Dorothy Clark - An Unlikely Love

Music sounded in the distance. He followed those ahead of him out of the trees onto the shore, stopped and stared. The failing light made it difficult to see, but he was almost certain... He smiled and started forward.

* * *

Marissa lifted her hems and moved closer to the lake. A warm, gentle breeze carrying soft music from the concert down the lakefront caressed her face and fluttered the curls at her forehead and temples. She stopped and brushed back the curls, gazed at the Colonel Phillips floating on the silvered water at the end of the dock, its lanterns golden orbs against the evening sky.

May I assist you to your destination? Sun-streaked hair above a handsome face with a disarming smile rushed back from the oblivion to which she’d assigned them. Seeing Grant Winston at the dining hall this afternoon had brought back the memories of him on the boat. She sighed and shook her head. It was foolishness to entertain romantic thoughts about a man she would likely never see again. But he was so nice. And it was such a perfect night for dreaming...

“Miss Bradley?”

She froze. It couldn’t be. She turned, stared at the object of her dreaming. “Mr. Winston!” Heat rushed across her cheeks.

“At your service.” He smiled and dipped his head.

She nodded a greeting, pressed her hand over her pounding heart and struggled to order her scattered thoughts.

A frown pulled his straight dark eyebrows together. “I’m sorry if I startled you, Miss Bradley. But you were so lost in thought you didn’t notice me.”

Thoughts about him ! The heat in her cheeks increased. She fussed with a fold in her skirt for an excuse to put her head down. “I was admiring the sight of the Colonel Phillips against the night sky.” Don’t mention the steamer! “And the lake, of course. Even the silvered water is lovely—from a safe distance.” She pressed her lips together to stop her babbling. There was no point in letting the man see that the unfortunate timing of his appearance had her completely undone. It served her right for dreaming about him.

A smile curved his lips. “There is no quivering deck under your feet here.”

It wasn’t her feet that were quivering. It was her stomach. She lifted her head, gave him a polite, if somewhat forced, smile and groped for a change of subject. “How did you find me?” Oh, dear. She’d made it sound as if he were on a quest of some sort! “I mean, what do you want?” And that was worse! She stared at him, aghast at her lack of manners.

His gaze traveled slowly over her face, came to rest on her eyes.

The apology she was about to offer died on her lips.

“You have a penchant for standing alone away from the crowd, Miss Bradley. And you are the only person on this part of the shore. I took a chance that it was you.”

His gaze held hers. He had warm brown eyes. So...warm... The quivering spread to her knees. She broke the eye contact, clenched her hands to keep from pressing them against her stomach and wished he’d stop talking long enough that she could gather her wits together.

“Would you care to stroll with me along the shoreline until it is time for my steamer to leave, Miss Bradley?”

Did he think her bold like Clarice? She pushed at her curls, pretended to adjust her hat to stall for time. His request was innocent enough to be acceptable. What could she say? I’m sorry, Mr. Winston, but you make me nervous? It wasn’t his fault that she’d been dreaming. She looked down at his offered arm, nodded and slipped her hand in the crook of his elbow. It felt natural and secure, as if it belonged there. She thrust the thought from her, lifted her hems with her free hand and strolled beside him.

“Did you come to the shore for the concert, Miss Bradley? Or only to admire the view of the lake by night?”

“I came for the concert—along with everyone else here at Chautauqua, it seems. I’ve never seen so many people in one place. Which is why I am on this side of the dock.” She gave a small laugh, focused her thoughts on answering his question to keep from thinking about his closeness. “The loveliness of the lake view was a pleasant surprise.” She looked at the water slipping along the shore at his side. “Although I cannot say I find it so at the moment. Now that I’m close, the water simply looks dark and dangerous.”

“It’s not that way once you know how to swim. It’s really quite refreshing to dive into the water on a hot summer’s day.”

His smile was too charming. “Ah...” She gave him a sidelong look and shook her head. “I shall no longer be ashamed of my cowardice concerning water, Mr. Winston. I see now why you were so comfortable on the steamer. You live on the lake. Though I still cannot see how that can make diving into its water enjoyable.” She gave a mock shudder.

He chuckled and turned so that they headed back toward the dock. “I have misled you, Miss Bradley. I live in Mayville and our home is not on Chautauqua Lake, though our land borders it. I learned to swim in a small pond on our property when I was four years old.”

“So young?” She halted and looked up at him. “Weren’t your mother and father concerned for your safety?”

That deep chuckle rolled from his chest. “They no doubt would have been, had they known about it.” A grin slanted across his mouth. “I fell in the pond.”

She gasped, pressed her hand to the base of her throat. “Who saved you?”

“No one. My wild flailing and kicking eventually got me to the bank. After that I dove in the pond on purpose.” He laughed, tucked her hand back through his arm and started walking again. “I can tell by your horrified expression you’ve not had any similar experience.”

“I should hope not, Mr. Winston!”

“There are no lakes or ponds for swimming where you live?”

Not after we moved from the farm. The thought sobered her. She closed her mind to the memories. “No. I live in Fredonia.”

“Ah. Then it is more likely that you are surrounded by vineyards than lakes or ponds.”

“Our home is in the town.” The answer was curt, bordering on the impolite, but she wanted no questions about her home. And no conversation about vineyards!

He stopped, looked down at her. “I hope you won’t think me overly forward, Miss Bradley, but I sense that these two weeks at the Chautauqua Assembly are different. People have come from all over the country, and we must make friends quickly. Thus, strict rules of etiquette have to be relaxed. Would you do me the honor of addressing me by my given name—in private, only if you choose?”

“Why, I—”

“I would not ask such freedom of you, but for the special circumstance of Chautauqua. My name is Grant.”

There was sincerity in his voice and in his eyes. Dare she defy propriety? She caught her breath and nodded. “Very well. Because of Chautauqua...Grant.” Her cheeks warmed. She looked away.

“Thank you, Miss—”

“Marissa.” Forgive me, Mother. She made herself look up at him, to read what was in his eyes at her boldness.

“Marissa...”

The Colonel Phillips blasted its horn.

She jumped.

He looked at the steamer at the end of the dock, frowned and looked back at her. “The gangplank’s being set in place. I have to go.” He released her arm, stepped toward the dock, then returned to her. “I will be back for the science class tomorrow evening. May I see you when it’s over, Marissa? If you will tell me where you’re living—”

The steamer’s horn gave its last warning.

“There’s no time for directions.” He trotted backward toward the dock. “Will you meet me at the hotel? At dusk tomorrow?”