by Lyn Cote
“Good night, Pete!” the young counselor, his nephew, Tony, called back with a teasing tone.
“Good night.” Peter shook his head as he walked away. The opening day of the camp had been exhilarating, exhausting.
He strolled through the darkness lighted by the camp yard lights. As he passed it, he stared at the cafeteria, now empty and closed up for the night He tried to imagine how someone had slipped into the cafeteria and trashed it while the sheriff patrolled the grounds. Evidently the perpetrator had slithered in unseen and lain low whenever the sheriff had come through. He didn’t want to think how much money in food they’d lost due to the unknown vandal.
As he approached the lodge, his mom, wearing her favorite tropical print robe in hot pink and electric blue, opened the back door. “Son, time for you to come in now.”
He smiled. “When I was a little younger, I remember you telling me that a lot” He walked up to her.
“Dear, you look really down.”
The sympathy in her voice touched him. He gathered her into his arms. “I love you, Mom.”
“I know, dear. I love you, too.”
They stood together for a few minutes. Then his mom pulled him inside. “Thank God for Thea.”
“Why do say that? I mean I agree, but—”
“Didn’t the sheriff tell you she’s the one who saved the day for us?”
“Thea? How?”
“Well, I’ll tell you. She ran over, sweats over her pajamas, with Cynda to help me. After I saw the mess, I couldn’t function at first. Thea got me going and called everyone to come and help clean.”
Peter hit his forehead. “No one told me! I just thought Thea helped with everyone else.”
“Oh, dear I thought you knew. But how could you? We were all so busy all day. But, Peter, if it hadn’t been for Thea, Cynda and I could never have gotten everything ready for you in time! She organized everyone! What must she think of you for not even thanking her? I wondered why she looked a little down when she came over for lunch.”
“I’m going.” Peter walked back outside, irritated with himself. I should have asked about Thea’s part. But how could I have guessed that quiet, reserved Thea would break out of her shell like that? Thea called and organized everyone? And I didn’t even thank her!
In front of Thea’s door, Peter paused, then knocked lightly.
Cynda came to the door and looked at him through the screen. “Jerk!”
Peter drew in a deep breath. “Evidently I am one. Will Thea see me?”
“Probably. And probably she’ll be too polite to say ‘you, jerk’—”
“You’re probably right, but since you have and I have, please may I come in and thank her properly?”
“All right, but it better be good.” Cynda walked away, motioning him to follow her through the living room out onto the screened-in porch. “The jerk finally came over.”
“Cynda! That’s not a polite way to talk,” Thea objected. She sat on a wicker love seat on the unlit porch.
The sight of her moved Peter. He cleared his throat. “It may not be polite, but it does accurately describe how I feel. I’m deeply in your debt and I didn’t even thank you.”
Cynda cocked her head toward Thea. “Do you accept his apology?”
“Of course, I do.”
Thea’s warm, calm voice made Peter feel even more guilty.
“Then I’m off to bed. I’m expected early at the camp to do breakfast” Cynda walked through the open French doors back into the living room. She paused. “Oh, Peter, is your nephew Tony dating any-one?”
“Ask my mom. She’ll know.”
“Cynda, what about Thad?” Thea asked sounding curious.
“We’re just friends, sister dear. Good night.”
Finally alone, Peter stood looking at Thea and beyond her at the thin moonlight ripples on the lake. Just being near Thea filled him with a sense of keen anticipation. His feeling for her grew each time they were together. “I really feel bad, Thea.”
“Don’t. Please sit down, Peter.”
At her invitation, he sat down beside her, but he angled his back against the rolled arm so he could face her. Her white cotton shirt shone in the dim light and reflected a glow onto her face. One of her long legs stretched out before her. Her cool elegance came from deep within her and didn’t depend on any art she employed.
Thea smoothed her gold-tinged hair back. “You’re not in trouble.”
“I wish you’d just slugged me or something to get my attention.”
Thea chuckled lightly and leaned her elbow against the back of the love seat, making the crunching noise wicker made at any movement. “I don’t make a habit of slugging my neighbors.”
“Even when they deserve it?”
“You’ve got a lot on your mind. And after spending my morning at your kitchen—”
“My mom said you were wonderful, that you called up everyone and organized the whole operation.”
“She’s exaggerating. I just called the sheriff, Pastor Carlson and Aunt Louella to help. Lilly and Nan with Tracy came, too.”
“Aunt Louella and Lilly?” He longed to stroke Thea’s hair, to feel it flow silken through his fingers.
“Yes, isn’t it sweet? Mrs. Chiverton wants me to call her Aunt Louella and Mrs. Magill wants me to call her Lilly.”
“I would have guessed Lil would be more appropriate,” he teased, realizing his own voice had become husky.
“She doesn’t like Lil. She says it makes her sound like a dance-hall girl in an old Western.” Thea gurgled with laughter.
Her laughter filled him with joy. In wonder at her gentle spirit, he shook his head. Thea had remained calm like this when they had been caught in that rainstorm. He felt humbled by her sweetness. Contrasting her to Alanna, he now knew he’d loved what he thought Alanna was, not what she really had been. Completely without artifice, Thea radiated honesty and love.
He let himself enjoy the moment. He listened to the bullfrogs on the nearby wetland, watched the small boat lights pass by, hearing the chugging motors of the boats. Over all, crickets chanted. “Is Molly all right?” he asked at last.
“Yes, she was fine after she woke up. It really scared Cynda, though. She thought Molly was dead at first. This afternoon I called the vet and took Molly over, just to be sure. He said she was just fine.”
“I don’t like it Whoever did it might have given her too much and…” Feeling protective of Thea, he didn’t want to say it might have killed Molly.
Thea said softly, “I’m going to keep her in at night I’m sorry, but—”
“That’s fine. I don’t want to put Molly in danger. I never thought of someone doing anything to her.”
“Neither did I.” She paused. “When is this going to end?”
“I honestly don’t know. For some unknown reason, God is allowing this. All I can think is that someone is hurting badly. I don’t believe this vandalism really has anything to do with my camp. Someone is shouting for help, but who?”
“I keep thinking about Mr. Crandon losing his son this year. Do you think that he might have become unbalanced?” Her voice quavered uncertainly on the last word. “I’ve been worried that he and my grandmother…”
He gazed into her golden eyes whose clear luster shimmered in the near darkness. “Has she said anything—”
“No.” She took a deep breath. “But I discussed other matters from the past with her.”
Thea had questioned that old dragon? He chose his words carefully. “You mean like you did with your father the day we went berry picking?”
“Yes.”
Trying to read her, he asked, “How did she react?”
Thea smiled sadly. “She told me never to come again.”
He couldn’t imagine his mom saying anything so cruel. “That’s awful.”
“It’s exactly what I expected. I told her I’d come when I wanted to. I’m through with her telling me what to do—manipulating me.”
&nbs
p; His sympathy aroused, he reached for her hand. “I wish I weren’t so busy. I haven’t had the time to be here for you. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You don’t have to nursemaid me. I’m a big girl.”
“You’re a beautiful woman.” He drew her slim, delicate hand to his lips and kissed it. “Thea, I’ve fallen in love with you.”
Chapter Thirteen
She stared at Peter in the moonlight. Had he said the words she’d longed to hear?
“I love you, Thea. I don’t believe in love at first sight. All I know is every time I’ve seen you, been with you, you’ve become more and more dear to me.”
She looked down in confusion.
“I know it’s probably too soon. I should have waited.” He paused. “But I can’t hide my feelings for you.”
A moment passed. She looked up. “You love me?”
“I love you. Do you have any feelings for me? You’re so special.” He leaned forward.
He’s going to kiss me. She wanted his kiss, but she stopped him by pressing her fingers to his lips. “I’m not special.…”
“Yes, you are.” He drew her hand to his lips and kissed it, then he turned it over to kiss her palm. His lips touched the inside of her wrist.
Exquisite awareness of him rippled through her. She sighed.
He pulled her to him, but just before she reached him, he turned her and tucked her spine next to his chest. When he wrapped his arms snugly around her waist, she shivered.
“Cold?”
“No,” she said honestly, “it’s being close to you.” Is this really me in Peter’s arms? It’s too good to be true.
“I’ve wanted to hold you for weeks.” He buried his face into her hair and breathed in deeply. “Lily of the Valley will always mean Thea to me. Sweet Thea.”
With her cheek next to his, she moved against him, reveling in the support his broad chest provided her.
“Don’t try to get away,” he teased. “I’ve got you and I’m not letting you go.”
In spite of her uncertainty, she rested her head back against his shoulder. She trailed her fingertips along his bare arms, feeling his abundant, springy hair. “How can you be so sure you love me?” Her voice trembled.
He nuzzled the side of her neck. “You’re a gift from God. I’ve prayed so long for a woman like you. I love you. Tell me you love me, too.”
His tender touch glided through her like a violin solo—soulful, thrilling. He loves me. I didn’t dare to dream of this moment. Elation lifted her heart—for only a moment. Dark clouds floated over the nearly full moon making ghostly patterns of light and shade. “I’m frightened.”
“Of me? Of falling in love?” Brushing a gentle kiss against her ear, he tugged her closer to him.
“I don’t know.” If only it was just the two of us— with no one else looking at me, telling me I’m inadequate.
“You know.” His deep rich voice rumbled through her.
I want to be with you, but… She wanted to forget talking and just let herself float on the lush sensation created from being near Peter. She turned in his arms, came nose to nose with him. Intense awareness flowed between them like captured sunshine. She studied his lean, classically handsome face and became breathless.
He tilted his head, stroked her cheek with his silky eyelashes. He whispered, “Butterfly kisses.”
She shyly buried her face against his throat where it fit perfectly. Her thoughts fled and her heart spun a symphony from every soft emotion within her. The lyric sang, “Peter, Peter.”
Suddenly the call of a loon on the lake broke through to her like a cold splash of reality. She spun in his arms; once again she sat with her back flush against his chest. Her heart beat as though she’d run a race. She’d let him sway her, but her fears couldn’t be ignored.
“What’s wrong?” he whispered against her ear.
Could she put her hesitance into words? Dear God, we’re so different. How can we ever belong together? She went back to the verse that always soothed her. Lead me beside the still waters, Lord. Restore my soul. Give me Your answers.
Though feeling lost and afraid, she had to take them back to reality. She searched for a topic, then blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “I wanted to tell you about an idea I had for your camp.”
“Camp?” He sounded stunned. “You want to talk about the camp—now?”
Fighting her attraction to him, she said, “I was wondering if you’d thought of adding music to your camp activities?”
“Music?” His bewilderment was obvious.
She plunged ahead, “I have a few used guitars someone gave me—”
“Oh.” He paused. “Are you offering to break your neutrality?” He wrapped his arms more tightly around her and pressed his face into the curve of her neck. “You’ll support my camp now?”
His breath fanned her right ear and his rough chin rasped her cheek. She tingled wherever his warm flesh touched hers. “Yes.”
Peter spoke in the stillness. “I’ve waited for this moment.”
She pulled away trying to elude his overwhelming effect.
He tugged her back to him. “Now I can ask you. I was hoping to persuade you to go with me to a silent auction, a fund-raiser for the camp.”
“Why?” she asked, feeling warning prickles along her spine.
“I want to walk into the auction with you by my side.”
“But—”
“I need you.” His soothing voice tempted her. “It’s at a county club near Madison. It will be a special evening—if you’ll come.”
“But—” After her experience at the open house, this was just the type of function she dreaded. You don’t need me, Peter. You don’t see how shy, how inadequate I’d be in that setting.
“Please say you’ll go.” Abruptly he turned her in his arms. His lips played over hers, giving her everything and drawing every objection from her. A dreamy intimacy knit her to him. How she’d longed for his kiss, imagined his kiss, but more importantly—Peter needed her. She sighed, feeling weightless.
“Go with me,” he whispered against the corner of her mouth.
His persuasion overwhelmed her. “I’ll go.”
“How’s that?” Vickie handed Thea a mirror off Thea’s kitchen table. Vickie had come to do her hair for the silent auction.
Aunt Louella chirped, “I’m so glad I asked Irene how formal this auction was. Otherwise we wouldn’t have turned you out in style.”
Thea peered uncertainly into the mirror. She’d never had her hair done before. Vickie had swept her hair up on both sides into high combs, then had braided Thea’s long hair into several braids and had fastened them to her head in elegant loops at the back. Very chic, sophisticated. She didn’t look like herself at all. “Oh, my.”
Louella clapped her hands. “You look lovely, my dear.”
“Absolutely,” Nan agreed.
“Not bad,” Lilly said.
Tracy jumped up from Nan’s lap. “You’re prettier than ever!”
Thea smiled self-consciously and put down the mirror. Her anxiety over this evening had escalated each day since Peter’s invitation. She and Peter were opposites. His life away from Lake Lowell must be completely different from her modest life-style.
“This hairdo won first place for long hair design at the Chicago Hair Trends Conference last month.” Vickie sprayed the upswept sides one last time, engulfing Thea in heavy perfume. “Done.”
“Time for your dress,” Cynda ordered.
The women followed Thea into the bedroom. Garbed in her long white robe, she felt like a queen accompanied by her ladies-in-waiting. Tracy hopped onto Thea’s bed and folded her legs under her, Indianstyle. The dress hung on the back of the closet door. Thea reached for it.
Cynda beat her to it. “Allow me, dear sister.”
Thea slipped off her robe.
Tracy oohed. “I like your underwear.” The women chuckled.
Thea agreed with Tracy. Her white cott
on underwear had been banished for the evening. Everything she wore was brand-new from the skin out. Maybe I will be a new me tonight. Maybe I’ll fit in with Peter’s friends. Then she recalled the fashionable people who had attended the open house and her hopes dimmed.
In the silent room, Cynda unzipped the dress and slipped it over Thea’s head, careful not to disturb her hairstyle. The teal green dress, a silky sheath, fit Thea snugly—flowing over her like a tropical sea swirling in waves at midcalf. Short cap sleeves and a boat neck topped the dress. The ladies had all agreed, while shepherding Thea around the stores in Wausau, that a simple classic style would suit her best. Thea felt a growing tension in the room as though the women were awaiting the grand finale.
Cynda zipped up the dress. “Tracy, get Mrs. Magill’s necklace and earrings please.”
The little girl hopped over to Thea’s vanity and picked up the black suede jewelry box. She carried it like a crown for a coronation. Cynda received the box.
Nan jumped up and lifted out the glinting, rhinestone necklace, a simple wreath of bright gems with a classic arrangement of oblong and diamond-shaped rhinestones at its center.
As Nan hooked the clasp from behind, Thea shivered at its cool touch, then she slipped a matching earring into each ear. She turned to let them view the finished art. Her heart beat erratically. “The necklace and earrings are lovely.”
“The jeweler who cleaned them told me they’re worth plenty now—called them vintage. My husband gave them to me as my wedding gift.” Mrs. Magill’s voice became gruffer. “He liked that sort of thing.”
“Here, dear.” Reaching for a box on the dresser, Louella opened it and folded back white tissue paper. She handed Thea a beaded purse. “This was Mother’s. My father brought it home from Paris after World War I.”
“Oh, Aunt Louella, it’s beautiful!” Thea stroked the beaded fringe along the small snap purse’s bottom, feeling the translucent blue, red, green beads dance at her touch. She hoped her friends didn’t notice her hands trembled.
“I know you are a little nervous about your first formal event. But with Lilly’s jewelry and my mother’s purse you will be the most elegant young woman there tonight.”
Thea was grateful to these women who’d become so dear, but something close to panic crept into her veins. They’ve done the best they could for me, but fancy clothes won’t hide the fact I don’t belong at a country club.