“Nonsense, darling. We’ll have plenty of time to get reacquainted.”
She laughed throatily. “I’m pulling into the parking garage, so I’m going to sign
off. I’ll see you, darling.”
“Rachel, wait! Rach?” Leslie was left staring at the silent phone in her hand,
wondering why she didn’t want Rachel there. Maybe it was just that this wasn’t
part of their life, and she had no way to explain to Rachel who she had been all
those years ago. Or, she feared, it might be because she wasn’t the woman
Rachel was expecting to ? nd when she arrived.
• 174 •
WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE
CHAPTER TWENTY
Leslie contemplated her choices in footwear as she pulled on jeans, a warm
navy crew-neck sweater, and the thickest socks she’d packed. But all she had
in the way of shoes were sneakers or dress shoes. Neither would hold up on the
muddy path to the lodge. With a sigh, she pulled on Dev’s boots. She could
borrow a pair from her mother and return these to Dev later. She hoped that
Dev had another pair of boots at her cabin and wouldn’t need these tonight.
Flashlight in hand and a bundle of clothes under her other arm, Leslie set out
toward the lodge. The rain had tapered off to a heavy downfall. Annoying, but
not threatening. Nevertheless, Leslie felt as if she’d been slogging through water
for days. Lights shone in one or two of the cabins she passed, but the cloud
cover was too dense to allow any moonlight to ? lter through the trees. When a
beam of light ? ashed from out of the woods and into Leslie’s face, it was as
bright as a car headlight, stinging her eyes.
Startled and annoyed, she complained, “Hey!”
“Oh, sorry,” a woman called, and the light immediately cut down to the ground.
Leslie blinked away the water in her irritated eyes and cautiously approached.
Then her uncertainty was replaced by something altogether different, a sinking
sensation she didn’t want to analyze. She raised her own ? ashlight until the edge
of the beam illuminated Natalie’s face.
“Hi.”
“Nice night,” Natalie said lightly.
“Isn’t it.” Leslie took in Natalie’s backpack and the plastic bag of what looked
like groceries under her arm. She was clearly on her way
• 175 •
RADCLY fFE
to Dev’s, probably bringing her dinner. Like Leslie had wanted to do.
Like she had no right to do. And a backpack—overnight clothes? Her mood
darkened. She sidestepped to make room for Natalie on the path.
“Be careful. The trail’s a mess.”
“You too. By the way, I moored the department boat down at your dock. I can
take you out to yours in the morning, if that works for you.”
Leslie’s jaw tightened. Natalie was staying the night. “That would be ? ne.
Thank you.”
“Right after breakfast?”
“Perfect,” Leslie said ? atly. “Good night.”
“Night,” Natalie called.
Leslie stood in the drizzle, watching Natalie disappear into the dark. To bring
Dev supper. To keep her company on a cold, rainy night.
To take care of her pain. Leslie suddenly had an image of Natalie curled into the
bend of Dev’s body, the way she had been the night before, and the ache was
so huge it hurt to draw breath. She turned away and walked on in the rain,
wishing she had never come home. Wishing she had never seen Dev again.
Wishing she didn’t want her and wondering when it would stop.
She trudged up to the lodge, grateful for a diversion, anything to keep her mind
occupied until she could get back to Manhattan. A few people lingered in the
great room, but the large dining room adjoining it was dark. Subdued light
streaked beneath the kitchen door and Leslie made her way toward it. Her
mother sat at the central counter on the same stool that Dev had occupied
earlier, working a crossword puzzle.
“Hi, honey,” Eileen said, swinging around as if to stand.
Leslie held up a hand. “Don’t get up.” She craned her neck toward the family
room. “Is Daddy here?”
“No. He didn’t sleep well last night and he went to bed early.” She pointed to
the bundle under Leslie’s arm. “What have you got there?”
“Laundry. Do you mind if I do some?”
“Of course not. You haven’t had dinner, have you?”
“No. I just woke up a little while ago.”
Eileen rose. “I’ll put the laundry in while you ? x yourself something to eat.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t. Give me the laundry.”
• 176 •
WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE
Leslie wasn’t really hungry, but she knew she should eat something.
Maybe then the gnawing ache in the pit of her stomach would go away.
Leslie sighed. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Are these yours?” Eileen called from the small laundry room next to the
kitchen.
“No,” Leslie said as she opened the refrigerator and pulled out a pizza box and
a bottle of Beck’s. She peeked under the lid and saw with satisfaction that there
were two slices remaining. “They’re Dev’s. Mine will have to go to the dry
cleaners, and even then, I’m not sure they’re salvageable.”
“Put that in the microwave,” Eileen said automatically as she rejoined Leslie and
sat down at the counter again.
“It’s ? ne.” Leslie leaned an elbow on the counter, poured a glass of beer, and
munched on the cold pizza.
Eileen shook her head, smiling faintly. “How’s Dev doing? She looked pretty
worn out this morning.”
Leslie stiffened and took another swallow of beer. “I don’t know.
I haven’t talked to her since we came back.”
“I’ll call her cell and see if she wants me to ? x something. Maybe you can take
it down to her.”
“No,” Leslie said abruptly. When her mother started in surprise, Leslie lowered
her voice. “I’m sure she would have called if she needed anything. I saw Natalie
on the way down toward her cabin. She looked like she had food with her.”
“Oh. That’s good.”
Peachy. Leslie pushed the last half-eaten slice away and drained her glass. Then
she went to the refrigerator and got another beer.
“Did you call your friend?” Eileen asked, absently ? lling in a word in the
