“Drink slower next time.”
When my legs stop shaking, I finally take in our surroundings.
The snide remark I’m building dies on my tongue.
There’s a small body of water, maybe fifty feet across, nestled into a bowl of stone and pine. A waterfall cascades down the far end, the sound of it filling the space like white noise. Mist hangs in the air where the water hits the rocks, and the trees bend toward the alcove instead of away, like they’re guarding it.
“What is this place?” I breathe.
Lance nods toward the waterfall. “You like it?”
“Like it? It’s one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been.”
Cavall splashes into the shallow water, dips his head for a noisy drink, flops down, then pounces back to us and shakes his entire body.
“Agh!” I screech, hands flying up.
A genuine grin cracks across Lance’s face. “I think he has a crush on you.”
“Yeah, well.” I pull my wet shirt away from my torso and lift it to wipe the flecks of water off my face. “His manners could use some work.”
I drop my shirt and Lance’s grin is gone.
His gaze is fixed on where I’d lifted the fabric, and the air goes thick.
My skin prickles where the damp cloth clings.
He blinks and looks away, jaw clenching.
I clear my throat. “How’d you find this place?”
“Art and I used to come here as kids. Sank a raft once, then sat on those rocks and bitched about our families for hours. Threw a lot of good parties, too.”
The name settles between us like a grenade. Being here, in this beautiful place that belongs to Lance and Art’s history,makes it feel like I’m standing in the middle of their friendship, and asking Lance to choose a side.
I don’t even know what sideI’mon, yet.
“Behind that waterfall,” he says, breaking the quiet, “there’s an alcove. Completely hidden from view.”
He hesitates, throat bobbing.
“People use it when they want privacy. But my brother Alex used to tell us a different story. About the Lady of the Lake. Said she fell in love with our great-grandfather, who would come here. He’d take her behind the falls and make love to her, promising her the world.”
“No,” I gasp, enthralled. “Is it true?”
“I doubt it. Alex loved telling us ghost stories when we’d camp. But the story goes that she’d trail down from the water trying to reach him in town, but never could. And one day, she stopped trying to leave at all. Alex said her spirit still roams there, forever longing for a love that won’t love her back.”
Something tugs deep in my chest. “Can we go back there?”
“Not today.”
I frown. “Then why’d you even bring me here?”
“Because I wanted you to see a side of Rosebrook that was something you could have. Nobody will come up here and tell you where to go, or how to be, or…” He shrugs. “After everything you learned, I thought you could use something that was just for you. A place to get away.”
I don’t know what to say to that. So I just look at the waterfall, and the mist, and the autumn trees bending toward us, and let the silence hold it.
“Don’t thank me yet,” he says after a moment. “You’ll hate me again when we do more tomorrow.”
