Drake barely got his tent up before the storm hit. When he saw the thick gray thunderheads rolling in and the sharp jagged bolts of lightning he knew he was in trouble. Paddling furiously for land, Drake ran aground on solid rock and leaped out, splashing his way to shore. Grabbing hold of the prow, he hauled the canoe out of the water before he lost it to the whitecaps. He didn’t just stop at the tree line either, but continued to pull the boat farther aground. Lashing it to a tree, he grabbed his tent and threw it down, unrolling it in a hurry as the curtain of rain beat down on the far shore and the waning light fell darker behind the oncoming storm. Feeding his shock cords through the guides, he raised the dome and secured the rain tarp.
“Oh shit,” he said, glancing back. It was almost on him.
Running for the canoe, he grabbed his pack and gear and chucked everything through the open flap, then went back to roll the canoe over and secure the other end against the oncoming wind.
He was just zipping the flap closed behind him when the torrential rains hit and the roof of the tent bent in from the wind, cutting down on headroom. Wonderful.
“Hold tight, baby,” he said, loosening his laces to take off his sopping wet shoes and socks.
From the looks of things, he was in for a long and bumpy ride. His mind strayed back to Haven and Charley; her comfortable bed, her warm welcoming body, her burning kisses. Did he regret making this an overnight? You bet your ass.
• • •
The storm passed through sometime during the night, the hard rain gradually tapering off to steady drips off the roof. Charley was in a deep sleep when she was slowly roused by a change in sound. Peeling one eye open, then the other, she listened carefully. That was definitely water but it wasn’t falling outside.
Charley rolled over and silently opened the bedside drawer and drew out her Smith and Wesson thirty-eight. Sliding out of bed, she tiptoed across the dim room and opened the door, cocking her head to listen. Someone was in her bathroom.
She tiptoed to the door and tested the knob. It turned in her hand. Taking two deep bracing breaths, Charley kicked the door open and raised the gun.
“Bad idea, dickweed!” she yelled then dropped her arms as Drake whirled around, soap running down his wondrous body, his hands buried in his sudsy hair. Foam dripped from his elbows.
Drake’s eyes were glued to the pistol hanging against her thighs. “You pulled a gun on me? You have a gun?”
Charley was staring too. His elbows weren’t the only things dripping soap.
“A girl has to protect herself,” she said finally.
“Do you even know how to fire that thing?”
“Of course. I’ve been shooting since I was ten and what the hell are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be back yet.”
Drake stepped back under the spray and slowly turned, rinsing off from head to toe. Charley was more than happy to wait for his answer. God, that man had a body.
He shut off the water and Charley tossed him the towel hanging from the bar next to her.
“Thanks,” he said, drying off.
“What are you doing here?” she repeated, feeling a little warm and anxious all of a sudden.
“I got caught out in the storm,” he said, wrapping the towel around his hips and finger combing his wet hair back.
His dark whiskers gave him a rakish, bad boy look. She liked it — a little too much.
“Don’t shave,” she said without thinking. Oh piss.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she said hastily, blushing like a fool. “You got caught in the storm?”
“It snapped my tent pole, soaked everything I had with me. As soon as it was light enough to navigate out of there I headed back.”
“And you came here,” she said with a little smile.
Drake’s eyes swept over her, head to toe, and he smiled back. “I came here.”
Such a simple admission and yet it made Charley’s grateful heart skitter and whine excitedly in her chest. “I’m glad. Are you hungry, thirsty?”
“Happy to see you?” he asked with a wicked grin.
Her eyes dropped to his towel and she laughed. “Pretty tough to argue with that. Come on.”
• • •
Drake woke up alone, curled around a pillow three hours later. Sunlight streamed through the windows as he kicked out of the loose sheet thrown over his legs. It was too hot for that now.
He grabbed the abandoned towel off the floor and for lack of anything else to wear, wrapped it around himself and went looking for Charley. She was just taking his clothing out of the washer and putting it into the dryer.
“Afraid you’re stuck like that a little longer,” she said eyeing the towel. “I don’t think you’ll fit into anything of mine.”
Drake laughed and slipped into a deep yawn. He rubbed his brow. “Yeah, I don’t think anything you have is going to work. I’ll wait.” He wandered over and wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head as she started the machine.
“Thanks for washing my stuff. You didn’t have to.”
“I know,” she said turning in his arms so she could hug him back. “When it’s nice out I usually hang my laundry outside but I figured you’d rather have your clothes back a little faster than that.”
“Good call,” he said swaying back and forth and taking her along.
“Mmm,” she sighed contentedly. “I ran for donuts while you were sleeping, or there’s cold cereal.”
“Coffee?”
“On the counter.”
“Then a donut will be fine.” He let her go and looked out the back window at her clothesline. “Mind if I hang my tent and sleeping bag out there?”
“Go for it.”
Right in the middle of tugging his water-logged tent and bag out of the back of the car Drake suddenly dropped everything in a sodden mass at his bare feet as he made a desperate grab for his towel before that fell too.
Watching through her side window Charley covered her mouth and giggled as he hastily rewrapped his hips, but then she burst out laughing when Drake finally realized Marian Baxter was staring at him from the other side of her kidney-shaped flower garden. He gave her a friendly morning greeting. She did not return his wave.
“Oh crap,” Charley said with a sigh and ran outside.
“Morning, Marian,” she called cheerily. “Have you met Dr. Carver yet? Drake, this is my neighbor Marian Baxter.”
Marian pursed her lips and humphed at the two of them.
“Good to see you too,” Charley said and rolled her eyes at Drake. “Never mind.”
She grabbed an edge of Drake’s tangled tent and together they lugged it through her back gate and Charley kicked it closed behind her, effectively cutting off the show for her prying neighbor. They’d already given Marian plenty to talk about for one day.
• • •
Thirty minutes later, Drake got dressed in front of the open dryer. Looking up as he tucked in his t-shirt he asked, “Anything on your agenda today?”
Charley shook her head. “I wish. I have no transportation and nothing to do.”
He gave her a sympathetic pout and leaned back on the washer to tug his socks on one foot at a time. “Good, because I want you to come with me.”
“What’s going on?”
“I still have three lakes to hit today and Cal and Jamie are working off their own map. What do you say?”
“I can’t paddle.”
“You don’t have to. I can manage. I just want you with me.”
Charley remembered hearing her brother say basically the same thing to Abby and it made her smile. “I want that too.”
• • •
They packed a lunch and grabbed a life vest for Charley before heading up into the woods.
Charley couldn’t help smiling at the gentle way Drake handled his car. Come to think of it, he was gentle with everything. She watched him closely, noticing for the first time that the guy just seemed comfortable; with himself, his body, the world in general. Even when she was riding high about something, she didn’t think she’d ever reached that level of contentment. What would that feel like? She tried to imagine letting her guard down, letting her hands drop open instead of always finding them unconsciously clutched into fists. She was defensive and aggressive, uncomfortable and impatient. Never had she made such a critical self-examination of herself and it wasn’t easy.
Was that really who she wanted to be? Was that why Abby and Dink never asked her to babysit even when she was available? They always called Abby’s sister Stacy. What were they afraid of, her self-control? She would never hurt, let alone yell at, little Jasper. She loved him, very much. So, maybe she wasn’t the warmest person in the world, on the outside, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have feelings and deep love for all of them. It was all swagger, that’s all, something she did to prove she was tough and independent. Yes, she liked to do things on her own. That didn’t mean she always wanted to be alone. Yet, there it was. She was more alone than she ever realized — an outsider in this little tight-knit community that had sheltered her, her whole life. What happened?
Drake looked over and frowned. “Charley, is something wrong?”
Charley shook her head and looked out her window, trying to hold it together, but she was at an emotional crossroads here.
He reached out and gave her shoulder an understanding squeeze and Charley started to cry.
“Hey,” he said pulling the car over. He put it into park and drew her close so he could hold her and Charley hugged the arms banded around her and laid her cheek against Drake’s sleeve and wept.
• • •
Drake didn’t intrude. He simply offered Charley a comforting warm presence and she melted against him and let it all out. She felt his thumb stroke up and down her arm and she smiled even as the tears rolled down her cheeks. She couldn’t remember the last time she cried like this. She might have found it embarrassing if she’d had to face him but he never suggested anything of the kind. She was still in control even when she was losing control. There was simply no other way to put it.
When it seemed she’d finally cried herself out, he kissed her hair and said softly, “There’s a bunch of napkins in the glove compartment.”
She nodded and reached for one, then a second so she could blow her nose too.
“What do I … ?” she asked, turning to him with red-rimmed eyes, holding out her damp wad of paper.
Drake smiled and brushed her hair back from her face. “Toss them in the back. I’ll throw them away the next time I gas up the car.”
She tossed them over her shoulder and they landed on the floor behind her.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me all of a sudden. I never cry. I’m falling apart here and I don’t understand.”
Drake scratched behind his ear and hazarded a guess. “Could it be hormones? You’re on birth control now.”
Charley blinked in surprise at the obvious. “That’s right.”
He raised an eyebrow. “But do you want to talk about what set you off?”
“Not yet,” she said softly.
“Okay,” he said patting her thigh. “I’m here if that changes.”
“Thanks.”
Drake took the car out of park and they pulled back onto the road.
Charley thought about what he just said, “I’m here if that changes.” Yes, he was here but for how long? Six more weeks? Eight? If she was lucky. The prospect of life going back to what it was after Drake was gone was something she didn’t even want to contemplate. She just pulled herself together. Hormones were crap.
It was far easier to blame the hormones for her unorthodox behavior than to admit her emotional involvement. That was a nervous breakdown for another day.