up to him, put her arms around him, and hold him tight. Assure him he wasn’t alone in this world.
The idea was so preposterous, she stumbled in the sand.
In an instant, Jared was there, reaching out, holding on to her arm and steadying her. Under his hand, heat infused her skin.
“I like your friends,” he said as the breeze blew through his hair.
She wondered if he could feel how erratic her pulse had grown. “They liked you.”
Even in the darkness, she could see him shrug, as if he didn’t believe her words.
He let go of her arm. Instantly, she missed his touch. He reached down and picked up a rock from the beach, tossing it a couple of times in his hand before throwing it into the lake. In the still night they heard the soft kerplunk as the rock hit the water.
Jared stared out at the dark lake for several moments before shoving his fingers down into the pocket of his Levi’s and slowly turning to her. “May I ask you a question?”
“Turnabout is fair play.”
He laughed softly then looked back out across the lake, not saying anything for the longest time. “What the hell is ‘Kumbaya’?”
She started to laugh, then stopped, realizing he was serious. “You don’t know?”
He kicked at a fallen log near his boot. “No.”
Looking at him now reminded her of an earlier thought she’d had tonight. When she’d wondered at just what kind of childhood he’d had. “Weren’t you in Scouts?”
He shot her a puzzled look.
“Cub Scouts. Boy Scouts.”
He laughed, but the sound held no mirth. “No.”
What type of childhood had he had? The question kept circling back around to her. “ ‘Kumbaya’ is a folk song sung at just about every Scout campout there is. Don’t ask me why.”
He nodded, and once more she was struck with the desire to reach out and touch him. Hold him. Instead, she found herself confiding, “My nana always told me this lake was magical. That this water could heal almost anything.”
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Has it healed you, Jenny?”
He said her name like it was a caress. “Yes,” she answered. Then, “Almost.” She searched the shadowy planes of his face. “What about you, Jared? What do you need healed?”
“Nothing.”
“I think you’re lying.”
His dark face gave nothing away. “Believe what you want.”
“I don’t know anything about you.”
“There’s nothing worth telling.”
She knew he was wrong.
Shallow waves rolled up the beach then washed back out.
“Tell me about your childhood.”
She waited, and when the silence became too much, she said, “Please.”
“Leave it alone,” he said in a low, toneless voice.
Boldly, she placed her hand on his chest. Soft cotton covered a wall of hard muscles. “I can’t.”
He reached up, as if to pull her hand away. But, instead, his hand closed around hers. The warmth of him seeped through her shirt and onto her skin right above her heart. The weight of his hand kept hers there for several moments before he pulled hers away.
“Cody told me you haven’t seen your mother since you were eight. Is that true?”
He cursed softly. “Believe me, you don’t want to hear about my childhood.”
“Yes,” she said quietly, “I do.”
Silence stretched out between them.
“Is it true?” she asked again when he didn’t answer.
He looked at her. Even in the semidarkness, the intensity of his blue gaze shot straight through her.
“One question, remember,” she said.
“You already asked your question.”
She shook her head.
“About if I was in Scouts.”
“That didn’t count.”
He reached out and cupped her cheek in the palm of his hand. “Why not?”
The feel of his hand on her stole her breath. “One real question. Please.”
He rubbed his thumb underneath her jaw. “One real question.”
Are you going to break my heart? But she feared she already knew the answer. “When was the last time you saw your mother?”
He let out a ragged breath and took his hand away, averting his gaze to the lake. “When I was eight.”
“But how? Why?”
He shoved his hand back into his pockets. “What do you want to hear? That one day my mother left and never came back? Threw me out like an old pair of shoes?”
“Jared . . .” She couldn’t imagine the type of childhood he was describing. “Where did you live?”
“Drop it, Jenny.”
But she couldn’t. “Where?”
He angled his head and looked at her. “Has anyone ever told you that you are stubborn?”