deck chair and realized that if she sat down, she would sink into it and fall asleep again.
It was late afternoon and the sun was so low it peeped through the willows and oaks and dazzled and lulled her. She bit back a yawn. How could she be sleepy and aroused at the same time? Embarrassed, she cast about for something to say. “Your picnic table looks like Lilly’s.”
“It should. Wyatt made both of them.”
“Wyatt is a professional woodcarver?” Federica asked, startled.
“Nah.” Jack shot her an amused glance. “He just dabbles in woodworking. But he’s good at picnic tables and shelves.” He looked at her closely. “Listen, why don’t you go down and look at the river while I cook? It’s real pretty and relaxing. It’s also a part of the history of Carson’s Bluff. It’s where gold was found in 1878 and every hungry drifter west of the Rockies came rushing over. I seem to remember telling you the whole story,” he smiled slyly, “but you slept right through it.”
“I’d had—” Federica began defensively.
“A hard day. I know.” Jack went into the house and came out with a wet cloth and some plates. Gorgeous plates, Federica couldn’t help noticing, in Lilly’s distinct vivid colors. He wiped the picnic table. “Look, you go on down and commune with the river while I fix dinner. Just don’t fall asleep.”
“I’ll try not to.” Federica shot him a wry look. Probably everyone in Carson’s Bluff thought she suffered from narcolepsy.
“You want leather or feather?”
The steak the night before had been tough and undigestible. What could go wrong with chicken? “Feather.”
“Right.” Jack shooed her away. “Go and relax. You’ve had—”
“—a hard day,” Federica finished for him. She wondered if he knew she ordinarily put in twelve-hour days.
Maybe he did.
She smiled and tipped back an imaginary ten-gallon hat with her thumb. “Thanks. Well, pardner,” she said in a very bad imitation of John Wayne, “think I’ll just mosey on down to the river and rest mah weary bones.”
“Don’t work too hard while you’re at it.”
“Nope,” she assured him. “Shore won’t.”
She wandered down a charmingly unkempt lawn with more clover and alfalfa than grass, until she came to the steep riverbank she’d had just a glimpse of at Lilly’s. Federica sat down on the rim of the bank and watched the river flow gently past.
It was hypnotic. The river shone silver in the late evening sun and she could count two trout at least, maybe more, making bubbles and shimmers in the water.
The water was so clear she could see the gray stones and beige sand of the bottom. The water burbled by, flowing neatly over a large granite boulder, making a rippling noise Federica found incredibly soothing. Two giant willows on either side of the bank dangled drooping green tendrils in the water. She was hypnotized by the peace and beauty of the river. She let herself sink into a place where there was no yesterday, no tomorrow, only an endless, peaceful now.
This is meditation, she thought.
How many times she’d tried to meditate in an anonymous hotel room, hoping to quiet jangled nerves and prepare herself for a nerve-wracking meeting. She even had her own mantra, but it never worked.
This was the first time she truly understood all those New Age truisms. Go with the flow. You are a part of the Universe. You are part of the tapestry of life.
They’d all seemed such hackneyed phrases, until she found herself melting into the flowing river, dissolving into the willows, part of the peace of the sunlit evening. Federica didn’t even notice the passage of time until she felt Jack’s hand on her shoulder. It felt as right, as elemental, as the river and the trees and the trout.
“Feels good out here, doesn’t it?” he asked quietly.
He knew. Somehow he knew.
“Mm-hmm.”
“When you’re ready, I’ll feed you.”
The food was delicious. Somehow, Federica was
It was late afternoon and the sun was so low it peeped through the willows and oaks and dazzled and lulled her. She bit back a yawn. How could she be sleepy and aroused at the same time? Embarrassed, she cast about for something to say. “Your picnic table looks like Lilly’s.”
“It should. Wyatt made both of them.”
“Wyatt is a professional woodcarver?” Federica asked, startled.
“Nah.” Jack shot her an amused glance. “He just dabbles in woodworking. But he’s good at picnic tables and shelves.” He looked at her closely. “Listen, why don’t you go down and look at the river while I cook? It’s real pretty and relaxing. It’s also a part of the history of Carson’s Bluff. It’s where gold was found in 1878 and every hungry drifter west of the Rockies came rushing over. I seem to remember telling you the whole story,” he smiled slyly, “but you slept right through it.”
“I’d had—” Federica began defensively.
“A hard day. I know.” Jack went into the house and came out with a wet cloth and some plates. Gorgeous plates, Federica couldn’t help noticing, in Lilly’s distinct vivid colors. He wiped the picnic table. “Look, you go on down and commune with the river while I fix dinner. Just don’t fall asleep.”
“I’ll try not to.” Federica shot him a wry look. Probably everyone in Carson’s Bluff thought she suffered from narcolepsy.
“You want leather or feather?”
The steak the night before had been tough and undigestible. What could go wrong with chicken? “Feather.”
“Right.” Jack shooed her away. “Go and relax. You’ve had—”
“—a hard day,” Federica finished for him. She wondered if he knew she ordinarily put in twelve-hour days.
Maybe he did.
She smiled and tipped back an imaginary ten-gallon hat with her thumb. “Thanks. Well, pardner,” she said in a very bad imitation of John Wayne, “think I’ll just mosey on down to the river and rest mah weary bones.”
“Don’t work too hard while you’re at it.”
“Nope,” she assured him. “Shore won’t.”
She wandered down a charmingly unkempt lawn with more clover and alfalfa than grass, until she came to the steep riverbank she’d had just a glimpse of at Lilly’s. Federica sat down on the rim of the bank and watched the river flow gently past.
It was hypnotic. The river shone silver in the late evening sun and she could count two trout at least, maybe more, making bubbles and shimmers in the water.
The water was so clear she could see the gray stones and beige sand of the bottom. The water burbled by, flowing neatly over a large granite boulder, making a rippling noise Federica found incredibly soothing. Two giant willows on either side of the bank dangled drooping green tendrils in the water. She was hypnotized by the peace and beauty of the river. She let herself sink into a place where there was no yesterday, no tomorrow, only an endless, peaceful now.
This is meditation, she thought.
How many times she’d tried to meditate in an anonymous hotel room, hoping to quiet jangled nerves and prepare herself for a nerve-wracking meeting. She even had her own mantra, but it never worked.
This was the first time she truly understood all those New Age truisms. Go with the flow. You are a part of the Universe. You are part of the tapestry of life.
They’d all seemed such hackneyed phrases, until she found herself melting into the flowing river, dissolving into the willows, part of the peace of the sunlit evening. Federica didn’t even notice the passage of time until she felt Jack’s hand on her shoulder. It felt as right, as elemental, as the river and the trees and the trout.
“Feels good out here, doesn’t it?” he asked quietly.
He knew. Somehow he knew.
“Mm-hmm.”
“When you’re ready, I’ll feed you.”
The food was delicious. Somehow, Federica was
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