I set the cooler down, seeing her look around the small, empty beach.
“They do,” I tell her. “But it’s still early. In the winter, though, we’ll have it to ourselves.”
I pull off my shirt and kick off my shoes.
“A frozen lake,” she muses. “To ourselves. Fantastic.”
Cliffs rise in front of us, the water spilling down as trees and foliage surround us, shielding us from heavy sunlight, but to the left, the trees clear a little for the river as it babbles over rocks. Granite and moss fill my nostrils, and I might enjoy the sight if I hadn’t already been here a thousand times.
I look over at Tiernan, liking that view better. She wears a pair of white shorts and one of her own plaid shirts, but it’s pink and blue and fitted like the expensive ones are. I take in her outfit. Is she swimming in that or…?
“You okay?” I ask her, noticing she’s staring off.
But when I follow her gaze, I see she’s watching Kaleb. He climbs the cliff next to the fall, wearing only jeans.
“Yeah.”
“We’re gonna dive,” I tell her. “Wanna come?”
“Dive?” She pulls her shades down over her eyes. “Won’t you scare the fish?”
I chuckle. “Excuses, excuses.”
And I walk into the water, diving in after a few feet. The fall splashes, churning up the cool water, and I can’t keep the grin off my face as I catch up with my brother.
“She’s definitely a reason to stay, isn’t she?” I call up to him, a few feet above me. “I like having her around.”
Kaleb keeps going, crawling the incline to the top of the waterfall.
“Nod once if you’re thinking the things I’m thinking,” I say.
Finally, he glances down at me, his dark eyes dead as usual as he pauses his climb.
But I keep going. “I know you are,” I tease. “You were going at her so hard the other night, she couldn’t get a word out.”
His gaze looks out, back over to the beach where Tiernan is. I look, too, seeing she’s taken off her shirt, sporting a white bikini top on a body she hides damn well under my clothes. Her breasts are almost too big for the top, but she keeps her shorts on as she sits on her blanket, arms resting on her knees and looks up at us through her sunglasses.
“What did she feel like?” I ask.
But when I turn around, Kaleb is climbing again, sweat making his black hair stick to his neck and temples.
“Kaleb?” I grab a pebble and throw it at his legs. “What was it like?”
He scowls down at me but keeps going.
I glance back at her again. My dad squats down next to her, showing her how to bait a hook. I have to give her credit. She is indulging him. I fucking hate fishing.
“I wonder what she feels like when she’s happy,” I tell him. “When she gives herself to someone and lets herself want it.”
I’d love to see what she looks like when she’s alive.
“I hated that yesterday, you know? Seeing her like that.” I don’t know if he’s even listening, but I keep watching her. “She needs us.”
I need another presence in the house if I’m going to make it through another winter here.
I turn back to Kaleb, and he’s stopped. He looks down at me.
“Don’t run her off,” I warn him. “I mean it. If she stays, I’ll stay.” And then I add, “For the winter, anyway.”
Tiernan
“You said you didn’t want to fish,” my uncle says behind me.
I reel in the line, glancing over my shoulder and seeing him approach.
I turn back around.
He found me.
My flannel, tied around my waist, blows against my thighs as the skin on my bare back and shoulders prickles.
He stops next to me, baiting his hook.
After the boys darted off to cliff dive before, Jake tried to get me to fish, droning on about how the reel and rod work and how to cast a line, but I barely listened. Kaleb’s jump off the top of the waterfall made my stomach drop even more than it already had during my interaction with Noah this morning.
I hadn’t wanted him to leave the shower.
I waited for him to touch me.
“You don’t like help, do you?” Jake asks me.
I draw in a breath. Nope. Which is why I decided to sneak over here when you weren’t looking and do it myself.
I watch the water flow where my line disappears under the surface. Do fish actually swim in streams with this much of a current?
“You’re not asking, you know?” he continues, trying to catch my eyes. “I was offering.”
“I’m a loner.”
He snorts under his breath. The current pulls the line, and I reel it in a few inches as he casts his own, the spool singing loudly.
He clears his throat. “So how is it you can shoot, but not fish?”
“I never cared to learn.”
“And now?”
I throw him a look. “I don’t want to be the only one who doesn’t know how.”
I don’t want the boys doing everything for me. And learning new things keeps my mind busy. I can do origami, play three songs on the ukulele, type seventy words a minute, and it only took me three months to train myself to do a handstand.
“Competitive, huh?” he asks.
“No, why?” I arch an eyebrow. “Is that a de Haas family trait?”
“No, a Van der Berg one.”
I look up at him. I expected a remark about my family.
“You’re ours now,” he says and looks down to meet my eyes.
Ours now.
When you’re here, you’re a Van der Berg, Noah had said.
Jake’s soft eyes hold mine, and the way he stares at me makes warmth bubble up in my chest, and I don’t know why. Noah and Kaleb seem miles away.
I look away, suddenly aware he’s half-dressed, but his eyes stay on me. I can see him out of the corner of my eye as I reel my line back in a little. His smell surrounds me—a mixture of grass, coffee, and something else I can’t place.
“These things are like ropes,” he says, and I feel him pick up one of my braids.
He squeezes my thick, blonde braid in his fist and releases it, clearing his throat. “Can I tell you something?” he asks.
I glance at him, my heart beating fast.
“Fish are usually hanging out where there’s a change in current or a change in depth,” he tells me. “See that eddy over there? The still water by the rock?”
I follow where he’s pointing, looking past the small rapid and whitewater, to the small, gently swirling pool.
I nod.
“That’s where we want to get your line,” he explains. “They’ll be waiting for insects, minnows, and all the other little guys to get washed down in the rapid.”
Oh.
That makes sense. I thought fish just swam everywhere.
Setting down his pole, he takes mine, reels it in, and then takes my hand, leading me out into the stream.
I tighten my grip, feeling the grooves of his rough palm in mine, almost wanting to thread my fingers through his just to feel it more.
My feet hit the cold water, my shoes instantly filling up as we tread out a few feet, and he comes up behind me, fitting my hand in his and putting both of ours on the handle.