An angular stone jutted like a tooth and jabbed the arch of her foot. She pitched in the opposite direction, fully soaking the hem of her shorts. Her other ankle wrenched, and she bit back a curse. She was like a moose on roller skates—her awkwardness on full display for his enjoyment. “You’ve been laughing at me since June.”

His smile only widened. “You noticed?”

Her cheeks flamed. “I could hardly miss it. What’s so funny?”

He heaved the rock into a crevasse and turned. “You.”

With his hands on his hips and his legs spread wide, he towered like a mountain creek deity. She spluttered. “Me?”

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “You.”

Hugging her middle, she stared at her feet. They were pitiably fragile beneath the rippling surface—so pale as to be almost blue against brownish-gray stones. Shame burned in her lungs, banishing the chill. And she actually thought he liked her.

A gentle laugh rumbled from his chest. “Now, don’t stand there like somebody spilled your milk. Tessa Rose, you surprised and delighted me the first day we met, and you have surprised and delighted me every single day since.”

So, he hadn’t laughed at her? He’d been laughing because of her? She jerked up her head. “I surprise you?” Her voice rose to a squeak. “Like in a good way?”

“Just look at you.” His face softened. “You’re a gift.”

The air between them undulated like an invisible curtain caught in a strong gust. His image wavered before her eyes. For just a heartbeat, time itself possibly broke. Oceans dried and filled and dried again. Stars were born. Then, in the meadow, a red-winged blackbird warbled okalee-okalee and started the earth spinning again.

She was lightheaded and trembly…or faint from hypothermia. Possibly both. Silencing every voice that urged caution, she dove headfirst into the arctic waters of Jonas’s swimming hole. Her heart stopped, and angels chorused in her head as she slid like a mermaid under the surface. The pond was nearly four feet deep, and she opened her eyes to striped minnows skittering beneath stones.

With a gasp, she emerged, her hair tumbling in wet spirals around her face. Jonas gazed from the dam, his expression as intent as hers was doubtlessly euphoric.

Without a sound, he dove.

She tracked his long, lean body cutting through the water.

He surfaced inches away, breathing fast. “You’re shivering.”

His voice was rough. Her own breath came in shuddering starts. “The water’s cold.”

“I warned you.” Beneath the surface, he pressed his palms forward.

An underwater wave pulsed over her thighs. “You did.” His mouth curved upward, and his cheek creased the way it did every single time he smiled.

He stepped nearer and hooked an arm around her waist. “We’re drenched again.”