Lakeside Cottage (27 page)

She clapped her hands to call the dog back in, then went to stoke the fire in the stove.

JD
spotted wispy threads of wood smoke twisting up from the chimney of Kate’s house. In the dank gray of twilight, the windows of the house glowed a cheery yellow-gold, little beams through the midst of a rare summer storm.

Everywhere there were signs that summer was sliding to its inevitable end. The days were already getting noticeably shorter, and the lashing storm was a fore-taste of gusty autumn. He rolled his shoulders back and rotated his head, feeling the fatigue of the hours he’d put in, working on his med school application. Yes, he was going for it. He had a time line for getting his materials in, including the dreaded “personal statement.” He knew he’d be putting that off for a long time. Ultimately, though, he’d do what it took, same as he had all his life. By the time he finished the process, UCLA would know more about him than his own mother.

Bad analogy, he thought. His own mother knew virtually nothing about him. In truth, she had been singularly uninvolved with him throughout his childhood.
Controlled by her addiction, she would sometimes stagger home after days of using, and look at him as if she couldn’t remember his name.

Those times stayed buried in the past—until he was thrust into the public eye. Her relapse had been swift and brutal, but fortunately he could now afford the best and most discreet treatment available. His visit had gone predictably. She was remorseful and determined to get better. One good thing about the clinic was its experience with high-profile patients. They guarded people’s privacy rigorously, and he was grateful for that. A part of him wished he could talk about it with Kate, but that was out of the question now, of course.

He had to go back, too. He’d promised his mother he would, and this time, he really did have an admissions interview scheduled. Summer was coming to an end, anyway. He hated the idea of leaving the lake, but it was time. The Schroeders were coming out for Labor Day, and although Sam had invited him to stay, he had no intention of intruding. It was time to get back to his own life. He hoped that by now he’d be an obscure, barely recognized has-been.

Restless, he decided to go out to the shed and mess with the boat for a while. It was finished, but he wanted the wherry in perfect shape for Sam and his family. He put on the overhead shop light and inspected the restoration job. The mahogany and oak strips, arranged in alternating geometric patterns, were now as smooth as polished stones, glowing with amber depths. The joints were clean and tight, the seams virtually invisible. The interior of the hull had seating for three and there was a tiny storage well in the bow. Once he reattached the rudder with the new hardware he bought, he’d be in business.

Despite the fact that he liked the work, his mood did not improve. As always, he was distracted by thoughts of Kate. He hated the way things were between them—an impasse neither was willing to breach. She was a reporter. The enemy. It was just as well he was leaving.

Maybe he’d been a fool to fall in love with her. But at least he’d been a happy fool.

He fitted the rudder and tiller in place as the last of the light disappeared. Still, the storm didn’t let up, beating relentlessly on the roof of the shed. The sense of being utterly alone here was strong as he stood in the cocoon of light cast by the overhead lamp. When he’d first come here, he had reveled in the vast sense of isolation afforded by the secluded lake. After all the attention, it was what he’d craved. He had gratefully sunk into anonymity, wishing he could stay like that forever.

Since he’d met Kate, his isolation felt completely different. It felt like loneliness.

He wiped his hands on a polishing cloth and stepped back to inspect the job. It was then that he finally realized all the work he’d done, turning a wreck into a beautiful, gleaming boat, meant nothing. Doing something well didn’t mean a thing. It meant only that he’d spent untold hours on this project. Now that it was finished, what next?

He was haunted by a sense of things left undone, unsaid. Finishing a project wasn’t enough, even though he’d wanted it to be. A relationship, he reminded himself, was not a project.

Kate, he thought. He needed to see her before he left. Aaron, too, and Callie.

The decision felt good. He closed up the shed and made a dash for the cabin. The rain descended in a thick curtain, soaking him to the skin and fogging his glasses.
He ducked inside and stood shivering for a minute. Kate had the right idea, building a fire. There was no other way to keep the place warm except with the woodstove.

The trouble was, the woodpile was outside, a good twenty yards from the house. He was already drenched. Might as well go for it. Grabbing a flashlight, he splashed across the yard toward the woodpile, gathering an armload of logs from under the blue plastic tarp. When he got back inside, he was not only wet but muddy and sprinkled with wood chips and sawdust. A brown wolf spider picked its way delicately down his arm.

JD figured maybe he should get cleaned up before going to see Kate. He opened the door and shook off the spider, then went back inside. As he stood dripping on the floor and wiping off his glasses, the stark gleam of headlights washed across the room.

He frowned. It was too dark to see who had come calling. Company? A lost traveler? Had he gotten Sam’s arrival date wrong?

He heard the faint thud of a car door slamming, then the stomp of feet on the porch steps. Putting on his glasses, he opened the door. There stood Kate, huddled in an oversize jacket and holding a faded golf umbrella. She shook it out, closed it and leaned it on the stoop by the door.

It was all he could do not to grab her, hold her against his chest, tell her every crazy thought in his head. “Kate—”

“JD, I—”

“Come inside.” He shut the door against the aggressive gusts. She looked windblown and bedraggled and beautiful to him. Yet her eyes were troubled. “What’s the matter?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Are the kids all right? How’s Callie?”

“Oh…” She smiled very briefly. “Callie’s great.”

“And Aaron…?”

“Fine, too.” She must have recognized the way he was studying her, with the probing, assessing look of a paramedic. “Honest.”

“So this is where I examine you all over and say, ‘Where does it hurt, ma’am?’”

“You don’t want to do that,” she said. “I might tell you the truth.”

“I can handle it,” he said.

“The truth is, I am hurt. What happened between us—that hurt me. And not seeing you, well, that hurts, too.”

“I know. God, Kate, I’m sorry.”

She folded her arms across her chest, a protective gesture. He didn’t blame her. She said, “You’re a mess.”

“I went out to get wood for a fire,” he explained. “Chilly tonight.”

“Uh-huh.” She shivered, glanced nervously around the place. “JD—”

“Kate—” He stopped himself. They were both so damn nervous that normal conversation wasn’t going to work, so he pulled her against him. “I’ve missed you,” he said. Then he kissed her, not gently but with a heated urgency that drew a startled gasp from her.

She pushed her hands against his chest and simultaneously pulled back. He wondered what he was seeing in her eyes—protest? Pain? Conflict? He refused to look away, silently daring her to object. Instead, she curled her fists into his wet shirtfront and went up on tiptoe, kissing him as fiercely as he had just kissed her.

When they came up for air, he admitted, “I was going to come and see you.”

“You were?” Her smile seized at his heart.

“I was going to shower first.”

Her smile changed into a look that was softer. Darker. “Why don’t we take care of that right now?”

It turned into a shower of record length, lasting until the hot water ran out. Then they moved to a heap of blankets in front of the woodstove by the light of the dancing flames through the glass. Kate’s lovemaking made JD wonder how he’d managed to stay away at all. She made love with a combination of passion and delight and a genuine affection he’d never felt from a woman before, and when he held her in his arms, he knew, for the first time in his life, the true meaning of happiness.

Much later, they lay tangled in the soft blankets and listened to the rain on the roof. He held her against him even closer than before, and the unfamiliar joy welled up in him. He shuddered slightly, unprepared for its strange power.

“Are you cold?” she asked, snuggling against him.

“No,” he said. He gathered her closer still and drew a quilt around them both. “I wish I’d been the one to come to you,” he said.

She shifted, turning so that her face nearly touched his. The firelight softly flickered over her skin. “It wasn’t a contest to see who blinked first.”

“I know,” he said. “I’m an idiot.”

She smiled and kissed him. “I suppose that’s part of your charm.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh. Irresistible.”

“I’ve missed you, Kate,” he told her again. Then he thought:
I love you.
He needed to tell her that, too.

“I’m no genius, either,” she said. “I guess…I went
into this expecting the worst. I guess I kept looking for a way for us to fall apart, and it became a self-fulfilling prophecy. I thought…you had to be too good to be true. So I decided you couldn’t possibly be for real. Dumb, huh?”

“Kate—”

“I shouldn’t have been so defensive,” she said. “You were just being protective of Callie and open with me. I love that so much about you. Your openness. Your honesty.” She kissed him again as his heart sank like a rock. She propped her arms on his chest and held his gaze with hers. “I love you, JD,” she told him.

Damn. Now what? What could he say to that? He told her the most honest saying he could think of. “Me too, Kate. I love you, too.”

She smiled sweetly, maybe a little smugly. “Just remember, I was the first to say it.”

“Does that matter?”

“Not to me. I’m teasing.”

There was so much more he needed to say to her, to explain, but it was late, and still raining, and he didn’t feel like talking at all. He didn’t want to ruin the look of wonder he saw in her eyes. There would be time enough for talking later.

They slept. JD couldn’t tell what time it was when something awakened him, though it was still dark. The rain continued its patter on the roof and the fire burned low, a core of glowing embers that cast a faint orange light over the face of the woman beside him. The unguarded beauty of her stirred him.
I love you.
Telling her had been the easiest thing in the world because it was the truest thing he knew. And to hear her say it to him…that was a miracle, plain and simple. The last thing he’d ever
expected, the last thing he deserved and the only thing he wanted. For now, he decided, for tonight, he would be happy. He wouldn’t worry about the difficulties that lay ahead.

He gently kissed her temple and lay still for a while, listening to the rain and the rhythm of his pulse in his ears. She shifted in her sleep, snuggled closer to him. It pierced him, the love and trust she gave so openly. He didn’t quite know what to make of it.

She woke up slowly and smiled the instant she saw him. Propping herself up on one elbow, she squinted out the window. “It’s getting light out.”

He saw the first gray threads of dawn creasing the sky above the mountains. “Still dark,” he insisted. “Go back to sleep.”

“The sun is coming up,” she said. “I have to go.”

“Why? Do you turn to stone by light of day?”

“No, worse. An irresponsible mother. I don’t want my son to catch me sleeping around.”

“You’re not sleeping around.” He tugged at the blanket, baring her shoulder. “You’re sleeping with me.”

“You’re going to get me in trouble.”

“This is trouble?” He couldn’t help himself. He had to touch her, glide his hands over the warm pale velvet of her skin. “Freckles are sexy,” he whispered in her ear. She shuddered and gave a little moan.

“That’s it,” she said, making a visible effort to climb to her feet. “I’m out of here.” She started pulling on her clothes. She had this crazy red bra that made him want her all over again, but he could tell she was agitated now, eager to get home.

He got up and felt her eyes on him. “It’s that underwear of yours,” he said. “Can’t help myself.”

“Get dressed,” she ordered, blushing. “Hurry.”

He reluctantly pulled on a pair of jeans and hastily zipped them. Then he bent to add a log to the fire. It flared up, gilding everything in its path.

She was still watching him as she pulled on her thick wool socks and combed her hair with her fingers. “We need to work on your conversation skills. You hate talking about yourself, don’t you?”

She had no idea. “I’ll tell you anything you need to know,” he said. It was time, past time, to come clean with her.

“Good. I’ll hold you to that.” She finger-combed her hair, which only made it messier. Sexier.

“You’re beautiful, Kate,” he told her.

“Uh-huh.” She stuck her feet into rubber garden clogs.

“I mean it. Just like this, in a sweat suit that doesn’t fit and plastic shoes.”

“It must be true love, then. You’re crazy.” At the door, she stopped and turned back to him. “Maybe I can steal away again tonight. We’ll work on those conversation skills of yours.”

He hesitated. Of all the lousy timing. “I won’t be here tonight.”

Her eyes showed a flash of Irish temper. “Already change your mind about me?”

He stepped closer, caught her in his arms. “Nothing like that. I’m going back to L.A., and Sam is bringing his family out here for Labor Day. I’m heading for Seattle tonight. Flying out early tomorrow morning.”

Her face fell. “Tomorrow? But we’ve only just—”

He pressed his finger to her lips. “I know. I’m sorry.” He wanted to tell her that he’d be back, that they could sort things out and he’d explain everything to her, but he wasn’t used to making promises, not to anyone.

“So you’re just leaving?”

“Yes. This was never supposed to be permanent.”

“I see. And were you planning on coming back?”

“No.”

She flinched.

He gathered her against him. “It’s true, Kate. I wasn’t going to come back. But now…” He stopped to kiss her softly. “Now I know I have a reason to.”