“I wish I felt better,” Vance slurred as I massaged the salt into his firm shoulders and back, “so I could enjoy your hands all over me.”

“Behave, or I’ll make you do it yourself,” I warned, focusing on keeping my hands steady. Boy, was it testing my resolve to keep Vance at arm’s length and to behave myself. To say his body was nice was an understatement. Even in this puny state, his lean, athletic build was admirable.

His head bobbled around, taking in the sight before us. “The water is so clear you can see all the way to the bottom.”

“The pond was cut out of rock is why. About a hundred or so acres back here are nothing but rock.”

Pa had made a pretty penny off the rock that was dug out for the pond, and the contractor begged and pleaded with Pa to let him quarry the rest of it, but he refused. Between a small inheritance from his father and the rock money, I never had to worry too much about finances, at least. There was enough to worry about without that.

I pointed a ways off to the right. “You see the red wagon on the bottom over there?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s forty-some feet deep in that one spot. Pa had them dig until they hit a natural spring, so it could feed our swimming hole.”

“How’d the wagon get down there?”

“Boss and Peg got the wild notion that the wagon would float like a boat. Took about a minute to realize their mistake. It sank too fast to rescue. They confessed to Pa what they did, wanting to know if there was any way he could fish it out.” I cupped a palmful of water and rinsed Vance’s chest before scrubbing some more salt against a stubborn spot of gum near his side, making him flinch. “Ticklish?”

Vance grunted when I hit the same spot again. “Yeah. So your dad couldn’t get the wagon out?”

I’d forgotten all about the story and had gotten caught up in cleaning his torso. Face heating, I relocated the wagon underneath the glittery clear water. “He said he could, with a backhoe, but he left it there as a lesson.” I offered him the jar of tea when his body spasmed into another heave.

After only managing one small sip, he handed it to me and asked, “What was the lesson?”

I was impressed he could keep focus in the midst of this sick state, considering my difficulty focusing in my state of perfect health. His mostly naked body was to blame. Blinking away from it once again, I fastened my eyes on the wagon. “When something is created for a certain purpose, don’t go playing God, thinking it’s needed for another.”