subtle point, time and time again, had been that Harlan Vehicles wished to

be in compliance with the law despite the heavy Þ nancial burden placed upon

them by government regulation, and that levying huge penalties would only make

it more difÞ cult for them. Oh yes, any taxpayer would understand that.

As she listened to the testimony of another of the government’s scientiÞ c

experts, she ran numbers in her head, calculating how much she might be able to

rein in the penalties. A very great deal, she wagered.

“Your witness, Counselor,” the judge said.

“Thank you, Your Honor.” Leslie rose quickly and strode briskly from behind

the defense table. She had only a second to register the violent racing of her

heart before she fainted.

LJ!

My God, Leslie! Someone get some water!

“I’m Þ ne. Fine,” Leslie said weakly. Vaguely aware of the fact that she was

lying on the ß oor in the middle of the courtroom, she struggled to sit up.

Someone held her down with the slightest touch to her shoulder, and she didn’t

have the strength to protest. Her vision wavered and she felt as if she were

trying to breathe underwater. “No, please. Really. I…just need…a little air.”

She heard the judge hastily adjourning for the day and ß ushed with

embarrassment. She was used to being the center of attention, but not like this.

Stephanie’s face swam into view, and Leslie Þ xed on the bright blue eyes a

shade lighter than her own. When her head cleared enough that she thought she

could stand without falling, she said, “Help me up, Steph. I’m okay.”

Stephanie and Bill Mallory, Leslie’s second chair, guided her to her feet.

Stephanie kept her arm around Leslie’s waist. “You’re white as a sheet, LJ.”

“I feel like…” Leslie couldn’t get enough air to Þ nish the sentence and the room

went dim. “I think I need…hospital.”

Almost 275 miles due north of the courthouse, Dr. Devon Weber waded into

Lake George up to her waist. Her waterproof boots and waders kept her dry,

but not warm, and the familiar ache in her right hip appeared before she’d gone

ten feet. It might be almost mid-June, but the lake was still frigid, its temperature

lagging far behind that of the air, which was only in the high sixties despite the

bright sunshine. Still, she was used to being wet and cold and sore; it came with

the job.

“Can’t you do that from the boat?” Park Ranger Sergeant Natalie Evans called

from shore.

“I can feel the bottom better when I walk on it!” Dev yelled back, thinking a

little enviously that the petite brunette shufß ing her boots on the packed brown

earth at the water’s edge looked warm and comfortable in her khaki uniform

and spring-weight ß ak jacket.

“Mud’s mud,” Natalie said.

Dev smiled to herself. She was used to people Þ nding her work and her

interests strange, even professionals like Natalie who had a better understanding

than most of what she was doing. Dev kept going until the water was an inch

below the top of her waders and she felt the accumulation of soil, plant detritus,

and decomposing organic matter change consistency beneath her feet.

“I can bring the launch out and at least hand you sample bottles,”

Natalie offered.

“Thanks, but you’ll rile the waters with the boat. I’ll just be a minute.” Dev

opened her canvas shoulder bag and slid out a plastic collection bottle the size

of a maraschino cherry jar. With her other hand, she slowly inserted a long metal

rod with a suction chamber on the far end straight down through the water and

several inches into the lake bottom next to her foot. By depressing a button with

her thumb, she was able to extract a small sample. She secured the specimen in

the collection jar and dropped it into her bag. “That’s number one.”

On the shore, Natalie noted the date, time, ambient temperature, water

temperature, and exact location on a lined sheet of paper afÞ xed to a

clipboard.

“I appreciate you playing secretary,” Dev said as she waded back to shore.

“I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than follow me around.”

“Not a problem.” Actually, Natalie did have other things to do, but none that

she would have found quite as pleasant. She was a park ranger stationed on the

western shore of Lake George in Bolton Landing, New York. She patrolled a

portion of the three hundred square miles of parkland that surrounded the lake,

which was thirty-two miles long and three miles wide at some points. Despite

the fact that the enormous body of water, nestled in the heart of the Adirondack

Mountains, was one of the most popular tourist attractions on the East Coast,

much of the surrounding mountains was still as wild and untamed as it had been

for centuries. It was her job to keep both nature and those who came to enjoy it

safe.

“I’m supposed to have a summer intern starting next week.” Dev’s leg had

progressed from sore to stiff, and she climbed awkwardly up the slippery slope

in her heavy gear. When Natalie extended a hand to steady her, she grabbed it.

Natalie’s Þ ngers closed on hers, warm and strong. “Thanks.”

“Hey, it’s kind of interesting.” Natalie tried to keep her expression from

revealing the precise nature of her interest as she observed the woman who had

arrived the previous afternoon at the regional park headquarters. Everything

about Devon Weber—from her collar-length, almost-but-not-quite-messy light

chestnut hair to her tight athletic build and the casual self-conÞ dence in her

hazel eyes—said she was a lesbian, but Natalie never relied on impressions to

make that call.

Since they were going to be working together in close proximity for the next few

months, she didn’t want to create any kind of awkwardness between them. She

was interested, but she could be patient. “Besides, I’ve got the radio, and if

something comes up, I’ll just leave you to fend for yourself.”

“That’s nice of you.” Dev grinned. “I think.”

Natalie smiled back. “Just how many samples do you plan on taking?”

“Well,” Dev said, ß icking the hair back off her forehead as they headed up the

narrow path that had been cut through the thick pines on either side by animals

making their way to the water, “between soil, water, vegetation, and Þ sh

specimens? Couple thousand.”

“You’re kidding.”

When Natalie stopped abruptly, Dev bumped into her and Natalie’s shoulder

brushed across Dev’s breasts. Natalie’s long, dark hair was caught back with a

soft tie at the base of her neck and the wind blew

• 18 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

a silky strand smelling of mountain laurel into Dev’s face. Dev’s lips tingled and

she stepped back.

“Nope. I’m serious. It’s been eight months since the last multitiered biologic

survey was done on the lake. With the increase in commercial and recreational

boat trafÞ c and the prevalence of industry in the adjoining areas, we need to

revamp all our statistics.”

“I always thought people at your level just sat in the lab while grunts slogged

around out here collecting samples,” Natalie teased as they reached the green

and white truck with the emblem of the New York State Department of

Environmental Conservation on the side.

“I’m old-fashioned, I guess,” Dev said as she stripped off her outer gear and

stowed it in the back of Natalie’s SUV. Beneath it she wore jeans, a shortsleeved

denim shirt, and a light zip-up navy vest.

She climbed into the truck and shifted to Þ nd a good position for her sore hip

as Natalie slid behind the wheel. “Sometimes the only way to know there’s a

problem is to see for yourself. If I just send out someone who isn’t an expert on

the water life to randomly collect specimens, we could miss the early signs of

pollutant effects on the Þ sh population.”

“That’s your thing, right? You’re a Þ sh guy?” Natalie backed out of the parking

lot and headed north on Route 9, which wended its way along the shore and

through the small villages that dotted the lakeside.

“Yeah, close enough.” Dev unfolded her regional survey map to check the next

sample site. “I’m a freshwater biologist. I started out studying Þ sh populations

and got interested in the effects of environmental alterations on breeding and

population dynamics.”

“So that’s how you ended up with the DEC.”

“Technically, I’m an independent consultant, but I’m heading up a joint survey

this summer with the Derrin Freshwater Institute and the state.”

“Fish, huh?” Natalie shook her head and laughed. “If you don’t mind my asking,

how the hell did you ever get interested in Þ sh?”

Dev wondered if it would make any sense if she told her the truth.

If she explained that she’d grown up a stone’s throw from where they had

collected the Þ rst sample. That the lake had been her Þ rst and, in the end, her

best friend. That for as long as she could remember, she’d never Þ t in

anywhere. Not at home, not at school. She’d spent hours on the water, in the

water, from the time she’d been old enough to walk.

She’d found peace in those quiet alone times as she’d lain on the dock in the hot

summer sun watching the small schools of Þ sh circle in the

• 19 •

RADCLY fFE

shallows. She had wondered then what it would be like to be part of a group

like that, moving so easily together, effortlessly attuned. To be accepted, to

belong. She didn’t know then. She still didn’t, but she didn’t wonder any longer.

She didn’t know Natalie well enough to share those secrets, and even if she

had, she wouldn’t have answered any differently. Those times were long past. “I

spent so much time in the water when I was a kid, I guess I thought I was part Þ

sh.”

“Well,” Natalie said, deciding to Þ re the Þ rst shot as she gave Devon a slow,

appreciative once-over, “you look to be all woman now.”

Dev took a quick read and added up the Þ ndings. The answer was pretty

clear. Natalie was very attractive, she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, and it was

forecast to be a long, hot summer. Dev leaned back with a smile. “Nice to know

you noticed.”

• 20 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

CHAPTER TWO

By the time the EMTs arrived, Leslie felt almost normal again.

Certainly no worse than she had on quite a few occasions in recent weeks.

She’d been working hard and sleeping even less than usual. It was nothing more

than that.

“Look, really,” she protested as a husky young blond with shaggy hair and a

deep tan, who might have been called a surfer dude in another time and place,

lifted her into a wheelchair with the help of his intensely serious female partner,

“I feel perfectly Þ ne now. Obviously I had a little dizzy spell, which has passed.

Please let me up.”

“Just try to relax, ma’am,” the brunette said mechanically as she slipped a sticky

EKG pad inside Leslie’s blouse and afÞ xed it gently to her upper breast.

Ma’am, Leslie thought with irrational temper. She has her hand inside my

blouse and she’s calling me ma’am. There was something terribly wrong with

this picture. This was not her. In a move that startled even herself, she slapped

the EMT’s hand away. With the practiced voice that was calculated to make

jurors sit up straight in their seats, she snapped, “I’m not going to the hospital.”

The one who’d ma’am’d her leaned down with a hand wrapped around either

arm of the wheelchair. She spoke quietly so no one else could hear. “It sucks to

have everyone all over you like this, I know. But your blood pressure’s still a

little bit low and your heart rate’s a tiny bit elevated. If you try to walk out of

here, I think you’re going to go down again. That will buy you a trip to the ICU.

Just let us take you to the emergency room where you can be checked out.”

Leslie studied the dark, deep eyes inches from her own. She

• 21 •

RADCLY fFE

hadn’t seen anyone look at her like that, with such compassion and

understanding, for…so long, she couldn’t remember. How was it that a stranger

could touch her so deeply and those who supposedly knew her intimately never

touched her at all? Truth be told, she did feel terrible.

“Just get me out of here quickly, please,” she whispered.

“You got it. I’m Amy, by the way.”

“You have beautiful eyes, Amy,” Leslie murmured as she suddenly drifted away.

v

The next time Leslie opened her eyes she was propped up into a semisitting

position on a narrow bed with a thin, hard mattress and covered by a stiff white

sheet that smelled of strong detergent. A sickly-green curtain, a shade darker

than the equally nauseating tiles on the walls, covered the doorway. The

overhead light was so bright she was forced to squint. She was ß eetingly very

happy she didn’t have a migraine. What she did have was a plethora of

intravenous lines and leads and other things she didn’t recognize connecting her

to an assortment of monitoring devices that ringed the bed. Surely whatever was

wrong with her didn’t warrant this much attention. She felt a frisson of anxiety

that she quickly squelched and fumbled around on the bed for a call button.

Annoyed when she found none, she considered shouting, but decided that

would only win her even more unwanted interest.

In search of the handle to lower the bed rail, she slid her hand along the outside

of the stretcher. She’d just located it when the curtain was twitched aside and a

smiling man in a white lab coat entered. The words Emergency Physician were

embroidered in red, slanting letters over his left breast pocket. Beneath that was

his name. Peter Erhart, M.D.

“I’m Dr. Erhart.” He stated the obvious and pressed Leslie’s hand by way of

greeting. “How are you feeling?”

“Other than a little tired, Þ ne. I hope you’re here to discharge me.”

The doctor pulled a stainless steel stool to the side of the stretcher and sat

down. When he crossed his arms on the top of the bed rail, he and Leslie were

nearly eye to eye. “We’d like to keep you overnight for observation.”

• 22 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

Leslie’s stomach tightened, but she knew from experience that nothing would

show on her face. Calmly, she asked, “Why is that?”

“Your EKG shows frequent runs of supraventricular tachycardia and occasional

short bursts of atrial ß utter accompanied by a precipitous drop in your blood

pressure.”

“Which is why I fainted.”

Dr. Erhart looked surprised. “I understand you’re an attorney. Do you handle

medical cases?”

“No, but my…an associate does. I understand what you’re saying.”

She’d discussed enough malpractice cases with Rachel to understand the

terminology. She wondered idly if anyone had called Rachel, and then realized

no one would have had any reason to. A few people in the ofÞ ce, including

Stephanie, were probably aware of her relationship with Rachel Hawthorne, but

it wasn’t as if they presented themselves as a couple. Which they weren’t. Not

technically. She realized her mind was wandering, something else that never

happened to her, and she forced herself to focus. “What’s causing it and what

needs to be done about it?”

Dr. Erhart smiled. “I wish I could answer both questions right now, but I can’t.

Any number of things could be causing the accelerated heart rate, including ß

uctuations in hormone levels, medications, drugs.”

When he let the last word linger in the air, Leslie narrowed her eyes. “I’m not on

any medication and I don’t take drugs of any kind. I don’t smoke and I drink in

moderation.”

“Your baseline blood pressure is also off the charts for someone your age. So it

might be something as simple as stress…perhaps something at work? Or at

home?”

“No. Neither.” Leslie made an impatient gesture, which was cut short by the taut

intravenous line tethering her to a nearby pole. “Look.

I understand the need to be thorough and—”

The ß uttering in her chest started at the same time as the monitor next to the

bed began to screech. She struggled to catch her breath and found she couldn’t.

She was aware of Dr. Erhart speaking into the intercom next to the door, and

after what seemed like an eternity, a woman in scrubs appeared and injected

something into Leslie’s IV line.

A minute later the monitor fell silent, and the wild churning in her chest subsided.

• 23 •

RADCLY fFE

“Jesus,” Leslie whispered, still short of breath. “What was that?”

“That was another run of very rapid tachycardia,” Dr. Erhart said solemnly. He

turned to the nurse. “Call admissions and tell them we’ll need a telemetry bed

for Ms. Harris.”

This time, Leslie didn’t argue. “I need to make some calls. Could someone see if

Stephanie Ackerman is here?”

As Leslie suspected, Stephanie had come to the hospital directly from the

courthouse. When she appeared, Leslie felt ridiculously comforted. “Thanks for

sticking around, Steph.”

“Hey,” Stephanie said softly. “Of course I would.” She glanced at the monitors

on either side of the bed and then back at Leslie. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, they’re just being careful. CYA.” Leslie trusted Stephanie, but she had no

intention of sharing the details. After all, it was all going to be straightened out in

a matter of a few hours. “By the time they Þ nish with all their tests, I’m

probably not going to get out of here until the morning. I’ll need you to check

with Bill and Þ nd out how the judge is going to rule on continuing the trial.”

Stephanie made notes on the rest of Leslie’s requests and promised to call her

that evening with any follow-up.

“I think that does it.” Leslie leaned back and closed her eyes, more tired than

she’d realized. “Thanks. I’ll call you when I get home in the morning.”

“Sure.” Stephanie hesitated. “Uh…anyone else you’d like me to call?”

Frowning, Leslie opened her eyes. “Did I forget something?”

“I meant personally.”

Leslie blushed. “Oh. I don’t know that that’s necessary. But thanks.”

“Sure.”

Feeling as if she should explain, Leslie added, “I’ll take care of those calls when

I get upstairs.”

“I understand. If you need anything, you know my number.”

“’Preciate it.” Leslie smiled goodbye, glad for the quiet and the chance to close

her eyes again.

When a cheerful middle-aged Asian man arrived to transport her to her room,

Leslie was surprised to discover that she’d slept for almost two hours. When

she was Þ nally settled and alone after repeating her medical history yet again to

the nurses and resident staff, she used the

• 24 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

bedside phone and asked the operator for an outside line. She wasn’t surprised

when the number she called rang to voicemail. “Rach, it’s me.

I know this is ridiculous, but I’m actually in…oh, I don’t know why I’m even

bothering you with this.” She contemplated hanging up and then Þ nished in a

rush. “I’m in the hospital. It’s nothing serious. Some little glitch in my hormones

or something. I’ll be released in the morning.

I know you’re wrapping up that big trial, so I’ll call you when I get home. Don’t

worry.”

As the sounds outside her room gradually quieted, Leslie lay awake staring at

the ceiling while reviewing her upcoming cases, prioritizing her work, and

rehearsing how she would explain away this event to her partners. Several times

she was aware of the ß uttering in her chest, which she now recognized as the

irregular heartbeat. She determined to ignore it, until just after midnight when the

frantic racing started and wouldn’t stop.

v

“My God, Leslie,” Rachel Hawthorne said, looking more aggravated than

concerned when she strode into Leslie’s room just after noon the next day.

“Why did you wait so damn long to tell me there was a problem with your going

home?”

“You didn’t need to rush over here,” Leslie said. “I just wanted you to know

that I hadn’t been released yet.”

Rachel had obviously come directly from court. Her immaculately cut slate gray

jacket and skirt hinted at her statuesque Þ gure without being suggestive. Her

lustrous copper hair ß amed around her shoulders, and her green eyes that could

look so warm and seductive during sex snapped with impatience now. Despite

Rachel’s annoyance, Leslie was glad to see her. Something as normal as

Rachel’s quicksilver temper made the situation feel normal, and the fear that had

been niggling at her all morning dissipated.

“Why are you still here?” Rachel glanced at her watch and leaned down to kiss

Leslie all in the same motion. “I’ve got twenty minutes, and then I need to be

back in court.”

“I seem to have this sensitive heart rate all of a sudden,” Leslie said lightly. “And

apparently my blood pressure problem is a little out of order.”

“Let’s cut to the chase, darling,” Rachel said, folding her arms and

• 25 •

RADCLY fFE

canting one hip in a strikingly feminine yet unmistakably aggressive pose.

“Details.”

Leslie sighed. “I had an episode of atrial ß utter in the middle of the night that

they weren’t able to control with medication. Finally at seven a.m. they

cardioverted me.”

For the Þ rst time, Rachel looked worried. “God. Why the hell didn’t you call

me?”

“Because I knew that you were in court this morning, and there was nothing you

could have done here. They sedated me, and it was over in a second. I didn’t

feel anything at all.” She smiled. “And I feel much better now. I’m just waiting

for another cardiogram to conÞ rm that the rhythm has been corrected, and then

I’m getting out of here.”

“I’m not going to be able to wait.” Rachel closed her eyes and rubbed the

bridge of her nose, sorting through alternatives. “Is it safe for you to take a

cab?”

“I’ll call a limo service.” Leslie took a deep breath. “That’s not what I needed to

talk to you about, Rach. I know this is a bad time, but there just didn’t seem to

be a good time.”

“What?” Rachel said sharply. “What else?”

“I’m going to take a few weeks off.” Leslie looked away, then into Rachel’s

eyes. “The doctors pretty much told me I have to. This stupid rhythm problem

can be controlled by medication, but I don’t seem to be one of the ones where

it’s easy. The episodes might recur for a while.

It’s sort of unpredictable.”

“So it could happen again,” Rachel said with understanding.

Leslie winced. “Yes.”

“Christ, Leslie. What a mess.”

“Believe me, I know.”

“Well, at least you’ve got plenty of vacation time stored up. I can’t remember

the last time either of us went anywhere.”

Neither could Leslie. In the nearly two years they’d been dating, or whatever it

was they’d been doing, they’d never gone anywhere together for more than a

long weekend. Even then, they both brought work and frequently spent hours in

phone consultation.

“What are you going to do?” Rachel asked curiously. The concept of days with

nothing to do was not only foreign to her, it was vaguely discomforting.

“It’s not exactly going to be a vacation. I talked to Rex Myers this morning,”

Leslie said, referring to the managing partner at the Þ rm.

• 26 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

At Rachel’s look of astonishment, Leslie held up a hand. “I had to tell him

something. I explained that I needed to cut back on my hours for a short time

because I just started a new medication that wasn’t agreeing with me. Which is

deÞ nitely true.” Leslie laughed shakily. “We’ve got a regional ofÞ ce in Albany,

which isn’t that far from my parents’ house in Bolton Landing. I’m going to stay

at the lake while this gets sorted out and work out of that ofÞ ce as much as I

can.”

“You’re going home home?” Rachel shook her head. “I thought you didn’t get

along with your parents. You haven’t been up there for one holiday since I’ve

known you.”

“It’s not that we don’t get along. We just don’t…always see eye to eye on

things.”

“I don’t get it. Why don’t you just stay here and work part time out of the main

ofÞ ce?”

It made sense. It made perfect sense. Leslie didn’t have words to explain how

frightened she’d been in the middle of the night when she couldn’t breathe, when

she’d felt as if her heart would pound its way out of her chest or simply stop

beating altogether. She wasn’t superstitious.

She didn’t believe in omens. But that morning, as they’d been injecting the drug

into her arm to put her to sleep while they administered an electric current strong

enough to completely inactivate her heart, her last thought had been that she

wanted to go home. She just wanted a few days to breathe free again. She

looked at Rachel and knew there was no way her totally focused, driven lover

would ever understand that. Rachel lived to work. So did Leslie. It was the

strongest bond they shared.

She couldn’t very well explain to Rachel what she didn’t understand herself.

“I don’t want to go into the ofÞ ce every day and have people look at me as if

there’s something wrong with me,” Leslie said, which was partially true. So

many half-truths. “I’ll get this straightened out while I’m up there and be done

with it.”

“I don’t know that I can get away, darling. You know what my calendar—”

“I don’t expect you to.” Leslie reached through the aluminum bars of the railing

for Rachel’s hand. Her skin was smooth and soft. “I’ll miss you if you can’t Þ

nd a way to come up, but I’ll understand.”

Rachel leaned over the railing and kissed Leslie quickly. “Good.

Call me when you get settled up there. I’ll see what I can do.”

• 27 •

RADCLY fFE

“Okay. You should go before you’re late.” Leslie watched Rachel walk out the

door, wondering when she would see her again. Rachel likely wouldn’t even

miss her, not when she was this tied up in a big case. With an increasing surge of

melancholy, Leslie admitted that she didn’t really mind.

• 28 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

CHAPTER THREE

Shortly after 6 a.m., Dev opened her eyes to sunshine and the unmistakable

sounds of morning in the mountains. Birdsong.

Wind rustling in the trees. A far-distant hum of an outboard motor. Her rented

cabin was the last in a row of ten similar rustic log cabins that were situated at Þ

fty-yard intervals within small clearings in the woods.

A meandering dirt path connected them to one another and to the main lodge at

Lakeview Cottages. Similar wooded trails led from each small front porch down

to the water and a sliver of sandy beach. She couldn’t see the other cabins,

most of which were still empty so early in the season, or the lodge where the

owners also lived, nearly a quarter of a mile away. The solitude was welcome,

and although meals were included in her weekly rent, she had yet to avail herself

of that amenity in the three days she’d been at Lakeview. She hadn’t quite

gotten over her uneasiness at Þ nding herself at the Harrises’.

When she’d called the park ranger headquarters a month before to explain who

she was and the work she’d be doing in the lake area that summer, Natalie had

extended the professional courtesy of arranging local accommodations for her.

Dev had been happy to have one fewer thing to do, her only stipulation being

that she wanted a private cabin that was as far from the popular tourist haunts as

possible. She hadn’t even considered that Natalie might reserve a place for her

at the Harrises’ secluded resort just north of Bolton Landing, and when she’d

found out, there hadn’t really been a good reason to refuse it. It was close to the

Institute’s labs, and she doubted that anyone would recognize her. No one had.

• 29 •

RADCLY fFE

Even so, when she’d arrived to check in, she couldn’t shake the disorienting

effect that seeing the place again produced. She hadn’t expected to be bothered

—it had all been over so long ago. Dead and buried and gone.

At the moment, though, lying naked beneath a soft ß oral print sheet that smelled

of wind and water, she was very glad to be there.

Turning on her side, she just enjoyed the beauty outside her windows.

She also reß ected on the question of why she was enjoying it alone.

When Natalie had casually asked her to dinner at the end of the workday the

night before, it had seemed natural to say yes. They’d worked well together all

day, collecting samples, planning when and where to take others, and

conversation had come easily.

Dinner hadn’t had the feel of a date, not quite. It had the feel of two women

who liked one another at Þ rst meeting, getting to know each other better. And

when they’d returned to the park ofÞ ce so that Dev could pick up her truck for

the drive back to her summer quarters and Natalie had casually kissed her good

night as they’d stood in the dark parking lot, that had felt natural too.

Recalling the kiss, Dev knew if she’d done any more than return it lightly and

then step away, they might be waking up together right now. She suspected that

would have been pleasant. It had been a long time since she’d met someone like

Natalie, someone who might offer uncomplicated but satisfying intimacy. It was

an unusual combination, and hard to Þ nd. Which was probably why she hadn’t

had sex in over a year. But there was no rush, and she might be wrong. Not

worth the risk.

Still, thinking about it would give her something to enjoy in the shower. Smiling,

she stood and stretched and headed to the small, neat bathroom to start her

day.

v

At 1:00 that afternoon, Dev pulled her black Chevy Colorado into the parking

lot at Lakeview, planning on a Þ fteen-minute stop to change clothes before

driving to a meeting in Troy. As she climbed down from the cab, she nodded to

Eileen Harris, who looked over from where she was leaning beneath the hood of

her dusty green Jeep Cherokee. Dev recognized it and Þ gured it had to be

twenty years old.

“Hey,” Dev said. “Problem?”

• 30 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

Eileen Harris, in her early Þ fties and still looking youthfully blond and Þ t in her

baggy jeans and well-worn blue cable-knit sweater, gave an exasperated sigh.

“The damn thing won’t start. Again.” She wiped sweat from her forehead with

the back of her hand and left a streak of grease behind. She looked even

younger then. “Paul has been promising to look at it, but you know how that

goes. He’s ferrying a group of campers out to the islands right now.”

Lake George Islands campsites, accessible only by boat, offered some of the

best recreational Þ shing, hiking, bird watching, sailing, and camping in upstate

New York. Not for the fainthearted, however, since everything had to be

packed in by water, and private arrangements needed to be made for trips back

to the mainland. If her husband had gone out with a group, he might not be back

for a while.

“I’d lend a hand,” Dev said, “but I don’t know as I’d be much help. Can I offer

you a lift somewhere instead?”

“Ordinarily it wouldn’t be such a problem,” Eileen said. “But I have to be at the

train station in Rensselaer this afternoon, and even if I reach Paul and get him

back here, and he can Þ x it, I don’t think I’ll make it in time.”

“I’m about to drive down to Troy for a short meeting. If you’ve got guests

coming in by train, I can pick them up and bring them back.”

The Rensselaer train station stop on the Amtrak line that ran from New York

City to Montréal was ten minutes from where she was going to be.

“I hate to ask you to do that. I imagine you must be busy.”

Dev sensed her hesitation and was embarrassed that Eileen Harris felt

uncomfortable accepting a simple favor from her. Eileen’s reserve was probably

due to the fact that Dev had avoided Eileen and her husband since her arrival.

Dev hoped she could make up for the rudeness now. “It’s right on my way.

Really.”

“Well,” Eileen said, clearly still torn. She glanced once at the truck, then smiled

gratefully at Dev. “That would be great. My daughter’s coming in from New

York City, and I hate for her to wait there or Þ nd some other way up.”

“Your daughter.” Dev heard her voice and it sounded normal, but she felt like

she was hearing it underwater.

“Yes. Leslie. She’s an attorney in Manhattan, and she called unexpectedly. Just

this morning. It’s been a while since she’s been here, and I…”

• 31 •

RADCLY fFE

Dev was trying to follow the slightly disjointed conversation but she didn’t seem

to be catching all the words. Leslie. Coming here.

She looked past Eileen down the grassy slope to the lake and the boathouse. It

looked exactly the same as it had Þ fteen years before. She could actually hear

the music.

The party at the Harrises’ boathouse was in full swing when Dev arrived

close to midnight. The parking lot was jammed with dusty pickup trucks, old

sedans, and even a few shiny new graduation cars here and there. She rode her

motorcycle onto the grass under some trees and sauntered down the slope

toward the music and the swell of voices.

Every teenager in the area would be there, including those who were only living

at the lake for the summer while they worked at the area restaurants and resorts.

It was the last big bash of the summer before half of the kids there left for

college.

Dev wouldn’t be leaving just yet. She’d missed the age cutoff for starting

kindergarten with most of the kids close to her age by a month, so she still had a

year before she graduated. She looked eighteen, although she had six months to

go, but she never got carded when she bought beer or tried to get into the

Painted Pony, a local drinking hangout.

The fake ID she’d gotten mail order from a place in New York City didn’t hurt,

either. Fortunately, there were so many kids in Lake George during the summer,

it was all the cops could do to keep the really young ones under control. She

never got stopped on her motorcycle, and no one bothered about what went on

at private parties.

Dev strode through the crowd that had spilled out onto the grass in front of the

boathouse, looking straight ahead and ignoring the few people who stared in her

direction. She knew she looked nothing like the pretty girls in their shorts and

pastel blouses or even the boys who stood with their arms around those same

girls, nuzzling their necks and casually brushing their Þ ngers under the curve of

their breasts, arrogant with their male privilege. Knowing she didn’t Þ t and

knowing why, Dev wore her tight jeans smeared with engine grease, her heavy

motorcycle boots, and her frayed white T-shirt with angry pride. Her hair was

shaggy and dark with sweat. She ignored even the few who greeted her; she

had only one thing on her mind.

The boathouse, extending out over the water on three sides, was as big as a

basketball court and sweltering, the air thick with sweat and smoke and the

sexual energy of a hundred teenagers in the last throes

• 32 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

of innocence. Huge speakers in the back corners blasted Aerosmith, and

writhing bodies Þ lled every inch of the room. Most of the lights were off and

the cavernous space was so dim she could barely make out anyone’s features

until she was almost in their face, but she knew she’d Þ nd her. She always did.

It was like they were connected. Except only she felt it.

She grabbed a beer from a row of coolers below one of the open windows,

popped the top, and guzzled half of it. It was her fourth in two hours, but she

didn’t feel it. The adrenaline rush of riding her bike at high speeds along the

curving roads bordering the lake had burned off a lot of the alcohol. She loved

the way the wind felt blasting against her face at sixty miles an hour, like another

body molded to hers. The rush of speed and the engine throbbing and the pulse

pulse pulse of the pressure against her body was enough to make her come

sometimes.

The pleasure was enough to make her forget for a little while that she was alone.

She drank the beer and tossed the can into the corner. Leslie was perched in

one of the open windows, her face turned toward the water, her hair blowing

ever so lightly in the breeze. Moonlight highlighted her slim form, the curve of her

breasts and the arch of her bent legs so beautiful it was like a pain in Dev’s

heart. On the far side of the room, Leslie’s boyfriend Mike was standing with a

group of boys shooting pool, his legs spread wide, posturing with the cue stick

angled against his crotch like a phallic extension.

Dev snagged two more beers and eased her way along the wall in the near dark

until she was next to Leslie at the window. She placed a cold, sweating beer can

against the outside of Leslie’s thigh and laughed softly when Leslie jumped with

a small sound of surprise.

“Want another beer?”

“Dev!” Leslie smiled and took the beer. “I thought you said you weren’t

coming.”

Dev shrugged and leaned her shoulder against the window frame.

The big rectangular window swung out on hinges and canted over the water, the

glass reß ecting the shine of moonlight on the black surface of the lake.

“Changed my mind.”

“Yeah?” Leslie sipped the Budweiser, trying not to grimace. It was the guys’

favorite, so that was what they had at the parties. “How come?”

“Just thought I’d hang out here for a while.”

• 33 •

RADCLY fFE

“I’m glad you came by.”

“You leaving this weekend?” Dev knew she was, but somehow she kept hoping

to hear Leslie say, No, Dev. I changed my mind. I don’t really want to go

three hundred miles away from home. From you.

But she wouldn’t, because that was just Dev’s dream. Not Leslie’s.

“Uh-huh. Sunday. My folks are driving me down.”

Dev thought she sounded just a little bit wistful, and that made the ache in her

belly worse somehow. She dared to touch Leslie’s bare knee ever so lightly.

Leslie’s skin, damp from the mist off the water, was cool against Dev’s hot Þ

ngertips. “You’ll be okay.”

“Oh, I know.” Leslie smiled brightly. “It’ll be great. I can’t wait.”

“So you’re still gonna be a landscape architect, huh?”

“Someday. You know, after college and everything.”

Dev nodded, although she really didn’t know much about how college worked.

She wasn’t really too interested, since she Þ gured she’d end up working in her

parents’ convenience store after high school.

They expected her to help out, save them the cost of hiring someone.

Her older brother had left home as soon as he could, refusing to be tied to the

drudgery that seemed to be their parents’ lives. So Dev worked, in his place,

after school and on weekends.

She didn’t care. She didn’t think about it much. When she looked into the

future, she could never see anything except more of the same.

Her. Alone.

“So when will you be back? You know, vacation or whatever,”

Dev asked.

Even in the moonlight, Leslie’s face was shadowed. “Thanksgiving, I guess. Not

that long.”

“No, I guess n—”

“Hey, Leslie!” One of Leslie’s girlfriends shouted above the din.

“Come on, come outside. We’re gonna smoke a joint.”

Dev knew the invitation didn’t include her. Her friendship with Leslie was

something that Leslie’s crowd just ignored, clearly unable to understand why

Leslie would give Dev the time of day. After all, Dev was a year behind them,

and if that weren’t enough to make her company less than desirable, she was

strange. Different. But for some reason, Leslie and she were always able to talk.

It had started by accident the year before when they’d shared a table during

study hall.

Leslie was having trouble with a math problem, and since it was the

• 34 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

one subject that Dev could pick up just by sitting in class without doing any

work at all, she’d shown Leslie how to set up the solution. The next day she

helped her again, and somehow they’d started talking about other things.

Everything, really.

Dev had never met anyone she could talk to so easily. Leslie always listened.

Always made her feel like what she had to say was important and interesting.

They never met outside of school, never visited each other’s homes. Never did

anything social together except sit for an hour every few days on the lawn

outside school or walk down to the lake, and talk. Except once. Just once,

Leslie had ridden on the back of Dev’s motorcycle, laughing and pressed up

against her with her arms around Dev’s waist. Dev had been nearly light-headed

from the sensation of Leslie’s breasts against her back. She cherished the

memory, revisiting it nearly nightly before she went to sleep, coming sometimes

while imagining Leslie’s arms around her.

“Go. That’s cool,” Dev said, sensing Leslie’s friend waiting impatiently. “I just

wanted to…” See you again. Tell you how hard it’s going to be when you

leave. How much I’m going to miss you. How empty I feel inside.

Maybe something showed in her face, because Leslie said, “You go ahead, Sue.

I’ll catch you in a little while.”

When Sue made an exasperated sound and melted into the crowd, Leslie took

Dev’s hand and jumped down from the windowsill. “Come on. Let’s go for a

walk.”

Leslie only touched her Þ ngers for a second, but Dev’s legs felt shaky. Mutely,

she followed, tied to Leslie by that invisible string she could always feel, tugging

her back to her even when she knew she should stay away.

“God, I feel so much better out here,” Leslie said as they walked along the

water’s edge, leaving the boathouse and the noise and the smoke behind. She

sat down on one of the park benches her parents had placed around the lake for

the guests and tilted her head back. “I wonder if the stars will look like this in the

city.”

Dev didn’t know. She’d never been to a big city. Her parents never took a

vacation, they never left the store in anyone else’s hands.

“Probably. I think they’re everywhere.”

Leslie turned her head on the bench and smiled at Dev. “Yeah, probably.”

Dev didn’t mean to kiss her. She didn’t even know she’d moved

• 35 •

RADCLY fFE

until her lips touched Leslie’s. She’d never imagined Leslie’s lips would be so

warm and soft. Dev slid trembling Þ ngers over Leslie’s throat, felt Leslie’s heart

racing just beneath her skin. Then Dev was suddenly aware of Leslie’s hand

stroking the back of her neck, of Leslie kissing her back, pushing against her so

that their breasts touched through the whisper-thin layers of their cotton T-shirts.

Leslie moaned softly and the dam inside Dev’s heart broke and everything she’d

been holding back forever spilled out.

“Oh, Les,” Dev whispered. She framed Leslie’s face with her hands, kissed her

again, angling her body onto Leslie so that their legs entwined. Leslie grasped

her waist, holding her close. Dev groaned.

“Les, I lo—”

“Jesus! Fuck!”

Someone grabbed Dev’s shoulder from behind and yanked her off Leslie,

throwing her to the ground hard enough to knock the wind from her. Stunned,

Dev gasped and fought to catch her breath. A foot drove into her side, and she

groaned and curled into a ball.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Leslie’s boyfriend Mike shouted.

Distantly, Dev heard Leslie screaming for Mike to stop. She didn’t care about

the pain in her side or the next blow that landed on her hip, or the next. Or the

next. Nothing that ever happened to her again could hurt as much as what she

heard Leslie shout.

Mike, it was just a joke! I was just fooling with her. She doesn’t mean

anything to me. She’s nobody!

Dev blinked in the bright sunlight and stared at Leslie’s mother.

“…can’t thank you enough,” Eileen said. “As long as you’re sure it’s no

trouble.”

“No,” Dev said, forcing a smile though her face felt numb. “No trouble at all.”

• 36 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

CHAPTER FOUR

Ten minutes before the Amtrak Adirondack was expected to arrive in

Rensselaer, Dev pulled into a parking slot opposite the metal stairs leading down

from the train tracks. She sat watching the platform, Þ ngers curled around the

steering wheel as if to ground herself Þ rmly in the present, wondering if she

would recognize the girl who had Þ lled her heart and dreams for so long, grown

into a woman now. Had she known it was Leslie arriving in need of a ride when

she’d talked with Eileen Harris, she wouldn’t have volunteered to pick her up.

She doubted it would be a comfortable ride back for either of them.

Even though her Þ rst thought had been of Leslie when she’d received the

memo outlining the details and location of her new assignment, she hadn’t

seriously expected to run into her over the summer. The last time she’d been in

the area—on a one-night stopover six years before to wish her parents well in

their move to a retirement community in Florida—she’d made careful inquiries

about Leslie Harris with some of the locals. The story had always been the

same.

Leslie was one of the young, ambitious up-and-comers who had left the

provincial village never to return, and no one could recall seeing her in years.

Like Dev, she had moved on.

Leslie’s mother had said she was an attorney in Manhattan.

Dev remembered all the hours Leslie had spent explaining to her about

landscape architecture and how she wanted to create outdoor environments

where people could live in harmony with nature. She was going to come back to

the lake area and open a practice. Maybe work with the park services. It

sounded inspiring and meaningful, and Dev had fallen a little bit more in love with

her every time they talked

• 37 •

RADCLY fFE

about it. She had had no such grand designs for her own life, but Leslie hadn’t

seemed to think less of her for it. When Dev had mumbled that she didn’t have

any plans, Leslie had just smiled and said there was plenty of time to decide.

Leslie had apparently made different choices after she’d left Bolton Landing for

Yale. Dev doubted she would recognize the idealistic young girl now. At any

rate, she would soon know, because a series of whistle blows alerted Dev to the

train arriving. A sudden case of nerves set her stomach jittering as she watched

the passengers exit the station.

She’d been wrong about not recognizing her. Leslie had changed, just as Dev

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

undeniably attractive in a rough, earthy kind of way.

But the last thing in the world she wanted was for Dev Weber to have the

slightest indication that she found her attractive.

Dev looked in Leslie’s direction for the Þ rst time, her expression one of mild

disbelief at Leslie’s easy dismissal of her accomplishments.

Dev’s glance drifted down, taking in Leslie’s long legs, sleek beneath her sheer

silk stockings, and the swell of her breasts beneath silk and lace. Leslie had

turned into the beautiful woman that the lovely teenager had foreshadowed.

Maybe it was the unexpected juxtaposition of the woman upon her memory of

the girl, because Dev ventured into territory she had never meant to revisit.

“What happened to landscape architecture?”

Taken by surprise at the question very few people in her life knew her well

enough to ask, Leslie laughed harshly. “I haven’t thought of that in ages. It was

just one of those things that kids think they want before they know anything

about life. Once I got to college, everything changed.”

No, Dev wanted to say, it changed long before that. But then she realized that

was just her truth, not Leslie’s.

“So you like what you’re doing?” Dev asked, hoping to Þ ll the time with safe

conversation until they reached the lake and could politely go their separate

ways once more.

“I don’t know that I’d say I like it,” Leslie said, “but it’s satisfying.”

She grinned. “I like winning cases. So what about you? Are you running the

store for your parents now?”

“No, they Þ nally sold the place and moved to Florida about six years ago.”

Leslie’s question brought home to Dev how little they knew of one another now.

There might have been a time when they’d understood each other without

words, but now there was nothing between them. “I’m working up at the lake

this summer, though. I’m a biologist.”

“You’re kidding,” Leslie said before she could catch herself.

“Jesus, I’m sorry. That was rude.”

Not insulted, Dev laughed as she exited onto Route 9 North, the twisting twolane

lake road that she once could have driven from memory. “No. I don’t

blame you. I’m sure it’s nothing anyone who knew me in high school would’ve

guessed I’d be doing.”

• 42 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

“I just never remember you being interested in that kind of thing.”

“I wasn’t.”

“So what caused the big switch?”

Dev swung into the driveway to Lakeview and parked in the lot beside Eileen

Harris’s Jeep. She shifted on the seat and met Leslie’s curious gaze. “After the

accident I couldn’t do much more than read, and studying kept my mind

occupied.”

Leslie paled at the unexpected reference to a time she assiduously avoided

thinking about. Ambushed by guilt and regret, she felt a sudden need for air. She

yanked the door handle up and stepped out in front of her childhood home. The

rambling, three-story white clapboard house with its wraparound porches and

gabled upper windows looked just the same as it always had. Her mother, also

seemingly unchanged in jeans and a sweater Leslie thought might once have

been hers, waved from the front porch. On the far side of the parking lot the

grassy slope led down to the boathouse. The boathouse. There were some

things she couldn’t forget, no matter how much she wanted to.

Leslie looked back into the truck. “I’m sorry. So sorry. I’d undo it all if I

could.”

As Dev watched Leslie walk quickly away from her and the painful past that

had suddenly resurfaced, she heard the words she’d never be able to forget.

She’s nothing to me. She’s nobody.

And still, even knowing she’d been wrong about everything, she’d never wanted

to change any of it. Dev climbed from the truck, pulled Leslie’s luggage from

behind the seat, and started toward the lodge.

Leslie’s parting words, in the past and the present, reminded her more

powerfully than any blow that she and Leslie had never shared the same dream.

It had all been in her mind. A Þ ction created from her own need and foolish

hopes.

Thankfully, those long-ago dreams had been put to rest, but she was still going

to need to Þ nd another place to stay. She had never expected that seeing Leslie

again would hurt quite so much.

• 43 •

• 44 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

CHAPTER FIVE

Leslie stopped a step below her mother and tried to decipher the expression in

her mother’s eyes. Despite the fact that it was only a three-hour trip, Leslie

hadn’t been home in over three years, and the last visit had been only for a few

hours one Christmas. She’d never had to lie about the reason for her absence.

She always had work to do, even if that was only a convenient excuse. There

was warmth in her mother’s eyes, but wariness too. After Leslie left for college

they’d lost the easy companionability they’d had when Leslie was a teenager.

No, Leslie reminded herself, after you decided to go to law school.

“Hi, Mom,” Leslie said.

Eileen wrapped her arms around Leslie’s shoulders and hugged her. “Hi, honey.

I’m sorry I couldn’t pick you up.”

Leslie felt the stiffness in her mother’s embrace and imagined that her own body

felt much the same. “That’s okay. I didn’t give you any notice, after all.”

“Well,” Eileen said, looking past Leslie down the gravel walk,

“I’m glad Dr. Weber was able to give you a ride.”

Leslie turned just as Dev reached her, Leslie’s briefcase under her arm and the

suitcase in her hand. “Dr. Weber?”

Dev shrugged, coloring faintly. “Not the regular kind.”

“You didn’t need to bring my luggage up,” Leslie said, reaching for the suitcase.

“No problem,” Dev replied, climbing the stairs. “Where do you want them?”

“Your old room’s available,” Leslie’s mother said, “if you want it.

• 45 •

RADCLY fFE

I don’t rent that one out unless I really need to, and the lodge isn’t full now.

You’d have plenty of privacy.”

Not if Rachel manages to come up, Leslie thought. There was no way she was

going to subject Rachel to her mother’s scrutiny or have sex in her childhood

bedroom. That wasn’t exactly the way she wanted to introduce her mother to

the idea that she had a girlfriend.

Plus, even if Rachel didn’t visit, she didn’t want to spend two weeks in the

constant company of her parents and be faced with the subtle disappointment in

their eyes. “I’d rather have one of the cabins. They’re not all full, are they?”

“Not yet, but we’ve got reservations—”

“Actually,” Dev said, wondering if the other two women had forgotten her

presence, “she can have mine. I…uh…should probably get a place closer to the

lab.”

Eileen look startled, and Leslie scrutinized Dev intently before saying, “Mom,

let’s settle the room situation later.”

“Of course. Let me double-check the registrations, and we can decide after

dinner. I’m sure I can work something out.” Eileen looked at Dev. “I hope you’ll

be able to join us tonight.”

“Thank you, but—” Dev said, scrambling for a polite way to decline when the

phone rang inside and Eileen turned away.

“Wonderful.” Eileen hurried inside, leaving Dev to stare after her.

Leslie lifted the suitcase Dev had deposited on the porch. “I’ll make your

excuses, if you want to pass on dinner.”

“I’m that easy to read, huh?”

“You might take a little bit of coaching before I’d put you on the witness stand.”

Leslie smiled softly. “Besides, your eyes always did give you away.”

“No, they didn’t,” Dev said quietly. “You were just always able to tell what I

was thinking. No one else could.”

When Leslie’s face lost all expression and she hastily glanced away, Dev knew

she had no good reason to put off sitting down to dinner with the Harrises. Until

now she’d avoided them because she didn’t want the subject of Leslie and their

shared past to come up. She hadn’t wanted to be reminded, and she hadn’t

wanted to talk about it.

But the past was standing right in front of her, and she couldn’t have stopped

thinking about Leslie now if she got into her truck and drove a thousand miles

away. What she needed was to understand that this

• 46 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

woman was not the girl she remembered, and whatever friendship they’d shared

had ended the night when everything in her life had changed. Maybe a casual

dinner where it would be apparent they had nothing in common any longer

would do the trick.

“Sorry,” Dev said.

“For what?” Leslie said, shifting her eyes away from the boathouse and back to

Dev.

“For bringing up old history. I’m just surprised to see you.”

“I won’t be staying long,” Leslie said abruptly, feeling inexplicably

claustrophobic. She was standing outside in the June afternoon sun, looking out

over a vista of forest and clear blue water that was still unspoiled by the

trappings of modern life. She couldn’t imagine a place where she might feel

more free, but instead she found herself trapped in memories she had no desire

to relive. “There’s no need for you to move out of your cabin. We’re not likely

to see each other. I’ll be working most of the time, and I imagine you’ll be off

doing whatever you do.”

Dr. Weber , her mother had said. Leslie could barely believe that this woman

was the angry, often sullen, teenager she remembered. Dev had never studied in

school, and her grades had shown it. Even though Dev had almost failed her

junior year, Leslie always knew she was smart. She could tell from the things

they talked about. Dev seemed to know something about almost everything, but

she never cared about doing well in school or whether other people approved of

her. That was one of the things Leslie always loved…

“I’ll stay in the lodge,” Leslie said.

“You ought to be able to stay wherever you want while you’re here,” Dev

pointed out reasonably. “It’s your home, after all.”

“No it isn’t.” Leslie shouldered her briefcase and started to add that she didn’t

care where she slept when she felt the ß uttering sensation well up in her chest.

The surge of panic that followed only made her heart pound faster. With a gasp,

she dropped her luggage and sat down quickly in the nearest porch chair.

“Les, are you okay?” Dev took the Þ nal two stairs to the porch in one long

stride. Leslie was very pale, but even more disconcerting, she looked frightened.

Dev knelt by her side. “Les?”

“Fine,” Leslie said with a wave of her hand. She felt just a little bit breathless,

but the ß uttering sensation was already starting to subside. “Hot. I should have

had something to drink on the train besides coffee.”

• 47 •

RADCLY fFE

“I’ll get you something to drink from inside.” Dev started to rise when Leslie

caught her arm.

“No, don’t. My mother…”

“I won’t tell her.” Dev, stiff with shock, stared at Leslie’s Þ ngers wrapped

around her wrist. It was odd, they were exactly as she remembered them,

incredibly soft and strong at the same time. Satin over steel. Her body

remembered every place that Leslie had ever touched, even casually, and she

shuddered at the explosion of sensation.

Gently, she drew her arm away. “I’ll tell your mother it’s for me. Pepsi, not

Coke, right?”

Leslie bit the inside of her lip. Two years together, and Rachel could never

remember that, but somehow, Dev had, even after all this time. She felt

dangerously close to tears, and barely recognized herself. Of course, she’d

hardly slept in two nights and what little rest she’d managed had been uneasy.

Part of her kept expecting to wake up breathless with that terrible pressure in

her chest. She nodded, because she needed a minute to settle herself and she

didn’t want to have Dev see her so shaken. Dev always could see too much.

“Thanks. Yes, Pepsi would be great.”

“No problem.” Dev put her hands in her pockets because she had the

overwhelming desire to touch Leslie on her shoulder, or her hair.

Somewhere, just to reassure her, or maybe herself, that everything was all right.

For a second, she’d thought that Leslie was going to faint, and she still didn’t

look quite right. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

Relieved to be alone, Leslie rested her head against the back of the white

wicker rocker and closed her eyes. She pressed her index Þ nger over the pulse

in her wrist. It seemed fast, but steady. She could breathe again. It was hot for

June. And, she had to admit, seeing Dev had thrown her. She’d known that

coming home was going to be difÞ cult to begin with, and now she couldn’t

remember why she’d ever thought it was a good idea at all.

Since she’d changed her mind about doing something environmentally related as

a career and gone into law instead, her relationship with her parents, especially

her mother, had been awkward.

Her parents were one step up from hippies—well, old hippies now—but she

could remember riding on her father’s shoulders during equal rights marches and

carrying signs at supermarkets to protest the treatment of migrant farm workers.

As a child she used to play on the rug in front

• 48 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

of the huge stone Þ replace, listening to her parents and their friends debate

everything from abortion rights to global warming. Her parents still grew their

own organic vegetables, and the only boats that put out from the boathouse at

Lakeview other than the outboard her father used to ferry campers to the islands

were sailboats or other non-motorized craft.

She was a disappointment to them, and she knew it.

“Here you go,” Dev said, squatting down again beside Leslie and handing her a

sweating glass of soda. “No ice and a straw.”

Dev didn’t say just the way you like it, but Leslie heard the words all the

same. She took the glass and managed to smile, although she wasn’t certain she

could take any more kindness. “Thanks.”

“How are you feeling?”

Leslie sipped the Pepsi, giving herself a few extra seconds to chase away the

disturbing disorientation that came over her every time she looked at Dev.

Forty-eight hours ago she had been immersed in another world, a world she had

chosen and in which she knew exactly who she was. She’d been in charge, in

control, sure of herself. She’d been…satisÞ ed. She’d also been certain that

was as close to happy as she could be.

“Les?” Dev stared at Leslie’s left hand, then gently cradled it in her palm. There

was no engagement ring, no wedding band, but that wasn’t what held her

attention now. She looked from the bruise surrounding the healing puncture site

to Leslie’s face. “What’s wrong, Les?”

“Nothing.” Leslie drew her hand back, closing her Þ ngers into a Þ st and

turning her hand away so that the IV site was no longer visible.

She’d forgotten that was there. There was another one on her right forearm, but

her jacket covered it.

Dev didn’t repeat the question, but Leslie could see it still swirling in her eyes.

When she’d Þ rst seen Dev at the train station, she hadn’t thought she would

recognize her if they’d passed on the street, but she realized now that she’d

been wrong. It was true that Dev had grown into a woman even more attractive

than she’d been as a teenager, but if Leslie had ever seen her eyes, she would

have known her anywhere.

Her eyes were the same, and Leslie hadn’t exaggerated when she’d said they

always gave Dev away. When she was angry those tiny gold ß ecks that Leslie

had always coveted disappeared and her irises darkened from hazel to gray.

When she was happy, they sparkled with

• 49 •

RADCLY fFE

a hint of green as pure as new spring grass. When she was worried, like now,

the colors swirled like shadowy eddies in the lake during a hard rain.

“Really. I’m just getting over a bug of some kind.” Without thinking, Leslie

rested a hand on Dev’s shoulder, surprised at the hard muscles beneath the

cotton shirt. They felt so different from Rachel’s Þ rmness or her own gymtoned

body. She considered herself strong, but what she sensed in Dev’s body

was power.

“There’s probably time for a nap before dinner,” Dev said, not completely sure

she believed Leslie’s story. But she had no right to question her either. She

eased back on her heels and breathed a little easier when Leslie removed her

hand. The physical contact made her uncomfortable. “Your mother said to tell

you she freed up cabin nine indeÞ nitely. I’ll take your luggage down.”

Leslie set her glass aside and stood. “I’ll get it. You’ve done enough this

afternoon. You don’t have to play bellboy as well.”

Dev grinned. “I did that for a while in college. It paid pretty well.”

“Where did you go?”

“Syracuse.”

Leslie smiled wanly. She had always planned to go to the College of Forestry at

Syracuse. She and Dev often talked about it when they sat together by the lake

after school. But when she’d been accepted at Yale, where she’d only applied

because her guidance counselors had insisted, she hadn’t been able to resist the

lure of attending an Ivy League school. And she admitted now, she’d been

eager to experience something bigger than her small-town life. There’d been

fewer than a hundred seniors in her graduating high school class. She’d known

them all since kindergarten. Everyone she knew in school looked the same,

thought the same, shared the same plans for the future. Except for Dev. Dev

was the only one who was exciting and different, and their friendship…well, that

was something that had always seemed apart from the rest of her life.

“Well, I’m sure you’ve got better things to do now than carry luggage.”

Dev shrugged and picked up the suitcase. There was no way she was going to

let Leslie carry it a quarter of a mile to the cabin. “You’re wearing heels, Les.”

• 50 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

Leslie made a face. “I’m used to dressing this way, Dev, and if I can handle a

sprint through JFK airport with a loaded briefcase and two suitcases, I can

handle a stroll through the woods.”

“Fine.” Dev handed her the briefcase but kept the suitcase herself.

“Here you go.”

“I don’t remember you being this stubborn,” Leslie complained, half annoyed

and half amused.

“I guess I’ve changed,” Dev said quietly.

Leslie sighed and slung the briefcase over her shoulder. “We both have.”

Dev smiled softly. “Come on. I’ll walk you home.”

• 51 •

• 52 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

CHAPTER SIX

Come on, let me walk you home. Standing outside the high school on a late

spring evening, Leslie regarded the ß at tire on her mountain bike with disgust.

She looked over her shoulder at Dev, who slouched against the base of a tall

maple with both their backpacks looped over one arm. She wore ripped jeans,

her motorcycle boots, of course, and the barest hint of a smile.

“You’d just better not laugh.” Leslie almost pouted but caught herself. Dev

would laugh then. “I can’t believe I don’t have a patch kit.”

“You don’t have a pump, either,” Dev pointed out. “So it wouldn’t do any good

to Þ x the leak.” She raised her eyebrows as she scanned Leslie’s pale green

slacks and low-heeled shoes. “And you’re not exactly dressed for doing bicycle

repairs.”

“Ha ha.” Leslie tugged on the sleeve of Dev’s faded blue T-shirt.

“You are. Don’t you have something in your motorcycle bag you can Þ x this

with?”

Dev laughed. “They’re not exactly the same kind of tires, Les.”

“I know that, Devon, ” Leslie said with a huff, but she was smiling.

She knew Dev would change the tire for her if she had the equipment, and

Leslie would probably let her, even though she could do it perfectly well herself.

Dev liked doing things for her. Carrying her backpack and schoolbooks when

they walked down to the lake. Fixing the lock on her locker when it kept

jamming and the maintenance man kept forgetting to replace it. Dev had even

shoveled the snow away from around the Jeep in the school parking lot one day

last winter when Leslie had driven her parents’ car to school and got snowed

under. Leslie could’ve

• 53 •

RADCLY fFE

done all those things, but she could tell that Dev wanted to do it. And she liked

seeing how happy it made Dev. It was weird, but it was nice too.

“So you know I don’t have anything that will work on a bicycle tire,” Dev said.

“We should get going. It’s going to get dark pretty soon.”

“You don’t have to come with me. You’ll just have to walk all the way back for

your motorcycle if you do.”

“I don’t mind.” Dev glanced across the deserted school parking lot. “It’s over a

mile to your house, Les. I’m not letting you push your bike all the way there in

the dark. Besides, you can’t carry your books and—”

“I know! Give me a ride home on your motorcycle.” Leslie grabbed Dev’s

hand. “We’ll leave the bike chained up here and tomorrow I’ll bring a patch kit

and a pump and you can Þ x it.”

For a minute, Leslie thought Dev was going to refuse. She had an odd look on

her face, almost as if she was afraid of something, and her hand shook. Dev

never let anything bother her. Leslie quirked her head. “Dev?”

“Sure. That’ll work. Come on.”

Leslie relocked her bike and followed Dev to her motorcycle.

After Dev secured their books in her saddlebags, Dev climbed on and held out

her hand to Leslie.

“Climb up behind me. Have you ever been on the back of a motorcycle

before?”

“No.”

“Just hold on to me and lean when I lean. Just stay tight to me, okay?”

“Okay. But let’s go for a ride around the lake before you take me home. Do

you have time?”

Dev hesitated again, then nodded. “Sure.”

Leslie straddled the motorcycle behind Dev. It was wider than she’d realized

and she had to lean forward against Dev’s back to keep her balance. When the

big engine roared to life, she wrapped both arms around Dev’s waist. Dev

jerked as if Leslie had surprised her.

“Is this right?” Leslie asked, her mouth close to Dev’s ear.

“Yeah. It’s great.” Dev glanced over her shoulder at Leslie, and her eyes

seemed impossibly dark. “You ready?”

• 54 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

Leslie nodded, feeling a tingling in her stomach as she leaned against Dev.

Nerves, she guessed. When Dev pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road,

the wind rushed around her so hard that she felt exposed to the world in an

exciting and unexpectedly scary way. She pressed even closer to Dev, amazed

at how strong Dev felt. Her waist was narrow and Þ rm, her back broader than

Leslie had expected and hard with muscle. Leslie rested her cheek between

Dev’s shoulder blades, letting their bodies move together, and felt completely

safe.

“Do you want me to take this suitcase inside?” Dev asked, stopping at the end

of the path to Leslie’s cabin.

“No, I can get it. Thanks.” Leslie took the luggage. “Do you know if there’s

Internet access in the cabins?”

Dev laughed. “Uh, Les? There isn’t even a phone.”

“Great,” Leslie sighed. “I thought by now they’d have done that, at least. I guess

I should be glad there’s electricity and ß ush toilets.”

“You’ve been living in the city too long. You’re getting soft.”

Leslie regarded Dev with indignation. “You obviously don’t know anything

about Manhattan.”

Dev grinned. “True.”

“Where are you living?”

“I’ve got a place up near the Finger Lakes. But I move around a lot for the job,

so half the year I’m practically itinerant.”

Leslie was curious about just what had Þ nally captured Dev’s interest, but it

was almost 6 p.m. and unless things had changed drastically, her mother would

have dinner ready for the family at seven thirty, right after she set out the buffet

for the guests. If she was going to shower and catch a few minutes’ sleep, she

needed to go inside. Plus, being around Dev seemed to bring up things she

hadn’t thought of in years. On top of her fatigue, the memories were starting to

make her feel as if she’d tripped into an alternate reality. What she needed was

to check her e-mail and call the ofÞ ce. Then she’d start feeling more like

herself.

“Well,” Leslie said. “Thanks again.”

“No problem.”

In a few seconds, Dev disappeared into the trees and Leslie was alone. She

carried her bags into the small, plain pine cabin and looked around. It was just

as she remembered from her days of cleaning

• 55 •

RADCLY fFE

the units on weekends and during summers. One big room with a kitchenette

against the rear wall and a bedroom partitioned off to one side. The tiny

bathroom adjoined the bedroom, also in the rear. There was a Þ replace on the

left wall as she entered and a sofa ß anked by chunky end tables facing it. Two

large front windows overlooked the porch and the clearing and the path that led

down to the lake.

Leslie put her briefcase on the coffee table in front of the sofa and dragged her

luggage into the bedroom. The bed was somewhere between a single and a

double in size, neatly made up with a chenille bedspread, the likes of which she

hadn’t seen since she’d been a teenager.

She kicked off her shoes, draped her blazer over the back of a chair, and slid

off her silk shell. The skirt went next and then her stockings. She stretched out

on the bed in her bra and panties and closed her eyes. As she drifted off, she

was distantly aware of a tingling in her stomach and the sensation of her breasts

pressed against a Þ rm body, the muscles rippling against her nipples.

v

Dev settled into a wooden deck chair on the front porch of her cabin with her

laptop, intending to enter data while she still had some daylight left. She and

Natalie had collected a fair number of samples the previous day and that

morning. She worked a few minutes, then glanced to her left, squinting to see

through the trees to the neighboring cabin. It was still impossible to believe that

Leslie was over there right now.

Dev hoped she was taking a nap. Up close, she’d realized that Leslie was

unhealthily thin, with tension etched into the tight lines around her eyes and

mouth, and an aura of fragility surrounded her that seemed totally foreign. Leslie

had always been feminine, that was true. Dev laughed. She actually used to think

of her as girlie, in a really nice kind of way, but she’d also been athletic and Þ t.

Leslie was a terriÞ c swimmer, far more ß uid in the water than Dev, who

tended to power through rather than work with the waves. When they’d run into

each other at the public beach, Leslie would almost always beat her when

they’d race for the dock that ß oated a hundred yards offshore.

Leslie would pull herself up onto the wooden platform, laughing as she looked

down at Dev, the sun and water gleaming on her smooth, tanned ß esh.

• 56 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

“Jesus, let it go,” Dev muttered when she felt the old familiar ache of longing.

“You were kids.”

“They say it’s dangerous to live alone in the woods,” Natalie said, standing at

the end of the path to Dev’s cabin with her hands on her hips and a big grin. “I

guess they’re right, because you’ve only been here a couple of days and already

you’re talking to yourself.”

“Hey,” Dev said, quickly closing her spreadsheet and powering down the

computer. When she glanced at her watch she realized she’d been daydreaming

for the better part of an hour. It was already after seven. Natalie wore low-cut

jeans, a short-sleeved red blouse with several buttons open at the top, and

sandals. Her dark hair, which she kept tied up when in uniform, was loose and

longer than Dev had thought. She looked…pretty. Very pretty. “I hope you

keep that a secret.

I swear I’m harmless.”

“I’m not sure I believe that,” Natalie said with a ß irtatious smile.

“But I promise not to tell anyone about your private vices.”

Dev grinned and gave a little bow. “Thank you.”

“Look, I hope you don’t mind, I stopped by to see if you wanted to get

something to eat, and Mrs. Harris told me which cabin was yours.

Am I interrupting your work?”

“No, I was just inputting some data. Hold on a minute.” She stepped back

inside and put her computer on the end table. When she returned to the porch,

Natalie was waiting for her, her back against one of the posts, the soft evening

sunlight slanting across her face. At this distance, Dev saw that she’d applied a

light touch of makeup. And she smelled wonderful. “I appreciate the dinner

invite, but I told Mrs.

Harris I’d have dinner at the lodge tonight. I’ve been here almost a week and I

haven’t yet, so I hate to back out. I’m really sorry.”

Natalie shook her head. “That’s okay. I just took a chance that you might be

free. Some other night?”

“Absolutely. Come on, I’ll walk you back to the lodge.” As they strolled down

the path, Dev said, “I want to spend a few days out on the islands collecting

samples at eight-hour intervals. Do you have camping gear I can borrow?”

“Sure. I’ll take care of getting the permits.”

“Can you try to keep a few campsites right next to me empty?”

Natalie nodded. “It’s still early in the season, so that won’t be a problem. In

fact, depending on where you go, you may be the only one on the island.”

• 57 •

RADCLY fFE

“That’s great.”

“When are you going?”

“Actually, I’d like to go next week to collect the Þ rst set of samples and then

again at least once later in the summer.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Great, I’ll give you a list—” Dev broke off as Leslie came down the path from

her cabin. She saw Leslie’s eyes go from her to Natalie and register surprise

before Leslie’s expression quickly became unreadable. “Hi, Les.”

“Hello.”

Natalie smiled and gave a half wave. “Evening.”

“Leslie, this is Natalie Evans. She’s a park ranger. Natalie, Leslie Harris.”

Natalie extended her hand. “I’d guess you’re Eileen’s daughter.

You look like her.”

“So I’ve been told. Nice to meet you.”

The three continued toward the lodge in silence, Leslie quickening her pace so

that by the time they neared the lodge, she was well ahead, leaving Natalie and

Dev alone.

“Was it something I said?” Natalie asked.

Dev stared after Leslie, trying to decipher her attitude. She seemed angry, but

Dev had no idea why. “I don’t think so. At any rate, I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Well, I don’t want to keep you from dinner, Dev,” Natalie said when they

stopped at the foot of the walkway to the house. “How about I swing by and

pick you up in the morning. Say seven o’clock?”

“That sounds Þ ne. Sorry about dinner.”

Natalie rested her hand on Dev’s shoulder and stood on tiptoe to kiss her

cheek. Her voice was low, throaty, when she said, “I’ll take a rain check.”

“Deal.”

Dev waved goodbye as Natalie crossed the parking lot and climbed into her

SUV, then turned toward the house. She was surprised to see Leslie standing

on the porch. She hadn’t noticed her before and wondered if she’d been there

the entire time.

“Your friend was welcome to stay,” Leslie said. More than just friend, it looks

like.

Dev joined Leslie. “Thanks, that’s nice of you. Maybe some other time, then.”

• 58 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

“My parents are big fans of all the park employees.” Leslie turned abruptly and

walked into the house, her words trailing behind her. “I’m sure they’d love her.”

Leslie crossed through the entryway that opened into an L-shaped room with

the great room off to the right and the dining room ahead. A buffet was set out

on several tables along the far wall. She nodded to the guests sitting at the small

square tables scattered through the room before pushing through the swinging

doors at the rear into the kitchen.

Beyond the cooking and prep area, an archway led to a combination

sitting/dining room on the adjacent screened-in back porch. That was where

she’d always taken her meals with her family. Her mother was at the stove now,

stirring something that smelled wonderful.

“Hi, sweetie,” Eileen said, glancing over her shoulder.

“Is Daddy home?” Leslie asked.

“Down at the boat dock. He’ll be up in a few minutes.”

“Is there any wine?”

“I just opened some. White okay?”

“Yes, thanks.”

Eileen smiled as Dev entered the kitchen. “Hi. Just make yourself comfortable

out on the porch. Something to drink?”

“Whatever everyone else is having. Can I do anything?”

“Yes,” Eileen said as she handed Dev and Leslie each a glass of wine. “Keep

Leslie company while I Þ nish in here.”

Leslie and Dev sat in two wicker porch chairs with ß oral print cushions and

watched the sun go down over the lake. Dev brushed her hand over the fabric,

thinking how some things never changed. Her parents had had the same chairs

on their small back porch behind the store. They’d had a small bit of land

running down to the lake too, and that was where she’d spent most of her time,

reading or daydreaming on the rickety, narrow dock.

“What is it exactly that you do, Dev,” Leslie asked, breaking the silence.

“My original focus was population dynamics among freshwater Þ sh.” She

grinned when Leslie’s eyebrows rose. “I know. Sounds sort of bizarre, doesn’t

it?”

“Just a little.” Leslie laughed. “I take it that led to other things.”

“Believe it or not, it has some practical application. I study the effects of

environmental pollutants on freshwater marine life. Mostly the Þ sh, but also the

other water life as well.”

• 59 •

RADCLY fFE

Leslie felt herself slide into that place of perfect emotional control where nothing

showed on the outside. She couldn’t remember when she’d learned to do that,

but it was one of the big reasons she’d advanced so quickly in the law. No

matter what she was feeling, no matter how unexpected the turn of events,

nothing in her expression or her tone of voice or her body posture ever gave her

away. “So you work for the state? Is that how you know the park ranger?”

“No, I’m a private consultant.” Dev stretched, enjoying the wine and the warmth

and Leslie’s company. “Right now, I’m at the Derrin Freshwater Institute in

Bolton in a short-term research position. But I do a lot of work with the

Department of Environmental Conservation when there are concerns about

industrial contamination. That sort of thing.”

“I see.”

Dev heard the chill in Leslie’s voice. “What?” Half joking, she said, “Are you

opposed to protecting the environment?”

“No,” Leslie said carefully, “I’m primarily opposed to the government forcing

unnecessary regulations with unproven results on private industry.”

“The government forcing…” Dev set her glass aside and regarded Leslie

intently. “What kind of law do you practice, Les?”

“I defend corporate clients, mostly.”

Dev was aware that Eileen had joined them, standing quietly off to one side of

the room. The tension had ratcheted up until it was visible in the air. “Like the

kind that violate EPA regulations.”

“Yes,” Leslie said, standing, “on occasion.” She smiled thinly at her mother.

“I’m going to walk down to the lake and tell Dad it’s time for dinner.”

Dev rose as well, watching Leslie go, her wine forgotten. She was trying to

come to terms with the fact that the young woman she had loved had turned out

to be someone she didn’t know at all.

“Have you and Leslie met before?” Eileen asked. “Before today, I mean.”

“No,” Dev said, then caught herself. This woman was a stranger to her, despite

their past. “We knew each other in high school. But things were different then.”

So very very different.

• 60 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

CHAPTER SEVEN

Naked on top of the sheets, Dev turned onto her back and stared at the ceiling.

Though the windows were open, there was very little breeze and the room was

warm. She couldn’t sleep, but it wasn’t because of the heat. She kept replaying

the events of the day. She’d picked up Leslie at the train station less than ten

hours ago, and now she couldn’t stop thinking about things she had assiduously

avoided recalling for Þ fteen years. Memories were deceptive, she knew that.

The sun always shone brighter, the water was always bluer, the pleasure always

so much more poignant when viewed from afar. But even the ache of betrayal

and abandonment had not tarnished the simple truth of what she’d felt, and what

she’d tried so hard to forget.

The room was suddenly too small to contain the images that assaulted her.

Leslie sitting on the bank of the lake beneath fresh spring pines, her cheek

resting on the top of her bent knees, her face soft as she conÞ ded her dreams.

Leslie curled up beside her on a bench in the park, listening intently as Dev told

her about a book she’d read or how she planned to dress out her motorcycle as

soon as she had the money. Leslie laughing and nudging her shoulder, trying to

get Dev to crack a smile when she was pretending to be cool. Leslie that last

night, reaching for her, moaning into her mouth, burning her alive with kisses.

“Christ,” Dev muttered, jumping from bed. She couldn’t believe that a kiss

she’d shared with a teenager could arouse her now, but it did.

She was wet and throbbing and seconds away from reaching down for relief.

Somehow, the idea of climaxing to the image of a woman, no, a girl, who no

longer existed seemed wrong.

• 61 •

RADCLY fFE

She fumbled in the dark for jeans and a T-shirt and pulled them on without

bothering to Þ nd underwear. She stepped into the boots she’d left by the door

and started down the path to the lake with the moonlight as her guide. The water

was black as it always was at night, an onyx surface that glistened beneath a sky

gleaming with stars. The water lapped gently inches from her feet, a soothing

sound like the murmur of lovers in the dark. Dev took a deep breath and

smelled pine sap and rich earth.

The tension in her chest and groin began to ease. She remembered who she

was, where she was, and she remembered, too, how that long-ago kiss had

ended. The phantom passion, like the taunting memory of a lost limb, might

refuse to die, but she did not need to breathe life into it.

She took another deep breath and turned to go back to the cabin.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a ß icker of light from a hundred feet

away. The lake curved inward to form a tiny bay just below the lodge, and the

boathouse, almost as large as the lodge itself, extended out into the water. Dev

stared, wondering if the light she’d seen had just been moonlight glinting off the

water, but then she saw it again, shining for an instant through one of the

windows in the center of the building.

It was probably one of the guests, suffering from insomnia like herself, or a pair

of lovers looking for a private place to share their passion. But as she watched

the light glimmer in one window and then the next, she started walking toward it.

The air was still and quiet, unlike the last time she’d approached the boathouse,

and when she stepped inside, the music played only in her memory. Still, the

shadows undulated as if those long-ago dancers had left their energy and their

desires behind. As on that last night, she had only one destination. When she

reached the far end of the room, she wasn’t surprised to see Leslie perched on

the windowsill, her head tilted back and her eyes closed. The wash of moonlight

erased the years from her face, and Dev gasped as the old familiar connection

punched through her.

Leslie turned her head and regarded the dim Þ gure standing by her side. “Hello,

Dev.”

“Hi, Les,” Dev said, her throat raspy. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“No. You?”

• 62 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

Dev shook her head.

“I’m sorry about dinner,” Leslie said.

“What do you mean?” Dev leaned her shoulder against the window frame

opposite Leslie. A few inches of hot summer air and a heart full of broken

dreams separated them.

“It couldn’t have been pleasant for you trying to eat with all that tension in the

room.” Leslie shrugged. “I’d forgotten why I don’t visit very often. My parents

don’t approve of me.”

“I got the impression they didn’t approve of your job,” Dev said, recalling just

how carefully Leslie and her parents had tiptoed around anything that broached

upon Leslie’s life in Manhattan or her career.

Instead, Eileen and Paul Harris, a tall, thin quiet man, had questioned Dev with

enthusiasm about the Institute and her work for the Department of

Environmental Conservation.

“Is there a difference?” Leslie couldn’t quite keep the bitterness from her voice.

“After all, we are what we do.”

“Why do you do it?” Dev asked mildly.

“Because I’m good at it.”

Dev laughed. “I bet. But, I mean…what made you decide to do it?

What made you change your plans?”

Leslie hesitated, sorting through any number of answers that would sufÞ ce

while revealing nothing personal. Personal revelation was not something she did

lightly. If she was honest, it wasn’t something she did at all. And she was very

good at deß ecting conversations that verged too close to the intimate. “You Þ

rst.”

“Me? All right.” Dev paused, giving the issue serious thought.

“I’ve always liked Þ sh.”

“That’s not an answer,” Leslie said, but she couldn’t help smiling.

“Actually, it’s the truth. When I Þ nally started studying, I realized how much

there was to learn about the things I saw every day. The lake is part of me, I

guess.” Dev sighed. “And the Þ sh, well, besides creating interesting social

orders, they’re beautiful.”

“You make it sound romantic,” Leslie said seriously.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Dev said, thinking that romance was something she’d

changed her mind about since last they’d met. “Your turn.”

“Remember how I used to hate math?”

• 63 •

RADCLY fFE

Dev nearly gasped at the unexpected twist of pain. She wondered how Leslie

imagined she could forget anything that had happened between them. “Yeah. I

remember.”

“I thought it was because I didn’t have a logical mind. You know, back then I

wanted to work outside, tend the land, that kind of thing.

That was probably me channeling my parents’ dreams.” Leslie swiveled on the

wide window ledge and swung her legs outside the building to dangle in the

moonlight. “Once I got away, got exposed to other things, I discovered that I

was actually very good at dissecting complex issues.

I also have a knack for Þ nding ß aws in arguments.”

“So you got interested in the law.” Dev spoke carefully, recalling how defensive

Leslie had seemed earlier when the subject of her work had come up. “So what

about the rest of it? Why the kind of law that you practice?”

“I like competition.” Leslie glanced at Dev. “It’s just a big chess game.”

“You were always good at that, but…defending big businesses that operate

with no concern for what they might be doing to anyone else? Jesus, Les.”

“The simple answer is that everyone is entitled to the best defense possible,

including corporations.” Leslie slid off the windowsill. “But it’s not that simple,

Dev. Sure, some of the regulations are reasonable, even if they are almost

prohibitively costly to implement. But even my parents, if they just thought about

it, would admit that government intrusion in the private sector isn’t always the

answer. In fact, sometimes it just creates more problems.”

Dev caught Leslie’s arm as she turned her back to walk away.

“Look, I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Leslie snapped. “Clearly, you and my parents are on the side of the

angels. And I’ve sided with the devil.”

“It’s not my place to judge you. Or theirs either.”

“Well, thank you very much for that.”

Dev couldn’t see Leslie’s face in the shadows, but she could feel her shaking.

Underneath the anger was pain, and Dev felt it as if it were her own. She slid her

hand along Leslie’s forearm until she reached her hand and squeezed Leslie’s Þ

ngers before letting go. “I didn’t mean to bring up a sensitive subject.”

“Forget it.” Leslie stepped close to the window again and curled

• 64 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

her Þ ngers around the sill. She leaned out and let the breeze cool the heat of

anger from her face. “What are you doing out here anyway?”

“I saw the light. What are you doing down here?”

“Trying to Þ gure out why the hell I came home.”

A hint of Leslie’s perfume drifted to Dev. She had no idea what it was, but it

smelled like Leslie. Sharp and hot, with a hint of sadness just beneath the

surface. “Your mother said your visit was sudden. Does it have something to do

with that intravenous line and the ß u?”

Leslie’s head whipped around as she stared at Dev. “You haven’t changed.

You always did see everything.”

“I’ve changed, Les. But it didn’t take any great deductive skill to Þ gure out

something’s wrong. You almost fainted on the porch this afternoon.” Dev lifted

Leslie’s hand and unerringly brushed her thumb over the exact spot where the

intravenous line had been. “You got this in a hospital.”

Leslie was stunned by how much Dev had noticed. She was even more shocked

to Þ nd herself telling Dev the whole story. “So,” she said when she’d Þ nished,

“I didn’t really think things through very well. I knew if I stayed in the city I’d

end up going into the ofÞ ce, and then I’d have to make excuses about cutting

back for a while. I suppose I just wanted to preserve my privacy.”

“Thanks for telling me,” Dev said.

“You could always get me to tell you everything.”

“No, not everything.” Dev realized she was still holding Leslie’s hand and that

she had the unbearable desire to brush her lips over the bruise. She wanted to

make that visible sign of Leslie’s frailty disappear.

She wanted to erase the tension in Leslie’s face, wipe out the strain in her voice.

And because she wanted to touch her so badly, she gently released her hand.

“Did you tell your parents?”

“No. They’d only worry. Besides, it’s not a big deal.”

“When are you going to get the tests?”

“I don’t know, Dev,” Leslie said impatiently. “I have to call and schedule them.”

The whole thing was becoming more absurd by the moment. Running home, as

if there were something here she needed.

Telling Dev, a stranger, the details of this ridiculous illness, when she hadn’t even

explained it all to her lover. Rachel. God, she hadn’t even thought to call her and

tell her she’d arrived. Her whole life was badly out of focus. “I need some air.

I’m going for a walk.”

• 65 •

RADCLY fFE

“Les, it’s one o’clock in the morning.”

“We’re out in the middle of nowhere, Devon. It’s perfectly safe.”

“You don’t know that.” Dev followed Leslie outside. “You have a ß ashlight,

don’t you? That’s what I saw blinking through the window.

You’ll need it in the woods.”

“Yes, but I don’t want every moth and mosquito in Þ ve miles to hone in on me.

I can see well enough to walk back to the cabin along the lake. That’s the way I

came.”

Unasked, Dev fell into step beside her as Leslie started along the shore path.

After a moment, she said, “Promise you’ll call about the tests tomorrow.”

“I’m going into our Albany ofÞ ce tomorrow. Once I work out my schedule, I’ll

call about the damn tests.”

“I thought you were supposed to be taking it easy. Isn’t that why you’re here?”

Leslie laughed shortly. “Believe me, anything I might be doing up here will be a

vacation.”

“Why don’t you come out with me instead,” Dev said on impulse.

“I can guarantee it will be relaxing.”

“You want me to help you collect Þ sh?” Leslie stopped dead and ß icked her ß

ashlight into Dev’s face. At Dev’s protest, she switched it off. “I just wanted to

make sure you didn’t look as completely crazy as you sound.”

“Why not? You’re supposed to cut down on stress, right? So come out on the

lake and get some sun. That’ll probably be just what you need to kick this

thing.”

Leslie had to agree that made some sense. And oddly enough, she didn’t really

want to go into the ofÞ ce the next day. Being home, seeing Dev again, had

brought back vivid images of all the things she’d loved about the lake in the

summer. The lush, wild beauty of the mountains and the clear, brisk promise of

the lake under the summer sun had always called to her.

“Besides,” Dev went on, “I’m not collecting Þ sh. I’m collecting water, soil, and

organic samples. Natalie’s been helping with the records when she can get free,

but she’s got her own work to do. You can keep notes.”

“Now I know you’re nuts. My secretarial skills are somewhat lacking,” Leslie

said dryly.

• 66 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

“That’s okay,” Dev said, feeling unaccountably lighthearted as they jested like

old times. “I’ll help you get the hang of it.”

“Oh, thanks.” Leslie was tempted. One day off wouldn’t seriously cut into her

productivity. Natalie’s been helping out…

“All right. Tomorrow?”

“I don’t suppose early hours bother you, do they?”

Leslie snorted.

“How about seven, then? I’ll call Natalie in the morning and tell her she’s got a

reprieve.”

“Come to breakfast at six thirty,” Leslie said, wondering if Natalie would

consider not spending the day with Dev any kind of bonus.

“Okay.”

They’d reached the juncture of the shore path and the wooded trail that led up

to the cabins. Leslie switched on her ß ashlight, but the batteries she’d found in

the kitchen drawer must have been old, because the cone of light was very faint.

She reached out in the darkness and found Dev’s hand. With their shoulders

and arms lightly touching, they climbed up through the woods.

“Should I walk you down? It’s pretty dark,” Leslie said at the turnoff to her

cabin.

“I’m okay. There’s plenty of moon.”

Leslie hesitated, reluctant to say good night. Dev’s hand was warm in hers and

the sound of her voice in the dark was like a soft caress.

She tightened inside and heat ß ared for an instant before she ruthlessly forced it

down. God, what was she thinking? But that was just it, she wasn’t thinking at

all, and her body was clearly in some kind of crazy rebellion. She spoke

carefully, wanting to be certain that her voice was steady.

“I’ll see you in the morning, then.”

“Good night, Les.” Dev released Leslie’s hand and made herself step away. She

didn’t want to move. The palm of her hand where Leslie had just touched her

felt naked, exposed, as if the skin were missing.

She took another step and then another and when she reached the trees that

separated the clearings around their cabins, she waited until she heard Leslie’s

footsteps on the porch and the sound of the door opening and closing quietly.

“Sweet dreams,” she whispered into the night.

Then she slowly made her way back to her cabin, stripped off her

• 67 •

RADCLY fFE

clothes, and lay down on the bed. The room had cooled, but her body was too

warm even for the light cotton sheet. She closed her eyes and prayed she

wouldn’t dream.

Fifty yards away, Leslie sat on the side of her bed, still fully dressed, and

pressed Rachel’s number on the speed dial. She wasn’t surprised when her call

was directed to voicemail. She closed her eyes and tried to conjure Rachel’s

face. It was difÞ cult.

“Rach, hi, it’s me. I’m here.” She hesitated, trying to remember Rachel’s

schedule. Was it really just a day since they’d talked?

“I’m sure you nailed the closing. Have a drink for me to celebrate.”

She paused again, aware of the silence stretching between them, far deeper than

just the seconds ticking away. She took a breath. “I miss you.”

She wanted that to be true and hoped that the reason it felt like a lie was just

because she was so damn tired. Without even bothering to undress, she kicked

off her shoes and curled up on the bed. When she closed her eyes, she heard

the echo of long-ago laughter on the wind.

• 68 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

CHAPTER EIGHT

You’re up early,” Eileen Harris said when Leslie poked her head into the

kitchen a little after six the next morning.

“Not really,” Leslie said. “I’m usually in the ofÞ ce by now. Do I smell coffee?”

Eileen pulled a tray of scones from the oven and inclined her head toward an

insulated carafe on a nearby counter. “If you wouldn’t mind, carry that out into

the dining room for the guests. I’ll put on another pot for us.”

“Sure. Thanks.”

When Leslie returned, her mother slid a plate with a steaming scone onto the

scarred wooden kitchen table and handed her a mug of coffee. “Still like

blueberry?”

“Yes,” Leslie said, settling at the table with her coffee. She broke open the

pastry and reached for the butter. “But they never taste the same from the

bakery.”

Eileen smiled. “I thought you might sleep in, seeing how you’re on vacation.

Going Þ shing? Your dad’s down at the dock.”

“I am, but not that kind. I’m going out with Dev while she collects some

samples.”

“Really,” Eileen said carefully. “You two seem to have hit it off. I didn’t realize

you knew each other.”

“She was a year behind me in school. Her parents ran the convenience store in

Diamond Point.”

“Weber’s. Of course, I remember them, but for some reason, I don’t remember

her. I thought I knew all your friends.”

“She wasn’t part of that crowd,” Leslie said.

• 69 •

RADCLY fFE

“We’re just going to hang out down at the boathouse,” Leslie said, watching

Dev stow her gear in her motorcycle bag. The sounds of car engines revving and

friends shouting to one another surrounded them.

“Just come for a while. It’s just girls.”

Dev shook her head. “I don’t think so, Les. I should get home. My parents will

probably need me in the store.”

“It’s still early. Just for an hour,” Leslie wheedled. For some reason, she really

wanted Dev to come to her house after school. It was hard to duck her other

friends all the time, and sometimes days would go by before she could see Dev

alone for a walk or for a few private minutes just to talk. In a couple of weeks,

she’d be graduating and summer would start. Dev would be working in the store

more and she’d be helping her parents at the lodge. It might be even harder to

see her then. If Dev would only socialize with the rest of Leslie’s friends, Leslie

could see her more. She missed her when she didn’t see her.

“Please, Dev.”

“Come on, Les. You’ll probably all be sitting around talking about makeup or

guys.”

“I promise I won’t mention Mike once within your hearing.” When Dev’s

expression tightened and she looked away, Leslie felt a surge of alarm. Dev was

so sensitive, and it was so hard to tell sometimes what she’d said wrong. She

hurried on, wanting to make Dev smile again. “I promise. We’ll play some pool

or something.”

Dev shot her a look. “Since when?”

“Hey!” Leslie grinned and slapped Dev’s arm. “I can play. I’m damn good at

it.”

Laughing, Dev caught Leslie’s wrist, and when Leslie took another playful swing

at her with her free hand, she caught that one too. “And what will we do after I

beat you in ten minutes?”

“Oh, you think?” Leslie gave Dev a teasing shove, and when Dev stumbled

back in surprise, still holding Leslie’s wrists, Leslie lost her balance too and fell

into her. They ended up in a tangle, half sprawled over the wide tank of Dev’s

motorcycle, Dev on the bottom with Leslie’s stomach and thighs pressed against

her, Leslie’s hands on Dev’s shoulders. Their faces were inches apart. Leslie

could feel Dev breathing hard under her, as if she’d been running for a long time.

Dev was only an inch or so shorter than Mike, and her body felt nearly as

• 70 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

hard, except where her small breasts just grazed Leslie’s. Leslie felt the tingling

again, like she had the week before when she’d ridden on the back of Dev’s

motorcycle, their bodies pressed close together. Except she wasn’t nervous this

time. This was Dev, and she had nothing to fear.

So close like this, she could see that Dev’s eyes were more green today,

probably because the sunlight slanted into them, making them glow.

Leslie watched, fascinated, as Dev’s pupils widened and her lips parted

soundlessly. She felt hands skim her waist.

“You ought to get up, Les,” Dev said unsteadily, “before we tip the bike over.”

Leslie didn’t want to move. Her breathing had speeded up, and her heart

seemed to race at the same pace as the pulse that hammered along Dev’s

tanned neck. The May sunshine warmed the backs of her bare legs, but she was

warmer still inside. Lazy and liquid and warm, like sugar bubbling on the stove.

Beneath her, Dev shivered. “Dev.

What—?”

Her voice came out thick and she wondered if she’d be able to stand up. Her

legs felt so heavy. She began to tremble.

Sounding almost panicked, Dev said more sharply, “Leslie. Get off.” She

grasped Leslie’s hips and pushed her away as she levered herself into a standing

position. “I gotta go.”

Leslie stared in an unfamiliar daze as Dev straddled her bike, kicked the engine

over, and roared away, leaving Leslie lonely in a way she’d never

experienced.

“Leslie,” Eileen Harris said, giving Leslie a concerned look. “Are you feeling all

right?”

“What?” Leslie said, looking around the kitchen as if she’d never seen it before.

She blinked and the past receded. “Sure. Just daydreaming.”

Eileen rinsed her hands in the sink and dried them on a dish towel.

“I guess Devon wasn’t exactly the kind of girl who would have Þ t in very well

back then.”

Leslie’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by that?”

“I didn’t mean anything negative by it,” Eileen said, clearly surprised by the heat

in Leslie’s voice. “She’s obviously intelligent and very nice. She just seems…

well, I can’t picture her as a girl interested in the things you and your friends—”

• 71 •

RADCLY fFE

“Thanks, Mom,” Leslie said, rising quickly. She stalked to the sink and ß ung

the dregs of her coffee into it before banging the cup down on the counter. “You

make the rest of us sound like we were airheads who spent all our time Þ xing

our hair and gossiping.”

Eileen’s eyebrows rose. “I wasn’t judging you or your friends, I just meant that

she seems different.”

“Different?” Leslie folded her arms over her chest. “Different from who? Who

you think we were or who we really were? Did you even have any idea who I

was?”

“I thought so,” Eileen said quietly. “At least as much as you let me know.”

“Me?” Leslie wanted to pace. More than that, she wanted to scream. That was

the moment she realized she was losing control, and she very deliberately shut

the door on her anger and her hurt. It was as if a cold wind blew through her,

obliterating the emotions that threatened to cloud her judgment and disturb the

balance she prided herself on having. “This is a ridiculous conversation. Those

things are long past, and whatever either of us did or didn’t do doesn’t matter

anymore.”

Eileen poured herself a cup of coffee. Quietly, she said, “Do you really believe

that?”

“Believe what?” Leslie said, comfortable now that reason ruled.

She and her mother had this kind of conversation every time they were in the

same room together for more than an hour. Since the day she’d left for college,

something critical in their relationship had changed.

They couldn’t agree on anything anymore.

“That things left undone, unresolved, don’t haunt us. That we can just walk

away from the past as if it never happened?” Eileen’s voice was pensive, tinged

with sadness. But there was no challenge, no accusation.

“I know that people change, everything changes. We are who we are now.”

What she didn’t add was strangers.

“Well, it might be nice to get acquainted again.”

Part of Leslie wanted to believe that, and part of her wondered how to begin.

She wasn’t even sure she wanted to try. “You should Þ nish making breakfast.

All the guests will be clamoring at the door in a minute. Why don’t I help.”

“You can get the eggs out of the refrigerator,” Eileen said, turning

• 72 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

back to the stove and sliding a large skillet over the gas burners. “Ever hear

from Mike?”

Leslie froze with the door to the refrigerator half open. “No.

Why?”

“He lives in the area and we see him from time to time. He always asks about

you.”

“I don’t think we’d have anything in common any longer.”

Eileen slit the plastic on a pound of bacon and lay strips in a cast-iron pan. “Are

you seeing anyone special?”

There it was, the opening that Leslie needed to tell her mother just how little she

actually knew of her. She realized that her mother was just making casual

conversation, and not probing for private information. The decision was hers—

reveal herself, or preserve the comfortable distance she had created between

herself and her family, and by extension, all that had existed up until the day

she’d left for college.

“I’m seeing someone,” Leslie said, wondering how to characterize her

relationship with Rachel. Not exactly serious? That wasn’t quite true. It was

exclusive and reasonably long term, so didn’t that make it serious? On the

surface it seemed that way, but that wasn’t how it felt.

In fact, the only word that came to mind was casual. Well, it wasn’t necessary

to examine all the details, when only one was truly relevant.

“A woman.”

The fork in her mother’s hand stilled above the pan of sizzling bacon for just a

second, then she resumed turning the meat. “Is that something recent?” She

looked at Leslie over her shoulder. “I never realized you were interested in

women that way.”

You never told me. The accusation hung in the air and Leslie carefully edged

around it. Trying to explain why she’d never mentioned it meant revisiting events

and feelings that had no place in her life now. She slid the cardboard carton of

eggs onto the counter next to her mother. “I’ve known for a few years. Since

college.”

“That’s quite a long time now,” Eileen said, the hurt evident in her tone.

“I guess it is.” Leslie sighed, knowing she’d added another disappointment. “It

just never seemed to come up.”

“But this is what you want? You’re happy?”

• 73 •

RADCLY fFE

Happy. Why was that the word that everyone used to deÞ ne what mattered?

As if that were all that anyone should strive for, some ß eeting, irrational, and

often false emotion. “It’s who I am.” She reÞ lled her coffee cup and started

toward the door. “I’m going to skip breakfast. I’ll see you later.” She didn’t

wait for her mother’s reply.

v

Dev carried a plate laden with scones, scrambled eggs, and bacon in one hand

and a cup of coffee in the other. Watching the path from the cabins for Leslie,

she settled into a wicker chair on the front porch and balanced the plate on her

knee.

She jumped when a voice behind her said, “You eat like a lumberjack.”

“It’s the air. Whenever I’m in the mountains, my appetite triples.”

Dev grinned up at Leslie, who was backlit in the morning sunlight. All she could

see was her silhouette and the halo of gold around her face.

She was angled so that the dark, smooth curve of her breast arced above the

plane of her body, reminding Dev of the mountains rising above the lake. She

swallowed, her hunger suddenly shifting to something far more primal than

breakfast. “You eat already?”

Leslie settled onto the substantial porch railing and wrapped one arm around the

smooth column that rose to the roof. She sipped her second cup of coffee.

“Yes.”

Somehow, Dev had a suspicion that coffee was Leslie’s main breakfast staple.

She wore jeans, a short-sleeved boat-neck T-shirt, and sneakers. Although her

dress was more relaxed than the day before, nothing else about her was. Her

body still looked like an overly tight spring. Dev could nearly hear the tension

humming in the air around her.

“Have you been waiting long?” Dev asked, since she’d arrived precisely at 6:30

a.m. She hadn’t seen Leslie inside.

“I got here a half an hour ago or so. Then I went for a walk down to the lake.”

Dev tried a scone, which was delicious, and sipped her coffee.

“I’ll be Þ nished in a few minutes and we can get going.”

“There’s no hurry. We’re on your schedule today.”

• 74 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

“No schedule. What we don’t get done today, we’ll do tomorrow.

Or the next day.”

Leslie shook her head. “Interesting approach.”

Dev grinned. “Probably not what you’re used to.”

“No.” Leslie scanned the house, then followed a couple as they came out the

front door and disappeared down the path with their arms around one another.

She blocked out the image. “Not exactly.”

“Something happen this morning?” Dev asked quietly.

“No. Why?”

“I just wondered if you were always this uptight, or if something special caused

it.”

“I’m not uptight.” Leslie frowned, thinking of all the work she had left unÞ

nished and the fact that she was essentially blowing it off to follow Dev around.

“I’m just not used to inactivity.”

“I don’t suppose you have one of those do-it-yourself blood-pressure kits, do

you?”

“What?” Leslie stared. “What are you talking about?”

Dev slid her plate onto the table next to her chair and stood. “I think you should

get one. I bet your blood pressure is through the roof right now.”

“I bet it will be if you keep being so irritating,” Leslie snapped, sliding off the

railing. “I didn’t tell you about my little problem so you could badger me.”

“I’m sorry.” Dev resisted the urge to catch Leslie’s wrist as she stalked to the

steps. “It’s not my business.”

Leslie turned at the foot of the stairs and looked back up, shading her eyes in

the glare. “You’re right. It isn’t. Are you ready to go?”

“Let me take my dishes inside and I will be.”

When Dev rejoined Leslie a minute later, she said, “Your mother asked if we

wanted lunch packed, but I told her we’d probably be back by then. She said

to tell you to have a good time.”

Leslie sighed as they started toward the parking lot. “I told her I was going out

with you this morning. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Why would I?” Dev unlocked the passenger door to her truck for Leslie.

“Some people value their privacy. Besides, you didn’t used to be this social.”

• 75 •

RADCLY fFE

Dev walked to the driver’s side and got in as Leslie climbed in next to her. She

slid the key into the ignition but didn’t start it. Instead, she turned in the seat to

face Leslie, who regarded her with faint suspicion.

“That was a long time ago, Les. And I didn’t have a lot in common with most of

my peers.”

“Makeup and boys,” Leslie murmured.

“What?”

Leslie shook her head. “Never mind.”

“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” Dev said quietly. “I thought spending a few

hours out on the lake might be fun for you, but I just seem to be adding to your

aggravation. I don’t want to spoil your vacation.”

“It isn’t you.”

“I’m the only one here.”

“I had one of those mother-daughter moments this morning,”

Leslie said, the words pushing out as if they’d been under pressure to escape.

“A few moments, actually. I told my mother I was a lesbian.”

Dev stiffened and for an instant, she felt dizzy. She gripped the steering wheel

and waited for the world to stop spinning. It was the last thing she’d expected to

hear. It hurt her head, broke her heart all over again, just to hear the words.

Leslie had turned from her, rejected her, wiped out everything they’d ever

shared, because Leslie hadn’t wanted her. Because Leslie hadn’t felt what she

felt. Because Dev had been wrong, different, queer. She’d lived with that eating

away inside her until she’d buried it, all of it. And now the past rose up to mock

her hard-won victory. How could it be that Leslie was a lesbian?

Dev reached down and turned the ignition, but her legs shook so badly she

couldn’t step on the gas. The engine idled.

The silence in the cab was stiß ing. Leslie saw the blood drain from Dev’s face,

and she wondered if Dev felt as her mother did, that the past was a ghost that

haunted the present until the injustices were atoned for. Some of their ghosts,

Dev’s and hers—perhaps all of them—were shared, and she had no idea how

to exorcise them. When Dev Þ nally turned to stare at her, her eyes held more

sorrow than Leslie could bear.

Knowing she was the cause, she had to look away. “I didn’t know, Dev.”

“It’s not your fault,” Dev whispered.

• 76 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

Leslie shook her head and forced herself to face Dev. “It was. You know it

was.”

“Les—”

“You almost died, Dev. Because of me.”

• 77 •

• 78 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

CHAPTER NINE

The fog had rolled in off the water, as it often did in the mountains, and the

combination of the haze and the pain and the beer made it so hard to focus on

the narrow sliver of blacktop that ß ickered in and out of Dev’s sight. Her side

ached like a bad cramp from running too hard and too far, the beer rolled

around in her stomach in search of a way out, and she hurt. God, how she hurt.

The echo of Leslie’s words shredded her heart. She’s nothing to me. She’s

nobody.

Dev blinked back tears, but her vision was no clearer. She burned with hot

shame and guilt for what she’d done. She hadn’t meant to. She hadn’t meant to

kiss her. Not even to touch her. No. Not true. She could admit it now, couldn’t

she? After what she’d done. She’d wanted to touch her. For so long. She

hadn’t thought of anything else for months except seeing Leslie, being close to

her, stealing accidental touches.

She thought of nothing but her smile. Not true. Stop lying. She thought about

her eyes, how soft they got when Leslie was telling her some special secret. She

thought about the curve of her lips, the way they parted in surprise and grew

moist when she laughed. She thought about her breasts, the way they rose

beneath her T-shirt and swayed just a little in her bathing suit.

Dev choked back a groan and revved the engine harder. She knew the road by

heart, she didn’t need to see it. She leaned into the turns, so low her knee nearly

dragged over the road surface. Admit it. Tell the truth. She’d thought about

Leslie’s breasts, and her hips, and what lay between her thighs. She’d thought

about touching her there while she’d touched herself. At Þ rst she hadn’t

understood, had pretended not to recognize what she felt. But after a while, she

couldn’t pretend that the

• 79 •

RADCLY fFE

ache in the pit of her stomach and the hot hard longing between her legs wasn’t

because of Leslie.

Tears streamed from her eyes. She’s nothing to me. Distantly, she heard the

sound of an engine roaring. Bright lights slashed into the fog, blinding her. She

torpedoed into the Þ rst curve of an S-turn hard and fast, Þ ghting to keep the

big machine upright. She hurt. She felt sick.

The roaring sound was inside her.

Metal screamed over the pavement, showers of sparks ß ared like Þ reworks

on the Fourth of July, and she was burning. Burning with shame. Burning with

pain. Burning with the unspeakable agony of loss.

Dev bolted from the truck and made it as far as the trees at the edge of the

parking lot before she vomited. Shivering, she leaned with one arm against the

rough bark and fought down the next swell of nausea.

“Oh my God, Dev!” Leslie skidded to a stop a few feet away, afraid to touch

her. “Dev, what—”

Not turning around, Dev waved her off. “Go away. I’m okay.” She didn’t feel

okay. She felt like her legs might give out. She hadn’t felt anything like this since

she’d come to in the hospital three days after the accident. Even then, her body

had been so wracked with pain, she hadn’t felt the excruciating wrench of

betrayal until weeks later. Then it had seemed unending.

“I’m sorry,” Leslie said miserably. “God, I didn’t mean— If I’d known, I

wouldn’t have told you.”

“It’s not because of what you said.” Dev wiped her mouth on the back of her

arm and slumped onto the grass a few feet away. She leaned against another

tree and closed her eyes. “Bad memories. It’s been a long, long time since it’s

been this bad.”

Leslie caught her bottom lip between her teeth. She wanted to cry.

Nothing, nothing ever made her want to cry. Not for years and years.

Not like this, not from some place deep inside her where it felt as if wounds

never healed and wrongs were never righted. She hurried down to the truck and

pawed through the cooler Dev must have placed in the back earlier. She pulled

out a soda, popped the top on her way back to Dev, and knelt down close to

her. “Here. Coke.”

“Thanks.” Dev opened her eyes, took the soda, and drank half of it down. She

caught a glimpse of Leslie’s eyes, huge and Þ lled with sorrow. Leslie was pale,

and Dev wanted to stroke her cheek, wanted it

• 80 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

as much as she had Þ fteen years before, and just as then, she knew she

couldn’t. “Don’t go back there, Leslie. Don’t hurt for the past.”

“I let you ride off on that motorcycle,” Leslie whispered. “I knew you shouldn’t

drive. I knew it was wrong. I let you go.”

“I climbed onto that bike, Les.” Dev Þ nished her soda and crushed the empty

can in her Þ st, resting it on top of her knee. “There’s nobody responsible for

that except me.”

“I hurt you. I’m so sorry.”

Dev shook her head. “You don’t need to apologize for not feeling the way I felt.

You didn’t do anything wrong.” Dev took a deep breath and hoisted herself up.

“If you don’t mind, I’m going back to the cabin and get cleaned up. Why don’t

we postpone our trip to the lake.”

“Of course.” Leslie stood, reminding herself they were adults now and what had

been between them had ended on a dark night during the last moments of their

innocence. “Are you all right? I can walk you back.”

“No.” Dev shook her head with a small smile. “I’m okay. I apologize for the

little scene. That’s not normal for me.”

Leslie laughed humorlessly. “I don’t quite know what’s happening, but I haven’t

felt like myself since the moment I arrived.”

“Well, don’t let me add to your troubles. I never blamed you then.

I certainly don’t now.”

Leslie watched her walk away, wondering if Dev realized that before she’d

jumped from the truck she’d been crying. Tears that fell in silence, bridging the

years as if they’d never passed. Leslie had wanted to brush them from her

cheeks, but she’d been afraid to touch her, knowing instinctively that Dev was

somewhere far away. Somewhere that Leslie could not join her, because she’d

forfeited that right when she’d closed her eyes, closed her heart, and let Dev

walk away alone, carrying the pain for both of them.

Dev was gone now, and Leslie was left wishing what she’d wished so many

times since she’d Þ nally admitted who she was. She wished she could take

back the lies.

Her BlackBerry vibrated on her hip and she automatically scanned the readout.

Rachel.

“Hi,” Leslie said.

“I got your message. It’s hell down here. The Dow Corning case Þ nally got on

the docket and I’m scrambling to get experts lined up. Of course, summer’s

coming and everyone is suddenly unavailable.”

• 81 •

RADCLY fFE

“Some people have a life,” Leslie murmured as she walked down the long slope

toward the water, scanning the shore for Dev’s Þ gure.

“What? Missed that. I’m in the parking garage.”

“Nothing.”

“You must be bored out of your mind by now.”

Leslie laughed. “It’s different.”

“When are you coming home?”

Home. Leslie considered the word. She and Rachel didn’t live together. They

didn’t share a home. Her condo, where she slept and ate and worked, felt like

an extension of her ofÞ ce. If she had a home, it was her ofÞ ce. That’s where

she really lived. That’s where she was the person she had become. She should

leave. She should go back to being herself.

“I’m not sure yet.”

“Well, keep me informed. Listen, darling, I have to run. Call me.

Oh, how are you feeling?”

“I’m Þ ne.” Leslie wondered why lies so patently transparent were actually

believed.

“Wonderful. Bye, darling.”

“Yes. All right. Bye.”

Leslie walked out onto the dock and sat on the edge in the sun.

The water that lapped two feet beneath her was so clear she could see the

sandy bottom. Schools of minnows darted just under the surface.

She heard Dev’s voice. I’ve always liked Þ sh.

“Oh, Dev. Why didn’t I know?”

v

Dev looked up from where she knelt on the bank at the sound of footsteps

behind her. She waved, feeling a bit of her melancholy lift when Natalie

sauntered down the trail. She was in uniform, her cuffs buttoned neatly at the

wrists, her name tag above her left breast pocket, various patches denoting

department and rank sewn onto her sleeves.

Her dark hair was twisted into a loose bun at the back of her neck and held with

a plain gold clip. Her smile was radiant.

“Hey,” Natalie said. “I thought that was your truck up there in the turnoff.

Weren’t you going out on the lake today?”

“Change in plans. I’m doing a little close-in work instead.”

• 82 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

“Uh-huh.” Natalie squatted down beside her. “You could’ve called me.”

“Something tells me you have better things to do than babysit me.

But thanks.”

“Other things.” Natalie skimmed her Þ ngertips along Dev’s jaw.

“DeÞ nitely not better. How about I collect on that rain check tonight.

Dinner?”

Dev hesitated. Natalie’s message was clear. And honest. She owed her the

same. “I think I’d be lousy company.”

“You’d be surprised what a decent dinner and a good wine can do for your

mood.” Natalie stood, reaching for Dev’s sample case as Dev collected the rest

of her gear. “There’s a nice little restaurant on the lake about ten miles north of

here. Tables outside on a patio. Great view of the sunset.”

Dev was tempted. She didn’t look forward to an evening alone in her cabin with

her thoughts because she couldn’t be certain she could keep her mind off Leslie

Þ fty yards away. She deÞ nitely did not want to have dinner at the lodge.

“Dinner sounds good. There’s one thing you need to know, though.”

“Oh?”

“Besides the fact that I like you, it hasn’t escaped my notice that you’re very

attractive.”

“Good. I’m glad you noticed.” Natalie smiled, and after a quick look over her

shoulder, kissed Dev softly. “As I’ve mentioned, more or less, I happen to think

you’re very attractive too. As in keeping-me-awake-at-night attractive.”

“I’m not sure going there’s a good idea,” Dev said.

“Dinner Þ rst,” Natalie said easily. “After that we’ll see.”

“That okay with you?”

“Yes.” Natalie nodded and ran her Þ ngers up and down Dev’s arm before

stepping away. “It really is. I’ll pick you up in an hour and a half.”

“Okay,” Dev said, taking her at her word. She waved goodbye as Natalie

drove off, then loaded her gear and headed back to Lakeview.

She circled around on the lake path so she could get to her cabin without

passing in front of Leslie’s. She didn’t want to see her again for a while.

Until she had time to get everything back where it belonged, safely locked away

behind the walls she’d constructed.

• 83 •

RADCLY fFE

v

Six hours later, when she and Natalie walked hand in hand down the main path

toward her cabin, Dev was pretty sure she’d succeeded in Þ nding her balance

again. The restaurant had been everything Natalie had promised. The food was

excellent, the view breathtaking, and the weather had cooperated, remaining

warm until well after sundown so that they were able to linger over dinner under

the stars. The evening was still comfortable although cooling, and the moon

nearly full, so she didn’t need the ß ashlight she’d picked up from her truck

when she and Natalie had returned.

As with every other time they’d spent together, it had been easy.

Natalie was easy to talk to. Easy to laugh with. Very easy to look at.

Very easy to kiss, Dev thought as Natalie stopped her with a tug on her hand,

then leaned into her and slid both arms around her neck.

Natalie’s mouth was soft and warm, her tongue a delicate tease along the edge

of Dev’s lips. Her breath was sweet, her body Þ rm in the way of a well-toned

athlete, yielding in the way of a woman. Natalie hummed an appreciative sound

in the back of her throat and tightened her Þ ngers in Dev’s hair. The kiss

ratcheted up a notch and Dev felt a trickle of warning. She eased her head

back.

“We’ll attract bears if we keep this up out here. Come up to the cabin and let

me give you that nightcap I promised.”

Natalie laughed. “We’ll attract something, I suppose. Yes, let’s get more

comfortable.”

Once inside, Dev went to the tiny kitchen and reached into the cabinet over the

sink for the brandy she’d stored there. Natalie’s arms came around her from

behind and she felt the Þ rm press of Natalie’s breasts against her back. For just

a second, she was back on the motorcycle with Leslie behind her. The

memories were coming so hard and so fast in the last few days; she couldn’t

seem to stop them from streaming through her mind. Things she hadn’t thought

of in years felt as if they’d happened yesterday. She shivered.

“Dev?” Natalie stepped back and waited for Dev to turn. She regarded Dev

quizzically. “You just went somewhere, didn’t you?”

“How did you know?”

“I felt it.”

“Sorry.”

• 84 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

“Like I said. Dinner. And after that we’ll see.” Natalie held out her hand for the

brandy. “Let’s go outside and toast the moon.”

“Yeah,” Dev said. “Let’s do that.”

“I probably should’ve asked this before now,” Natalie said as they sat side by

side on the top step of Dev’s porch, “but are you involved with someone?”

“No.”

“On the serious rebound?”

Dev laughed. “Not that either. I don’t get…seriously involved.”

Natalie shifted sideways to look at Dev’s face. “Never?”

“Nope. Just not my thing, I guess. I probably should’ve told you that before

now.”

“I don’t see why,” Natalie said, laughing. “We just had dinner.

That’s not exactly grounds for posting the banns.”

“Still, you should know.”

“What I know,” Natalie said, setting her glass aside, “is that I like you and I like

kissing you. That’s quite a lot for a week.”

“I suppose it is,” Dev murmured as Natalie moved closer. Part of Dev’s mind

yielded to the pull of the moon, and the warm fragrant breeze, and Natalie’s

sweet, hot kisses. But deep inside, she remained remote and untouched. And it

was that part of her that Þ nally pulled away. “You’re hard to resist.”

“Do you want to?” Natalie’s voice was breathy and low.

“Yeah. I think I better.”

“I can think of a million arguments against that,” Natalie said, caressing the back

of Dev’s neck. “Some of them, you might even buy. But”—she kissed Dev’s

cheek—“it’s a long summer. Wanna walk me back to my car, or should I have

another brandy and sleep on the couch?”

“Is that a trick question?”

Natalie laughed.

v

Leslie knew she should go inside. It was chilling fast, and even the blanket she’d

pulled around herself when she curled up in the porch chair wasn’t keeping her

warm. After parting with Dev in the parking lot that morning, she’d used the

wireless connection at the lodge to download work from the ofÞ ce, and she’d

kept busy for the rest of

• 85 •

RADCLY fFE

the day and evening. She’d worked straight through dinner and Þ nally relaxed

with a bottle of wine out on her porch. Dev’s cabin had been dark until after

eleven, when the lights came on. A few minutes later she caught the murmur of

conversation, although she couldn’t hear any words. However, she could make

out the unmistakable sound of feminine laughter.

She told herself that she was glad Dev had company and that she was feeling

better. She meant it, too, at least part of it. When she heard the quiet thump of a

door closing and the voices disappeared, she Þ nally dragged herself inside in

search of sleep. Lying alone in the dark, images that she’d thought long ago

expunged returned to haunt her.

Half dragging Mike back to the boathouse while he raged and accused and she

denied and pleaded. The ß eeting glimpse of Dev staggering to her bike and

careening from the parking lot. The look of broken despair on Dev’s face.

Leslie closed her eyes tightly as the frantic ß uttering in her chest stole what

remained of her breath. Grief and guilt felt so much the same, she could no

longer tell them apart.

• 86 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

CHAPTER TEN

Natalie was a light sleeper and the quiet movements across the room woke her.

She turned on her side beneath the cotton blanket and watched Dev making

coffee. She could have told her she was awake, but she was enjoying the

opportunity to observe her. Dev wore a T-shirt that had seen better days—hell,

better years—and a pair of faded plaid boxers. She was barefoot, and muscles

rippled in her arms and thighs as she stretched and reached into cabinets. Her

hair was wet from the shower and a shade darker than usual, slicked back

behind her ears and curling in small tendrils over the back of her neck. Those

delicate strands gave Dev an unexpectedly vulnerable look, and Natalie felt a

dangerous stirring in her heart. The stirring in her loins that the sight of Dev

always elicited didn’t bother her. Lust was a familiar and not unwelcome

sensation. It assured her that her heart was beating and that all systems were

functioning. If she’d looked at Devon Weber and felt nothing, she’d have been

worried.

However, what she did not want was to look at Dev and feel that little twisty

sensation in the pit of her stomach and the tightening in the center of her chest

that spoke not of lust, but longing. Especially not with the signals that Dev had

been sending, which were not so much mixed as cloudy. Natalie sensed Dev’s

attraction and her desire, but something held her back. Something that she was

willing to bet Dev wanted very much but couldn’t, or wouldn’t, admit.

I don’t get seriously involved, Dev had said.

Maybe not now, but once she had. Natalie was certain of that.

Somewhere, sometime, there had been a woman who had mattered.

And whoever she had been, she’d left indelible marks.

• 87 •

RADCLY fFE

There were other marks too. Ones she hadn’t expected. A series of scars

crisscrossed Dev’s right thigh below her boxers, twisting as far down as her

knee. The pale white rivulets were faded reminders of some distant injury, and

Natalie ached to think of what might have caused them. She caught back a

murmur of sympathy.

Dev turned and smiled. “Hey. Good morning. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake

you.”

Smiling back, Natalie consigned whatever history lay beneath those scars to the

past. Dev was here now and looking very sexy.

Natalie extended her arms over her head, arched her back, and stretched

beneath the blanket with a contented purr. She was naked, and she could tell

from the ß icker of Dev’s eyes down the length of her body and quickly back up

to her face that the thin covering didn’t do a whole lot to camouß age her shape.

“No problem. You’re a nice sight to wake up to.”

“Can I tempt you with coffee?”

“You can tempt me with just about anything.”

Dev laughed. “I trust the couch and the brandy left no ill effects?”

“Not a one.” Natalie swiveled around to sit up, holding one corner of the

blanket between her breasts. “I feel great.”

Dev thought she looked great too. Her eyes and mouth were soft in the early

morning light, her dark hair framing her face like an invitation.

She was beautiful and warm and Dev wondered why she didn’t cross the room

to her and lift the blanket away and accept what Natalie was offering.

Tenderness and shared pleasure. Natalie had asked for no promises, made no

demands.

Maybe it was because Dev liked her, really liked her in a way that she rarely

experienced because she seldom made close friends, that she didn’t. Shouldn’t

she have something to offer too? Shouldn’t there be something more than

desire?

As if reading her mind, Natalie said quietly, “Sometimes things are enough just

as they are, Dev.”

Dev poured coffee into two white ceramic mugs with I ♥ Lake George on the

side. “Black, right?”

Natalie nodded.

“Just in case you thought otherwise,” Dev said, setting Natalie’s coffee on the

maple Americana end table beside the couch, “it’s not

• 88 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

about you.” She leaned down and softly kissed Natalie. “I’m a little turned

around these days. Sorry.”

“Thanks for the coffee.” Natalie didn’t reach for her because she had a feeling if

she pushed just a little harder than she had been, Dev would relent. And it

wasn’t about having her. Not entirely. She wanted her, but not like that. Not

when she knew something inside Dev would end up hurting more. “I understand,

by the way. If you want a sounding board sometime, anytime, I’m available.”

“Thanks, but it’s something that talking won’t change. Just some old stuff that

needs to stay in the past, where it belongs.” She retrieved her own coffee and

sipped. “I know the minute you drive away, I’ll feel like an idiot.”

“Good. You should.” Natalie wrapped the blanket around herself and stood.

“I’m going to take a shower. Do you have time to wait?”

“Sure. They make a good breakfast at the lodge. How about it?”

“I’ll be ready in Þ ve.”

v

Leslie awakened just before six, relieved to see the morning. The night had been

Þ lled with fragmented dreams and disturbingly erotic half-formed images of

making love with Rachel who became Dev who became Mike who became

Leslie herself in an endless loop of increasingly frantic and unrequited desire.

More distressing still, her body thrummed heavily with lingering arousal.

Surprised, she traced her Þ ngers between her legs and discovered that she was

wet. The ER

doctor had clearly been right when he’d said hormones might be at the root of

her heart and blood pressure problems, because something was deÞ nitely

amiss with her body.

While she enjoyed sex, it wasn’t something she ordinarily paid much attention

to. Certainly thoughts of making love never occupied her conscious mind or

disturbed her concentration. She couldn’t ever remember feeling as if she

needed sex. When it occurred, it was a pleasurable interlude. Even on the

infrequent occasions when she and Rachel spent the entire night together, she

couldn’t recall waking aroused, not even with Rachel’s body against hers.

Rachel particularly enjoyed sex in the morning, so they made love then, but

Rachel always initiated it. Leslie apparently was a good partner, as Rachel

always

• 89 •

RADCLY fFE

seemed satisÞ ed. As for herself, Leslie found being intimate with Rachel

pleasant, and she almost always achieved orgasm. And then it was over and she

was free to focus on the things that did occupy her mind.

She never woke up with the urge to be touched. Not like she had right now.

“What I have,” Leslie muttered as she abolished the remaining pieces of the

dream and headed for the shower, “is way too much time on my hands.”

No wonder she never took vacations. She was mentally and physically

completely out of sync. As she twisted on the shower knobs, she spoke aloud

as if that would ensure results. “All that’s about to change. What I need is a trip

to the ofÞ ce.”

By 6:30 a.m., she was dressed in casual business attire—slacks and blouse and

low heels. Briefcase in hand, she started along the path to the lodge, intent on

regaining control of her life. When she ran into Dev and her overnight guest, she

realized that her plan might turn out to be a bit more challenging than she

anticipated. Dev’s companion had her arm loosely around Dev’s waist, and she

looked relaxed and comfortable. ConÞ dent.

Leslie greeted them both politely, surprised when Dev blushed.

Natalie reintroduced herself, although Leslie remembered her name quite well.

“Going to work?” Dev asked.

“Yes,” Leslie said as they moved on as a group. She could have walked ahead,

but why give the impression that anything about the situation bothered her? Dev

had every right to entertain women in her cabin. Why should she care who

Devon Weber slept with?

“A working vacation?” Natalie asked pleasantly.

“More like a working visit.” Hoping to divert attention from herself, Leslie

asked, “How is the season going for you?”

“It’s gotten off to a better start than most,” Natalie said, shooting a quick smile

in Dev’s direction. “With the economy the way it’s been recently, we expect

more people to opt for less expensive vacations. It’s getting busy and should

stay that way all summer.”

“Do you have time to join us for breakfast, Les?” Dev asked, slowing as they

climbed the steps to the lodge.

Leslie opened the door and held it while Natalie stepped inside.

She glanced up at Dev, who hesitated in the doorway by her side. “No,

• 90 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

thanks. I’m just going to grab some coffee and see if I can borrow my mother’s

car. Hopefully, my father’s revived it.”

“If not, you can take my truck.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it, but I can always rent a car.”

“The offer’s open anytime.” Dev glanced after Natalie, who had settled at a

table on the far side of the room. “What about the other?”

“The other?” Leslie frowned, then realized Dev was asking about her health and

the yet-to-be-scheduled tests. “Oh. That. Just as soon as I check in with the ofÞ

ce up here. I’m not really sure how long I’ll be staying, so if I don’t see you

again, have a good summer.”

“I got the impression you were going to be here a few weeks.”

“The peace and quiet are starting to get to me.”

“Leslie, if it’s me—”

“It’s not you, Dev,” Leslie said sharply. How many more times could she let

Dev accept the responsibility for the pain they couldn’t seem to stop causing one

another? “Really. I need to get on the road before trafÞ c gets heavy.” She

gestured toward Natalie with a slight tip of her chin. “Your friend is waiting.”

Dev grabbed Leslie’s hand before she could move away. “Your mother has my

cell phone number. Call me if you need my truck. Or anything.”

Leslie closed her eyes and sighed. “Dev. You always were way too nice.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve grown out of that.”

“I don’t think so.” Gently, Leslie drew her hand away. “Take care, Dev.”

Dev followed Leslie with her eyes as Leslie disappeared into the kitchen. After

pouring a cup of coffee from the large urn on the sideboard, she joined Natalie.

“Ready to hit the buffet?”

“DeÞ nitely.” As they waited for the few people ahead of them to Þ ll their

plates, Natalie said, “Looks like you and Leslie have history.”

“We went to high school together. How did you know?”

“You can always tell. The way you look at each other, the shorthand sentences.

You know the sort of thing.”

Actually, Dev didn’t. She hadn’t had any friends other than Leslie in high school,

and since then, the people whose acquaintances she’d made were just that.

Acquaintances. But she didn’t comment. She was thinking that Leslie looked

even more run down and pale than she had

• 91 •

RADCLY fFE

when she’d Þ rst arrived. And she was willing to bet money that Leslie wouldn’t

schedule the tests that she was supposed to get.

Just then, Leslie came out of the kitchen, travel mug in hand, and strode briskly

through the dining room and out the front door. Dev wanted to go after her.

Leslie had said she might be leaving soon. That thought left Dev feeling hollow,

until she reminded herself she was being ridiculous. In fact, Leslie leaving was

the best thing that could possibly happen. Then they could both get on with their

lives without constantly reminding one another of something that had happened

long ago, but that still apparently had the power to hurt them both. Leslie was

doing the right thing. Making the correct choice. Dev took a deep breath,

absorbing that simple realization and enjoying the peace that went with it.

“Do you happen to have my permits for camping on the island?”

Dev asked.

Natalie looked startled at the abrupt change in subject, but nodded.

“That and the gear you’ll need to stay for four or Þ ve days. Everything should

be set for you by tomorrow.”

“Good. Then I’ll head out the day after tomorrow.” Getting away from

Lakeview and the memories that had sprung to life around her was just what she

needed, especially if Leslie was leaving. With any luck, she could get back to

work without constantly seeing Leslie’s face in her mind or hearing her voice or

just…remembering.

“Thursday. Hell,” Natalie said. “I have to be in meetings almost all day. But I

can get someone else to run you out—”

“No problem. I’m pretty sure Paul Harris will be able to do it.”

Dev touched Natalie’s shoulder. “Believe me, you’ve been a huge help already.”

“It’s no hardship.” Natalie reached under the table and brushed her Þ ngers

along Dev’s thigh. “I told you that the Þ rst day. Remember?”

“I do seem to recall something like that.”

Natalie stopped her teasing caress just short of Dev’s crotch. She wasn’t usually

so blatant in her seduction tactics, but Dev got to her in ways that other women

didn’t. As much as Dev held back physically, she didn’t hide what she was

feeling. Or maybe she couldn’t. Natalie had seen the way Dev looked at Leslie

Harris, and watching Dev’s face when Leslie had disappeared out the front

door, she’d Þ nally understood the phrase wearing your heart on your sleeve.

Dev probably

• 92 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

didn’t realize it, but when she looked at Leslie, her eyes were Þ lled with

helpless longing.

“Were you out in high school?” Natalie asked, suddenly getting the picture. But

Dev couldn’t possibly be carrying a torch all these years, could she?

“No,” Dev said, her voice hoarse. “I didn’t know anyone who was gay. I didn’t

really understand myself, what I was feeling, not for sure until…” The night I

kissed her.

The pain in Dev’s face was so naked, Natalie ached. Obviously she’d been

wrong about the importance of whatever Dev had felt back then. Impulsively,

she covered Dev’s hand where it rested on the tablecloth. “Never mind. Water

under the bridge, right?”

“Absolutely,” Dev said, thinking that until a few days before, she’d believed that.

She drained her coffee and pushed her uneaten plate of food away. “Thanks for

last night. It was just what I needed.”

Natalie held Dev’s eyes and let Dev see what was in hers. Her interest. Her

desire. Last night had been great. What she might as well admit was that she

wanted more than kisses. She wanted more than a night or two of pleasure with

Dev’s great body. She wanted to be the one to erase the hurt in her eyes. And

that was dangerous thinking. But then, anything worth having was worth the risk

of a few bumps and bruises. “So let’s do it again soon and see what else you

might need.

Tonight? Tomorrow?”

Shaking her head, Dev pushed her chair back, her legs stretched out in front of

her. “I’ve got a couple of solid days’ work at the lab before I head out to the

islands. How about another rain check?”

Natalie let her eyes wander up and down Dev’s body, taking her time and not

bothering to hide exactly what she was thinking. “I’ll pray for storms.”

Laughing, Dev rose. “Don’t let the tourists hear you say that.”

On the way out, Dev waved to Eileen Harris, who stood in the doorway

between the kitchen and the dining room, watching them with a pensive

expression.

• 93 •

• 94 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

CHAPTER ELEVEN

At just after 6 p.m., Dev turned down the driveway to Lakeview.

She’d had a good day at the lab. Arno Rodriguez, her summer intern from

Oswego State College, had shown up and proved to be eager, if more likely to

be of use analyzing data than collecting it.

Arno’s practical expertise left a bit to be desired, but his computer skills were

excellent. Truthfully, she didn’t mind. She had always preferred to be out in the

Þ eld, but in the last few years more and more of her time had been consumed

by preparing reports for one government agency or another and presenting

recommendations at state and federal budgetary meetings. And lately, she’d had

another, even less pleasant job added to her résumé—testifying for the state as

an expert witness at trials involving EPA violations.

So this summer was almost like a sabbatical for her, and she welcomed the

opportunity to do the Þ eldwork. She’d been so absorbed all day she hadn’t

thought of anything personal until she’d reached the Lakeshore Road. Then she

couldn’t help but think of Leslie and wonder if she had left to return to New

York City. She told herself that was for the best, but it didn’t feel that way in the

pit of her stomach.

The heavy throbbing there felt almost as bad as losing her the Þ rst time.

When she rounded a curve in the narrow road that wound through the trees and

saw emergency vehicles with lights ß ashing parked haphazardly just below the

lodge, her heart lurched. Leslie! She stomped down on the gas and rocketed

into the parking lot, Þ shtailed to a stop, and jumped from the cab of the truck.

As she ran toward a small

• 95 •

RADCLY fFE

crowd at the verge of the long slope leading down to the boathouse, she

scanned the back porch where half a dozen guests were gathered. There was no

one there she recognized. Everyone appeared to be staring in the direction of

the lake and the docks below. She started down, and that was when she saw

EMTs guiding a stretcher up the grassy incline. She recognized Eileen Harris

hurrying along beside the clump of medical personnel, and her stomach tightened

into a cold knot.

It had been so obvious that Leslie was ill. Why hadn’t anyone said anything—

why hadn’t she? Because it wasn’t her place. Because Leslie’s prickly temper

and aloof manner kept everyone at arm’s length. Because she didn’t want to

risk Leslie shutting her out. When had she resorted to cowardice, or was that

just the way she’d always been around Leslie?

Racing downhill, half skidding on the damp grass, she called to Leslie’s mother.

“What happened? Is it Leslie? Is she hurt?”

“What?” Eileen, who looked confused and distracted, nevertheless seemed

relieved when she recognized Dev. “Oh. No, no. It’s Paul.”

Breathless, she grasped Dev’s arm and pulled her along. “One of the winches

pulled loose and the boat slipped…and, oh God—”

Devon grasped her hand. “Take your time. It’s okay. What did the EMTs say?”

“It looks like his leg is broken. They’re not sure what else,” Eileen said in a

calmer voice. “I can’t reach Leslie. I’ve called her, but I can’t reach her.”

“Cell reception is spotty up here,” Dev said. “Where are they taking him?”

“Glens Falls.”

They’d reached the ambulance, and Eileen bent down to murmur something to

her husband, whose face was covered with an oxygen mask. Dev couldn’t tell if

he answered or not. As the EMTs loaded him into the van, Eileen wrapped her

arms around her waist and shuddered.

“I need to go to the hospital, but the guests…” Eileen murmured.

“I should stay until Leslie—”

“No, you go. I’ll keep an eye on things,” Dev said, extracting a card from her

wallet. “Here’s my cell number. As soon as you’re settled, call me and tell me

where you are. I’ll give the message to Leslie so

• 96 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

she can meet you there. You can Þ ll me in on what to do here when you call.”

Eileen shook her head. “You’re a guest. You shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Hey, I used to be a neighbor. I’m not really a guest.”

“You’re very kind,” Eileen said with a faint smile. She squeezed Dev’s arm.

“Thank you. I have to go. I’ll call you. Leslie’s number—”

“I’ve got it. Remember, you gave it to me the day I picked her up at the train

station.”

Dev watched as Eileen climbed into the back of the ambulance, immeasurably

relieved that it wasn’t Leslie strapped to the gurney as the doors closed with a

resounding thud. When the emergency vehicles disappeared from sight, she

hurried off toward her cabin. She needed to shower, change, and get back to

the lodge. She needed to reach Leslie.

Twenty minutes later, after being routed directly to voicemail at least a dozen

times, she reached her.

“Les? It’s Dev.”

“Dev? Hi, what’s going on?”

“Where are you?”

“About Þ fteen minutes away on the Northway. Why?”

“Can you pull over for a minute so I don’t lose you?”

“Hold on…okay, go ahead.”

Leslie sounded composed, unrattled.

“Your dad’s had an accident—it looks like a broken leg, at least.

Your mother’s with him, and they’re on their way to Glens Falls Hospital right

now.”

“All right.” Leslie took a deep breath. “Is he in any danger?”

“I don’t know, Les. I don’t think so, but I got here just as the EMTs were

transporting him.”

“I’m headed there now, then. Thanks, Dev.”

“Call me if you need anything.” Dev heard the crackle of static.

“Les? Les?”

She disconnected, feeling impotent. Even though she knew Leslie didn’t need

her, she wished she could join her. She shook her head, wondering at the

strength of the ties that she’d once thought were irrevocably broken.

v

• 97 •

RADCLY fFE

Most of the lights were out in the lodge when Leslie pulled into the parking lot

shortly after 11 p.m. She was so tired she felt numb.

She contemplated going directly to her cabin, but she needed to make sure

everything was all right with the guests. Thankfully, it wasn’t yet the height of the

season and they weren’t full. She tossed her briefcase in the backseat of the

Jeep, locked the door, and made her way inside.

A single lamp burned on the walnut sideboard just inside the wide double doors.

The great room and the dining room beyond were empty. Light shone beneath

the swinging door from the kitchen and she headed that way. She stumbled to a

stop as she shouldered the door open and stepped into the next room. Dev, in a

navy T-shirt and blue jeans, stood at the long kitchen counter with a white

butcher’s apron tied around her waist, covering platters of food with plastic

wrap.

“Dev?” Leslie said in surprise.

Dev set aside the carving knife that she’d been using to slice ham.

“Hi. How’s your dad?”

“He’s sedated, but stable. What are you doing?”

“Cleaning up after dinner.” Dev walked to the refrigerator and pulled out a

bottle of Heineken. She held it up in Leslie’s direction.

“Want one?”

“God, yes.” Leslie slumped onto a stool at the central island.

“They’re going to operate on him early tomorrow morning. My mother wanted

to be close tonight and got a room at a motel across the street from the

hospital.”

Dev opened two bottles, handed one to Leslie, and pulled a chair around the

table so she could sit facing her. “What did they say, exactly?”

Leslie shrugged. “What do they ever say? His leg is shattered and there’s a

hairline fracture of his pelvis. There might be some nerve damage.” Leslie’s

voice cracked and she covered her eyes. Her Þ ngers trembled.

“Hey,” Dev said gently, resting her hand on Leslie’s knee. “You look beat. Why

don’t I walk you down to your cabin so you can turn in.”

“No. I need to get some things together for my mother. I promised her I’d bring

them Þ rst thing tomorrow.” She scanned the kitchen.

• 98 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

“Besides, you need some help in here. God. You shouldn’t even be doing this.”

“Why not?” Dev said, feigning affront. She pointed to a row of typed pages afÞ

xed to the refrigerator with multicolored magnets shaped like Þ sh. “Your

mother has the menu laid out for every meal, every day of the week, and she

cooks ahead. It was easy enough to Þ nd everything and put it together.” She

grinned. “At least, no one complained. Yet.”

“There’s only, what, eight guests? In another week, there’ll be thirty. Are you

planning to give up your day job?” Hearing the sharp edge to her voice, Leslie

covered Dev’s hand and squeezed. “But thanks. If you hadn’t been here, my

mother would have had to stay, and she’d be out of her mind with worry.”

“It was no problem,” Dev said. “And I’m not volunteering for permanent KP.

I’m only good until we run out of the semi-prepared stuff. But your mother’s not