Part 17 (2/2)

Still, as Bobby and I grew older, we spent more time doing our own thing during my free hour. He might be off catching frogs while I worked on my dolls or helped Wyatt at the still. Now and then, I would find my way to the lake, even knowing that Mother didn't favor it.

The afternoon after my big day in town, Bobby was messing around in the still with Wyatt and Mother had gone off the property. Unable to turn my mind off, I hadn't gotten much sleep the night before and I was dead tired, but I decided to head down to the lake by myself.

Evidently turning eighteen was a very special thing. Suddenly I was valued for more than my purity. Important lawyers wanted to talk to me. I was worth a lot of money, which was a big deal to all of the adults.

For that matter, I was an adult now.

All of it was a bit mind-bending, but that's not the only reason I wanted to be alone. It was Paul, you see? More to the point, his request that I meet him alone in the field the next afternoon.

The 'field,' as we called it, was halfway down the road to his house-a large portion of higher dry ground spotted with trees where Bobby, Paul, and I sometimes hung out when I was allowed. It was the farthest I had ever ventured from the house.

At four o'clock, having dressed properly in rain boots and black slacks with a long-sleeved T-s.h.i.+rt, I grabbed a small blanket, sneaked out of the house, and made my way to the lake. I wasn't breaking any rules, but just knowing that Mother didn't like the lake made me nervous. Either way, I felt I could take this liberty after giving such blessing to so many through the trust money now that I was eighteen.

Spreading the blanket on the gra.s.sy bank, I settled down and stared out over the crystal-smooth water. I'd always been afraid of water, but the one thing I liked about the lake was the view. I could see all the way across to the far side, so far yet so close. Everywhere else on the property, all you could see were trees. Here, the world looked almost never ending and it gave me some calm.

Mother had ruled out fis.h.i.+ng because of the hooks and slimy fish and grime that might harm or defile me. Anyway, I was just as happy to hear Bobby wax eloquent about his skills as he hurled his line out and sometimes reeled in a small catfish with all manner of hoopla.

The water lapped gently on the bank and a hot, late-afternoon stillness hung over the water. It was peaceful, without a soul in sight. All was well.

I ran through the events of the day for a while, thinking about how grateful I should be. I was eighteen now. I was loved and valued. But the more I thought about the last two days, the more unsettled I became.

All should be well, but I didn't feel well. My stomach was tightening into a knot and my brow was sweaty and I wondered why.

I picked up a stick and toyed with it between my pale, nimble fingers.

Maybe I'd become so used to the task of maintaining my purity through endless daily ritual that even the thought of being more than I always had been made me anxious. That's what was happening, right?

No . . . no, it wasn't that. It was this business with Paul. The fact that I wanted to know what it was like to be a girlfriend. To hold a boy's hand. To be special to someone for more than just my ability to stay pure and take away their sin.

To kiss someone.

To kiss Paul.

My mind went blank for a moment. I flicked the stick into the gra.s.s as shame washed over me. Why couldn't I just let the temptation go? I was wicked to the bone, that's what it was. Here I was, eighteen years old, and I was growing more sinful with each pa.s.sing day.

No, Eden . . . It's natural to want to kiss a boy. What do you think all the rest of the people in the world do? Kathryn's put you in a prison and you secretly hate her for it.

The thought came out of nowhere and stopped me cold. How could I think such a thing? I suddenly felt panicky, dreadful, sick to my stomach. If Mother knew I'd had such a thought she would confine me to my closet for a week. I couldn't allow myself to think that way!

I was a blessing, not a prisoner in my own home.

It's not even your real home.

”Stop it!” I muttered.

I had to get back to the house.

I jumped to my feet, grabbed my blanket, and ran back to the house where I went straight to my room and lay down in the comfort of my own bed. This was where I belonged, right? Whatever pathetic complaints might tempt me, this room was my home. I belonged here.

It may seem strange, but the thought of being confined brought me peace, and I embraced it, as I often did. Soon the world around me faded and, tired to the bone, I fell asleep.

I don't know how long I'd been asleep before the vivid dream visited me. In it, I was back at the lake that same afternoon, as if I hadn't left. The breeze blew in my face, the water stretched out to a distant horizon, I was in peace and I closed my eyes, grateful.

That's when I heard the gurgling of water to my right. I snapped my eyes wide and spun around.

There, less than a stone's throw away, just rounding the bend in the sh.o.r.e, came a small rowboat. And in that boat, a man pulling at two oars, guiding the boat toward me.

I froze. A part of me knew that I was in a dream, but only a very small part because the dream was as vivid as any I'd ever had. And right there in front of me was a boat. It was actually there. But in a dream.

I'd seen a few boats on the lake but never so close, and never angling for the sh.o.r.e. My heart pounded and I thought I should turn and run, but my feet didn't want to move.

The man had dark, wavy hair that fell to his shoulders, and he eyed me with interest, wearing a smile. But it was his eyes that drew me as the boat came closer, faster than I would have guessed, effortlessly gliding through the water.

I had to run! I had to get back to the house! Mother would never approve of this.

Why, Eden?

It didn't matter why. She just wouldn't. I was hers and hers alone. No one was supposed to even know I was here!

”h.e.l.lo, my dear.”

The man's voice was low and gentle. He lifted the oars from the water and let the boat slide forward. A wooden boat maybe four feet wide with a single board across the center on which the man sat. He was dressed in blue jeans and a denim jacket, wearing black boots.

”Beautiful day, isn't it?” the man said.

I wasn't sure if I should run, or talk to the man. My mind said run, my heart told me I was eighteen now. It was okay to speak to a stranger even if he was a man.

The boat slid to a stop on the bank and the man looked at me, smiling, eyes as blue as the sky. He wasn't as large as Wyatt, but he looked strong enough to throw me over his shoulder with one hand and hardly notice I was there.

”You're an awfully pretty girl,” he said, voice as gentle as a dove. ”What's your name?”

I hesitated for a moment.

”Eden,” I said.

”Eden.” He said my name as if it held great significance. ”Like the garden of life. You're very lucky to have such a beautiful name.”

Run, my mind screamed.

Wait. Hadn't I just run, only to end up right back here?

Stay, my heart demanded.

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