Marta Perry - True Devotion

His face looked as if it had been carved from the same rock as the cliff above them. Clearly he didn’t intend to give an inch. If she drove alone, he’d probably follow her.

She slid into the front seat of the cruiser. With a nod that accepted her capitulation, he closed the door.

He got in and started the car while she surveyed the dash with its police radio.

“I’ve never been in a police cruiser before. It’s intimidating.”

His lips twitched. “You haven’t seemed too intimidated so far. Exactly the opposite, as a matter of fact.”

“That’s just because you’re overprotective. Ordinarily I’m perfectly agreeable.”

Fifteen minutes ago she’d been worrying about how she’d face him. Now they seemed to have reached a new level of communication, and she wasn’t sure why. Because she’d forgotten about his history while they were busy arguing?

Maybe. Or maybe he’d forced his way past the reminder she represented of his own grief.

Whatever had caused it, she could only be grateful. She didn’t want to walk on eggshells around Nathan for the rest of her stay. She settled back against the seat as the cruiser pulled out of the parking area.

The road wound along the lake, a gray ribbon unfurling through a patchwork of gold, green and red. The maples were already dropping their leaves, and the sumacs sent red spires toward the sky like so many torches.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” She glanced toward him, to find him frowning at the road ahead.

“What? Oh, sure.” Clearly he hadn’t been thinking about the scenery.

Was he thinking about what a nuisance she was? Or speculating on how soon she’d be out of his hair?

A wave of annoyance went through her. “Look, you really didn’t have to do this.”

Nathan didn’t look at her, but his eyebrow rose slightly. “I thought we were finished with that conversation.” He slowed, flicking the turn signal. “We’re here, anyway.”

He turned into the lane. She remembered the road as wide and well kept, but now it was a rutted, overgrown trail through a tangle of undergrowth. She probably wouldn’t have been able to pick out the turnoff if she’d been alone.

“I see what you meant about the place.” She winced as a dangling crimson vine of Virginia creeper slapped the car’s windshield. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for damage to the police cruiser.”

“It’s been through worse.” He steered around a deep pothole and rounded a clump of rhododendron.

They emerged into the open by the water. Nathan stopped the car where the lane petered out. He leaned across her to gesture to the right.

“That’s all that’s left, I’m afraid.”

She remembered a gracious clapboard house with a wide porch overlooking the lake. Now blackened timbers jutted upward, and a tangled mass of wrought iron sagged to the ground where the porch had been.

She unbuckled her seat belt and slid out without waiting for Nathan to help her. She stood looking, trying to imagine what the fire must have been like.

She swallowed hard, saddened at the devastation. “Depressing, isn’t it?”

He came around the car to stand next to her. “I’m afraid by the time the fire trucks got here, it was past saving. That happens too often with vacant cottages. I always wondered why Trevor’s parents didn’t either rebuild the house or sell the land.”

That would have been her late father-in-law’s decision. He’d always decided everything, while Enid smiled and nodded agreement.

“Trevor came over when he was here.” She repeated what Daniel had said, trying to make sense of that visit.

Nathan nodded. “I remember he mentioned wanting to see the place. Was he planning to rebuild?”

That was obviously something she should have known if she’d been aware of Trevor’s visit to the lodge.

“I don’t think he’d decided yet.” She leaned back against the car, absorbing its warmth. A ray of sunlight, striking through crimson leaves, gave the illusion the fire still burned. “I remember how much he loved this place when he was a kid.”

He leaned against the car, next to her, apparently content to let her take as long as she wanted. “Had you ever been here with him?”

“Not after we were married. I was here as a child, though.”

He turned to look at her. “You were? I guess that means you knew Trevor for a long time.”

“Our mothers were close friends, so we grew up together. I came to the lake for a visit when I was ten.”

“Did you enjoy yourself?”

She pressed her palms against the car as that visit came to life in her memory. “It wasn’t a happy time for me. My mother was in the hospital, and my father sent me to Enid while she had surgery.”

“That’s hard on a kid. You must have been scared.” His voice warmed with sympathy.

“Scared, mad, you name it. You know what it’s like when you sense that something’s terribly wrong and no one will tell you the truth?”

He seemed to understand what she didn’t say. “Your mother?”

“It was cancer. She didn’t make it.”

She wouldn’t tell him the rest of it—that her father, always dependent on her mother’s strength, hadn’t known what to do with her after her mother’s death. That she’d spent most of her time after that at boarding school or farmed out to friends, her home life gone.

She moved her hand to her stomach. That’s not going to happen to you, little Sarah.

“I’m so sorry.” His shoulder pressed warmly against hers. “That was rough.”

Her throat tightened, and again she felt that irrational longing to lean against him. But she couldn’t. It was time to lighten this conversation.

“Be sorry for everyone around me that summer. I made their lives miserable, too.”

“They could probably take it.”

She glanced at him. He had a cleft in his chin that seemed to mitigate his face’s stern planes. “Actually, I remember a certain lifeguard telling me to stop being a brat.”

“Me?” He raised those level brows. “I’d never have said that to a kid. You must be thinking of someone else.”

“No, it was you, all right. Nathan Sloane, the most popular guy on the beach. All the teenage girls vied for your attention. It’s a wonder one of them didn’t try drowning herself to get it.”

He grinned, his face relaxing. “Actually, I did hear a few phony calls for help in my time.”

His smile did amazing things to his usually serious face. No wonder the girls had been crazy about him.

“I also remember seeing you hanging around the baby-sitter Enid had for Trevor and me. In fact, I caught you kissing her one night right down there on the dock.”

She gestured toward the spot, then turned back toward him. Her heart jolted. The smile had been wiped from his face, leaving it stripped and hard.

Then she remembered. Linda. The baby-sitter had been Linda Everett. The woman he married. The woman he’d lost.

Sitting on the front porch of the cottage the next afternoon, Susannah watched as the police cruiser pulled out of the lodge’s parking lot and disappeared toward town in a swirl of autumn leaves. Nathan had gone. It was safe to go to the lodge.

Safe? She thought about the word. Who was she trying to protect—Nathan or herself?

Those moments at the ruined house were permanently engraved upon her mind. She’d been careless, and her unthinking words had hurt him.

She pressed her hand against the spot where the baby seemed to be doing gymnastics. She certainly hadn’t intended to cause him pain with her mention of that long-ago summer. She’d actually been relieved because they’d seemed able to converse like any two casual acquaintances.