She made a face. “I don’t want to talk about it. What are you getting another sample of?”
“The hot springs. There’s a unique crystal sort of microbe—”
“Great. I’ll come with you.” She put down the laptop as if it were a hot potato. “Wait till I change.”
* * *
Teddy knew she should stay at the cottage, sit her butt in a chair, and focus on the laptop.
What better time to work than when her housemate was away from the place, and no longer sucking up all her air?
But here she was, traipsing through the woods with Oscar—who was making no effort to hide his grumpiness. Not that he had any real right to be grumpy.Hewas the one who’d taken over her place and was distractingher.
People didn’t understand how writers (or any artist, she supposed) could be distracted simply by another person’s presence. Even if they weren’t interacting with them. The truth was that they sucked up all the air justbeingthere.
Teddy sighed. If only there was a quick fix for her writer’s block. If only she could take something, or make a wish or something—
“Here we are,” Oscar said unnecessarily. He set down his heavy pack and began to take off his hiking boots.
She sat on a large boulder and began to pull off her walking shoes. They weren’t as heavy-duty as his boots, but they protected her feet. “Too bad that’s not a fountain of youth or wishing well,” she said, looking at the coiling steam rising from the softly bubbling pool. “Something that granted your heart’s desire when you threw in a coin, or jumped in or drank it or something.”
Oscar looked at her as if she’d sprouted a third ear. “What?”
“I’m just saying…don’t you think that maybe the Native Americans—I think they were Chippewas around here—might have considered a place like this special, or even sacred and holy, with it being the only hot spring in the whole region? Probably the only one they’d ever seen. I mean, think about it—in the dead of winter, they’re trudging through here, crossing the huge Lake Michigan on all that ice—they’d have had no idea how big the lake was to begin with—and suddenly they see steam rising from the middle of a snowbank. And there’s this pool of hot water—in the middle of winter! Don’t you think that’d give them something to wonder about? Like, there was some sort of mysterious or supernatural element to it?”
He was still looking at her oddly. “Sure.” Then he glanced at the pool. “Maybe.”
She grinned at him. “See, youdohave an imagination.”
“I never said I didn’t.” Now he sounded grumpy again.
“Right.” Teddy walked over and slipped her fingers into the water. It washot. And it would feel so good on her skin. “I wish for whatever energy is in this pool that it helps me attain my heart’s desire,” she said, trailing her fingers through the churning pool.
“Your heart’s desire? What are you talking about?”
She shrugged, feeling a little foolish. After all, he was a fact-basedscientistwho couldn’t even run with her plot idea about random bad stuff. “I don’t know. What if itisa sacred or special or holy place, and this poolisspecial somehow? I figure I’m going to increase the chance of getting what I want by—”
“By wishing for your heart’s desire over a hot spring?” He was looking at her as if she’d grown that third ear again. “You’re an interesting woman, Teddy Mack.”
“But,” she said, “what if you onlythinkyou know your heart’s desire? Like, mine right now is to figure out how to finish this damn book. That’s all I want. But what if deep down inside, my heart’s desire is really to find another career? Or to write something different? Then I wouldn’t finish the book, my career would be over—or at least it would change—and then I’d move on. And that would be my heart’s desire—even if I didn’t actually articulate it.”
He shook his head. “I’m pretty sure most people know what they really want.”
“So what’s your heart’s desire? What do you really want?” She gave him a cheeky grin, then it faded. “Oh. You want Marcie back.”
He didn’t respond. But he didn’t need to; sadness was written all over his face.
Suddenly sober and feeling bad for bringing it up, Teddy pulled off her sundress, under which was her bright blue one-piece bathing suit, and climbed over the rocks to slide into the pool.
“Ohhh,” she groaned as she settled into the heat of the water. It felt good, but it washot. She swam over to where the little trickle of a waterfall poured into the pool and let the cool spill over her. “Ohhh…my…God…”
When she opened her eyes, her hair slicked back from her face, she saw that Oscar had zipped off the bottoms of his cargo pants, turning them into shorts, and taken off his shirt. And…yes indeed, her memory from last night was dead on: he looked pretty damned good for a nerdy scientist who was mourning the loss of his fiancée.
Good enough that Teddy took her time checking him out (now that it was daylight) when he wasn’t looking. He wasn’t bulky or hugely muscular, but wiry and toned and well proportioned. Though he had a farmer’s tan, his shoulders and upper arms were covered with freckles that gave him a lightly bronzed appearance along the top. His calves were muscular, and he didn’t have knobby knees, which was a major bonus in her book.
When he came over to the pool, Teddy looked away, suddenly acutely aware of the fact that not only were they alone here and now, but they were sleeping under the same roof. And they’d been trapped up on the lighthouse together, with her slumped against his warm, solid torso last night…
All of a sudden, the pool seemed even hotter, and she smoothed a hand over her wet hair and moved under the cooler waterfall again.
