20. Jacob
Jacob
Itormented Beth by taking tiny bites of my pie and chewing as slowly as possible.
“Grr. Jacob.” She finished her pie in three bites and marched off to fish.
After a few long swigs from the canteen, I cleared my throat with great ceremony.
“First things first,” I said. “My compliments, Jo, that was the best batch of hand-pies ever created.”
Jo acknowledged my praise and settled back, her head propped on a rolled-up towel.
Vee stayed beside me, arms wrapped around her legs, chin resting on her knees.
One green eye watched me steadily, the other hidden behind a loose lock of hair.
Something about the way she looked at me balanced the heat of the sun on my back.
I gazed out over the familiar water and took a deep breath.
With Vee beside me, words rose as if they’d been waiting, and the story flowed out over my lips as naturally as an exhale.
“Long before this was called Harmony Lake or Jensen Cove, this was Sioux land.
Early settlers and traders found this to be a place of peace.
A place of visions and healing, supposedly blessed by generations of medicine men and elders.
They spoke of a wise woman and her close connection to these waters.
“Fur traders reported dancers along the shore, their drums echoing over the water for days on end. When the first white settlers appeared, a treaty was made naming this neutral ground where peace would always exist between us and the Sioux. The name ‘Harmony Lake’ is meant to be a reminder of that promise.”
As I recounted the story, I glanced around the group.
Erik and Beth watched bobbers as they floated out beyond the dock, ready to spring into action the moment one dipped.
Jo had gone still, her eyes closed.
And Vee—she watched me with a wistful curve to her lips.
I continued with the story but held Vee’s gaze.
Spoke my words to her—for her. My confidence rose with every breath of the tale.
“As our ancestors homesteaded and cultivated the surrounding land, the Sioux moved westward, but this lake has remained a wild and mystical place. Legend grew among the settlers of a beautiful lady inhabiting the waters. Her presence was not sinister but rather mysterious and untamed. I haven’t seen her myself, but she is said to have pale, glowing skin, which is visible deep underwater as she is unburdened by clothing. ”
Vee’s eyes widened at this detail, and she shifted her gaze toward the water.
I laughed quietly.
“The Lady has thick, dark, flowing hair that drapes about her like a shadow when she is on the shore, and her eyes are the blue-green of the deep water and able to see into the future. We know her as the Lady of the Lake. Most years, there is talk in town of at least one sighting. The Johnson boys swear they saw her pass within a few feet of their boat last summer. Many a local has looked for a sign from her along the shores of Harmony Lake after asking for her wise counsel in a world full of uncertainty.”
Vee shifted toward me, leaning on one hand. “Have you ever seen one of her signs?”
“Well, now… That’s a personal question,” I said. “Most folks around here have asked the Lady for a sign at one time or another. But as for answers…” I shrugged. “That’s something between you and the Lady.”
The others nodded in agreement.
“How does it work?”
I leaned in, swallowed. “When you have a question for the Lady, you clear your mind at the water’s edge. You focus your question on a small token or gift for the Lady. A gift you will toss into the lake. The gift should be something you have grown or shaped with your own hands. You understand?”
My hand covered hers before I realized what I was doing. A brief, warm touch. I pulled my hand back, more startled than I should’ve been.
Vee nodded, deep in thought. “How does she answer?”
“You come back to the same spot over the next week and look for something the Lady has left behind—a twig pointing a certain way, a special rock, lake weed in a certain shape, a feather, a snail, even a dead fish. Her answer isn’t loud, but you’ll know it when you see it.
Only you will recognize the sign and know what it means. ”
As I spoke, an old memory rose up sharp and sudden.
The maple branch. The one I’d found so many years ago.
One end bare, the other tipped with fiery red leaves.
I’d asked the Lady which direction my future lay.
At the time, I’d wanted to know if I should go east or west when I left Harmony Lake on my grand adventure.
But for some reason, I had not asked the Lady to choose east or west. I had asked about my future.
The branch had pointed west, straight along the train track.
Something unsettled me. Before I knew it, I was on my feet, pacing to the spot on the beach where I’d found the Lady’s branch. I remembered the exact angle it had pointed back through the trees. Slowly, I pointed myself in that direction.
My perspective shifted, strange and weightless, as if I’d slipped out of my own skin.
I saw myself from above, a small figure with my back to the lake, facing the trees on the bank.
Beyond the bank lay the parallel lines of the train track and the green of the alfalfa field at the base of Jensen’s hill.
And the line from my chest to the place where Vee had fallen from the train was straight as a drawn arrow.
My stomach flipped. I blinked hard, but couldn’t clear the image from my mind. Coincidence. Nothing more. But it felt like giant puzzle pieces locking into place.
My hands went slick with sweat. But it was only attraction.
That was all. She was beautiful. Any man who saw her would feel the same.
My dreams of traveling the rails, seeing the world, and finding my future didn’t include a woman, no matter how contagious her laugh or resilient her spirit. They couldn’t. Not her. Not now.
I stumbled back toward the blanket, ignoring the foolishness flooding my mind.
Before I reached the blanket, Vee stood without a word and disappeared into the tall grass along the path. When she returned ten minutes later, she held a small bouquet of purple and white wildflowers with long blades of grass woven around the stems. It was clever, neat work.
She didn’t stop at the blanket, didn’t look at me as she passed—only walked to the water’s edge. She sat on a smooth rock for several minutes, staring intently at the flowers.
The others exchanged looks, but no one seemed surprised.
I suspected what she would ask the Lady, but it wasn’t my place to ask.
When she finally stood, she swung her arm and sent the bouquet arcing over the lake. The flowers spun in the air, plopped onto the surface, and sent ripples widening in perfect rings. Vee watched the bouquet sink slowly beneath the water.
Beth yelped, “Got one.” She hauled back on her rod, the line slicing zigzags across the water as the fish fought. Erik scooped a large walleye into the net.
Vee clapped in delight and trotted over to admire the catch.
Two hours later, Erik carried a stringer of four fish back to the house, one of which Vee had landed herself with Beth’s coaching and wide grin.
The warm May day stretched long as we made our way home. Vee strolled beside me, our shoulders brushing now and then as we ambled along the wagon path. My eyes kept drifting to her, but she looked thoughtfully at the surrounding farmland, unaware of my attention.
When we reached the spot where I’d scooped her into my arms earlier, she slowed and turned to me. Her lips twisted in a smirk, and she raised an eyebrow in challenge.
I sheepishly offered my elbow, and she laughed.
The warm sound of her amusement struck an answering chord in my belly.
Made me want to hear it again. She threaded her arm through mine.
Her gaze landed on a cornfield. Straight, tidy rows of young plants cast long shadows, promising the growth to come.
“Must be satisfying,” she said, “to bring order and control to the chaos of nature.”
I shrugged. “Chaos often wins.”
She laughed. “You have a master plan, though?”
“You could call it that. But there’s no way to plan for everything—storms, drought, grasshoppers, prairie fires, broken equipment. Most of my life is reacting to whatever comes. If only the grasshoppers would obey my commands.”
She glanced at me and said, “But then you nudge everything back on course, reassert control.”
I shook my head. “Control? Every day, I’m humbled by the obstacles I face, well aware of my limitations.”
Vee tilted her head. “At least we have control over our actions.”
She chose hope. We started across the farmyard as the sun dipped below the horizon, sending brilliant beams of light radiating upward from behind a low cloud.
On the porch steps, she paused and turned to me. “I need to thank you.” Her smile broadened. “For so many things. But for now, I’ll simply say thank you for a memorable evening. I suspect I haven’t had many nights more pleasant than this one.”
I didn’t know what to say. That stubborn lock of hair hung at the side of her face.
In mild horror, I watched a hand reach up and gently tuck the auburn strands behind her ear.
My hand. A single finger stretched out and ever so softly brushed across her smooth jawline as my renegade hand returned to its place at my side.
I’d never touched a woman like that. Not without thinking.
Mercy, I couldn’t even control my own hand.
“My pleasure,” I blurted and looked away, looked anywhere but her face. What had come over me? A pretty girl happened to fall, literally fall, into my life, and suddenly I was losing all sense.
Pa waited by the fireplace. “You two make a good pair. Com-pat-i-bility,” he said as we shuffled along in our usual bedtime dance.
“Not sure what you mean, Pa. Like everyone else around here, I’m just doing what I can to help. Good-Samaritan-like.”
“Mark my words, son. There are some people who fit well together. When you find that, you don’t let go.”
“But she doesn’t belong here,” I said. “Doubtless, she will soon be gone.” The words echoed through my mind, a stern warning aimed at my heart.
She could be married or betrothed. I headed for bed, but sleep was a long time coming.
Tonight I’d lost control of my hand. I feared my heart might be next.