by Davis, Mary
Copyright
ISBN 1-59310-607-6
Copyright © 2005 by Mary Davis. All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the permission of Truly Yours, an imprint of Barbour Publishing, Inc., PO Box 719, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683.
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All of the characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental.
All scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan Publishing House. All rights reserved.
One
Lorelei Hayes slung a tote bag over her shoulder and grasped the handle of her suitcase before following her friend Josie into the cozy lakeside cottage. She smiled inwardly as she entered. It had been ten years, but the memories of that one special summer came flooding back to her. Good memories. The last of her good memories.
She dropped her bags in the bedroom she would call home for the next few weeks and headed for the sliding glass door that overlooked Starvation Lake.
Home.
One short, sweet summer and ten long, grueling years. Why did she feel as though she had come home?
Ten years. It seemed so much longer. A lifetime. She drew in a refreshing deep breath, and a peace washed over her. For the first time in years. Home. Odd. This had never been her home. In comparison she had spent so little time here. So much had happened since then. She had only been fifteen. Now she was a broken woman forced to make decisions at yet another crossroads in her life. She hated crossroads. They usually meant pain, both physical and emotional, as this one had.
As usual she chose to retreat for a while rather than move forward. She gave herself until the end of the year. She was entitled to at least that after the fire that swept through the house, not more than three months ago, took the only two people left in her life. The smoke still lingered in her nose and lungs—and mind. A dizziness invaded her head. She shook free the thoughts of the house ablaze and turned them back to the lake and that summer her life changed. She had found God here, or rather He had found her. She smiled.
She watched a motorboat race through the water with a skier in tow. If she tried that now her hip would complain for a week. The boat motored past the peninsula and out of sight.
Her most vivid memory had to do with that peninsula the last day she had been here, almost ten years ago to the day at the end of August. She had swum out to the floating dock and stretched out in the sun. A small splash in the water next to the dock had caught her attention. Not really a splash, more like drips of water. She had turned toward the ladder as the dock tipped slightly in that direction. Over the side appeared a bronzed, lanky boy maybe two years older than she in red swim trunks.
His blond hair was slicked back. Water dripped from every part of him, puddling at his feet. He had run his golden hands over his face and hair to stop the water from streaming into his cornflower blue eyes as his gaze traced every feature of her face and her hair. She had sat mesmerized, gazing up at him. Who was this gorgeous hunk? And where had he been all summer?
After staring at her a moment, as if some internal debate had been going on, he made his move. He bent down and kissed her quickly on the lips. Before she could react, he turned with a grin and dove back into the water. She watched his sleek body glide along and disappear around the small peninsula.
She still didn’t know who the boy was, but she had escaped back to this lakeside cottage in precious memories whenever she could. It added up to years spent here. Why? She had other happy memories before this place. But here God had touched her. And she hoped God would use this lakeside cottage to work miracles in her once again so she could turn this new corner in her life and move on. This was where she would fight for the will to go on, for something to want to live for. Her future.
In her head she could hear the echo of Doug’s insistent voice. “What’s your praise for the day?”
She had no praises and nothing left for which to be thankful.
“Come on—think of a praise.”
Doug would keep after her until she ground out some word of thanks, some praise. But she had no family left. All her loved ones were dead. She had no home and no direction for her life. All she had was more insurance money, and she was not thankful for that.
“Just one praise.”
She hadn’t come up with a single praise since the fire. Her life seemed so empty. She had nothing left—except God. God, I praise You for—for being God. That was the best she could do. A familiar peace wrapped around her like a gentle hug. Thank You for not abandoning me.
She sighed with relief. It had been too long since she’d last acknowledged God. A smile pulled at her mouth.
A knock on the front door brought Lori back to the present.
Josie hurried to answer it. “Hi, Shawn!”
“Hey, Josie. How are ya doing?”
“Fine. Come in—come in.” Josie stepped aside to let an attractive blond man enter. “It’s good to see you.”
He wore a blue golf shirt and khaki shorts, and his features reminded her of a Viking. “I won’t stay long. I know you have to unpack, open up the place, and turn everything on; but when I saw the car pull in and you get out, I had to rush right over. A lot of the old gang are up here this weekend. We’re having a fire on the beach over at my place tonight. The last fire of the summer.”
“Who?” Josie asked. “Is Anna here?”
His smile broadened as he nodded. “And Rich, Melinda, and, of course, Garth, but he’s always here.”
“What about Ryan and—Audrey and the rest of the Kessels?” Josie said with a wave of her hand.
“No, just Garth. I think Ryan started back to school already. Med school must be tough.”
They prattled on about various others Lori knew nothing about and had no interest in. They would have the fortune of a normal memory and might remember her, but she wouldn’t have a clue about them. Her memory wasn’t what it used to be since the accident. Like pumice, full of holes.
“Yeah. Well, can we expect you two tonight?” The Viking warrior threw a glance and a dashing smile in Lori’s direction.
“How rude of me. Shawn, this is my friend Lori. She spent a summer up here with me one year. You probably met her then.”
Shawn and Lori stepped forward and gave each other a cordial handshake. His hand felt warm and strong in hers. He held it a moment longer than necessary.
“Lori, this is Shawn Hill. They have the place two doors down. You want to go tonight?” Josie sounded eager.
The morbid cloud that had hung over her the last ten years weighed heavier now without Doug. She didn’t feel like pasting on a smile and being around a bunch of strangers. “I don’t mind if you go.”
“I’m not going without you,” Josie said to her with compassion in her eyes then turned back to Shawn. “We may or may not make it.”
The blond stepped outside as Josie held the door open. “Everyone will be disappointed not to see you,” he said.
“I’ll talk her into it,” Josie said in a conspiratorial whisper.
“We’re gathering around eight, and we’ll start the fire after nine when the wind changes.”
Josie closed the door.
Lori watched as her friend turned her sad brown eyes and pouty lips on her. What defense did she have for that? Could she deny Josie a reunion with her friends? Besides, jus
t because she went didn’t mean she had to stay. “What does one wear to a campfire?”
❧
Lori stood on the outskirts of the group of happy, chattering people. Josie had introduced her all around and was now catching up with her friends, but Lori didn’t know any of these people. At least she didn’t think she knew them.
Shawn, however, seemed to take it as his personal responsibility to see she was not left out. He made sure she had a soda and wasn’t ignored. His thoughtfulness was starting to wear on her. He was a tall, handsome man with a firm, square jaw and almost transparent blue eyes. All he needed was the proper clothes, a helmet with horns and a sword, and he could plunder the Scandinavian seas.
If it were another time in her life, she would probably like the attention, but being social was not on her agenda for anytime in the near future. Maybe when they lit the fire she could fade into the shadows and slip away. She didn’t want to stay for the fire anyway. She didn’t like fire.
“When do you start the fire?” She could do her part at polite conversation. And it would let her know when she could plan her escape.
“After nine,” he said with a glance at his watch. “Twenty to thirty minutes more.”
Ten minutes later Shawn excused himself from her side to greet a latecomer. He, too, was tall and handsome, standing well over six feet, but his blond hair was a few shades darker than Shawn’s, not quite a sandy color, much richer looking. He had on a button-up blue plaid shirt with matching solid blue pants. He looked as if he’d just stepped off the cover of a magazine. Perfectly put together.
Something was familiar about him, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Had she met him before? Why did none of the others seem familiar? But then pumice was like that. Maybe, because of his good looks, she wished she remembered him and then would have common ground to hold an intelligent conversation.
That’s when she noticed the beautiful blond next to him. Her long silky hair draped over her shoulder in a mass of loopy curls. He had a girlfriend. Or wife.
Oh, well. She reminded herself she wasn’t sociable these days anyway.
Shawn and the other blond man retreated into the cottage with the bag he was carrying.
Her chance had come, alone at the edge of the group. No one was paying any attention to her. No one would notice if she disappeared into the night. Josie would understand. She glanced one last time at the door, which the new man had passed through with Shawn. What was so naggingly familiar about him?
Forcing memories that lingered below the surface had always proved futile, so she had given up on remembering anything from her past that didn’t jump into her head of its own accord. When she did remember something from before the accident, before the pain, she wrote it down, afraid of losing what little she had collected of her past.
She would give up on remembering this man, if indeed she had anything to remember. It had been a very long time since she had snagged a new piece of her history. She pushed it all aside and turned to leave.
“Hi. I’m Gretchen Kessel. I don’t think we’ve met,” said the blond girl who had arrived with the mystery hunk. Her smile appeared genuine.
Lori found herself shaking Gretchen’s outstretched hand, and soon they were talking like old friends. Gretchen was warm and inviting and seemed truly interested in Lori. As much as Lori wanted to dislike her, she couldn’t. So friendly and personable—and perky.
“You have to meet Bash.” Gretchen pointed to the gorgeous man she’d arrived with.
What had Gretchen called him? Bash? What kind of name was that?
Before Lori could protest, Gretchen took her by the hand and led her over to him.
“I’ll catch you later,” said a dark-haired man who was talking to this Bash. “I’m going to help Shawn and the others with the fire.”
“If they need someone who knows what he’s doing—,” the blond man started to say.
“I know. I know.” The dark-haired man raised his hand. “We’ll give you a holler, Mr. Expert Fire-Builder.”
“Hey, Happy. I see you made a new friend,” Bash said to Gretchen then turned his gaze on Lori.
Happy? It fit her.
“Garth, this is my new friend Lorelei Hayes,” Gretchen said.
In that instant, when his deep blue eyes settled on her, the image of a Garth ten years younger flashed before her, tall and lanky, dripping wet. He had changed considerably since then. He had filled out, and his hair had darkened from bleached blond to a honey gold. But she recognized his eyes. Those captivating blue eyes had studied her face for a moment ten years ago before—before he kissed her and dove into obscurity. She felt her cheeks warm slightly at the memory. Good thing it was nearly dark.
“Lorelei,” Gretchen said, bringing her back to the present, “this is my big brother Garth Kessel. Well, one of my big brothers.” Garth gave her a quick nod as Gretchen went on. “He’s a science teacher at the high school in Kalkaska.”
Garth Kessel, she repeated to herself. I always wondered what your name was. Brother? That had a nice sound to it.
“Lorelei’s staying at the Davenports’,” Gretchen continued, unaware of the mental trip Lori was taking. “She’s staying for a few weeks, maybe even a couple of months, while she recovers from a death in the family. She sold her place down in Florida and came up here for a while.”
How did she do it? How did Gretchen get so much information out of her in a short time? Hadn’t Gretchen done most of the talking? Evidently not.
“You have a pen, Bash? I think I have a gum wrapper somewhere.” The two went fishing in their pockets and came up with a pen and gum wrapper at the same time. Gretchen took the pen as she continued to tell Garth all she had learned about Lori. She put the scrap of paper on her raised knee and wrote as she talked without hesitation. Silently Garth held her arm to steady her. He never tried to interrupt her or quiet her. He just let her rattle on and on.
“Here.” She handed the paper to Lori. “If you need anything, anything at all, just give Garth a call. He’s a whiz at fixing things, can fix just about anything. He’s gone during the day at school—I told you he’s a teacher, didn’t I? Yeah, I did. Well, he’s home most evenings and weekends. And if he’s not there, just leave a message on the machine.”
She turned to Garth, thrusting the pen back at him. “You don’t mind, do you, bro? Lori’s going to be alone up here.”
Garth smiled with a slight shrug. “Call me big brother to the world.”
“He is so great, the best,” Gretchen said to Lori. “Can you believe no one has snatched him up yet? He doesn’t even have a girlfriend. I can’t imagine any woman letting him go. He’s a great guy.”
Garth rolled his eyes.
“Who is that with Anna?” Gretchen said. “Do you know, Bash?”
“Can’t say that I do,” Garth said, unaffected by the sudden change in topics.
“Someone new to meet. A friend to make.” Gretchen turned back to Lori. “It was great meeting you. I’m sure I’ll talk to you again before the night is over. See you later.”
Lori stared after the delightful young woman, watching her blond curls bounce as she went.
Garth chuckled. “She has that effect on people.”
Lori looked up at him. “Huh?”
“Gretchen. She tends to leave you speechless.”
“Is she always so—” Lori searched for a word that wouldn’t sound critical, for she really liked her.
“Energetic?” Garth offered. Lori nodded. “Pretty much. She’s up a few notches from normal. She gets that way when she’s upset.”
“Upset?”
His smile slipped away. “She just broke up with her boyfriend.”
Lori shook her head. “I never would have guessed.”
“Gretchen thrives on people. She copes with hurt and stress best when she’s in a crowd. Only when she is content and happy can she handle being alone for very long. Sometimes it gets her down to be alone. People energize her. When
she’s worked through her initial hurt, she’ll sort things out.”
His concern for his sister touched her in a place deep inside she thought was dead. “Not me. I like being by myself. That’s why I came up here.”
“Solitude has its rewards.”
His steady gaze unnerved her. She fingered the wrapper unconsciously in her hand. “Oh. Here.” She held the paper out to him. “You probably want this back.”
“Keep it.” He raised his hand like a traffic cop to stop her. “Gretchen didn’t speak out of turn when she offered my help. She knows I’d be more than happy to do what I can. If you need anything or have any questions, please feel free to call on me. Sometimes things break at inopportune times.”
“Thanks.” She slipped it into her pocket, knowing she would not use it. But what else could she do not to offend him?
A moment of uncomfortable silence stretched between them. She had been eager for the fire to be lit so she could slip away, but now she wasn’t so sure. “Why do they wait until after nine to start the fire?”
“During the day the breeze blows from the lake up to the cottages. Around nine or so the breeze blows out toward the lake, taking the smoke from the fire with it, keeping the inside of the cottages from smelling like smoke.” He looked comfortable.
She, on the other hand, had to concentrate on controlling her fickle emotions. She had desperately wanted to leave. Now she found that idea less appealing. “Does the wind do that every night?”
“Pretty much.”
“Why?”
He wiggled his eyebrows up and down and with a glint of mischief in his eyes said, “It’s magic.”
She smiled. It had been a long time since her mouth had turned in an upward direction. It felt refreshing. “I don’t think so.”
“It’s true. The fluttering of thousands of fairy wings causes the breeze. They’re invisible, of course, and live in the trees.” Merriment danced in his words, as well as in his eyes. “After sunset they come out to gather water once the fish have gone to sleep. If they gather water during the day, the fish see their shadows and try to eat them.” He made a jaw-snapping motion with his hand.