“About fifteen feet deep, I’d say. Maybe twenty in places.” Laurel dropped to her knees and then pushed herself onto her stomach so that she lay flat against the warm stone. She inched forward until her head and shoulders were over the water and reached down so that her hand skimmed the surface.
Call felt some trepidation watching her but he stayed his ground. “What are you doing?”
She turned her head to look at him at the same time she cupped her hand in the water. “This!” She scooped a handful of water and tossed it in his direction. Very little found its target, but it was enough to satisfy her. Water droplets glistened in his neatly trimmed beard. For just a moment they looked like diamonds. She grinned because the sparkle did not suit him at all.
Call swiped at his face. “Nice. You probably are feeling confident that I won’t retaliate. I will. You just won’t know when.”
Laurel grinned. “Come over here. I promise I won’t push you in. That would be cruel.” When he hesitated, she added, “And I’m not going to throw more water at you. Come. Lie down here.”
Call moved closer, stopped when he reached the level of her knees. If he leaned forward, he could see over the lip of the stone he was standing on. “I believe it is incumbent upon me to tell you that I can’t swim. I’m saying that in the event you go back on your word not to toss me in the drink.”
“Really? You can’t swim?”
“I really can’t.”
“Now that is a shame.”
“Is it?”
She raised herself up on her elbows and patted the stone slab. “Come down here and put your hand in the water. You’ll see.”
Call regarded her doubtfully. After another moment’s hesitation, he hunkered beside her.
“Almost there,” she said. “Stretch out.”
He took off his hat and set it between them then he assumed a position identical to hers.
Laurel dropped off her elbows and reached for the water again with one arm. “Like this,” she told him. She stirred the water with her hand. “Put your oar in.”
Call slipped an arm over the lip of the stone. There was no point in dipping his fingers to get a feel for it so he thrust his hand under. And pulled it out immediately. “Jesus. That’s cold.”
She laughed. “Well, yes. I know it looks a little as if it’s simmering but it’s mountain spring water. What did you expect?”
“Not that it would freeze my arm up to the elbow.”
“Hardly. Go on. Do it again. You’ll get used to it.”
“I’ll be numb to it.” He put in his hand again and moved it back and forth as she was doing. “You swam in this?”
“Mostly splashed around with my brothers, but yes, swimming was required. The water is marginally warmer in July and August.”
Call turned his head to look up at where the water spilled over the rocky ledge above them. He made it to be about one hundred feet. “You’ve been up there?”
“Not recently, but yes, when I was young and foolish. It’s a difficult climb. My brothers dared me to jump. They swore they both had done it so naturally I had to try.”
“Did you jump?”
“I didn’t have to. They got scared when I reached the top and hollered at me to come down. They admitted that they’d lied.”
“Do you think you would have done it if they hadn’t said anything?”
Laurel shook her head. “I know I wouldn’t have. I was never that young or that foolish. From up there, this pool of water looks awfully small. I thought jumping in fromthat height would be like threading a needle and I’m not much of a seamstress.”
Call’s eyes followed the swift descent of the water. That she had even made the climb contemplating that jump was alarming. He wondered at what point her brothers had regretted their dare. Withdrawing his hand from the water, Call shook it out and sat up. He crossed his legs tailor-fashion. “Did your father find out?”
“Of course.” Laurel sat up as well. She raised her knees toward her chest and hugged them. “But not because I told on them. George and Martin told on themselves because they didn’t trust me to keep quiet and it would have been worse for them if I tattled.”
“Did they often do things like that to you?”
