She gazed after her friend only a moment longer before taking the end of the net and once again taking her place by the edge of the lake.
* * * *
After coming in from the long day on the lake, Cassie made a beeline for the tool shed, where the single metal shower stall used by all six members of the research team, as well as the Torvolds, was housed. She’d hoped the hot water would melt away some of her bad feelings. Yet as she towel dried her headful of red curls, she was aware that there was as much tightness in her neck and shoulders as there’d been all day.
She came back to her room, hoping this would turn out to be one of the rare times she actually managed to be by herself. But it was only minutes before Laurel wandered in, standing awkwardly in the doorway as if she were waiting for something. Cassie pretended to be absorbed in folding the clothes she’d worn that day.
“You certainly seemed to have fun today,” she finally said, her tone crisp.
“Yes, it was fun,” Laurel replied. “At least, after my feet dried off.”
Cassie kept her eyes down. “I told you, Laurel. It was an
accident*.”
“Cassie, what’s going on with you?” Laurel demanded.
“Nothing. I’m absolutely fine.”
“You don’t seem fine.”
Suddenly Cassie whirled around. “Just leave me alone, will you?”
Laurel took a few steps backward. The expression on her face was one of complete surprise—and confusion. But Cassie barely took the time to look. She was too busy rushing out the cabin, desperate to get away. As she dashed toward the door, she noticed her backpack on the couch. Suspecting she’d want to stay away for a long time, she grabbed it.
How
could
she! Cassie was thinking as she raced down the stairs, into the woods. I saw what she was doing. Making a play for Trip, flirting with him all over the place.... How could she be so insensitive? I never in a million years thought my best friend would go out of her way to steal a boy away from me! And accusing me of having pushed her into the lake on purpose, right in front of him....
Her heart ached so badly it felt as if it would burn right through her chest. She ran and ran, taking care not to trip over the gnarled roots of trees or to get her foot caught in the clumps of tall grasses. She nearly slipped on a rock, but caught hold of the low-hanging branch of a tree just in time. By now, the tears were flowing freely down her cheeks.
How could she?
Never before had Cassie felt so strongly about a boy.
Sure, she’d had her share of crushes. And she’d had a few boyfriends along the way—nothing serious, but certainly enough to keep her from feeling as if she were missing out on the romantic scene most of the other girls in her high school had been so involved in. In college, she had yet to find anyone special. There’d been a few movie dates, quite a few long conversations over coffee at the Student Center, an intense two-week infatuation with her first-semester English professor....
But nothing like this. These feelings, the way her heart fluttered whenever she even thought about Trip, were new. Cassie found it impossible to let more than a few minutes go by without thinking about him. She felt as if they were linked somehow, in some deep, spiritual way that made them destined to be together. It had to be love. It had to be the real thing.
Of course, Trip had yet to make any acknowledgment of their connection. As a matter of fact, Cassie thought morosely as she stopped at the edge of the lake to catch her breath, he barely seemed to notice that she existed. But that was why it was so important that the two of them have time—time, without any distractions. Distractions like Laurel. If only Trip had the chance to get to know me, Cassie told herself. If only he’d step back and see me for what I really am.
She sank to the ground, taking deep breaths to calm herself down. As she did, she noticed how beautiful it was out here by the lake. She realized she’d been so wrapped up in getting through her busy days that she hadn’t been taking enough time to notice.
Suddenly she caught sight of a clump of water lilies, bobbing lazily in the lake a few yards ahead. Curious, she got up and wandered over to get a better look.
Resting on top of the lake, amidst large, flat, circular leaves, were huge yellow blossoms, so colorful and so perfectly formed that they barely looked real. Their petals curved upward to create a ball. Cassie had never seen such a dramatic flower.
Before she’d even realized what she was doing, she’d unzipped her backpack and was scrounging around for a pad of paper and a drawing pencil. It was only the third or fourth time she’d had a chance to draw since she’d gotten to Alaska. She settled in comfortably on the bank, choosing an angle at which the sun illuminated the flowers in just the right way. Without wasting a single moment, she bent her head over the pad and began to sketch.
As she did, her ruminations about Trip and Laurel and even herself faded away. The only thing that existed was the display of exotic flowers Mother Nature had so generously laid out before her. She was completely absorbed in getting the curve of this line just right, capturing the exact way in which that shadow sloped over the leaf and then changed its angle when it hit the rough surface of the lake.
Cassie finally became aware that somewhere along the line, her neck had begun to ache. But the tightness in her muscles was different than before. This time it was from physical strain—not emotional. She stretched, meanwhile looking around. She had no sense of how much time had passed. It could have been ten minutes—or it could have been two hours. She simply didn’t know.
In fact, at that moment there were only two things she felt completely certain of. One was that she’d drawn a detailed black-and-white sketch of the water lilies that truly captured their beauty, bringing them to life on the flat white page with almost as much drama as they possessed in real life.
The other was that she felt totally refreshed. Her mind had been cleared in a way that could only come about by having created something. Standing up, noting that the stiffness of her muscles indicated she’d been working for quite a long time, Cassie realized that the different parts of her life were suddenly in much better perspective.
She was still angry at Laurel, And her heart ached when she thought about Trip and the pointed way he’d ignored her all day. Yet, at the same time, she understood that there were other elements in her life as well. She had drawing and painting, which she loved more than anything else. And that, no one could ever take away from her.
She flipped over the page of her sketchbook, while looking around with a critical eye. Her gaze finally lit upon a clump of wildflowers. The purple lupine stood proud and strong, their delicate petals forming a graceful silhouette. Picking up her pencil, she started to draw.
* * * *
It wasn’t until Cassie felt someone tap her lightly on her shoulder that she realized she wasn’t alone. She turned around abruptly and found Dr. Wells standing behind her.
“Oh, hello, Dr. Wells,” she said breathlessly. “I didn’t hear you—”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He stooped down and peered over her shoulder. “What have you got there?”
“Oh, nothing.” Quickly Cassie pulled her sketch pad up to her chest. She could feel her cheeks turning red.
“If it’s nothing,” Dr. Wells asked, his expression one of amusement, “then why are you being so secretive?”
“Well . , . they’re just drawings.”
“Drawings?”
“Just some sketches I’ve done up here. Flowers, mostly. A few of animals.” Shyly, she added, “I don’t know if they’re any good or not.”
“Would you mind if I took a look?”
Cassie hesitated. She didn’t want to show them to anybody ... especially Dr. Wells. Still, she didn’t see how she could turn him down without looking silly.
Without a word she handed him her sketch pad. She stared off into the distance as he turned the pages, pretending to be lost in a daydream. She told herself she didn’t care what he thought. Still, her heart was pounding.
He’ll probably hand it back to me with a polite, “Very nice,” she told herself.
So she was surprised to hear him say, “My goodness, Cassie, I had no idea you were such an accomplished artist!”
She looked over at him, astonished.
“Your father mentioned you were interested in drawing and painting,” he continued, “but he never let on that you were so talented.”
“Thank you,” she mumbled. Then, anxious to break the silence that followed as he went back to the beginning of the sketchbook for a second look at some of the earlier drawings she’d done, she added, “I’m certainly getting enough inspiration. So many of the plants and flowers are unusual varieties, unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.
“Of course, I haven’t done a lot of drawings of plants. I’ve pretty much stuck to the still lifes you get stuck doing in art classes. Or landscapes. I’ve tried my hand at those a few times. I’d like to tackle some animals while I’m up here. As you can see, I’ve tried a few drawings of birds, but it’s hard because they never stay still for very long.”
“Yes,” Dr. Wells said slowly, handing her sketch pad back to her, “I think you should do birds. The plants, as well. And everything else you come across.
“As a matter of fact,” he said, looking her straight in the eye, “I’d like to assign you a special task.”
“What’s that?”
“I’d like you to provide documentation of the flora and fauna of this ecosystem.”
Cassie just blinked.
In response to her apparent confusion, Dr. Wells laughed. “What I mean is, we’re here to describe the plants and animals living around Wolf Lake. But our findings will be much more meaningful if we can back them up with detailed drawings.”
“What about photographs? Wouldn’t they be better?”
“Photos have important uses, of course. But they simply can’t capture structural detail as well as drawings. Here, look at this one.” He pointed to the last picture he’d studied, the drawing of the clump of lupine. “See how you’ve drawn these fine lines to show the vein pattern on the leaves here? It would be difficult for a camera to pick up such fine detail. That’s particularly true when you’re looking at something with a lot of color—like the dark green surface of this leaf—since color can overwhelm anatomical detail.”
“I see what you mean,” Cassie said, nodding.
“So how about it? May I start considering you the project’s official artist?”
“I’d love it,” she blurted out
“Good,” Dr. Wells said with a smile. “Consider it done. What I’d like you to do is make drawings of particular specimens I point out to you, but also to take it upon yourself to go around the lake, doing these careful detailed pictures of whatever catches your fancy. If something looks interesting and unusual to you, chances are that it’s something worth taking a closer look at. Does that sound acceptable to you?”
Cassie just nodded. She didn’t want to let on that for the first time since she’d found out she was going to be part of this research project, she finally felt as if she belonged.
Chapter Twelve
“Where are you going today?” Danny Torvold asked anxiously, skipping alongside Trip, Laurel, and Russ as they trudged from the cabin down to the lake. They were all laden with equipment and provisions for the day’s outing. Russ was carrying a particularly cumbersome load, a huge telescope that was balanced across one shoulder. Trying to be helpful, the nine-year-old boy insisted on holding one of the fish traps. It banged against his leg with each step he took down the rugged dirt path.
“Out on the lake, my man,” Trip replied. “Where else is there?”
“Can I come, Trip?” Danny pleaded. “I won’t be any trouble, I promise. Maybe I could even help! I know my way around this lake better than anybody else—except my mom and dad, of course. I could show you some really cool places—”
“Not today, pal.” Trip barely glanced at Danny. Instead, he focused on loading the fish traps he’d been juggling into one of the canoes. “Want to give me a hand over here, Russ?”
With dismay, Laurel noticed that the boy looked crestfallen. She was about to offer him some consoling words. But before she had a chance, Russ spoke up.
“Tell you what, Danny,” he said cheerfully. “I know we’ve already been up here for a while, but I bet there are still some ins and outs we have yet to discover on our own. How about giving me my own personal guided tour of this lake? I’m sure an expert like you could show me some great things.”
Danny brightened immediately. “You got yourself a deal! I’m ready any time you are.”
“How about tonight, after we get back?”
“Sure! Catch you later!”
Danny dashed off. Instead of the forlorn expression he’d been wearing only moments before, he looked as if he’d just been given a wonderful present.
“You certainly have a way with children,” Laurel commented, setting down the armful of equipment she’d hauled to the lake’s edge.
Nestling the day’s lunch in the back of one of the canoes, Russ shrugged. “I was just like him, once. Living on a preserve, alone most of the time.... Besides, it’s good for any kid to be made to feel important. Everybody knows that.”
“Not everybody,” Laurel commented, casting a meaningful look at Trip.
A moment later Cassie came hurrying down the path.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said. Her apology was directed at Trip.
“No problem,” he replied. “Her Majesty has yet to put in an appearance, anyway.”
By the time Mariah appeared—a good ten minutes after the time the group had planned to get going—the canoes were packed and everyone was ready to go.
‘That girl has an uncanny sense of timing,” Trip muttered. “The second we finish all the dirty work, she makes her grand entrance.”
Glancing up, Cassie’s expression changed to one of astonishment. “Where does she think she’s going?” she demanded. “A photo shoot?”
As Mariah grew closer, Laurel saw what she was talking about. Not only was Mariah dressed in an outfit that looked as if it had come off the pages of a fashion magazine, but she was wearing quite a bit of jewelry. In addition to a pair of gold earrings, glinting in the sunlight, she sported a long, dangling necklace and a thick gold cuff bracelet.