the kind of man she'd always known she would marry. With Lon there would be no
surprises, and there was comfort in knowing what the future would bring. He would
be a kind husband to her, and she would be a good wife. She would have a home
near friends and family, children, a respectable place in society.
It was the kind of life she'd always expected to live, the kind of life she wanted to
live. And though she wouldn't describe theirs as a passionate relationship, she had
convinced herself long ago that this wasn't necessary to be fulfilled in a relationship,
even with a person she intended to marry. Passion would fade in time, and things
like companionship and compatibility would take its place. She and Lon had this,
and she had assumed this was all she needed. But now, as she watched Noah
rowing, she questioned this basic assumption. He exuded sexuality in everything he
did, everything he was, and she caught herself thinking about him in a way that an
engaged woman shouldn't. She tried not to stare and glanced away often, but the
easy way he moved his body made it hard to keep her eyes from him for long.
"Here we are," Noah said as he guided the canoe toward some trees near the bank.
Allie looked around, not seeing anything. "Where is it?"
"Here," he said again, pointing the canoe at an old tree that had fallen over,
obscuring an opening almost completely hidden from view.
He guided the canoe around the tree, and both of them had to lower their heads to
keep from bumping them.
"Close your eyes," he whispered, and Allie did, bringing her hands to her face. She
heard the baffles of the water and felt the movement of the canoe as he propelled it
forward, away from the pull of the creek.
"Okay," he finally said after he'd stopped paddling. "You can open them now."
sat in the middle of a small lake fed by the waters of Brices Creek. It wasn't large,
maybe a hundred yards across, and she was surprised at how invisible it had been
just moments before.
It was spectacular. Tundra swan and Canada geese literally surrounded them.
Thousands of them. Birds floating so close' together in some places that she
couldn't see the water. From a distance, the groups of swans looked almost like
icebergs.
"Oh, Noah," she finally said softly, "it's beautiful.''
They sat in silence for a long while, watching the birds. Noah pointed out a group
of chicks, recently hatched, following a pack of geese near the shore, struggling
to keep up.
The air was filled with honking and chirping as Noah moved the canoe through the
water. The birds ignored them for the most part. The only ones who seemed
bothered were those forced to move when the canoe approached them. Allie
reached out to touch the closest ones and felt their feathers ruffling under her
fingers.
Noah brought out the bag of bread he'd brought earlier and handed it to Allie. She
scattered the bread, favoring the little ones, laughing and smiling as they swam
in circles, looking for food.
They stayed until thunder boomed in the distance‐‐faint but powerful‐‐and both of
them knew it was time to leave.
Noah led them back to the current of the creek, paddling stronger than he had
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