An Unlikely Love. Dorothy Clark

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СКАЧАТЬ There was nothing in today’s session that would help him with the vineyard, and it was getting dark. He frowned at the dusky light and pulled his watch from his pocket. The steamer would be leaving soon. The “chance” meeting with Marissa would have to wait until tomorrow. With all the people crowding the path, he’d be fortunate to reach the shore in time to catch the steamer for home. Unless there was another way.

      A narrow trail on his left parted the woods. Light filtering through the branches of the trees lit its downward slope. He glanced back at the crowd on the main path, entered the woods and followed the winding way. The sound of voices faded, gave way to birds twittering their night songs. He stepped cautiously through a cluster of pines where it was too dark to see clearly and entered a clearing. Tents formed rows laid out like streets to his left and right. Children laughed and played games, chased one another in and out of the trees. Adults talked over cooking fires. The smell of coffee tantalized his nose. He took a deep sniff, looked around. The path had disappeared.

      A woman wearing a long apron straightened from a cooking fire, rubbed her back and looked his way. “You took the wrong path if you’re going to the concert. Or else you don’t care if you get there late.” She motioned to her left. “The main path is a short piece that way.”

      He smiled his gratitude. “Thank you. I thought this trail might be a faster way to the shore. Obviously, I was wrong.” He gave her another smile. “Did you say there was a concert tonight?”

      The woman nodded and brushed a strand of hair off her forehead with the back of her hand. “Down on the shore. Isn’t that where you was headed? It seems like everybody is going—except those of us with young’uns to watch over. You’d best hurry if you hope to attend. It started at dusk.”

      “Thank you. You’ve been very helpful. Perhaps I will attend.” He smiled and dipped his head. “Have a good evening.”

      “And you. Mind your step, there’s pines along that path and their roots will trip the unwary.”

      The woman’s words followed him into the darkness beneath the pines. He picked his way to the wider path and started down, joined with others coming out of narrow side paths and clearings to merge with the crowd ahead of him. He wasn’t the only one late for the concert. There had to be a hundred or more people within his limited scope of vision.

      He scanned the crowd for Marissa’s blond curls as he walked, though he knew it for a fruitless effort. The dusky light made all of the ladies’ hair seem dark. He snorted at his own foolishness and glanced up at the darkening sky. It wouldn’t be long now until the Colonel Phillips made its last run of the day. He’d sit on the dock and listen to the music until they ran out the gangplank and he could go aboard.

      Music sounded in the distance. He followed those ahead of him out of the trees onto the shore, stopped and stared. The failing light made it difficult to see, but he was almost certain... He smiled and started forward.

      * * *

      Marissa lifted her hems and moved closer to the lake. A warm, gentle breeze carrying soft music from the concert down the lakefront caressed her face and fluttered the curls at her forehead and temples. She stopped and brushed back the curls, gazed at the Colonel Phillips floating on the silvered water at the end of the dock, its lanterns golden orbs against the evening sky.

      May I assist you to your destination? Sun-streaked hair above a handsome face with a disarming smile rushed back from the oblivion to which she’d assigned them. Seeing Grant Winston at the dining hall this afternoon had brought back the memories of him on the boat. She sighed and shook her head. It was foolishness to entertain romantic thoughts about a man she would likely never see again. But he was so nice. And it was such a perfect night for dreaming...

      “Miss Bradley?”

      She froze. It couldn’t be. She turned, stared at the object of her dreaming. “Mr. Winston!” Heat rushed across her cheeks.

      “At your service.” He smiled and dipped his head.

      She nodded a greeting, pressed her hand over her pounding heart and struggled to order her scattered thoughts.

      A frown pulled his straight dark eyebrows together. “I’m sorry if I startled you, Miss Bradley. But you were so lost in thought you didn’t notice me.”

      Thoughts about him! The heat in her cheeks increased. She fussed with a fold in her skirt for an excuse to put her head down. “I was admiring the sight of the Colonel Phillips against the night sky.” Don’t mention the steamer! “And the lake, of course. Even the silvered water is lovely—from a safe distance.” She pressed her lips together to stop her babbling. There was no point in letting the man see that the unfortunate timing of his appearance had her completely undone. It served her right for dreaming about him.

      A smile curved his lips. “There is no quivering deck under your feet here.”

      It wasn’t her feet that were quivering. It was her stomach. She lifted her head, gave him a polite, if somewhat forced, smile and groped for a change of subject. “How did you find me?” Oh, dear. She’d made it sound as if he were on a quest of some sort! “I mean, what do you want?” And that was worse! She stared at him, aghast at her lack of manners.

      His gaze traveled slowly over her face, came to rest on her eyes.

      The apology she was about to offer died on her lips.

      “You have a penchant for standing alone away from the crowd, Miss Bradley. And you are the only person on this part of the shore. I took a chance that it was you.”

      His gaze held hers. He had warm brown eyes. So...warm... The quivering spread to her knees. She broke the eye contact, clenched her hands to keep from pressing them against her stomach and wished he’d stop talking long enough that she could gather her wits together.

      “Would you care to stroll with me along the shoreline until it is time for my steamer to leave, Miss Bradley?”

      Did he think her bold like Clarice? She pushed at her curls, pretended to adjust her hat to stall for time. His request was innocent enough to be acceptable. What could she say? I’m sorry, Mr. Winston, but you make me nervous? It wasn’t his fault that she’d been dreaming. She looked down at his offered arm, nodded and slipped her hand in the crook of his elbow. It felt natural and secure, as if it belonged there. She thrust the thought from her, lifted her hems with her free hand and strolled beside him.

      “Did you come to the shore for the concert, Miss Bradley? Or only to admire the view of the lake by night?”

      “I came for the concert—along with everyone else here at Chautauqua, it seems. I’ve never seen so many people in one place. Which is why I am on this side of the dock.” She gave a small laugh, focused her thoughts on answering his question to keep from thinking about his closeness. “The loveliness of the lake view was a pleasant surprise.” She looked at the water slipping along the shore at his side. “Although I cannot say I find it so at the moment. Now that I’m close, the water simply looks dark and dangerous.”

      “It’s not that way once you know how to swim. It’s really quite refreshing to dive into the water on a hot summer’s day.”

      His smile was too charming. “Ah...” She gave him a sidelong look and shook her head. “I shall no longer be ashamed of my cowardice concerning water, Mr. Winston. I see now why you were so comfortable on the steamer. You live on the lake. Though СКАЧАТЬ