Fat chance. She argued herself back to her game plan. After all, what she was looking for wasn’t love at first sight, anyway, because that kind of love didn’t last. No, she wanted a practical love, partnering a distinguished successful man; the kind of love that two people of similar backgrounds carefully and thoughtfully constructed for themselves. That was reality.
Get a grip on your life, woman! she thought. Make it happen. Go out and meet people this morning, have a nice lunch, and then play golf with Peter this afternoon. Something will happen. You can do it. Jessie said so.
She put on some of the new lacy underwear Jessie had picked out for her, and then covered it sensibly with beige shorts and a white sleeveless blouse. Her chignon looked a little formal with the shorts, so she just pulled her hair back and wound it into a loose knot. When she left the cabin, the sky was the clear, bright, vivid blue that only happens in August. The heat was building, but the breeze was cool and the trees were full of birds singing their heads off. She was pleased with herself and with the beautiful day, and she hummed as she strolled up to the hotel for a late nine o’clock breakfast Then Valerie caught her.
“We’re going to do wonderful things today,” Valerie told her, drawing her into a group of other late risers. The hotel as represented by Valerie obviously wanted its guests involved in life. Although that had been Kate’s sincere plan, when suddenly confronted with the reality of mingling with others, she backed off, appalled.
“Not right now, Valerie,” she said, trying to sidle off.
“Tennis, croquet, golf, horseback riding, or tag in the pool-what’s it going to be?” Valerie drew her inexorably back into the group.
I’d rather die, Kate thought.
“What’s it going to be, Kathy, honey?” Frank was in front of her, dressed in a wide-striped T-shirt, bouncing on his heels. “How about pool tag?” He leered at her. “I want to see you in that bathing suit.”
“I don’t think so.” Kate backed away again. “Thanks.”
She turned and saw Jake, walking down the drive, carrying fishing poles, a small six-pack cooler, and a duffel bag of what looked to be cushions. He was wearing cutoffs that had seen much better days, an old, torn, checked shirt, and his cowboy hat. He nodded briefly at her and walked past her toward the woods, his hat tilted down to keep the sun off his face.
“Well, you have to do something,” Valerie said with a determined smile. “You can’t just sit.”
“I am doing something.” Kate jerked her thumb at Jake. “I’m going fishing with Jake.” She turned and walked down the path behind him, taking long strides to catch up.
“You don’t actually have to take me fishing,” she told him, knowing he’d heard. “Just let me stay with you until we’re into the woods and I’m safe.”
He didn’t say anything for a minute, and then handed her the poles without looking at her or breaking his slow, relaxed amble. “There’s an extra pole and room in the boat.”
Kate hesitated a moment, but when she looked back, Valerie was watching her.
And I’m paying a lot of money for this, she thought. I’m going to kill Jessie. Then she sighed and turned to follow Jake through the woods to the lake.
Chapter Three
The lake was small, secluded, and green. Pulled up on its stony shore was a wide shallow rowboat that looked like it had lost its paint before Kate had been born.
“This floats?”
“Oh, yeah.” Jake tossed the duffel in. “I wouldn’t jump up and down in it, but it floats.”
“There aren’t any seats,” Kate said.
“Somebody ripped them out once to use as oars.” Jake pushed the boat most of the way into the water. “Stack the cushions. If you’re still coming.”
Kate looked over her shoulder. Valerie was definitely out of sight, but she was also one of the most determined women Kate had ever met. Better to take no chances. She stepped carefully into the boat and dumped the duffel out There were half a dozen square blue plastic-covered boat cushions, and several faded-pink sofa pillows. She stacked three of the plastic cushions at each end and sat on one stack, her hands neatly folded in front of her. Jake climbed in opposite her and pushed off, rowing when the boat had floated a little way into the lake. It was the most energetic thing she’d seen him do, but even here he was lazy, rowing with long, slow strokes. She watched his hands on the oars and the flex of the muscles in his forearms, mesmerized by the slow movement of his body as he pulled the oars deeply through the water.
He rowed them into the shade of a willow on the far bank, tied the boat to an overhanging branch, and spread the plastic cushions he’d been sitting on behind him, topping them with the sofa pillows. Kate did the same with her cushions and leaned back to watch him.
Every move he made was slow, she realized, but exactly efficient. He picked up his rod, cast his line expertly into the water, and then jammed the pole between the gunwale of the boat and the oarlock. No wasted movement While she was still admiring his efficiency, he kicked off his shoes and took off his shirt.
His shoulders were broad, with the kind of muscle that came from everyday work. He leaned toward her and she tensed, remembering Lance, but all he did was hand her the second rod. “Beer’s in the cooler,” he said, and settled back into the cushions at his end of the boat, the pillows under his head, tipping his hat over his face until all she could see was the curve of his mouth under his mustache.
Kate looked at her rod.
“Jake,” she said softly. “There’s no bait on my hook.”
“If you bait your hook,” he said patiently from under his hat, “you will catch a fish.”
She waited for further explanation but he was finished. Evidently for Jake, fishing meant sleeping half naked under a willow tree. When she thought about it, it made sense. She didn’t like fish anyway.
She cast her line in and jammed her pole beside his and then made herself a nest in the cushions, stretching her legs out beside his, careful not to touch him. She leaned back and stared up through the willow, listening to the water lap the side of the boat and the wind gently stir the drooping silver leaves above her. The sound was narcotic, and after a while Kate began to relax for the first time in as long as she could remember. Maybe life doesn’t count out here, she thought lazily. Maybe time stops out here, and nothing matters. Maybe it’s magic. She smiled and watched the clouds, filtered through the curtain of willow leaves above her.
After a while she looked over at Jake. His chest was rising and falling in slow deep rhythms, and unconsciously she started to breathe with him, feeling the last of the tension drain from her body as the boat drifted gently in the water.
It was a shame he wasn’t her type. He wasn’t bad-looking, even with the broken nose, and he was certainly the most restful man she’d ever met. But he definitely did not fit her plan. He didn’t have a distinguished or aggressive bone in his body. In fact, looking at him now, she wasn’t sure he had bones in his body. He just sort of flowed everywhere. He’d get eaten alive in the city.
Still, it was nice to relax with a man for a change. Even if he was unconscious.
Her line jerked.
She sat up and grasped the pole, catching the reel as it played out. There was definitely something tugging on the other end.
“Jake,” she said softly. He didn’t move, and she could tell by his even breathing that he was still asleep. “Jake,” she said louder, but he slept on.