Chapter 19
Present day
“Ahoy matey!” Mr. Cavendish called as he pulled the resort’s motorboat up to the dock.
“Ahoy there!” Lauren smiled at the couple as she walked the pier, Graham at her side, his tail swishing at the new arrivals.
Lauren caught the lines Mrs. Cavendish threw and tied up the boat. “Have a good ride?”
“It was just beautiful,” Mrs. Cavendish said. “Perfect temperature, and the trees are just gorgeous this morning.”
“The boat handled beautifully. We were able to take a couple tributaries back into the woods.”
“We felt like Lewis and Clark.”
Lauren laughed. She’d discovered some of the tributaries that ran into the lake but hadn’t quite trusted her boating skills
to maneuver one.
“The gas is below a quarter tank.”
“Thanks, we’ll fill it up.” She helped the Cavendishes onto the pier, where they removed their life vests, then gave Graham
the attention he practically begged for.
The sixtysomething couple had come for the fall foliage, and the mid-October display did not disappoint. In the past week
and a half, the color had trickled down the mountains into the valley. Vibrant hues now lined the lakeshore, delighting tourists
and locals alike.
“We’d better go change,” the woman said. “We took your advice and made a reservation at The Landing tonight.”
“Have a wonderful time,” Lauren called as the couple made their way back to their cabin. She’d never been to the town’s most
extravagant restaurant, but she’d heard great things. Or maybe she had been to the restaurant and just couldn’t remember. She gave her head a shake. It was so strange when your brain kept secrets
from you.
She gave the boat a glance. The cabins would be full this weekend and someone would want to take a ride. She needed to gas
it up but wasn’t sure how. Likely, she’d been taught over the summer, but that was no help now. Tom and Tammy had taken their
own trip to the mountains to enjoy the foliage and Meg was off-site today. Maybe Jonah would have a moment.
The idea didn’t offend her as it would’ve several weeks ago. At six weeks removed from her accident, she still hadn’t retrieved
a single memory from the summer. But ever since witnessing Jonah’s grief on the basketball court—and his subsequent apology—their
relationship had shifted into new territory. They chatted easily and occasionally texted. She was beginning to see what she
might’ve admired in him before—she just wasn’t willing to pursue a romantic relationship with him now.
She whipped out her phone and sent him a text. The motorboat needs gas. Do you have a minute to show me how?
She stored the life vests under the bench seats, then returned to her cabin for a quick cup of coffee. By the time she was
halfway finished, Jonah’s text came in. I can meet you at the dock in five.
Sounds good. She fixed her ponytail and checked her minimal makeup in the mirror. What was she doing? She was only going to fill up the
boat. Giving her head a sharp shake, she donned her shoes.
“You’re staying here this time, buddy.” She ruffled Graham’s fur. The dog had been on the go with her all morning. “You need
a nap.”
She grabbed her phone and headed outside. The sun shone through the colorful canopy, dappling the ground with golden light. Minutes later she stepped from the shade just as a cloud moved over the sun, chilling the air.
When she reached the dock, Jonah was already standing at the end and staring over the lake, hands braced on his slim hips.
She had to admit he cut a fine form in his snug faded jeans and sweatshirt. She could certainly see why that writer had been
obsessed with him last week. Lauren had never been so glad for a guest’s departure.
Her feelings on the subject were confusing—and not something she cared to explore on this beautiful October day.
The shaking of the pier gave away her arrival. Jonah turned, a welcoming smile curling his lips. “The colors are especially
vibrant this year.”
“They’re beautiful all right. And we have eight cabins full of people coming this weekend to enjoy them.”
“They’re in for a treat.” He assisted her into the boat.
“Sorry if you already showed me how to do this. Hope I didn’t interrupt your studies.”
“I don’t mind showing you again. Good excuse to get out on the water.”
They slipped on their vests. Then he took the captain’s seat and started the motor. A moment later they were cutting through
the choppy water, heading for the gas docks on the other side of the lake. At the steady pace he maintained, the trip would
take about twenty minutes.
She was glad she’d put her hair back, though some strands had come loose and now fluttered around her jawline. Jonah’s hair
was too short to do much more than ruffle a bit. He’d shaved this morning and his jawline appeared as smooth as silk. She
could almost feel the softness of his skin, the heat of his flesh, against the pads of her fingers. Her fingers twitched and
she chalked it up to the forgotten archives in her brain.
Get a grip, Lauren.
She shifted to the view ahead of them. There weren’t many boats out today—surprising since it was a Friday. But then it was only eleven. Anyway, she hardly minded that they had the lake mostly to themselves.
She cut a glance at Jonah, who navigated the narrow pass under the bridge with the confidence of a man who’d been boating
his whole life. He was competent and hardworking. She could’ve admitted that even back in the early days when she’d considered
him a thorn in her side. He clearly loved the resort and anticipated the day he’d run it full-time. This was home for him.
“How’s your schoolwork going?” she asked over the hum of the engine.
“Fine, I guess.”
She knew from Meg that he was an A student. Learning came easily, but then he’d been raised in this business. He probably
knew from experience the things most of the other students were learning from textbooks. “At least you’re almost finished.”
“December can’t come soon enough.” Before the words were out, he flinched.
She would be leaving in December, and that must hurt him a great deal. She didn’t relish the thought of bringing him pain.
He didn’t deserve it. But there was nothing she could do—except change the subject.
“So what’s up with the dinner napkins?” That’s the subject you choose?
He glanced her way. “What?”
“I was looking through some things in my closet and came across a few dinner napkins.”
His jaw clenched as he stared at the waterway ahead. For a moment she thought he wouldn’t answer. “They’re... souvenirs,
I guess you’d say.”
“Okay...”
His shoulders rose and fell on a sigh. “Our first real date was at Ollie’s. When we got in the truck afterward, you realized you’d accidently grabbed the napkin along with your sweater. You kept it as a memento. So the next time we went to a restaurant with cloth napkins, I swiped one of them as sort of a joke.”
“You stole a napkin,” she accused.
“I left a big tip.”
“And the napkin-swiping became a thing.”
He gave a wistful smile. “Right.”
A chill ran over her arms. But it wasn’t because of their conversation. A thick gray cloud had rolled over the sun and the
temperature quickly dropped.
Jonah glanced up at the sky, frowning. “I forgot to check the weather before we left.”
“I checked earlier, but there was only a small chance of rain.” One thing she’d learned though—thunderstorms seemed to crop
up quickly around here.
A few droplets splattered her arms. A little rain was nothing to worry about. But the sky was darkening and that cloud coming
over the mountains appeared more threatening than she’d like. “I guess that’s why no one’s out here today.”
A low rumble sounded in the distance.
Jonah gave his head a shake, clearly berating himself. “We’d better head for shore.” He throttled up and the boat took off,
veering off to the right toward the closest shoreline. It was an uninhabited stretch of land. Since there wasn’t a house for
a good half mile in either direction, perhaps the property wasn’t suitable for building.
The rain picked up and she watched the sky warily. A bolt of lightning cut through the clouds to their west.
Hurry, hurry.
But they were already headed full throttle toward shore. There was nothing else he could do. The rain became a deluge, dripping
down her face and arms.
A minute or so later they neared the shore. But rather than pull up through the lily pads, he entered the mouth of a tributary she hadn’t noticed at first as it was hidden by the draping foliage of a weeping willow. They ducked beneath it and the world dimmed and cooled in the shade of the forest. At least they were somewhat sheltered from the rain now.
He slowed the boat, following the stream into the woods. “There’s an old trapper’s cabin just up ahead—or at least there used
to be. My dad and I came across it years ago when we were fishing.”
She tried to wipe the rain from her face, but her hands were soaked. Jonah had fared no better. His sweatshirt clung to him
like a second skin, and rivulets of water ran down his neck and under his shirt.
He shifted into neutral and guided the boat to a tiny pier jutting out from the grassy bank. When they neared it Lauren grabbed
the line and jumped onto the rickety dock. She secured the boat.
They left their vests and dashed through the clearing to the trapper’s cabin. The building was more of a shack, maybe ten
by twelve, made of rough-hewn logs and covered with a tin roof. One small window was visible from the front. When they jumped
up on the stoop, Lauren was glad for the shelter of a roof.
A crack of thunder reverberated through the valley. She wiped the water from her face and watched Jonah do the same. His hair
was plastered to his head, his wet lashes clumped together. She surely looked just as ridiculous. But she was so relieved
to be out of danger, she couldn’t care less.
Their gazes connected and they burst out laughing.
“You look like a drowned rat,” she said.
“I feel like one.”
“We might as well have gone swimming.”
“The lake water is probably warmer than the rain. At least we’re safe.” He glanced at her arms. “You’re cold. Maybe there’s
firewood inside.”
“If we can even get in.”
He tried the door and found it unlocked. It gave an ancient groan as he swung it open. They entered to the smell of must and age and the cacophony of rain on the metal roof. Light from the lone window parted the gloom. The only furnishings were a rustic table with two chairs, a wooden bunk, and a fieldstone fireplace.
“Hallelujah,” he said.
She spotted the stack of wood just as he did, her gaze homing in on an old pack of matches. “And a fire source too.”
“Thank God. It’s been a long time since I’ve tested my Boy Scout skills.”
A smile lifted her lips at the thought of him as a boy earning his badges. “I’ll bet you were a good one.”
“An Eagle Scout, as a matter of fact.” He leaned into the firebox. “Let’s hope there’s not a nest in the flue.”
At the mention of critters she scanned the room, relieved to find no evidence of rodents. “How will we know?”
“The place will fill with smoke.”
He looked up the chimney. “Great. Maybe we’ll be subjected to all the elements today.”
“I see daylight. That’s good news.” He started stacking the logs.
She spotted an empty cardboard box in the corner and tore it into pieces.
“Good thinking.” He lit one of the sections and held it inside the fireplace. “Great news, the smoke’s going up.”
She handed him the rest of the cardboard. “Since you’re the Boy Scout.”
“The logs are pine and they’re good and dry, so they should light easily.” He stuffed the cardboard under the wood and lit
them with a match. Moments later the pile caught fire. “Shouldn’t take long to warm this place up.”
They kicked off their shoes and set them on the low hearth. Thankfully, their socks were still dry.
Lauren glanced around, rubbing her chilled arms. “Who owns this place anyway?”
“It’s state property, mostly just set aside to preserve nature. Otherwise, we humans tend to put up buildings on every square
inch.”
She walked to the gridded window. Outside the trees shimmied under the wind and rain pelted the ground. The sky was a gray
abyss. “How long do you think the storm will last?”
“No idea.” He pulled out his phone, and a moment later he frowned. “No reception.”
She checked hers. “Me either.” No surprise. “Everyone has checked in for the weekend except one couple coming from Maine.”
“What’s the name?”
“George and Alice Chaney.”
“Ah, the Chaneys. They’re regulars. They’ll just head straight to their cabin when they arrive.” Since they kept the cabins
unlocked, that’s what all the regulars did.
“Still, I wish we could get ahold of Meg.”
“The guests will be fine. Anyway, I’m sure the storm will clear up soon.”
She hoped he was right. The fire was burning strong now, crackling and popping.
“Too bad we don’t have dry clothes. I’m soaked to the skin.”
A moment later he whipped off his sweatshirt.
Lauren’s heart faltered until she saw the T-shirt under it. He stripped off the white tee. “You can wear this. It’s still
dry.”
She avoided staring at his chest. And those abs. How could her brain have forgotten those? Oh, he was holding out the shirt.
“Uh, thanks.”
He put the sweatshirt back on and turned purposely to face the fire.
Right.
She moved back into the shadows of the room before she peeled off her soggy shirt and dropped it onto the bunk. Then she slipped on the dry tee that was still warm from Jonah’s body. The raw male scent of him washed over her, triggering something. Not a memory. More like a feeling. Warm and safe and happy.
Home.
She cast a look at Jonah and, finding him still staring at the fire, she pulled the neckline up to her nose and drew in the
scent of him. She wished she could bottle it up and take it home with her. How could a scent she’d never smelled before warm
her from the inside out?
Feeling shaken at the thought, she grabbed her wet shirt and strolled back to the fire. She hung it from a couple rusted nails
someone had pounded into the stone mortar, feeling his appraisal.
“Better?” he asked.
“Much. Thank you.”
“You’re practically swimming in that thing.”
The shirt hung to her thighs, swallowing her. “It’s dry. That’s all that matters.”
“Doesn’t sound like it’s slowing up out there. Might as well get comfortable.” He pulled the chairs over by the fire.
They sat side by side, a warm golden glow lighting the space. The crackling fire and patter on the roof somehow made the room
feel smaller. They were alone and she was snuggled up in his warm and yummy-smelling shirt. Lauren crossed her arms over her
chest, a flimsy barrier against the intimacy of the situation.
They’d been very intimate at one time, whether she remembered it or not. How much had she told him about her childhood? It
wasn’t the first time she’d wondered. It wouldn’t change anything if she asked the question.
“I’ve been wondering...”
After a moment he glanced her way, patient and waiting.
“Did I ever tell you about my childhood? You know, back when we were... together?”
His eyes were steady on her. “Sure. You told me everything.”
“Everything, meaning...”
“I know about your mom leaving—moving out of state—with some random guy when you were five. That you never heard from her
after that.” His voice rumbled low and slow. “You told me your mom never knew who your father was. I know about the day you
were taken away and put into foster care. You had brief stays in three good homes and four stays in not-so-good homes. I know
about the rebellious period that ended when your tenth-grade English teacher convinced you that you were only hurting yourself
and that if you wanted to get anywhere in life, you needed to make some changes.”
She fought the urge to turtle beneath the collar of his T-shirt. He probably knew about much more than that. Had she told
him about the Stinsons, who’d viewed her and their other fosters as a paycheck? About Dillon, the foster brother who’d later
bullied her for over a year? And what about Erik Fordham, the foster father whose advances she’d narrowly escaped when she
was fourteen?
“You told me all of it.”
Shame filled her, forcing her to look away. The shame of having no parents, no family who loved her. The shame of all her
belongings fitting into a kitchen-sized garbage bag. The shame of being a year behind in school because of all the moving.
It filled her like a heat lamp, burning through her limbs and singeing her cheeks.
She pulled herself tall and jutted her chin as she’d done all those times when she felt less than. “Right.”
“And I’ll tell you now what I told you then.” Jonah waited until she met his gaze. “None of it was your fault. You were just
a child and the adults around you didn’t take care of you the way they should’ve.”
This whole subject took her back to that feeling of being trapped. Of having no say in her own life. Of being subject to whatever
the adults in charge wanted. She would never feel that way again.
“You were powerless.” His voice rumbled in his chest. “But you’re not now. Look how far you’ve come, Lauren. I’m amazed by your tenacity and your resilience. I admire you so much.”
Her first instinct was to brush off his praise. But she’d been working on that. She recognized the authenticity that shone
from his eyes and allowed herself to drink in the compliment. “Thank you for saying that.”
He nudged her shoulder. “And since you’re probably feeling vulnerable because of what I know about you... you should know
that I told you private things too.”
She gave a wry laugh. “Yeah, but I don’t remember any of them.”
“So let’s level the playing field.”
She smirked, imagining his biggest life trauma might be placing second for homecoming king.
“My mother died in a car accident when I was four.”
She whipped her head around to him, her smirk falling away. “But...”
“Tammy’s technically my aunt. My biological mother was Tom’s sister.”
She reared back. She sure hadn’t seen that coming. So much for those dusty archives in her brain.
“We lived in an apartment in Portsmouth, but I barely remember it. I remember a little about my mother, though sometimes I’m
not sure if I only think I remember. Mom and Dad have told me so many stories, trying to keep her memory alive for me.”
“What about your father?”
“Apparently he took off when my mom announced her pregnancy.”
“I had no idea. You Landrys seem like such a close-knit family.”
“We are. They’re my parents. I’m their son. Meg’s my sister. They were well into their thirties by the time I came along and
certain they couldn’t have kids of their own. When Mom got pregnant with Meg, it was quite the surprise.”
Lauren could hardly take it in. She’d thought Jonah had it so easy being raised here in this quaint little town at a family-owned resort. She’d thought him privileged. And maybe that had come to be the case later. But he’d had a rough beginning.
“Was I this shocked the first time you told me?”
He chuckled. “Yes.” His smile slipped as his expression warmed. “But it’s only fair you know all my stuff too. And I can relate—just
a little—to not quite feeling like you belong. Mom and Dad are really the only parents I remember. But Meg is theirs biologically.
Sometimes I wonder if they view me different than her.”
Lauren shook her head. “I don’t believe that.”
“I think Mom might’ve been happier if Meg had decided to take over the resort—it passed down from her side of the family.
It isn’t my family’s history.”
“But Meg loves what she does. And family is a lot more than blood—trust me, I would know.”
“Fair point.”
“You should tell them how you feel. Get it out in the open.”
He glanced down at his hands. “I wouldn’t want to put them on the spot. Or seem ungrateful for all they’ve done.”
Lauren got the feeling he was really afraid of finding out his fears were true. But she suspected they weren’t. “The Landrys
are your family in every way that matters. They obviously love you very much.”
“Oh, I know that. I guess the mind plays games sometimes.”
It was true. Right now hers was telling her that Jonah knew her much better than she knew him. She must’ve trusted him implicitly
to have divulged her painful past. Sydney was the only other person in which she’d confided—and that had taken three years
of friendship and two glasses of merlot.
What kind of magic did Jonah possess to have worked his way into her heart so quickly?