“It’s as if it’s sleeping,” Lily whispered, “totally at peace.”

“If you’re up for it,” Chase said quietly, careful not to break the spell, “there’s a spot a little farther up the beach that I think you’d like.”

Lily turned to her, and for a second, that expression Chase doubted she was aware of settled over her face—calm and impenetrable as she made her decision. Chase didn’t know what she was thinking or how she decided, but she’d seen it several times that day. Lily’s eyes would come alive as soon as she’d charted a course.

They sparkled now in her direction, and Lily said, “Lead on.”

Under other circumstances, with another woman, Chase might have interpreted that as an invitation, but she knew this wasn’t. Lily Davenport did not strike her as the kind of woman who made roundabout innuendos. Chase had been looking for—hoping for, more than she wanted to admit—some signal of interest from Lily but hadn’t seen one. Now she could accept the reality there was none or keep hoping that Lily was very good at not showing her intentions. Since she wasn’t anywhere close to giving up, she’d hold out for the latter.

As they walked along the shore, she could have released Lily’s hand, as the going was much smoother, and she’d already clicked off the flashlight so only moonlight illuminated the path, but Lily made no move to draw away, and she didn’t want to let go. Lily’s hand was smooth and warm and firm, and her fingers curled around Chase’s as if they liked being there. Chase took her around the bend into the little cove where a wooden dock, long and not much wider than she was tall, stretched out into the placid lake.

“Come on out here,” Chase said and led Lily out to the end of the dock. Water lapped gently against the pilings, and the dock swayed softly like a woman dancing in her arms. “Take your shoes off.”

“What?” Lily actually croaked, and Chase stifled a laugh.

“Take off your shoes and socks.” Chase unlaced her boots and pulled them off along with her socks and sat on the end of the dock. After a few seconds of hesitation, Lily removed her running shoes and socks and sat down beside her.

“Now put your feet in the water.”

“Oh no. No way,” Lily said adamantly. “It’s dark down there. There could be anything down there. In fact, there is anything—many anythings—down there. No.”

Laughing, Chase nudged Lily’s shoulder teasingly. “Okay, I’ll go first.”

She dangled her legs over the side, and the warm water came up to the middle of her calves. “Nothing down there but my toes.”

Lily peered down. “I can’t see a thing. This close, the water is black.”

“I know you’re not afraid of the dark.”

“I’m afraid of quite a lot of things,” Lily said softly in that tone that told Chase she was thinking of those moments when the crisis had been at its worst. Moments Chase could only try to imagine and knew she couldn’t even come close.