Pine Lake

“Sometimes I sleepwalk. I have these falling dreams—”

“You’re not going to fall. If you go, I go and I’m not in the mood for a swim. So here’s what I need you to do. Right now, you’re lying on your left side facing out toward the water. Take a moment to get your bearings.”

“I can see cypress trees. There’s a light somewhere below us—”

“Don’t look down. Stay focused on the task at hand. Listen to me carefully. I need you to roll to your stomach, but there’s not a lot of space to operate. I’d say about a foot, give or take.”

She put out a hand and felt nothing but air. “I can’t. There isn’t enough room.”

“If there’s room enough for you to curl up and sleep, there’s enough room for you to roll over. Besides, you’re small. You don’t need much space.”

“I can’t. Please don’t make me.”

He was silent for a moment. “What’s your name?”

“Olive Belmont.”

“Olive? As in Nathan Bolt’s cousin?” He sounded surprised.

“Yes. You know Nathan?”

“We go back. Listen to me, Olive. We’re going to do this together, okay? I’m right here with you. You’ll be able to see me in a moment. Put your right hand on the support and clamp your fingers around the edge. Do the same with your left as you slowly position yourself facedown.”

Olive clutched the edge, but she didn’t roll over. Not for the longest time. Then drawing a breath, she slowly shifted her body. The rafter rocked and the whole frame seemed to shimmy. She froze. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. This bridge isn’t going anywhere. Just take your time. That’s it. Nice and easy.”

Olive tried to ignore the metallic screeches and the disorienting sway of the structure beneath her. Instead, she let that soothing voice guide her as she maneuvered her hands and body until she lay face down on the support, still breathing hard and trembling.

“Good job. Now you’re going to get on your hands and knees and slowly crawl toward me. Got it?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t look down, look at me. Whenever you’re ready.”

Olive rose on hands and knees, balancing herself on the precarious beam. The light from below provided enough illumination so that she could see the silhouette of the man facing her.

“Follow me, Olive. Nice and slow. We’re in no hurry. We have all night.”

His voice flowed over her, so honeyed, so comforting in the dark. She could see the gleam of his eyes, the curve of his jaw. He seemed very steady on the rafter. Not the least bit afraid.

She drew a deep breath and released it. “I’m ready.”

They began to move slowly, inch by inch toward the end of the bridge. He had the more difficult job because he was maneuvering backward on the unsteady support. He didn’t look over his shoulder or down at the water. He kept his eyes trained on Olive. She tried to do the same. She didn’t dare look out over the lake. She didn’t dare peer down into that misty abyss.

“Almost there. You’re doing great, but I need you to stay focused, okay? I need you to stay calm.” He came to a halt and she did the same. His eyes gleamed in the dark as he held her gaze. “Now comes the tricky part.”

“The tricky part?” she echoed faintly.

“We’re going to lower ourselves over the side. The braces form a sort of ladder at the end of the horizontal beam. I imagine that’s how you got up here.”

“I don’t remember.”

“It’s not as hard as it sounds. I climbed this thing more times than I could count as a kid. Nathan did, too.”

“That doesn’t sound like Nathan,” she said.

“It took a lot of double-dog daring.”

She heard a smile in his voice and shivered. “I’m ready.”

He went over the side first, finding his footing and then clinging with one hand as he waited for her. Olive counted to ten and then eased into position, lowering her legs and grappling for a foothold. The movement must have put too much pressure on the rusty bolts. She heard a loud snap and then one end of the beam dropped out from under her. For one heart-stopping moment, she found herself in a free fall.

Then a hand clamped around her wrist. “Easy now. I’ve got you.”

“Don’t let go!” she pleaded.

“Not a chance,” he said as he tightened his grip.

Chapter Three (#ue6b58201-9381-5980-ba81-7339b74a0793)

He pulled her up to the ladder and then his arm came around her, holding her close as she found her footing. Now that one end of the beam had popped free, the integrity of the structure was even more compromised. The struts clanged ominously as Olive and her rescuer began their descent. At deck level, he climbed over the guardrail and helped her through. She clutched his arm, mindful of all those missing planks and the glisten of water far below.

“Let’s get off this thing,” he said and took her hand, leading her from the bridge. When they were safely on the bank, she stopped and bent double, catching her breath.

“Are you okay?”

She drew in air. “I just need a moment.”

“You did great,” he said.

She sucked in several more breaths before she straightened. She could see him more clearly now. He was tall and slim with broad shoulders and long legs. Dark hair, dark eyes. Tantalizingly familiar.

She could see him so well, in fact, she wondered if the moon was up, but then she realized the light came from a bobbing boat at the edge of the water.

“I don’t know how I can ever thank you. If you hadn’t found me when you did...” She trailed off on another shudder. “How did you even know to look for me up there?”

“I didn’t. It was just a lucky break.” He paused. “You really don’t remember how you got up there?”

“I don’t even know how I got to the lake. I have no memory of leaving my house.” She glanced down at her bare feet, realizing for the first time that she was in her pajamas. The fabric was summer-weight cotton. Sheer if the light hit her just right, but modesty was the least of her worries. She pulled a leaf from her hair and watched it swirl to the ground. “I don’t remember anything.”

“What about sounds?” he asked. “Did you hear any loud noises? A car engine maybe?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. But sleepwalking occurs in deep sleep. I never remember anything.”

He stared down at her for a moment. “Do you do this often?”

“No, not in years. I had a sleep disorder in my early teens, but I thought I’d outgrown it. Anyway, the point is, it’s like having amnesia. I don’t even know what awakened me.”