When Dreams Tremble Read online

  ways once more.

  “I don’t know that I’d say I like it,” Leslie said, “but it’s satisfying.”

  She grinned. “I like winning cases. So what about you? Are you running the

  store for your parents now?”

  “No, they Þ nally sold the place and moved to Florida about six years ago.”

  Leslie’s question brought home to Dev how little they knew of one another now.

  There might have been a time when they’d understood each other without

  words, but now there was nothing between them. “I’m working up at the lake

  this summer, though. I’m a biologist.”

  “You’re kidding,” Leslie said before she could catch herself.

  “Jesus, I’m sorry. That was rude.”

  Not insulted, Dev laughed as she exited onto Route 9 North, the twisting twolane

  lake road that she once could have driven from memory. “No. I don’t

  blame you. I’m sure it’s nothing anyone who knew me in high school would’ve

  guessed I’d be doing.”

  • 42 •

  WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

  “I just never remember you being interested in that kind of thing.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  “So what caused the big switch?”

  Dev swung into the driveway to Lakeview and parked in the lot beside Eileen

  Harris’s Jeep. She shifted on the seat and met Leslie’s curious gaze. “After the

  accident I couldn’t do much more than read, and studying kept my mind

  occupied.”

  Leslie paled at the unexpected reference to a time she assiduously avoided

  thinking about. Ambushed by guilt and regret, she felt a sudden need for air. She

  yanked the door handle up and stepped out in front of her childhood home. The

  rambling, three-story white clapboard house with its wraparound porches and

  gabled upper windows looked just the same as it always had. Her mother, also

  seemingly unchanged in jeans and a sweater Leslie thought might once have

  been hers, waved from the front porch. On the far side of the parking lot the

  grassy slope led down to the boathouse. The boathouse. There were some

  things she couldn’t forget, no matter how much she wanted to.

  Leslie looked back into the truck. “I’m sorry. So sorry. I’d undo it all if I

  could.”

  As Dev watched Leslie walk quickly away from her and the painful past that

  had suddenly resurfaced, she heard the words she’d never be able to forget.

  She’s nothing to me. She’s nobody.

  And still, even knowing she’d been wrong about everything, she’d never wanted

  to change any of it. Dev climbed from the truck, pulled Leslie’s luggage from

  behind the seat, and started toward the lodge.

  Leslie’s parting words, in the past and the present, reminded her more

  powerfully than any blow that she and Leslie had never shared the same dream.

  It had all been in her mind. A Þ ction created from her own need and foolish

  hopes.

  Thankfully, those long-ago dreams had been put to rest, but she was still going

  to need to Þ nd another place to stay. She had never expected that seeing Leslie

  again would hurt quite so much.

  • 43 •

  • 44 •

  WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Leslie stopped a step below her mother and tried to decipher the expression in

  her mother’s eyes. Despite the fact that it was only a three-hour trip, Leslie

  hadn’t been home in over three years, and the last visit had been only for a few

  hours one Christmas. She’d never had to lie about the reason for her absence.

  She always had work to do, even if that was only a convenient excuse. There

  was warmth in her mother’s eyes, but wariness too. After Leslie left for college

  they’d lost the easy companionability they’d had when Leslie was a teenager.

  No, Leslie reminded herself, after you decided to go to law school.

  “Hi, Mom,” Leslie said.

  Eileen wrapped her arms around Leslie’s shoulders and hugged her. “Hi, honey.

  I’m sorry I couldn’t pick you up.”

  Leslie felt the stiffness in her mother’s embrace and imagined that her own body

  felt much the same. “That’s okay. I didn’t give you any notice, after all.”

  “Well,” Eileen said, looking past Leslie down the gravel walk,

  “I’m glad Dr. Weber was able to give you a ride.”

  Leslie turned just as Dev reached her, Leslie’s briefcase under her arm and the

  suitcase in her hand. “Dr. Weber?”

  Dev shrugged, coloring faintly. “Not the regular kind.”

  “You didn’t need to bring my luggage up,” Leslie said, reaching for the suitcase.

  “No problem,” Dev replied, climbing the stairs. “Where do you want them?”

  “Your old room’s available,” Leslie’s mother said, “if you want it.

  • 45 •

  RADCLY fFE

  I don’t rent that one out unless I really need to, and the lodge isn’t full now.

  You’d have plenty of privacy.”

  Not if Rachel manages to come up, Leslie thought. There was no way she was

  going to subject Rachel to her mother’s scrutiny or have sex in her childhood

  bedroom. That wasn’t exactly the way she wanted to introduce her mother to

  the idea that she had a girlfriend.

  Plus, even if Rachel didn’t visit, she didn’t want to spend two weeks in the

  constant company of her parents and be faced with the subtle disappointment in

  their eyes. “I’d rather have one of the cabins. They’re not all full, are they?”

  “Not yet, but we’ve got reservations—”

  “Actually,” Dev said, wondering if the other two women had forgotten her

  presence, “she can have mine. I…uh…should probably get a place closer to the

  lab.”

  Eileen look startled, and Leslie scrutinized Dev intently before saying, “Mom,

  let’s settle the room situation later.”

  “Of course. Let me double-check the registrations, and we can decide after

  dinner. I’m sure I can work something out.” Eileen looked at Dev. “I hope you’ll

  be able to join us tonight.”

  “Thank you, but—” Dev said, scrambling for a polite way to decline when the

  phone rang inside and Eileen turned away.

  “Wonderful.” Eileen hurried inside, leaving Dev to stare after her.

  Leslie lifted the suitcase Dev had deposited on the porch. “I’ll make your

  excuses, if you want to pass on dinner.”

  “I’m that easy to read, huh?”

  “You might take a little bit of coaching before I’d put you on the witness stand.”

  Leslie smiled softly. “Besides, your eyes always did give you away.”

  “No, they didn’t,” Dev said quietly. “You were just always able to tell what I

  was thinking. No one else could.”

  When Leslie’s face lost all expression and she hastily glanced away, Dev knew

  she had no good reason to put off sitting down to dinner with the Harrises. Until

  now she’d avoided them because she didn’t want the subject of Leslie and their

  shared past to come up. She hadn’t wanted to be reminded, and she hadn’t

  wanted to talk about it.

  But the past was standing right in front of her, and she couldn’t have stopped

  thinking about Leslie now if she got into her truck and drove a thousand miles

  away. What she needed was to understand that
this

  • 46 •

  WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

  woman was not the girl she remembered, and whatever friendship they’d shared

  had ended the night when everything in her life had changed. Maybe a casual

  dinner where it would be apparent they had nothing in common any longer

  would do the trick.

  “Sorry,” Dev said.

  “For what?” Leslie said, shifting her eyes away from the boathouse and back to

  Dev.

  “For bringing up old history. I’m just surprised to see you.”

  “I won’t be staying long,” Leslie said abruptly, feeling inexplicably

  claustrophobic. She was standing outside in the June afternoon sun, looking out

  over a vista of forest and clear blue water that was still unspoiled by the

  trappings of modern life. She couldn’t imagine a place where she might feel

  more free, but instead she found herself trapped in memories she had no desire

  to relive. “There’s no need for you to move out of your cabin. We’re not likely

  to see each other. I’ll be working most of the time, and I imagine you’ll be off

  doing whatever you do.”

  Dr. Weber , her mother had said. Leslie could barely believe that this woman

  was the angry, often sullen, teenager she remembered. Dev had never studied in

  school, and her grades had shown it. Even though Dev had almost failed her

  junior year, Leslie always knew she was smart. She could tell from the things

  they talked about. Dev seemed to know something about almost everything, but

  she never cared about doing well in school or whether other people approved of

  her. That was one of the things Leslie always loved…

  “I’ll stay in the lodge,” Leslie said.

  “You ought to be able to stay wherever you want while you’re here,” Dev

  pointed out reasonably. “It’s your home, after all.”

  “No it isn’t.” Leslie shouldered her briefcase and started to add that she didn’t

  care where she slept when she felt the ß uttering sensation well up in her chest.

  The surge of panic that followed only made her heart pound faster. With a gasp,

  she dropped her luggage and sat down quickly in the nearest porch chair.

  “Les, are you okay?” Dev took the Þ nal two stairs to the porch in one long

  stride. Leslie was very pale, but even more disconcerting, she looked frightened.

  Dev knelt by her side. “Les?”

  “Fine,” Leslie said with a wave of her hand. She felt just a little bit breathless,

  but the ß uttering sensation was already starting to subside. “Hot. I should have

  had something to drink on the train besides coffee.”

  • 47 •

  RADCLY fFE

  “I’ll get you something to drink from inside.” Dev started to rise when Leslie

  caught her arm.

  “No, don’t. My mother…”

  “I won’t tell her.” Dev, stiff with shock, stared at Leslie’s Þ ngers wrapped

  around her wrist. It was odd, they were exactly as she remembered them,

  incredibly soft and strong at the same time. Satin over steel. Her body

  remembered every place that Leslie had ever touched, even casually, and she

  shuddered at the explosion of sensation.

  Gently, she drew her arm away. “I’ll tell your mother it’s for me. Pepsi, not

  Coke, right?”

  Leslie bit the inside of her lip. Two years together, and Rachel could never

  remember that, but somehow, Dev had, even after all this time. She felt

  dangerously close to tears, and barely recognized herself. Of course, she’d

  hardly slept in two nights and what little rest she’d managed had been uneasy.

  Part of her kept expecting to wake up breathless with that terrible pressure in

  her chest. She nodded, because she needed a minute to settle herself and she

  didn’t want to have Dev see her so shaken. Dev always could see too much.

  “Thanks. Yes, Pepsi would be great.”

  “No problem.” Dev put her hands in her pockets because she had the

  overwhelming desire to touch Leslie on her shoulder, or her hair.

  Somewhere, just to reassure her, or maybe herself, that everything was all right.

  For a second, she’d thought that Leslie was going to faint, and she still didn’t

  look quite right. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

  Relieved to be alone, Leslie rested her head against the back of the white

  wicker rocker and closed her eyes. She pressed her index Þ nger over the pulse

  in her wrist. It seemed fast, but steady. She could breathe again. It was hot for

  June. And, she had to admit, seeing Dev had thrown her. She’d known that

  coming home was going to be difÞ cult to begin with, and now she couldn’t

  remember why she’d ever thought it was a good idea at all.

  Since she’d changed her mind about doing something environmentally related as

  a career and gone into law instead, her relationship with her parents, especially

  her mother, had been awkward.

  Her parents were one step up from hippies—well, old hippies now—but she

  could remember riding on her father’s shoulders during equal rights marches and

  carrying signs at supermarkets to protest the treatment of migrant farm workers.

  As a child she used to play on the rug in front

  • 48 •

  WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

  of the huge stone Þ replace, listening to her parents and their friends debate

  everything from abortion rights to global warming. Her parents still grew their

  own organic vegetables, and the only boats that put out from the boathouse at

  Lakeview other than the outboard her father used to ferry campers to the islands

  were sailboats or other non-motorized craft.

  She was a disappointment to them, and she knew it.

  “Here you go,” Dev said, squatting down again beside Leslie and handing her a

  sweating glass of soda. “No ice and a straw.”

  Dev didn’t say just the way you like it, but Leslie heard the words all the

  same. She took the glass and managed to smile, although she wasn’t certain she

  could take any more kindness. “Thanks.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  Leslie sipped the Pepsi, giving herself a few extra seconds to chase away the

  disturbing disorientation that came over her every time she looked at Dev.

  Forty-eight hours ago she had been immersed in another world, a world she had

  chosen and in which she knew exactly who she was. She’d been in charge, in

  control, sure of herself. She’d been…satisÞ ed. She’d also been certain that

  was as close to happy as she could be.

  “Les?” Dev stared at Leslie’s left hand, then gently cradled it in her palm. There

  was no engagement ring, no wedding band, but that wasn’t what held her

  attention now. She looked from the bruise surrounding the healing puncture site

  to Leslie’s face. “What’s wrong, Les?”

  “Nothing.” Leslie drew her hand back, closing her Þ ngers into a Þ st and

  turning her hand away so that the IV site was no longer visible.

  She’d forgotten that was there. There was another one on her right forearm, but

  her jacket covered it.

  Dev didn’t repeat the question, but Leslie could see it still swirling in her eyes.

  When she’d Þ rst seen Dev at the train station, she hadn’t thought she would

  recognize her if they’d passed on the st
reet, but she realized now that she’d

  been wrong. It was true that Dev had grown into a woman even more attractive

  than she’d been as a teenager, but if Leslie had ever seen her eyes, she would

  have known her anywhere.

  Her eyes were the same, and Leslie hadn’t exaggerated when she’d said they

  always gave Dev away. When she was angry those tiny gold ß ecks that Leslie

  had always coveted disappeared and her irises darkened from hazel to gray.

  When she was happy, they sparkled with

  • 49 •

  RADCLY fFE

  a hint of green as pure as new spring grass. When she was worried, like now,

  the colors swirled like shadowy eddies in the lake during a hard rain.

  “Really. I’m just getting over a bug of some kind.” Without thinking, Leslie

  rested a hand on Dev’s shoulder, surprised at the hard muscles beneath the

  cotton shirt. They felt so different from Rachel’s Þ rmness or her own gymtoned

  body. She considered herself strong, but what she sensed in Dev’s body

  was power.

  “There’s probably time for a nap before dinner,” Dev said, not completely sure

  she believed Leslie’s story. But she had no right to question her either. She

  eased back on her heels and breathed a little easier when Leslie removed her

  hand. The physical contact made her uncomfortable. “Your mother said to tell

  you she freed up cabin nine indeÞ nitely. I’ll take your luggage down.”

  Leslie set her glass aside and stood. “I’ll get it. You’ve done enough this

  afternoon. You don’t have to play bellboy as well.”

  Dev grinned. “I did that for a while in college. It paid pretty well.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “Syracuse.”

  Leslie smiled wanly. She had always planned to go to the College of Forestry at

  Syracuse. She and Dev often talked about it when they sat together by the lake

  after school. But when she’d been accepted at Yale, where she’d only applied

  because her guidance counselors had insisted, she hadn’t been able to resist the

  lure of attending an Ivy League school. And she admitted now, she’d been

  eager to experience something bigger than her small-town life. There’d been

  fewer than a hundred seniors in her graduating high school class. She’d known

  them all since kindergarten. Everyone she knew in school looked the same,

  thought the same, shared the same plans for the future. Except for Dev. Dev