she’d waded to shore and secured the boat with a line around a nearby tree.

“Does the wake really make that much difference to what you’re studying?”

Leslie asked, intrigued. She’d grown up on the lake, but she’d never really

thought about it in such microcosmic terms.

“Yes. Here, start passing me the gear,” Dev said. As Leslie handed down crates

and Dev’s tent, sleeping bag, and other supplies, Dev explained. “We’ve looked

at water velocity at lake bottoms with Dopplers and measured the water

turbidity with optical backscatter sensors—even motorboats running as slow as

six miles an hour stir up the sediment and change the water clarity and nutrient

composition.”

“And?”

“Aquatic plant growth is altered, which affects the Þ sh feeding patterns.” Dev

glanced out at the lake, then back at Leslie. “And the backwash makes it easier

for contaminants in the water to be transported to other regions of the lake.”

Leslie climbed down from the boat and hefted Dev’s duffel. “What are you

doing for food?”

“K rations. Dehydrated meals. I’ve got water-purifying tablets so I can use

boiled lake water. I’ve done this before, Les. I’ll be Þ ne.” Dev took the duffel

from her. “There’s no point you getting torn up too. I’ve got long sleeves. I’ll be

Þ ne from here.”

Leslie scanned the island. It was isolated from the others, densely forested and

rocky, and not designated for normal camping. Dev would be here alone. The

thought made her uneasy. “Do you have extra batteries for the two-way?”

“In my dry pack.”

“I’ll wear the radio. If you don’t check in with me twice a day, I’ll be out.”

Dev frowned. “Besides the fact you’ll contaminate my test waters, there’s

nothing for you to worry—”

• 138 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

“I’m really not interested in negotiating this, Devon. Either check in, or I’ll be out

here stirring up your sediment.” Leslie gestured toward the woods. “Your other

option is that I stay.”

“To protect me?” Dev couldn’t help herself. She grinned.

“You think I couldn’t?”

Dev knew Leslie was capable of doing any number of things to her, and

protection wasn’t at the top of the list. Still, Leslie’s concern made her feel

good. Too good.

“I’ll call in. Thanks.”

Dev stared at Leslie across the pile of gear, aware of the sudden awkwardness.

Leslie, in an uncharacteristic show of uncertainty, shufß ed one foot in the sand

as she scanned the woods behind Dev.

“You sure about this?” Leslie asked softly.

No. I’m not sure about anything where you’re concerned. Dev nodded,

grateful for the barrier between them. Sunlight slanted across Leslie’s face, and

she was so beautiful. Because looking at her was sweetly painful, Dev knew it

was time for them to part.

“Yeah. I’ll be Þ ne. You should take off.”

Reluctantly, Leslie climbed back into the boat. Dev waded into the water and

pushed her out from shore, then returned to the tiny beach.

“I’ll pick you up in Þ ve days, right?” Leslie called.

“Right.”

“Be careful.”

Dev waved and Leslie started the motor, carefully backing away from the

shallows before revving up the power. Dev followed the boat until it was just a

tiny speck in the distance. She hoped that when Leslie returned, the ache of

longing she felt every time she looked at her would Þ nally be gone.

• 139 •

• 140 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

How are things going?” Leslie asked, four days after she’d dropped Dev off on

the island. She leaned against the porch railing and breathed deeply of the cool

morning air, picturing Dev in the woods in her jeans, boots, and T-shirt. The

radio transmission was remarkably good, and it sounded as if Dev were right

next to her. She looked forward to their twice-a-day communications, not only

because she worried with Dev working alone, but also because she enjoyed

their brief shared updates.

“On schedule. I’m working my way around the southern tip of the island today,

and should Þ nish up tomorrow. How about you?”

“My father’s coming home today. We have a new cook. Life is good.” Leslie

heard Dev laugh and realized life was good. Once her mother had returned, the

two of them had been able to handle things at the lodge with enough time left

over for Leslie to look over the cases from the local ofÞ ce. She worked, she

walked on the beach, and she’d started to sleep more than three hours a night.

“Sounds good,” Dev said. “So I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Will do. Take care.”

“Always.”

Leslie clicked off the radio, smiling as she envisioned Dev at work on the island.

She never would have predicted Dev as a scientist, and a Þ sh expert at that,

but now it seemed so natural. So Dev, really. Dev had always been an

observer, apart from things, so very private. It had always been special when

Dev had shared her thoughts and feelings, because Leslie knew it was rare for

her. Being Dev’s friend had made her feel special.

• 141 •

RADCLY fFE

“Was that Dev?” Eileen asked.

Leslie jumped. She hadn’t heard her mother come out onto the porch.

“Yes,” Leslie replied, aware that her mother was studying her intently. “She’s Þ

ne.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re checking in with her,” Eileen said casually.

She crossed the porch, carrying a cup of coffee. “How come I never met her

when the two of you were teenagers? You’re obviously very good friends.”

Leslie contemplated some neutral explanation and then thought perhaps it was

time to bridge another rift in her life. “We weren’t friends like I was friends with

the other girls. We didn’t do social things together. We just…talked.”

“But you were close, weren’t you? I can tell from the way you talk to her. And

the way she looks at you.”

“What do you mean—the way she looks at me?” Despite herself, Leslie felt

herself blushing.

Eileen sipped her coffee and smiled softly. “I think even if you hadn’t told me

you were a lesbian, I would have noticed that she follows you with her eyes the

way I’m used to seeing men watch women.”

Leslie snorted, thinking of Mike and the few men after him she’d dated. “I doubt

it. Dev is nothing like a man.”

“There are some men who truly do appreciate women,” Eileen said gently.

“Your father is one.”

“I know,” Leslie admitted. “You’re right. Still, Daddy is special.”

She braced her hands on the railing and leaned out, letting the sunlight strike her

face, enjoying the warmth and the smell of summer. “Dev always treated me as

if I were precious,” she said softly, almost to herself, because it was the Þ rst

time she’d ever given a name to what Dev had made her feel. She looked at her

mother. “I guess I wanted to keep that all to myself. Maybe that’s why I never

brought her home.”

“Maybe it was because you didn’t think I’d understand,” Eileen said sadly. “I’m

sorry if I made you feel that way.”

Leslie shook her head. “No. It wasn’t about you. I didn’t understand myself

what I felt.”

“And you didn’t…understand…until you were in college?”

“Not exactly,” Leslie said with a sigh. She curled an arm around the porch post

and sat on top of the railing, her legs dangling free.

She leaned her head against the column and thought about how long

• 142 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

she’d denied her feelings. “I never considered that what was happening between

Dev and me was anything except a wonderful friendship. I was clueless.” She

shook her head. “God. Worse than clueless. And then one night she kissed

me…no, we kissed…and I didn’t handle it very well.”

Eileen said nothing, but she brieß y stroked Leslie’s arm.

“Some bad things happened. Dev had an accident.” Leslie closed her eyes.

“Part of that was my fault.” When her mother murmured with concern, Leslie

waved her away. “It’s a long story, and Dev and I have already talked it out.

But it took me years to admit that what she and I had was what I really

wanted.”

“And you have someone now?”

Leslie hesitated. “Yes.”

“Did you Þ nd it again?” Eileen asked softly. “What you had with Dev?”

“No.” Leslie met her mother’s eyes, her expression ß at.

“Perhaps you will yet.”

“There’s no going back. Besides, everyone knows that Þ rst love is too sweet

to ever last.”

“Not everyone agrees,” her mother pointed out gently.

Leslie shrugged. She wasn’t in the mood to argue, not when they’d had their Þ

rst real conversation in over a decade. “I can drive you to the hospital to pick up

Daddy, if you want.” She scanned the sky, where a few ß uffy clouds ß oated

by. Far to the north a darker cloud bank was just visible beyond the mountains.

“We might get some of that rain after all.”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to spend some time at your ofÞ ce today?”

“Dev left me her keys so I could use her truck. I can go in this afternoon.”

“Go ahead. I can handle things at the hospital.”

“It will be good to have him home.” Leslie slid off the banister and walked with

her mother toward the front door.

“It certainly will.”

“Are we still going to have the Fourth of July party Saturday night?”

“Of course. The guests always enjoy it, and so do the locals. I am going to have

some of the food catered this year, though, so all we have to do is make sure

the boathouse is in good shape.”

• 143 •

RADCLY fFE

“I’ll take care of overseeing that.”

Eileen squeezed Leslie’s hand. “I’m glad you came home. I’m sorry there’s

been so much for you to do here, but it still feels wonderful.”

“Every now and then, I actually forget I have another life.” Leslie laughed. “A

completely different life.”

“You seem very much yourself to me,” Eileen remarked, opening the door.

I never thought I’d say this, but I feel like myself here. Leslie looked over

her shoulder down the grassy slope to the boathouse and the lake beyond. A

few boats were out on the lake already. A few of the guests were walking along

the shore, some holding hands. The sun was impossibly bright, the sky incredibly

blue, the silvery surface of the lake hopelessly beautiful. In the back of her mind,

she heard Dev’s laughter. “Well, it is home, after all.”

v

Leslie sipped her coffee and opened another Þ le. It was amazing how quickly

she’d slipped into work mode as soon as she’d reached the ofÞ ce. This was

comfortable too—reviewing, analyzing, teasing out the critical facts from a

miasma of information. She felt as if she were hunting, pitting her skills against a

wily prey. To the strongest, or perhaps the smartest, went the victory, and she

liked being the victor.

She made some notes, scratched a memo to have her paralegal check several

rulings, and rose to get another cup of coffee.

“Excuse me, Ms. Harris,” the ofÞ ce receptionist said, “but Mr.

Carpenter said we’re going to close early today because of the storm.

He wants to go secure his boat.” The pretty blonde laughed. “He’s totally weird

about that new boat.” Then as if just realizing that Leslie, although a visiting

attorney, was technically her boss, she blushed. “I mean, he’s—”

Leslie frowned. “Storm? What are you talking about?”

The blonde pointed to the window behind Leslie. “There’s some kind of freak

storm blowing in from the north. Like a summer Alberta Clipper, without the

snow. They’re predicting really high winds and—”

“Since when?” Leslie snapped, quickly pushing the Þ les she’d been working on

into her briefcase.

“Oh, you know these weathermen. In the winter, they forecast