19. Viola
Viola
Ireleased Jacob’s arm and joined Jo and Beth at the edge of the cove, still thrumming with energy… and something else my memory couldn’t name.
We pulled off our shoes and socks where the little creek widened as it joined the lake, forming the cove.
At the far edge stood a wooden dock. Beyond it, a giant, gnarled weeping willow leaned over the water, its branches trailing like fingers.
Sunlight glinting on the lake’s ripples tugged at something familiar.
Erik and Jacob disappeared behind a large shrub.
Minutes later, they burst into view, stripped down to their breeches.
The brothers tore down the bank and out onto the dock, leaping in unison to grab fistfuls of willow branches.
Their wild yells cut off when they splashed into the lake, until they surfaced and let out high-pitched howls.
We waded into the shallows, hems lifted to our knees, toes sinking into the soft sand. The water stung at first, painfully cold. I balanced on one foot, the other lifted like one of those long-legged water birds. What were they called? The name slipped into another hole in my memory.
Soon, the cold water became a refreshing counterpoint to the heat rising on my cheeks every time I stole a glance at Jacob. I trailed Jo and Beth as they waded toward the dock, the lone barrier between us and the place where the boys splashed and floated.
“We could walk across the cove without getting our dresses wet.” Jo glanced back at me. “But mind the drop-off past the dock.”
We reached our goal and sat with our toes dipping into the water, backs to the weeping willow and the brothers. The dock’s wood was pleasantly warm and I was tempted to lean back and curl up on its inviting surface like a cat.
“Are you a swimmer, do you think?” Beth asked.
I shivered. “If so, I hope I usually swim in warmer water.” I glanced over my shoulder, but Jacob was nowhere in sight. “I don’t know how they stand it.”
Water splashed and churned below us.
Hands shot up, grabbing for our feet.
We shrieked and jerked our feet out of reach.
Jacob burst up before us with a great splash—so sudden it silenced the music in my head. This was no stolen glimpse. He filled my vision, bare-skinned and dripping. I should’ve looked away, but I didn’t.
“I have saved you ladies from having your toes nibbled off by the monstrous fish I brushed against under the water,” he declared.
“That was me,” Erik called from where he stood, dripping on the shore.
“Was it now? One can never be completely sure, not in these waters.” Jacob wiggled his eyebrows.
We laughed as water beaded on his bare chest. Something warm unfurled deep in my belly, startling enough that I pressed a hand to my middle.
“You think it was the Lady of the Lake?” Beth asked.
“Was me,” Erik called from behind the bush.
Jacob nodded solemnly to Beth. “Probably was the Lady. She does especially like this cove.”
“Tell Vee about the Lady, Jacob, please,” Beth begged.
Jacob raked fingers through his wet hair, brushing it back from his face. Something about the motion hinted at a memory I couldn’t quite reach.
“Yes, please,” I said. Was this strange fluttery feeling ordinary or extraordinary?
“Let me dry off first.”
They dressed while we spread blankets on the sunny bank. Jacob and Erik emerged from behind the bush and joined us. I sat facing the water, and Jacob lay beside me, propped on one elbow.
A sharp, playful trill flickered through me, impossible to ignore. My attention shifted between the man beside me and the strange movement of my hand on my thigh. Two of my fingers tapped an alternating rhythm in an impossible blur, though my wrist and forearm were loose. What was happening to me?
Jacob’s gaze followed the motion of my fingers until Comet arrived soaking wet and shook himself vigorously behind him. Our groans turned to laughter when Jacob shook his head right back at Comet, who sat blinking in confusion.
Jo passed around the palm-sized pies she’d baked earlier in the day and carried along in her basket.
Ravenous, I took a large, unladylike bite of the pastry. The flaky crust, tart filling, and sugar on top filled my mouth with happiness.
“Mmm! Scrumptious, Jo.” Had I ever tasted anything so delicious?
“Thank you, Vee. The filling is strawberry-rhubarb. Jacob’s favorite.”
Beth sat cross-legged next to Jo. “Lady of the Lake, Jake, remember?”
“The more you ask, Beth, the more slowly I will chew,” Jacob said. “Let me enjoy my pie in peace, and I promise you’ll hear all about the Lady.”
Then he winked, and it rang through me like he’d struck a major chord. A new song rose inside me, soft and hopeful, but whispering of trouble.