CHAPTER TWENTY

The rain had eased up somewhat by the time she turned onto the dirt road of the ranch, but Pat was still thankful Carly had left the gate open for her. She pulled up to Carly's now covered Jeep and ran to the porch. She raised her hand to knock just as the door opened.

"Didn't want me sneaking up on you today?" Pat asked.

"I've been waiting," Carly said. "Come inside." She stood back and let Pat enter, then closed the door behind her. Pat took off her raincoat and pulled off her cap, shaking her long dark hair. Carly could only stare. No woman had the right to look that good in jeans.

"So, an egret," Pat said. "Are you sure it wasn't a heron?" she teased.

"Funny. Don't think I won't drown you if I get the chance."

Pat laughed, a loud, rich laugh that Carly found delightful.

Pat found Carly's huge smile delightful.

"Here," Pat said. She handed Carly her business card. "My cell number is on the back."

"Thanks."

"It's been raining non-stop. What possessed you to wander outside?"

"I pulled my Jeep into the old barn Sunday after you left. I walked there today to put the top on, then decided to drive the back roads. There's a pond in the back. A rather large pond. That's where I found them. Snowy Egrets," she said.

"Oh. I know that one. Dark legs with yellow feet."

"My, my. We'll make a birdwatcher out of you yet."

"Don't threaten me, Carly. That label will never apply to me. I refuse to end up like old Mrs. Davenport."

"I can't wait to meet this woman. Between you and Rachel, she's practically a birding legend around here."

"So, you really want to brave the rain? We could wait for a sunny day," Pat suggested.

"I would really like to use them in the brochure. That is, if you think you can get a shot in this mess."

"It'll be dark, but I can try. In weather like this, shooting a white bird, the color will look washed out. But maybe they can touch it up." Pat pulled on her raincoat again. "I'm ready if you are."

They took Pat's Jeep. The rain had let up even more but dark clouds hovered to the north, a threat of more rain to come.

"There's the barn," Carly said, pointing to the structure that had seen better days. "Looks bad on the outside, but I didn't find any leaks."

Pat drove down the bumpy road, pausing when it forked. She looked at Carly with raised eyebrows.

"To the left."

Just a short way down the road, Pat saw the water. The pond, obviously dug to supply the cattle with fresh water, was larger than she imagined. The oaks and brush had grown right up to the edge on the far side and she suspected that this was where Carly had found her nest.

"I saw the bird over there, in the shallow part. I was so thrilled to find him here, I never suspected they had a nest."

"Did you see both parents?"

"Yes. And I think there are only two young. I didn't get very close. I didn't want to disturb them." She pulled out her binoculars and scanned the brush, looking for white in all the green. She finally found the head of the egret. She handed Pat the binoculars. "They are to the right, about three o'clock," she said.

Pat searched the trees, finally spotting one egret on the ground. She looked higher and found the other, she assumed on the nest. Or nearby. Did egrets sit on nests?

"Got them." Pat lowered the glasses and studied the area, planning the best route to take. From the left, she decided. There would be less cover but she would more likely get a clean shot from there. She reached into the back and pulled out her camera bag, taking the smaller lens off the camera and replacing it with the 500mm. The lighting wasn't good for the larger lens but she doubted she would get close enough to use the smaller one. She shoved it into her coat pocket just in case. "Okay, wish me luck."

"Wait, you won't disturb them, will you? I mean, I want the shot, but I don't want to run them off."

"I promise I won't get too close."

She got out and closed the door silently, taking slow, quiet steps away from the Jeep. Carly watched as she disappeared into the brush, wondering why she was going away from the nest. But a short time later, Pat reappeared, now much closer to the nest, but still in the cover of the brush. Carly picked up the binoculars and watched the egrets. They didn't seem to notice Pat.

The steady dripping of the rain on the canvas top increased and Carly wondered if Pat would be able to get a shot before the next downpour hit. She raised the glasses and focused on Pat. The woman's clear complexion and tanned face appeared, intense eyes glued on the nest. She barely moved.

"Jesus, but she's attractive," Carly whispered. "Why does she have to be so attractive?"

Pat inched along, her boots silent on the wet leaves. She barely noticed the rain. When the egret on the ground, presumably the male, flicked its head in her direction, she froze. After a few seconds, it looked away and Pat moved again, slowly, silently.

"So that's how she sneaks up on me," Carly murmured. If the birds knew of her presence, they didn't show it. Finally, with hardly any movement at all, Pat raised the camera.

Both birds looked her way at the sound of the shutter and Pat kept still, camera still held to her eyes. With her thumb, she advanced the film, waiting until they looked away. The light wasn't as bad as she'd feared, but they would still be washed out. She snapped several more, finding that the egret was indeed sitting on the nest. She wanted to change the lens. She needed to get closer but she was totally exposed. She suspected the birds were getting nervous and she'd promised Carly she wouldn't disturb them.

Carly held her breath as the male fidgeted on the ground. "No closer," she whispered.

When she looked again at Pat, she noticed that the woman had moved back several feet. The male settled back down. But they all jumped at the crack of thunder overhead. The downpour had begun.

Pat finally became aware of the rain as it ran down her back. She hadn't put the hood up, fearing it would spook the birds. With as little movement as possible, she slipped the camera under her coat, protecting it from the rain. She continued backing up, away from the nest. However, the lightening strike and loud clap of thunder caused her to jump.

"Shit," she whispered. "What the hell am I doing out here?"

"Jesus Christ! Will you get back here?" Carly spoke to the empty Jeep. She watched as Pat disappeared into the brush again, knowing she would reappear near the Jeep. She reached over and opened Pat's door, not caring if she startled the egrets. Pat was going to be drenched, that is, if the lightening didn't get her first. Another flash across the sky followed by a boom of thunder made her jump. Then Pat was there, sliding into the Jeep, dripping wet.

"Are you insane?" Carly demanded. "Do you have any idea how close that was?"

"Yes. I damn near shit on myself."

Then she flashed Carly a grin. Carly returned it reluctantly.

"I'm sorry. I never should have made you do that."

"Dr. Cambridge, I've never been one to pass up a shot. I'm all in one piece."

"You're soaking wet. I'm sure I'll never live it down if you end up with pneumonia."

"Thank goodness you're a doctor," Pat quipped as she started the Jeep and backed away. The egrets never moved.

Carly couldn't resist. She pulled out a tissue from her coat pocket and dabbed at the rain dripping down Pat's nose. Pat brushed her hand away.

"Jesus, I'm going to run into a goddamn tree," she said. She grabbed the tissue from Carly's hand and wiped at the windshield, now fogged. They managed to make it back without hitting anything and they both ran for the porch.

Pat stood dripping by the door as Carly went to find towels.

"Leave your coat down there," Carly called from the top of the stairs.

"I guess that means I'm to come up," Pat murmured. She tossed her raincoat on the floor and pulled off her muddy boots. Even her socks were wet.

"You look like a drowned rat," Carly observed as Pat leaned against the bathroom door. She walked over and pulled Pat's cap off her head, then lifted up her hair.

"You are so wet," she said, her hand squeezing water from Pat's hair.

The statement, made so innocently, nonetheless caused Pat's mouth to lift in a grin. She couldn't resist.

"You just seem to do that to me, Dr. Cambridge."

Carly refused to let Pat see the blush that covered her face. Instead, she covered Pat's head with the towel and escaped into the kitchen, but not before she heard the rather loud chuckle coming from beneath the towel.

"Damn the woman," she murmured.

But when Pat reappeared, she still looked like a drowned rat. It was Carly's turn to laugh.

"Have you looked in the mirror?"

"No. In my mind, I still look perfectly groomed."

"Trust me, those words do not fit this . . . look," Carly said with yet another smile.

"I believe you. Now, if you're done having your fun with me, can we turn on the heat? I'm actually freezing to death."

Carly noticed the flushed appearance and saw that Pat was actually shivering. She frowned. The woman would be lucky if she didn't come down with the flu."

"You need to get out of those clothes." As soon as the words left Carly's mouth, she saw the grin Pat flashed her.

"If you insist. I thought you would never ask."

Carly decided to ignore the comment. It was safer that way.

"I have nothing that will fit you, though. And unfortunately, the washer and dryer won't be installed until the utility room is finished downstairs."

"How about those cute baggy sweats you had on the other day?" Pat asked.

Cute? They were her oldest pair.

"And a pair of socks," Pat added.

Carly looked down at Pat's feet. "You wear what? Size twelve?"

"Nine."

Carly pointed at her own feet. "Seven."

"That'll do."

Carly shrugged. She hadn't washed the sweats, but she doubted Pat would care. They were at least dry. She found a thick pair of socks, knowing they would still be small.

Pat disappeared into the bathroom. Carly poured them each a glass of wine, then found two cans of soup and heated that. When Pat returned, she couldn't help but laugh. The sweats reached just below her calf and the socks were stretched tight over her feet.

"May I borrow your camera?" Carly asked.

"No, you may not. And you're not to tell anyone about this."

"You actually look adorable," she said before she could stop herself.

Pat's reply died on her lips. Her blue eyes locked on green and she saw embarrassment, followed by confusion in the other woman's eyes.

"Well, I thought they looked adorable on you, too," Pat said quietly.

Carly didn't try to hide the blush this time. She simply handed Pat a glass of wine and went to stir the soup.

"I thought a bowl of hot soup might warm you up some."

"That'll be great."

"Do you think any of the shots will turn out?" Carly asked, trying to find a safe subject to talk about. She cursed her traitorous body. She wanted to ignore the attraction she felt for this woman but inappropriate thoughts seemed to form words and leave her mouth without her even being conscious of it. Adorable? What are you thinking?

"Maybe. The light was better than I thought. But I never got the young. The mother was completely on the nest."

"Well, I'm sorry I made you do that. Especially if we don't end up using them."

"Maybe later, when they're older, we can take more. You can always use them in your next brochure," Pat suggested.

They sat across from each other at the small table, eating the soup silently. Carly refilled their glasses for the third time. She felt she was giving Pat the wrong signals. She had been practically flirting with her. Well, as much as Carly knew how to flirt. Actually, she wasn't flirting. She was just reacting. But she had to stop things right now. When Pat got up to put her empty bowl in the sink, Carly took a swallow of wine before speaking.

"I think we should talk," she said.

"Talk?"

"I just wanted you to know that I'm not . . . well, I'm not interested in you," she said.

Pat leaned against the counter and crossed her arms, waiting for Carly to continue.

"I think we can be friends," she said. "Despite the outcome of our first couple of meetings," she added with a small smile. "But, I'm not interested in anything else. Just in case you were."

"In case I was interested in you?"

"Yes. I just wanted to make sure you were clear about that. I'm not . . . I'm not attracted to you. At all," she added. "So, in case you were thinking that I was . . .."

"Well, it's not really up to you, is it?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I am attracted to you. You don't really have a say in that."

"Of course I do! There will never be anything between us. Trust me."

"Okay, I trust you," Pat said. But she walked purposefully to Carly and bent down, kissing her full on the mouth before the other woman knew what was happening. "I've got to go. Thanks for the dry clothes. And the soup."

Carly sat there, stunned. Absolutely stunned. She heard Pat leave the bathroom, presumably with her wet jeans, heard her walk quietly down the stairs, heard the front door open and close, heard the Jeep start up and leave.

Only then did she dare raise her fingers to her mouth and touch it where Pat's lips had rested. The kiss had been too brief, too hard to be passionate. It was a kiss of possession, of ownership.

"Shit. I can't believe she did that."

But yes, of course she could believe it. She had no doubt Pat Ryan would go after whatever, whomever she wanted.

"I'm in big trouble," she murmured.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

It took Pat forever to get warm. Even a hot shower did little to chase the chill. She poured a small glass of brandy and huddled in her own sweats, covered with a blanket.

"You actually kissed her. What in the hell were you thinking?"

She was actually thinking that Carly Cambridge was the first woman she'd been attracted to on more than a sexual level. There was certainly that, she noted with a smile. But, there was an energy between them. Carly excited her. She doubted she would ever be bored in her company. And that had always been the problem. When she was younger, she'd try to have relationships. But beyond the sex, there was nothing there. And she soon lost patience. She grew restless. She needed their conversations to be as passionate as their nighttime activities. And they never were.

Pat knew she attracted her fair share of women just on her looks alone. And years ago, when she had the energy, she took advantage of that. But she always craved more. She wanted what Angel and Lannie had. A home. Someone to share her life with. Someone she could relate to on all levels.

And for the first time, she'd met someone who actually stirred her soul. And she was scared. What if Carly had been telling the truth? What if she wasn't attracted to her?

"That would hardly be fair," she said out loud.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Carly was dreading the trip to Corpus. She'd made up excuses in her mind to call Pat and cancel. But, she had to meet the printers. And Pat had the prints.

Now, as she sat on the ferry and crossed Aransas Bay, nervousness set in. She wanted to be angry with Pat. In fact, when she'd gotten up that morning, she was angry. But as the hours passed, so did her anger. It wasn't fair to blame Pat. She knew nothing of her past. She didn't know that Carly had vowed to never give herself to another soul ever again.

Oh, but that kiss. The more she thought about it, the longer it lasted. And it was never long enough.

"Shit."

She drove off the ferry, grabbing her scribbled directions. She found the streets with ease, finally pulling up behind Pat's Jeep. Before she could get out, Pat bounded down the stairs. Shorts today. Great. Just what I need. Those long legs tempting me. Carly noted that Pat had her sweatpants in her hands, neatly folded.

"Hi," Pat greeted. She slammed the door and Carly backed out without saying a word. "Beautiful day, isn't it? I never thought we'd see the sun again."

Carly kept her mouth closed. She could at least pretend to be angry.

"Flu symptoms haven't set in, in case you were worried," Pat offered.

Carly only nodded.

"Oh, please. You can't possibly still be mad about last night."

"I most certainly can."

"That was hours ago. You have to actually work at being mad for that long."

Carly suppressed a smile. Just barely.

"It wasn't really a kiss, you know," Pat continued. "When I really kiss you, you'll know."

"That was your one and only chance."

"Now you don't really believe that, do you?"

Carly paused at the light. "Which way?"

"Next light. Go left."

They were driving the length of the island, the gulf on one side, the bay on the other. In the distance, they could see the high-rises of Corpus Christi.

"Are you going to tell me?" Pat asked.

"Tell you what?"

"Tell me what happened to you."

"What are you talking about?"

"Someone's hurt you. Tell me about it."

"You have got some balls, you know that."

Pat laughed and glanced down between her legs. "No, I don't. Trust me. No balls. Now tell me."

"I will not. It's . . . painful."

"That's why you need to tell me."

"Are you always like this?"

"Yes."

Carly gripped the steering wheel hard. Shit. Maybe she should tell Pat. Maybe then Pat would know why Carly was off-limits.

"I met her in college. I was in my last year and we had a biology class together. She had always dreamed of being a veterinarian, however biology and chemistry were not her strong points. They were mine. I ended up tutoring her."

"And ended up in bed?"

Carly glanced at Pat quickly, then back at the road. "If it were only that simple," she said. "She was my first. She was . . . beautiful, really. Athletic. A people magnet. I fell head over heels. We spent every spare minute together. Finally bought a house. I was paying for school out of a trust my grandfather had given me. Carol didn't have time to work, she struggled with her classes as it were. So, I pretty much took care of all the expenses. About a year and a half later, I got a job in Austin. I moved into this tiny apartment and drove back on weekends. We decided that we should share the driving, so I bought her a new car, since she would be making the trip to Austin every other weekend.

That worked out fine for awhile, but then her driving was cutting into her studying, so I ended up making the trip most often. But still, it was working out. I helped her with her classes when I could, I cooked on the weekends so she would have as little to do as possible. She was barely hanging on as it was. But she made it. When she graduated, I was so proud of her. I took off work on that Friday and drove up early. I was going to surprise her. I found a Uhaul truck in the driveway and most of my furniture inside it. I found her in the kitchen. She was laughing with this other woman when I walked in. She then introduced me to her girlfriend."

Pat was quiet. She didn't have any witty comment to make to ease the tension in the Jeep.

"I was . . . floored. I mean, I had absolutely no idea. They had been seeing each other for almost two years. She had a job waiting in Dallas. She was packing to move."

"So, the furniture, it was hers?"

"No. I paid for it all. Like I said, she didn't work. I was just too stunned to argue. I think I was actually in a state of shock. The worst part was how she laughed at me. She said, 'Did you really think that someone like me could be with someone like you?'" Carly glanced again at Pat. "The only thing I took that to mean was that she was this beautiful woman and I was a homely looking bookworm."

"Bookworm, maybe. But homely? No, you'd have to wear dark-rimmed glasses for that look," Pat teased. In fact, she found Carly to be beautiful. Her short blonde hair, although always unruly, framed a smooth, clear face. And those sea-green eyes, Pat loved looking into them.

"She said, 'Face it, Carly, I needed you to get through college. I'm sorry you thought there was more to it.'"

"Talk about balls," Pat said.

"So, Carol left that day with her girlfriend driving the Uhaul and she waved at me through the window of the car that I bought for her," Carly said. "And I wanted to die." This time, when she looked at Pat, compassionate blue eyes stared back at her. "I felt lifeless. I wanted to make that a reality. It seemed the only way to make the hurt go away."

Pat reached over and took her hand, folding it warmly between her two larger ones.

"I had sleeping pills. And a bottle of whiskey."

Pat trembled at the words, spoken so softly, but clearly.

"But my mother called. She was checking up on me. She told me what a wonderful daughter I was and how proud she was. They never knew about Carol until that night. I stayed on the phone several hours, pouring it all out. My mother was wonderful. I took a leave from work and spent a week in Corpus with them. I got past the hardest part while in the company of my family. Even my brothers were so supportive."

"I'm glad your mother called you that night. What would this day be if you weren't here?"

Carly smiled and squeezed Pat's hand before reclaiming her own.

"Thank you. So, there's my horrid little story. The devastation of a broken heart. And why I will never, ever do that again."

"You said she was your first?"

"Yes."

"So, all these years, there's been no one?"

"No."

"But, I mean, surely you get lonely. Surely your body needs attention occasionally," Pat said.

"Yes. There have been a couple of occasions where I've gotten smashed and went home with strangers. It's not something I'm proud of. I didn't even know their names."

"And Carol? I assume you never saw her again?"

"No."

Pat nodded. "Thank you for telling me. But luckily for you, I'm not anything like Carol. I already have a car."

"Pat . . .." Carly warned.

"But we do have one thing in common," she said. "I suck at chemistry and biology, too."

At this, Carly laughed.

"Good. A smile. Because you're absolutely gorgeous when you smile." When Carly would have protested, Pat spoke again. "I brought the film from yesterday. We can drop it off before we go to the printers and pick it up on the way back. That way, if there are any good shots, we can always add it to the brochure later," she suggested.

So, just like that, the subject of Carol was closed. As it should be, Carly thought.

"Okay. Tell me where to go."

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

"I like the changes," Pat said. She was scanning the brochure as they made their way back to Port Aransas. "It's much more positive."

"Yes. Thank you for so strongly suggesting I rewrite it. And I liked the pictures you picked out. I think the brochure will turn out great."

"Sorry about yesterday, though."

They'd picked up the photos after they met with the printers and even Randy couldn't brighten them enough.

"We'll try later," Carly said. "When it's not pouring down rain."

"Not to mention lightening."

"You really scared me, you know. That one was so close."

"Yes, I know. I felt the electricity around me."

"Promise me you won't take a chance like that again," Carly said. For some reason, it was important to her that Pat remain safe.

"I promise. And I think you need to pay up on that dinner you owe me. I know a cute little place on the island."

Carly hesitated. It wasn't like she needed to get back to the ranch. And after their little adventure yesterday, she at least owed Pat dinner.

"Okay. Deal," she said.

Pat directed her to The Shrimp Shack and as they stood beside the Jeep, she saw Carly raise her eyebrows. The music was turned up loud and the outdoor patio was crowded with an assortment of people.

"Are you sure it's safe?" Carly asked.

"Perfectly. These are all locals. I'm not sure tourists would dare to venture inside."

"I can't say that I blame them."

Pat led her inside, finding Angel behind the bar. She motioned to a booth and raised two fingers. Angel nodded and reached for two mugs.

"They have the best seafood platter on the island. But if you like Po'boys, don't pass that up. Good gumbo, too."

"I take it you come here a lot?"

"She practically lives here," Angel supplied. "I don't think she knows how to cook." She placed two mugs of draft beer on the table, then stuck out her hand. "I'm Angel."

"Carly Cambridge."

Angel raised her eyebrows. "Dr. Carly Cambridge?"

Pat actually blushed. She hoped Angel wouldn't repeat the words Pat had used to describe Carly that first day.

Carly noticed Pat's blush and smiled. She leaned her elbows on the table and waited until Pat looked at her.

"Something you want to share?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Very."

Angel laughed. "I think you've met your match with this one, Pat. Yell at me when you're ready to order."

She left them alone and Pat sipped from her beer, stalling for time. But Carly didn't give her time.

"Spill it."

"It's no big deal," Pat said. "The first day I met you, I came here for lunch. I may have repeated some of our conversation to her. That's all."

"And you told her what?"

"I don't really remember the words. I may have used 'obnoxious' and 'environmental wacko' in the same sentence."

Carly laughed. "That's okay. I think I used 'obnoxious', too. Along with 'insufferable' and 'jerk' to describe you."

"Now I'm offended. Jerk?"

"Actually, I think that was the first word I used."

They grinned at each other, then both drank from their beer. Carly couldn't remember another time in her life when she enjoyed someone's company as much as Pat's. She irritated her sometimes, sure. But she always made her laugh.

"So, what are you having?" Pat asked.

"No menus?"

"No. I mean, they have them. I think. Surely. I've just never seen one."

"Well, then I'll take your advice and get the seafood platter."

"Excellent. You won't be able to eat it all," Pat warned. She caught Angel's attention and raised two fingers.

"Platter?" Angel called. "Or beer?"

"Both."

"So, you don't cook?"

"Not really, no."

"I don't, either. Of course, living at the ranch, I'm going to have to start. It's not like I can go down the road for take-out."

"You should get in better with Aunt Rachel. Alice is a great cook."

"Alice?"

"Cook. Maid. Companion. She's been with Aunt Rachel for as long as I can remember."

"Rumor has it that Rachel's been married eight times."

"No rumor," Pat said. "She says she falls in love easily."

"And out of love, apparently," Carly said.

"Nope. They're all dead."

"Dead? Natural causes?"

"Well, there was the boating accident. And the hit and run. And one was murdered at his desk. The suspected suicide." Her lips twitched only slightly. "One just disappeared, presumed dead."

"Oh my God. You're joking, right?"

Pat grinned. "Yes. I'm joking. Although, I do think a couple of them have passed away."

"Still, eight," Carly said. She couldn't imagine.

"Most people think she married for money. Her second husband was loaded. But she caught him in a compromising position and pretty much cleaned up. I think she's added to her wealth considerably since then, but really, she's had more money than any of her husbands."

"You have never mentioned parents or siblings. Are you not close? And forgive me if I'm prying."

"It's okay," Pat said. "I have parents. They've just disowned me. My very proper Catholic family could not tolerate my being gay."

"How does someone disown a daughter? Do they just not allow you around the family or what?"

Pat sighed. She hadn't told anyone this story in so long. She hardly remembered the details anymore. At least, that's what she told herself.

"When I accepted that I was gay, I was twenty. I was on yet another date that my father had arranged with one of his friend's sons. I had always been honest with my parents about other things in my life, I didn't think that this should be any different. But having a gay child just didn't fit in with their corporate image, much less the church. They hauled me off to speak with our family priest. They insisted that I could find guidance there. That I could be absolved of this horrible sin. It wasn't pretty," Pat said, remembering that terrible day. "I caused quite a scene. Rule number one: Never embarrass your parents at church. Their next option was locking me away until I could be healed. They already had an appointment at some hospital in Houston. That's when Aunt Rachel sent for me. And I ran to her."

"And they let you go."

"Oh, yes. I'm sure they were glad to be rid of me. Donald Ryan needed an heir and I wasn't likely to give him one. My sister was still in high school at the time. I suppose they focused on her after I left."

Carly's eyes widened. "Donald Ryan? CEO of Gasworks?"

Pat laughed. "Let me guess. Number one on your pollution hit list?"

"Number one on all my lists. He's your father?"

"The same."

"So you weren't exactly brought up to love and respect nature," Carly guessed.

"No, it was a resource only."

"So? Wildlife photography? Probably rocked his boat, huh?"

"No doubt. He still calls Aunt Rachel occasionally. I'm sure she gets her digs in where she can."

"Is she a sister of your father or mother."

"Father."

Angel brought over two heaping platters of fried seafood, interrupting their conversation. Pat was thankful. She hated thinking about that time in her life, much less talking about it.

"Are we still on for dinner Saturday night?" Angel asked.

"Of course. What can I bring?"

"Why don't you bring Carly?"

Carly looked from Angel to Pat. Dinner?

"We're having steaks Saturday night. Lannie bought a new grill she's been dying to try out. Why don't you come along with Pat?" Angel invited.

"Oh, I don't know," Carly said, looking to Pat. "She may have someone else in mind."

Pat and Angel looked at each other and laughed.

"No. Pat doesn't have anyone else in mind. Come along. We'd love to have you."

Again Carly looked at Pat and raised her eyebrows.

"I would love for you to come," Pat said. Then she winked and Carly grinned.

"Okay. I accept."

When Angel left, Carly looked at her plate, her eyes wide.

"You weren't joking."

"Always good for lunch the next day."

Conversation ceased as they both shoved plump fried shrimp into their mouths. They both moaned at the same time.

"Excellent," Carly murmured. Then she snagged a fried oyster and rolled her eyes. She had just found a new favorite place to eat.

Pat watched as Carly picked up a piece of fish with her fingers and bit into it. The pleasure on her face caused Pat to grin. Beautiful.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Pat went out to the ranch on Friday morning, but found only Elsa and Martin.

"Carly's in town meeting with some bird woman. A Mrs. Davenport. Ever heard of her?"

Pat laughed and Elsa stared at her.

"Yes. And when Carly gets back, I'm sure she'll tell you all about her."

"I know her," Martin said. "A little eccentric."

"A little? Have you seen her in one of her outfits?" Pat asked.

"Oh, she's one of those," Elsa said. "Well, Carly wants to round up some local birders. She wants to get them familiar with the ranch so during the fall migration, we'll have enough bodies on hand for a bird count."

"Uh-huh," Pat muttered. God, she hated birders.

"What?"

"Nothing. I'm going to walk the length of the bay. See what's out and about this morning. I'll see you two later."

Pat found the usual assortment of pelicans and terns flying along the bay fishing. There was a sand bar not far from the property line and Pat found what she thought was an American Oystercatcher. She got several good shots as the bird totally ignored her. On the other side of the sand bar, where a protected cove had formed, she found two herons. Or where they egrets? Shit. She needed to bring her damn field guide out with her.

When she drove her Jeep back to the ranch house, there was still no sign of Carly. She was disappointed. They had not spoken since dinner on Wednesday night. She hoped Carly still planned to join her tomorrow. It was then she realized she didn't have a phone number for Carly.

She found Elsa and Martin huddled over the blueprints, talking to one of the workers.

"I'm heading out," she said.

"Okay. I'm sure Carly will be sorry she missed you," Elsa said.

"Listen, does she have a number here? Or do you have her cell number?"

"Well, I know the phone has been installed because her computer and fax are working but I don't have a clue as to the number. I just use her cell. Let me just get you one of her cards."

Pat nodded then walked over to Martin.

"What's up?"

"Dr. Cambridge wanted to extend the kitchen and utility room down here and make a patio out back. Seems the calculations were a bit off and they want to take out the two oaks in the back."

"What? The two behind the house?" Pat asked loudly, taking a step backwards.

"Yes."

"No!"

"Excuse me?"

"You can't. They're huge. They're beautiful. They're probably a thousand years old. Do you know how slowly trees grow down here? How many storms and hurricanes they have to fight through to make it that big?"

"Yes, but she wants the rooms bigger and a patio."

"I'm sure if she knows that she'll lose the trees, she won't do it."

"Do what?" Elsa asked.

"Cut the trees," Martin said.

"Well, I have to agree with Pat. I think she would fire you and the entire crew if she came back here and the trees were gone."

Pat breathed a sigh of relief, not pausing to wonder why she had gotten so worked up over a couple of trees. Well, they were beautiful. But still, it wasn't like she was going to chain herself to them like some nutcase.

"Okay. We better wait," he told the other man. "It's just, you know, she wanted a patio," Martin said to Pat.

"Tell her to sit on the front porch," Pat said. She took the card from Elsa. "Thanks."

She called Carly's cell on her way back to Port Aransas and the island. She got voicemail. But even then, she smiled upon hearing Carly's voice.

"God, you've got it bad," she whispered. Then, after the beep, "Carly, it's Pat. Just wanted to make sure you remembered dinner tomorrow night. You can call for directions and I'll meet you there or you can come by the house. We should probably be there by seven. Ah, hope you enjoyed your visit with Mrs. Davenport, can't wait to hear about it." She paused only a second before continuing. "By the way, I love the two trees behind the house. I hope they're still there tomorrow."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

"Cut the goddamn trees? Are you out of your mind?"

Elsa walked between Carly and Martin and grabbed both of Carly's arms.

"Chica, the trees are fine. Pat was here. She threw some sort of fit and scared poor Martin. He decided to wait until you got back so you could decide. So, calm down."

Carly looked from Elsa to Martin.

"Pat was here? She threw a fit? Over trees?"

"Yes, Dr. Cambridge," Martin said, still surprised by her anger. "She said they were beautiful, maybe a thousand years old. But you wanted the rooms extended. You said you wanted a patio."

"Not quite," she murmured.

"What?"

"A thousand years old. Maybe five hundred."

"She said we should tell you to sit on the front porch instead," Elsa said.

Carly laughed and both Elsa and Martin stared at her. God, the woman wasn't making it easy, was she? If Pat were here now, Carly might very well hug her.

"So, Martin, we're clear? The trees stay. If we can enlarge the rooms a little, that's fine. My thinking was, eventually with a full staff, we'll need a good-sized kitchen. And the utility room, well that was just for my own needs. We don't have to have a patio right off the house. We can build a small deck under the trees later. I just wanted a place where we could put a table and chairs and have someplace to sit outside. We can figure all that out later."

"Okay."

"And Martin? Don't call me Dr. Cambridge."

"Yes ma'am."

Carly glanced at Elsa. "Help him, will you?"

"Don't worry, chica. I'll have him as disrespectful as I am in no time."

Carly climbed the stairs to her apartment, her hand clutched around her cell phone. Pat's message had made little sense to her. But then, she wasn't really surprised. Why in the world would Pat be talking about the trees? And that she loved them? But she was very thankful Pat had been here. She didn't know what she would have done if she'd come back and they'd been gone.

She went to her desk and pulled out Pat's card. She tried her house first but got no answer. She hung up instead of leaving a message. Pat answered her cell on the second ring.

"It's Carly."

"Hey."

"I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you now have a reputation as a tree hugger."

"Oh, please. With my reputation, I doubt anyone would believe you."

"You scared Martin. Or so Elsa said."

"I had a brief thought of chaining myself to one of the trees, then I came to my senses," Pat said.

Carly laughed. "And you call me an environmental wacko."

"But seriously, the trees are safe, right?"

"No. We had to cut them this afternoon. I mean, I wanted a patio. I wanted a utility room I could actually walk in."

She heard only silence on the phone. But only for a few seconds.

"You're fucking me, right? Because I'll never speak to you again if you cut the goddamn trees down."

"Yep. Definitely an environmental wacko."

"Carly?"

"Your trees are fine, Pat. I wouldn't dream of cutting them down."

"Okay. Good. I'll be able to sleep tonight then. Now, dinner?"

"Yes. But I should meet you there. I may not want to stay as long as you do."

"Okay. Just come to my place first. You can follow me over there."

"Deal." Carly sat down on her sofa, looking out over the bay. "What are you doing, anyway? I hear traffic."

"I'm just off the bridge over Copano Bay. There was a heron or egret or something over here."

"Pat, you really need to get your herons and egrets straight. They look nothing alike."

"They look exactly alike. They're just different colors."

"Well, there you go. That's a start. By the way, Mrs. Davenport says you trespassed onto her property the other week. She's very upset with you."

Pat laughed. "The woman hates me."

"I think she may have a crush on you."

Silence again.

"I'm hanging up now. You've obviously lost your mind."

It was Carly's turn to laugh. She wrapped her arms around herself as she cradled the phone to her ear, a smile firmly in place.

"Okay. Go back to your herons or egrets. I'll see you tomorrow."

Carly laid the phone down beside her, still smiling. God, she didn't know why, but the woman made her laugh. Made her happy. She wished with all her heart that she didn't still have issues because of Carol. If she could just let herself go, let herself forget that terrible time, let Pat into her life, it would be so much easier. She might be willing to give it a chance.

But she couldn't forget. She had nearly lost her life.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

By six-thirty, Pat was pacing back and forth in her living room. The day had been endless. She had started it with her usual run, then went to the taco stand on the main drag for breakfast. And, acting like a tourist, she stopped at the city's birding pond, just in case something interesting was there. She knew she should listen to the hotline, especially during migration, but she couldn't stand to hear Mrs. Davenport's voice for that long. Maybe they had an online version.

She was surprised to see the RV campground filling up. It was only mid-May and The Winter Texans had gone back north, but surely, it was too early for the summer crowd.

The birding center was well kept and Pat usually enjoyed her visits there. Native plants and flowers lined the sidewalk and disappeared where the reeds and cattails took over. A wooden walkway parted the reeds and the pond appeared. Pat stopped in her tracks. A hundred Mrs. Davenports were on the platforms and walkways, all with scopes and binoculars.

"Jesus Christ," she muttered. At first, she assumed some news had hit the hotline, but they all appeared to be looking at different things. So, Pat stayed where she was, her binoculars scanning the pond but finding only a few duck stragglers that hadn't left yet. During the winter, thousands of ducks and shorebirds fed here and she could only identify a handful of them. She was too embarrassed to whip out her field guide in front of the birders. She could imagine them pointing at her and whispering. Maybe she could drag Carly out here in the winter and she could be her living field guide. That thought brought a smile.

She spotted one of the alligators that lived in the pond. She didn't want to think about what they ate. She'd never seen them do anything but lay in the shallows, but surely, they ate. Probably, those cute little ducks.

She had spent her afternoon doing laundry and cleaning her cluttered house. Then, on impulse, she pulled her Jeep into the sun and washed it. For this, she had donned her bikini top and enjoyed an hour in the sun.

But now, she was getting restless. She should have asked Carly to come early and they could have visited some before going to dinner. She loved Angel and Lannie's company, but she would much rather spend time alone with Carly.

The knock on the door came only a few minutes later. Pat tried to wipe the huge smile from her face before opening it but she didn't succeed.

"Hi," she greeted Carly. Shorts. Good. Her eyes moved up Carly's legs, finally meeting the amused green eyes looking back at her. "Come on in."

Pat was wearing shorts, too. Long, baggy shorts that nearly reached her knees. Carly couldn't resist inspecting Pat, much as Pat had done her.

"Want me to turn around?" Pat teased. "Give you a back view?"

"No, thanks. I've seen you from behind."

Carly walked past Pat and stood in front of the large windows, looking out.

"You've got a great view. I imagine you love sitting on the deck."

"Yes. But I can't take credit for it. Aunt Rachel bought it for me about seven years ago. She wanted to buy that monster on the corner, but I told her I wouldn't have use for four bedrooms."

Carly nodded. "This suits you. Warm, casual. Nothing fancy."

"I think I should be offended."

"I didn't mean it to be offensive. You drive a Jeep. You dress for comfort. There's nothing pretentious about you. It was a compliment."

Pat shrugged. "Okay. I can be not fancy with the best of them." Then Pat casually took Carly's hand and pulled her to the door. "Come on. They'll be waiting."

Carly followed Pat through town, ending up on the bay side of the island. The house Pat stopped in front of was small, with close neighbors. But the yard was impeccably neat. Two palm trees, still small, were surrounded with blooming hibiscus. Other flowers crammed the beds on both sides of the porch. The porch itself was littered with pot plants and two very beautiful hanging baskets of bougainvillea.

"I somehow doubt Angel's the one with the green thumb," Carly said.

Pat laughed. "Lannie doesn't allow Angel anywhere near her plants. Come on. You'll like them."

Pat knocked only once then opened the door when a voice called to them. Unlike Pat's house, this one was crowded with furniture and knick-knacks. On one wall was a large framed print and Carly suspected it was one of Pat's.

"Hey girls. Come on in," Angel called from the kitchen. "Carly, I'm glad you came. This is Lannie."

Carly smiled and took the hand of the very tall woman standing before her. Her hair was so blonde, it was nearly white. But friendly blue eyes smiled back at her.

"Nice to meet you," Carly said. "Thank you for inviting me."

Lannie laughed. "It's just nice not to have to try to fix Pat up with someone. She must be very difficult. I can't get any woman to go out with her more than once."

"Thanks a lot, Lannie. I already told her I have no bad qualities. Now what's she going to think?"

"She's going to think you've been lying," Carly said. "Why won't anyone go out with you more than once?"

"She's difficult," Angel said. "Stubborn."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"Are you all quite through?"

Carly laughed, noticing the slight blush on Pat's tanned face. God, she was beautiful. Then blue eyes glanced up and captured hers and Carly couldn't look away. Pat's eyes darkened and Carly feared Pat could read her mind.

"Beer? Wine? A drink? Plain old Coke?" Lannie offered, ending her teasing for the moment.

"I'll have a beer," Pat said. "Carly?"

"That's fine."

"Come on out to the deck," Angel said. "I'm about to put the steaks on. Later, if you want, we thought we'd start up a card game."

"That's sounds fun," Carly said. "Spades? Hearts?"

"Spades. Pat refuses to play Hearts."

Pat glared at Angel, but Angel only grinned back at her.

"Doesn't work on me, remember," she told Pat.

Carly couldn't resist. "Why don't you like Hearts?"

"I like it just fine. It doesn't like me."

"I don't think Pat's attention span can handle it," Lannie said.

"And I call you two friends," Pat said. "I simply don't like something that requires that much . . . concentration."

Carly laughed, enjoying Pat's discomfort. She never imagined this unflappable woman would get flustered by the teasing of her friends.

"Let me guess. You hate to lose," Carly said.

"Lose? Please. I get lots of practice. I think it's just the women they insist on pairing me with. Underneath it all, I'm sure I'm a very good card player. They're the ones with the problem."

"I'm a great card player," Carly told her. "So if we lose . . .."

"Well, shit, Carly, is there anything you can't do?"

Carly grinned. "I can't take pictures. That's what I have you for."

Lannie and Angel laughed and Lannie stood behind Pat with hands on her shoulders.

"Pat, I think you have your hands full with this one."

It was Pat's turn to laugh. "I wish I had my hands full."

Carly blushed. "I'll get you for that."

"Promise?"

"Oh, I promise, all right," Carly threatened. "A dunking in the bay, perhaps."

But the look in Pat's blue eyes sent chills over her body. She felt as if they were positively caressing her. She accepted a second beer from Lannie without pulling her eyes away from Pat's. She couldn't. They held her.

All Pat wanted to do at that moment was close the distance between them and kiss Carly senseless. If she didn't think that Carly would kill her, she would do just that. But Angel got up to turn the steaks and Carly finally looked away from her.

They moved inside when the steaks were done. Lannie pulled four potatoes from the oven and Angel motioned to the bar.

"We'll eat here. We're really informal," Angel told Carly. "I hope you don't mind."

"This is perfect," Carly said. "Can we help with anything?"

"Yes. Pat, show her where the plates are."

Pat and Carly set out plates and napkins and they all set down to a simple meal of steak, baked potatoes and green beans. Lannie opened a bottle of wine and filled four glasses, then lifted hers in a toast.

"To good friends. And new ones," she said, glancing at Carly.

"Thank you."

The card game started before they had even cleaned up from dinner. Angel said they would get it later, despite Carly's protests.

"I always feel like we should smoke cigars or something," Pat said as she shuffled the cards. She looked across the table at Carly and winked. "I'll apologize now for the many stupid plays I'll make."

Carly leaned her elbows on the table and grinned. "Do you not grasp the concept of Spades?"

"Oh, I grasp it. But I'll want to look at you instead of the cards and I'll end up just tossing one out and inevitably, it'll be the wrong one."

"I thought it was because you couldn't concentrate?"

"Well, with you sitting there, I won't be able to concentrate."

"You are so full of shit, you know that."

"I'm hurt. It's the truth."

"Is that the same line you use with everyone?"

Angel saved Pat having to answer. "No, she's usually bored to death and never pays attention."

"Ah, well then, I'm flattered," Carly said.

"You should be," Pat told her.

Their teasing continued throughout the game and they lost badly. Angel and Lannie were fantastic players and it was obvious they knew each other's moves. But Carly couldn't remember the last time she'd had so much fun.

"You weren't lying," she told Pat. "You're awful."

"Thanks. You're not so good yourself."

But their eyes met across the table and both softened. Carly had the strangest impulse to reach across the table and kiss Pat. She managed to control her impulse. Just barely.

"I should be going," she said. "I've had a wonderful time. Thank you both for including me."

"We enjoyed you being here. Come back any time," Lannie offered.

"Let me help with the dishes?"

"Of course not. That's what Pat is here for."

"Yes. It's my job," Pat said. "Let me walk you out."

The evening was warm, the ever-present breeze tossing the fragrance of the flowers around them and Carly felt Pat's presence beside her. She was frightened. Part of her wanted Pat to take her in her arms and kiss her like no one before had ever done. But the sane part, the part that knew she couldn't handle that, prayed Pat would do no such thing.

"I'm glad you came tonight," Pat said. "I had a great time with you."

"Me, too. It was fun."

The streetlights cast a soft glow around them and Carly finally gave in and met Pat's eyes. She wished she hadn't. Her blue eyes were warm, compassionate, just hinting at the desire that simmered beneath the surface.

Pat stepped closer, leaving little room between them. Carly's hands came up and pressed against Pat's shoulders, stopping her forward progress.

"Oh, God, Pat . . . please don't," she whispered.

"Sorry. But you know I can't help it, Carly."

Carly decided it was the way Pat said her name that melted her completely. Her hands relaxed as she allowed Pat closer.

Pat felt Carly's lips yield under her own, felt as they opened to her. Carly's lips were soft, warm, responsive. The hands at her shoulders stopped pushing and relaxed, fingers digging into flesh instead. Pat wanted to grasp Carly's hips and hold her close. She wanted to feel Carly's tongue against her own. But she didn't. She pulled away, leaving Carly as breathless as she was.

"Please drive carefully. I'll see you next week."

Carly watched her walk away but she still stood there, stunned. No woman should be able to do this to her with just a kiss. Her body was on fire. It had taken all of her strength not to wrap her arms around Pat and beg her to touch her.

"You are in such big trouble," she told herself.

Pat closed the door and leaned against it, trying to collect herself.

"What's wrong?" Angel asked.

"Nothing."

"Why haven't you told us about her?" Lannie asked. "She's great. How long have you been seeing each other?"

"We're not seeing each other," Pat said.

"You mean you're not . . . involved? Come on."

Pat walked to the bar and sat down. "I think I could be in trouble here," she said. "I think I'm in love with her."

"I thought you weren't seeing each other?"

"We're not. That's why I'm in trouble."

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Carly spent Sunday alone. Elsa had called and invited Carly over to watch a movie, but Carly made up an excuse of having to work on the brochure. She just wasn't up to seeing anyone. She needed to be alone. There was only one other time in her life that she felt this confused and it was on the day that Carol had packed up their things and moved.

She knew it wasn't fair to compare Pat and Carol. They were absolutely nothing alike. But that still didn't change the fact that she had sworn off involvement . . . with anyone . . . for the rest of her life. But, damn, Pat moved her. And her kiss . . . it simply wasn't fair. Carly had been afraid she would collapse right there in Pat's arms.

But despite what her body wanted, her mind balked. The stakes were too high.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Pat was actually nervous as she drove through the gates to the ranch on Monday morning. She had spent nearly all of Sunday recalling the kiss beside Carly's Jeep. In her mind, it had turned into much more than a kiss. She could practically feel Carly's breasts in her hands, could taste their softness.

"You can't possibly be in love with her. You've hardly kissed her." Then she met her eyes in the mirror and grinned. "And you really need to stop talking to yourself."

Pat resisted the pull of the ranch house and purposefully drove past Carly's Jeep and on to the bay. She was too late for the sunrise, but she would walk the shore again and check out the sandbar. And later, she wanted to check out the egrets. It was sunny. Maybe she could get some shots of the nest today.

She dutifully tucked her field guide into her camera bag. Not that she thought she would use it. It would take her forever to find the damn bird in the book. So much easier to describe it and let some birder tell her the name. But later, she was squatted on the sand, watching a group of shorebirds in the small cove behind the sandbar. Her field guide was lying open across her knees.

She lowered her binoculars for the third time and flipped through the pages.

"Why isn't it in the goddamn book?"

"They're Black-necked Stilts."

Pat jumped, spilling the field guide and binoculars onto the sand.

"Jesus Christ! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

Carly laughed and sat down next to Pat, picking up her book and finding the right page. She pointed at the picture.

"Black-necked Stilt."

Pat narrowed her eyes and gave Carly her best glare. It caused more laughter.

"Oh, please. Are you trying to scare me?"

"I hate birders. Have I told you that?"

"I'm sure you have."

"How did you know what page it was on?"

Carly smiled. Sometimes, Pat was so innocent, so bewildered, that Carly just wanted to wrap her in her arms and hold her. And kiss her, she added.

"Pat, all field guides are the same. Every one of them start with the loons. Then water birds and wadding birds, then ducks. Then the hawks. Then the shorebirds. And all down the line, ending with the sparrows."

"Well, that's just lovely to know. And I'm not even going to tell you what I'd decided it was."

"Please don't say a miniature heron," Carly teased.

"One of these sandpipers here," Pat said, pointing at a picture.

"They don't look anything like sandpipers."

Pat flashed a grin, letting Carly know that she was teasing. Carly grinned back.

"And why are you sneaking up on me?"

Yes, why Carly? Why did you watch her Jeep drive past the ranch house, feeling disappointed that she didn't stop? And why did you follow her? Why are you sitting here now, as if there is nothing better to do? Because you missed her, that's why.

"They're going to start on the marshes today," she said. "I thought you might want to get some shots. And, if you want, you can go with me to the back. I'm going to mark off the other marshes that I want to dig out next."

"You need help, don't you? You're going to make me work," Pat accused.

Carly pulled her knees to her chin and circled them with her arms, watching Pat. Carly decided she had never met a more attractive woman. And with her hair pulled through the back of her baseball cap, Pat looked adorable. She met her blue eyes without flinching. Yes, she was going to make her work. But not because she needed help. Only because she wanted to be in Pat's company.

"Yes," she finally said.

"Okay." Pat smiled and then reached out and playfully pulled one of Carly's fingers. "But you'll owe me. There'll be paybacks."

"I don't doubt that for a minute."

They spent the rest of the morning walking the would-be marshes, Pat dutifully holding the rope that Carly had staked down while Carly walked to the next marker, stretching it tight. Their conversation was pleasant, although impersonal. Neither of them mentioned last evening . . . or the kiss that they had shared.

Pat left shortly after lunch, which she'd shared with Carly and Elsa. She had prints to pick up and she was ready to put together her layout for the magazine. She left with just a wave, telling them she'd be back later in the week.

Carly felt oddly depressed once the photographer had left. She had purposefully kept their conversation light while they worked. She didn't want to bring up last night. She was surprised that Pat, too, seemed to avoid the subject. She should be thankful.

But she used the excuse of the fresh paint smell to escape upstairs to her apartment. She settled at her computer, intent on answering email and working on the mailing list. The printers had promised her the brochure would be ready in two weeks. She already had the mailing labels. It was just a matter of gathering help to put the thousands of labels on the brochures. She could have had the printers do it, but the cost was enormous. She decided, with their budget, to do it by hand. Elsa and Martin would help, of course. And perhaps Pat.

"Are you okay?" Elsa asked from the doorway.

"Yes. Why?" She pulled her eyes away from the email she had scaresly read.

"You've just been kinda quiet."

"I'm fine, Elsa."

"Pat?"

"What about her?"

Elsa smiled and walked into the room, perching on the edge of Carly's desk.

"You like her?"

"I like her fine," Carly said.

"You know what I mean," Elsa said.

"Elsa, don't," Carly warned. "Pat is becoming a friend. That's all."

"So, you're going to hide from this then?"

"Hide? What are you talking about?"

"I've seen the way she looks at you. And whether you like it or not, I've seen the way you look at her."

"I do not look at her," Carly insisted.

"Carly, you can't go the rest of your life denying that you could possibly feel something for another person. You had a bad experience. Do you think you're the only one?"

"A bad experience? I almost fucking killed myself," Carly yelled. "Over a woman. A woman who lied to me for four years. And I didn't know it. I will never be put in that situation again."

"So you let Carol ruin your life? That's your answer?"

"I . . . I can't do it, Elsa."

"Pat would be good for you. She is good for you. She makes you laugh. I haven't seen you laugh in years, Carly."

Carly stared at Elsa. Was it true? Did she not laugh? No, not really. She told herself she was happy with her life. And she was. She was happy enough, anyway. She was close to her family. She had a handful of very good friends. But Pat . . . yes, Pat made her laugh. Carly raised her eyes to Elsa, not trying to hide the tears that threatened.

"She scares me," she admitted quietly. "She's gotten inside me," Carly said. "And I don't know what to do."

"You have to let the past go, Carly. You know yourself, you've not been really living, you've just been existing. You deserve to be happy."

Carly reached out and took Elsa's hand and squeezed.

"Thank you. You're a good friend."

"Yes, I know. And so are you. And it makes me feel good to see you laugh. And she's the one that makes you laugh."

"Yes. She is."

"Okay. Well, I'm glad we could have this little chat. I hope you take some of it to heart."

"What if I promise that I'll try? Will that make you feel better?"

"It's a start, Carly."

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Pat stared at the picture. Then she put it aside and flipped through the others, pleased at the lighting. The curlews were fabulous. She picked up the picture again, her eyes softening. Damn. She put it face-down in her lap and sorted through the others again, pulling out the ones she wanted to use in the magazine. She had enough. They were good. And she was thankful it was over. Her mind wasn't on nesting shorebirds.

She flipped over the picture again. She couldn't help it.

"Beautiful," she whispered.

The eyes that looked back at her were questioning, just a slight crease in the brow. The mouth was soft, the beginnings of a smile transforming the lips. Blonde hair in permanent disarray as the continuous gulf breeze caught it.

She liked Carly's hair that way, she thought. Breezy, rumpled. And her fingers itched to move into the softness, straightening the windblown locks around her eyes.

For the first time in her life, Pat was scared.

CHAPTER THIRTY

The rest of the week followed the same pattern as Monday. Pat arrived early each morning and drove to the bay. Then Carly watched as Pat drove to the marshes where the digging had begun, watched as she circled with camera in hand. Then she would disappear into the woods, finally stopping at the ranch house before leaving. It was as if Pat were avoiding her. And Carly couldn't even begin to wonder why.

She moved away from the window as Pat approached, pretending interest in the printer that Elsa was setting up.

"If you're going to act like you're helping, at least pick up a cable or something," Elsa said.

Carly stared at her, trying to think of something to say, but she hastily reached for one of the cords when the door opened.

"Hey ladies," Pat greeted.

Carly looked up, twisting the cord in her hand. Her movement stopped however when her eyes roamed over Pat's body. Her tank top was short, leaving her tanned belly exposed and Carly swallowed with difficulty. Her strong shoulders and arms were bare and Carly's greedy eyes took it all in. Jesus, the woman was dangerous.

"Hi Pat. Done already?" Elsa asked.

"Well, actually, I was going to take a look at the egret nest. I thought maybe Carly would want to come," she said.

Carly met her eyes for nearly the first time since Monday. She couldn't look away.

"I would love to," she said.

"But you look busy," Pat said. "Just waiting to plug into something, huh?"

It was only then that Carly noticed that she held the power cord in her hands. Elsa laughed and took it from her.

"I think I can manage," Elsa said. "You run along."

Pat's Jeep was topless again and Carly sat quietly beside her as they drove past the barn. She had not been to see the egrets, fearing she would scare them off. But she trusted Pat. And she was anxious to see if the two young had survived.

"You haven't been around much," Carly finally said.

"What do you mean? I've been here every day."

"I guess I mean that I haven't seen you much," Carly clarified. "Is anything wrong?"

Pat gripped the steering wheel hard. Wrong? What could be wrong? I could be in love with you, that's what is wrong!

"No, I've just been busy. I'm through with my nesting shorebirds, though. I should have more time to spend out here now. In the afternoons, anyway."

"Are you upset with me?"

"No! Why would you think that?"

"Because you've been avoiding me," Carly said. "And you know you have so don't try to deny it."

Shit!

"Is it because of what happened the other night?" Carly asked.

"Maybe. Look, I know I shouldn't have kissed you. You told me you weren't attracted to me. In fact, not at all is what you said. So, yes, I feel bad about what happened. I'm sorry. I won't . . . it won't happen again."

Carly closed her eyes, remembering her words that night. So, Pat had actually believed her. Amazing. However, she didn't believe Pat.

"You're so full of shit, Pat Ryan. Why won't you tell me what's bothering you? I know you're not upset because you kissed me."

"Look, I can be remorseful. I have it in me."

"Remorseful? Because we kissed? I hardly think that merits remorseful."

"Okay, fine. You don't want me to apologize, I won't."

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"You want me to tell you what is wrong with me?"

"I just asked, didn't I?"

"Okay, I'll tell you." Pat stopped at the edge of the pond and killed the motor. She turned in her seat and faced Carly. It was a mistake. The sea-green eyes that looked back at her were wounded, confused. Damn. "I'm attracted to you. And the fact that you're not attracted to me hasn't killed this desire I have to kiss you senseless every time I'm around you. That's what is wrong."

Pat grabbed her camera bag and got out, leaving a speechless Carly staring after her. She disappeared into the brush, finally slowing her pace. She would scare off every bird for half a mile if she didn't.

"I fucking hate this," she whispered. She hated being out of control and around Carly Cambridge, she was simply out of control. In love with her? Christ! You haven't even slept together. I really think that's a requirement, Pat.

She knew what had her so freaked. It was the damn picture she'd taken of Carly on the porch that one morning. The eyes in that picture totally controlled her. And for the first time in her life, Pat really wanted someone and that someone didn't want her back. Or so she'd convinced herself. The kiss the other night may have told otherwise, but Carly's words still haunted her.

Carly stared at the spot where Pat disappeared. So, Pat wanted to kiss her senseless. Lovely. She grabbed the bridge of her nose with two fingers and closed her eyes. She didn't think she could stand it if Pat kissed her senseless. In fact, just the thought of that made her weak. She could not resist Pat Ryan. She didn't know why she was even trying.

Pat finally immerged into the clearing and Carly remembered why they were here in the first place. She grabbed her binoculars, resisting the urge to look at Pat, instead, searching for the egrets. She found them much as they'd been that first day, the male on the ground. The female was not on the nest, she was on a branch above them. Two fuzzy white birds, now nearly doubled in size, crowded the nest.

She finally moved her binoculars to the woman who had been consuming her thoughts all week. She caught her breath. Pat's beauty never failed to move her. The concentration on Pat's face was intense, but her lips looked soft, gentle. As Carly knew they were. Suddenly, Pat's blue eyes were there, staring right at her. She felt her hands trembling but she couldn't look away. My God, I want her to kiss me senseless. Mercifully, Pat looked back to the nest and Carly lowered the glasses.

A few minutes later, Pat disappeared into the brush again and Carly tried to relax. But when Pat opened the door and met her eyes, Carly felt her heart rate increase.

"I guess you saw," Pat said. "Two."

"Yes."

Pat put the camera bag in the back, then before starting the Jeep, she turned to Carly.

"Look, I'm sorry, I . . .."

Carly stopped her with a light touch on her bare arm. "You have nothing to apologize for, Pat."

"You make me crazy, Dr. Cambridge, you know that?"

Carly looked up and met her blue eyes.

"Yes, I know. And," she admitted, "I lied."

"Lied?"

"When I said I wasn't attracted to you."

To say that Pat was stunned was an understatement. She searched the green eyes that were so close to her own, but they were full of questions, not answers. Finally, the green eyes pulled away and Pat started the Jeep, driving them back to the ranch house in silence.

"Stay for lunch?" Carly offered.

"No. I promised Aunt Rachel I would swing by there."

"Okay."

Carly got out and walked around to Pat's side.

"I was wondering if you were free on Sunday," Carly said.

Pat grinned. "I'm never free, Dr. Cambridge. Cheap, but not free."

Carly smiled. "How cheap?"

"We can barter if you like?"

"My niece's birthday is Sunday. My parents are having a little party. Why don't you come along," Carly offered.

"Meeting the family? Kinda early for that, don't you think? I mean, I've not even seen you naked yet."

Carly smiled at Pat's teasing.

"And by Sunday, you still won't have."

"But, I've already imagined it anyway."

Carly couldn't resist. "That's okay. So have I."

Pat opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. What could she possibly say to that?

"So do you want to go or not?"

"Sure. It's a date," she said and backed away.

"Not a date," Carly called after her.

"Think what you want," Pat shot back as she drove off.

Damn the woman. Can't anything be simple with her? It wasn't a date, Carly told herself. She just thought that Pat might enjoy her family. They were friendly, easy to be around. And they would be full of questions. Carly had never brought a woman with her before.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Carly picked Pat up at one on Sunday afternoon. She had on white shorts and a dark blue blouse that made her eyes even bluer, if possible. Her dark hair hung loose around her face, her bangs brushing her eyebrows and she looked absolutely gorgeous. Yes, her family would be full of questions.

"So, all lawyers, huh? This should be fun," Pat said.

"They're very nice. I promise you won't be subjected to a deposition."

"No. But you may be."

Carly laughed. "Yes, you're probably right. I've never brought a . . . friend with me before."

"Well, I promise I'll behave. Now, fill me in on everyone so I won't be completely lost."

"My oldest brother is Mark. His wife is Suzanne and they have three children. Robert is the oldest. We call him Bobby because my father's name is Robert. Haley is ten and Michael is eight. Carl is my other brother. He's married to Kim and they have two kids, both girls. Brittany is six today. And then Katie, she's two. She's an absolute angel and I adore her."

"And your mother?"

"Katherine. Everyone calls her Kathy."

Pat nodded. It would certainly be different than anything she was used to. Her own upbringing had been so formal. She never recalled a backyard birthday party.

"Are you nervous?" Carly asked.

"Past that. Terrified is more like it."

Carly laughed. "Somehow I doubt there is anything that could terrify you, Pat."

"You terrify me."

Carly glanced quickly at her then away. The softly spoken words echoed in the Jeep and Carly reached over and squeezed one of Pat's hands.

"I don't mean to terrify you. I'm just trying to survive here."

Pat opened her hand and entwined their fingers, feeling the gentle pressure that Carly returned.

"Yes, I know. Maybe that's what terrifies me. One of us may not survive."

Carly relaxed, allowing Pat to hold her hand. It felt nice. Occasionally, Pat's thumb would caress her skin, then stop, as if Pat just then realized what she was doing.

When they crossed the bridge into Corpus, Carly turned down Bayside Drive, past the monster homes that lined the bay. Her parent's home was no different.

"Damn," Pat murmured.

"Yes, I know."

"You grew up here?"

"No. They've only been here about five years. Our home was a little more modest than this. But please don't judge them by this house," Carly said. "They are really down-to-earth. But when my grandfather died, they could afford this. Putting three kids through law school and med school wasn't cheap," she said, feeling the need to defend her family.

"Hey, Donald Ryan, remember. I know what pretentious means. And I wasn't for one minute judging you or your family."

"I'm sorry. This is just a bit much, I know. It's so different from where we grew up. All the homes here just scream the word 'snob'. But they are really very nice."

"Now who's nervous?" Pat asked.

They parked on the circle drive behind a Lexus and a Mercedes. Carly's black Jeep looked totally out of place. She wondered if Carly ever regretted her decision not to follow the rest of the family into law school. No, she doubted that thought ever crossed her mind. Carly loved her job with a passion few could match. And she could not picture Carly dressed in a business suit, sitting behind a desk in a stuffy office. Carly was totally at home trudging through the marshes, trying to save what she loved.

"What are you thinking about?" Carly asked as they walked to the front door.

"I was trying to picture you in a business suit in a lawyer's office," Pat admitted.

"And?"

"And in my mind, you were wearing shorts and your hair was windblown and the sun was shining on your face and you were absolutely beautiful."

Their eyes met and Carly smiled warmly at Pat. Beautiful, huh? No, beautiful was this woman standing next to her.

"Thank you," Carly whispered. Her eyes dropped for a brief second to Pat's lips. She turned away before she did something really stupid. Like kiss her.

The outside of the home looked much like Pat's parents house. Once inside, however, the difference was enormous. This was definitely a home. Family pictures were everywhere and there was a warmth that had always been missing in Pat's home. Love. That was the difference.

They followed the laughter out to the patio where the extended deck held six adults and an assortment of children.

"Come on. They're very friendly, I promise."

"Aunt Carly! About time."

A blonde headed girl raced up and threw herself at Carly. It could have been her own daughter, Pat thought.

"Happy birthday, Brittany."

"Where's my present?"

"What makes you think I got you a present?" Carly teased.

"Because it's my birthday and you're supposed to bring presents. That's what mommy said."

"Oh. Well, I did. It's inside with the others."

"Good. Who's this?" she asked, pointing at Pat.

"This is my friend, Pat."

"Hi Brittany," Pat said.

Carly laughed at Pat's nervousness. She doubted the woman was ever around children.

"Come on. Let me introduce you."

Pat nodded, then reached for Carly's arm.

"Please don't leave me alone," she whispered.

"Not for a second. I promise."

Introductions were made and Pat finally relaxed when Carly shoved her into a lawn chair. The oldest boy, Bobby, offered her a glass of iced tea and before she knew what was happening, a small child was climbing into her lap.

"What the hell?" she murmured.

Carly laughed and took Katie into her own lap.

"She's never met a stranger," Carly explained. "How's my angel?"

Pat smiled as she watched the child snuggle against Carly. She looked up and found Katherine's eyes on her. She smiled at Carly's mother, then looked away. She wondered what they must all think.

"How's the ranch going, Carly?"

"Good, Mark. The ranch house is completely finished, finally. We started digging the marshes out this week. That will take the rest of the summer. I got your check, by the way. That was very generous. Thank you."

"I know how important this is to you. I've been shamelessly soliciting donations for you, too. Send some of your brochures over to the office. Clients are always looking for a tax write-off."

"I don't care what their reason is," Carly laughed. "I'll take it."

"I just now made the connection with your name," Mark said to Pat.

Pat cringed. She didn't want to talk about her father. But that wasn't the connection he was talking about.

"I have one of your prints in my office. Whooping Crane at sunrise. I love them. I hope they find the ranch eventually. I would love to see one close up."

"They are beautiful. I know the print you're talking about. That's the closest I've ever been to one. I had to practically bribe the rangers at Aransas to let me out into the marshes."

"Do you ever go out on the tour boats?"

"I've been a few times, but you can't really get close enough, not for a good photo, anyway."

"Pat just enjoys the company of the other birders, don't you?" Carly teased.

"Other birders? You know as well as I do that title does not apply to me."

"You're not a birder?" Mark asked.

Pat rolled her eyes and Carly laughed.

"Yes, she is. Her identification skills are just a little lacking," Carly said.

Pat glared at her, which only caused Carly to laugh more.

"That doesn't work on me and you know it."

"I'm not a birder," Pat hissed.

"Careful. You don't want to offend Mark."

Mark looked confused at the banter between the two women and Carly took pity on him.

"Pat's afraid she'll end up like Mrs. Davenport, all dressed up in her birding outfit, hat and all. So, she refuses to be labeled as a birder."

Pat smiled sweetly at Carly, but murmured, "You'll pay for this."

"Can't wait."

They both forgot about Mark. Green eyes locked on blue and Carly felt her heart pound against her chest at all those blue eyes promised.

Later, when the hamburgers were ready, they all stood around the picnic table, fixing their own. Carly's mother pulled her aside, motioning with her head to Pat.

"Where did you find her? She's gorgeous."

Carly smiled. "We're not seeing each other. We're just friends. Besides, I didn't find her. She's working with me."

"Sure."

"Sure, what? Really. We're not," Carly insisted.

But her mother only smiled at her and nodded. "That's nice. Keep telling yourself that."

"What do you mean?"

"I think she needs rescuing," her mother said. "Katie seems to like her, too."

Katie was perched on Pat's lap, reaching for her hamburger. Pat held it out of her reach, then Katie grabbed a fistful of dark hair. Carly covered the smile on her face and walked over.

"I see you've been captured," she said to Pat.

"Yes, this little monster has about six arms."

Their eyes met and Carly thought Pat looked adorable with her hair in disarray and one sticky hand still wrapped around a fistful.

"Let me save you, sweetheart."

Pat nearly dropped her plate.

"Thank you. I thought you'd never ask."

"I was talking to my niece."

Carly snatched the child out of Pat's lap, then gave Pat a slight wink.

"You'll pay for that, too," Pat told her.

"I don't doubt that I will. Isn't that right, sweetheart?" she cooed to Katie.

Pat's eyes never moved far from Carly, even when her father came over to make conversation. Pat wondered what they all thought of her, what Carly had told them. They were all pleasant enough, friendly actually. And her mother showed particular interest in her. In fact, she enjoyed their company. Whereas Mark was serious, Carly's brother Carl was the jokester. The kids seemed to flock to him and Pat noticed that Carly's personality was a combination of both her brothers. One minute serious, the next teasing.

She had a sudden feeling of loss. She looked around her, seeing all the happy faces, the love, and she deeply regretted her own lack of family. They had never been this close, even when her mother pretended that they were.

Carly noticed the frown, the pensive look on Pat's face. She went to her immediately

"Hey, how are you holding up?"

"I'm good," Pat said.

Carly didn't believe her but she didn't press. Instead, she sat down next to her.

"We should probably get going," Carly said. "There's a couple of board members coming out to the ranch tomorrow."

"Board members?" Pat asked.

"From Habitats For Nature," Carly explained. "They want to take a look at the construction."

"So, you have bosses, too," Pat said.

"Yes. Habitats For Nature has several projects going on right now. They get generic donations but each project solicits their own to be earmarked directly. The success of the ranch depends on how well I market it."

"So they'll be looking at the construction as well as your bank account?" Pat guessed.

"Yes. And it's pretty thin right now. But once we get the brochures out we should be fine. And then of course, with the local contributions I hope to get, that should put us in the black."

"When will the brochures go out?"

"They'll be ready next week. I hope," Carly added. "So, are you ready to call it a day?"

"Whenever you are," Pat said. She glanced around, looking at the happy family and she felt the depression settle more firmly around her. She had no place here.

The trip back was made almost in silence. Carly made several attempts at conversation but Pat's comments were minimal. She finally gave up.

"Are you okay?" Carly asked when she pulled up behind Pat's Jeep.

"Yes, fine," Pat said. "I really enjoyed meeting your family. They all seem very nice."

"They are. I'm glad you went with me."

Pat got out and slammed the door, looking in from the passenger's side at Carly.

"Me, too. Drive carefully. I'll be out sometime this week."

Carly caught her eyes for only a moment before Pat looked away. She couldn't understand what could be wrong.

"Okay. See you later," she said. She watched Pat walk up the stairs before backing away.

As she sat on the ferry, Carly tried to think of what could be wrong with Pat. Did someone say something to her? Had her mother cornered her? Surely Pat would have said something. But the look in her eyes was almost haunted, painful. And it bothered Carly all the way to the ranch.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

 

 

 

 

Pat made herself a drink and took it to the deck, listening to the waves as they crashed against the shore. For the first time in so long, she felt totally alone. Seeing Carly with her family showed her all that she didn't have. She had Aunt Rachel. That was all. She had no family. She had no mother and father and sister. They were there, somewhere. But not anywhere where she was welcome.

A few years ago, she'd tried to contact her sister. The conversation had been brief. Her father had threatened Melissa so Pat couldn't really blame her. Melissa told her that she wasn't a part of their life anymore.

Pat downed her drink in one swallow, then held the glass against her chest. The stars were out and she leaned her head back, watching them. God, but she hadn't felt this way in so long, she hardly knew how to handle it.

She went inside for another drink, then stared at the phone as it rang. It would be Carly, she knew. She could tell by the look in her eyes as she drove away that Carly was worried about her. Pat thought about not answering it. But she reached for it with one hand as the other poured coke into her glass.

"Are you okay?"

"Sure. I'm fine," Pat said quietly. She walked out to the deck, again sitting in the lonely chair in the dark.

"You seemed upset. What's wrong?" Carly asked.

"I'm sorry," Pat whispered. "Just sometimes, I miss having a family, having someone in my life."

"Oh, Pat. I didn't mean for this outing to upset you. I just wanted you to meet my family. And I wanted them to meet you."

"Carly, I really enjoyed the day. Your family is very nice and I liked spending time with you. I'll be fine. It just . . . made me realize what I've never had."

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

 

 

 

 

When Carly hung up the phone, she had a strange sense of loss. Pat was obviously upset, despite her words. And Carly wished she were there. She wanted nothing more than to hold Pat, to comfort her. That scared her. It was one thing to be insanely attracted to the other woman. It was totally another to want to offer comfort . . . and love.

Even as she fell asleep, her thought were on Pat, wondering if she would find any peace tonight.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

 

 

 

 

Carly felt totally underdressed as she escorted three men in suits around the ranch. They were, however, impressed with the progress she'd made on the ranch.

"Dr. Cambridge, everything is ahead of schedule. You've done a fabulous job here," Mr. Kaplan told her.

"Thank you, but we've been blessed with great weather. This marsh will be finished in a week or so, then we can start planting. They should be through with the rest by the end of summer. In two or three years, the marshes will look almost natural."

"Is this a freshwater marsh?"

"No, this one is saltwater. See where they damned the bay," Carly said, pointing towards the mound of earth the bulldozer had yet to move. "Once we plant the native coastal grass, we'll move the dam and let the water from the bay back in. It'll flood this whole area here," she said, motioning to where they were standing. "The other marshes will be freshwater. But this will be the largest. This is where we hope the Whooping Cranes will winter."

"Have you had contact with Aransas? I'm sure they're concerned with losing some of their birds," he said.

"Yes, they are. But as long as we offer protected habitat, they're all for it. Politics aside, we are all working for the same cause," she said.

Their tour lasted another hour and by the time they walked back to the ranch house, it was nearly noon. She hoped Elsa had lunch ready.

She did. The table in the kitchen was crowded with take-out from a local restaurant in Rockport. Seafood salad and fresh shrimp, along with pasta and garlic bread. She nodded at Elsa, thanking her silently.

While the men filled their plates, she whispered to Elsa. "Have you heard from Pat?"

"No."

"Where's Martin?"

"Out at the barn."

"Doing what?"

"He talked them into redoing the shed. No extra cost."

"How in the world did he manage that?"

"He's persuasive, what can I say?"

Carly stared at Elsa, then grinned.

"Something I should know?"

"Well, he's very persuasive. Is this a good time to tell you that I think I'm in love with him?"

"What?" Carly hissed. "How in the world did this happen? And why didn't I know about it?"

"Dr. Cambridge, this is delicious," Mr. Kaplan said. "Local seafood?"

"Yes. This is from a restaurant in Rockport, right off the marina."

"Well, my compliments."

"Thanks." Carly glanced at Elsa and rolled her eyes. She was ready for the suits to leave.

And they did as soon as the last shrimp was eaten. Carly and Elsa were watching their rental car leave as Pat's Jeep approached. Only Pat wasn't alone. Rachel Yearwood got out, her normally perfect hairdo windblown beyond recognition.

Carly watched her step gracefully from the Jeep but her eyes went to the other woman, the one with the shorts and tank top and ever-present baseball cap.

"Ella es tan hermesa," Elsa murmured.

"What?"

"She is so beautiful," Elsa whispered, translating.

"Si," Carly agreed.

"Dr. Cambridge, so good to see you again," Rachel greeted.

"Hello, Rachel. What brings you out this way?"

"Pat's been describing the ranch and I wanted to see for myself," she said. "I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not. You're welcome any time." Carly slid her eyes to Pat and smiled, please to see that the normal sparkle was back.

"She threatened me," Pat said. "Don't let her fool you."

Carly grinned and turned to Elsa. "This is my assistant, Elsa Sanchez. Elsa, this is one of our donors, Rachel Yearwood, Pat's aunt."

"Pat's told me about you. Pleased to meet you," Rachel said.

"What's she told you?" Elsa asked.

"She said you were feisty. I hope she wasn't kidding. I like fiesty."

Elsa looked at Pat and laughed. "Thanks." She took Rachel's arm and led her to the porch. "Come on inside. I'll show you around."

Carly walked up to Pat and lightly grasped her arm.

"Okay?"

"Yes, thanks."

"I was . . . worried about you," Carly admitted.

"Don't be. I'm fine. I had half a bottle of rum and things seem much better today. Except for the slight headache."

"If I'd known it would upset you, I wouldn't have ever asked you to go with me," Carly said. "I'm sorry."

"I would never pass up a chance to be with you. I just got a little . . . bummed. But I'm fine. And really, I had a good time. I enjoyed meeting your family. You're very lucky."

Carly read between the lines and her heart broke for this proud woman. She had so much to offer. For the life of her, she couldn't understand why Pat's family had deserted her. Especially for something that was totally out of Pat's control.

Without thinking, Carly took the step necessary to reach Pat. She touched Pat's lips lightly with her own. Then she turned and walked to the house.

"Wait! You can't do that and just walk away," Pat called.

"Sure I can."

"No, you can't."

Carly turned and shrugged. "Yes, I can." She then disappeared into the house.

Pat still stood beside her Jeep, speechless. Carly had kissed her. And it had been so quick, Pat hadn't had time to react. To kiss her back. Damn.

She walked inside, finding the three women engrossed in conversation over some bird. She rolled her eyes. Get birders together and they never shut up.

"Mrs. Davenport claims they've nested on her property for years," Rachel said. "Oh, Pat, there you are. Tell Dr. Cambridge about the Ruddy Turnstones."

Pat met Carly's amused eyes and gave a half-smile.

"And what should I tell her?" Pat asked. "They had four young to start with. The last time I was there, only two were left. I suspect Mrs. Davenport abducted the other two and sold them on the black market."

Rachel's eyes widened and Elsa stared. Only Carly laughed outright.

"Patricia!"

"Patricia?" Carly murmured.

"Okay. We can blame owls if you like," Pat said. "But I still suspect Mrs. Davenport."

Carly laughed again, loving Pat's sense of humor.

"You are so bad," she said.

"You've not yet seen bad, Dr. Cambridge," Pat replied as her eyes locked on Carly's.

"Why don't I show you the Visitor's Center," Elsa offered to Rachel. "I'm sure these two can find something to argue about."

"I would love to see it. And what about the egret nest Pat's been talking about?"

"No," Pat said. "They're nervous. We don't want to scare them. No visitors."

Carly was surprised at Pat's possessiveness over the nest but she agreed. If they wanted to build a colony, they couldn't chance disturbing the first nesting pair.

"Well, then I'll settle for the Visitor's Center. Ms. Sanchez, if you would?"

"Thank you," Carly said to Pat when the door closed.

"It's ours," Pat said, referring to the nest. "No one else needs to know where it is."

Carly nodded, resisting the urge to go to Pat. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around the woman and hold her.

"But, there is the little matter of what you started outside . . . and didn't stay to finish," Pat said.

"I thought I had finished," Carly said.

"No. You barely got started."

Pat took a step towards her and Carly stood her ground, swallowing nervously as Pat neared.

"Why did you kiss me?" Pat asked quietly

"I would hardly call that a kiss," Carly said.

"You're right, of course. You want to try again?"

Carly got lost in Pat's eyes. She was actually drowning, she realized. Her feet refused to move, even as Pat drew nearer.

"You have no idea how much I want you to kiss me again," Pat murmured.

"Yes, I do," Carly whispered.

They were but a breath apart, their bodies moving together without thought. Carly closed her eyes, wanting Pat's kiss like never before. She simply could not resist this woman. She realized she no longer had control of her feelings.

But just as their lips met, just as Carly felt the softness of Pat against her, just as she opened her mouth to Pat, Martin called to her.

"Dr. Cambridge, do you . . . Jesus, yo soy tan arrepentido."

"Shit. Can I not get a break here?" Pat whispered.

Carly turned scarlet and moved away from Pat, putting a safe distance between her and the woman she could no longer resist.

"Martin, it's okay. What?" she asked sharply.

"Ah, the ah, the . . ."

"Martin?"

"The shed. Do you want water and electricity run in there?"

"Yes, if it's possible. We'll use that for rehabilitation, if we need it. And I'm sure at some point, we will," Carly said, all business now. She moved farther away from Pat. She seemed to have her body under control again. At least for the moment.

"I'll go with you and have a look," she offered.

Pat finally found her voice. She walked over to Martin and playfully punched his arm.

"Thanks a lot. Perfect timing," she murmured.

Carly glanced once at Pat and returned her smile, then followed Martin out the kitchen door. They walked the short distance to the barn and adjoining shed.

"I thought you couldn't speak Spanish. What the hell did you say in there?"

"I'm really sorry, Dr. Cambridge," he said. "I never would have just barged in on you like that if I'd known . . .."

"It's Carly. And I'm sorry, Martin. I'm sure this must be a shock to you. I never discussed my . . . personal life with you. Actually, I didn't plan on having a personal life to discuss," she said.

"No, it's not that. Elsa told me already. I just . . .."

"Elsa told you what?" Carly asked.

"She . . . she told me about you and Pat," he said, now embarrassed himself.

"About me and Pat? What exactly did she tell you?" Carly demanded. She would kill her later, she decided.

"She just said . . . look, it's none of my business. I'm sorry. I'll be sure to knock next time," he said.

"You will not knock, Martin. That's our office. I will try to keep my . . . personal life out of it."

Jesus, she couldn't believe Martin had walked in on them. And she regretted it. Not because Martin had seen, but because of what he'd interrupted. She doubted she and Pat would have another moment alone today. Perhaps it was best. One kiss would lead to another and soon, she would be in over her head. And she definitely was not ready for that kind of intimacy with Pat. Oh, her body was ready, of that she was certain. But her mind was still locked on the past.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

 

 

 

 

The morning was beautiful, cloudless. Carly stood at the edge of the bay, watching the sun rise out of the water. She wanted to enjoy the morning while she could. Soon, she would be stuck inside. The brochures were in. Elsa was picking them up for her and they would spend the afternoon affixing labels. Thousands of labels. She hoped she could persuade Pat to help, too. Pat had been out every day, but she was busy following the contractors around. They hadn't had a moment alone all week. Either Elsa or Martin seemed to be around. She wondered if Pat regretted it as much as she did.

Then she smiled. She had cornered Elsa, demanded to know what she'd told Martin. Elsa denied saying anything, then Carly had threatened to tell Martin that Elsa was in love with him.

"Mi Dios," Elsa had stated. "I'll kill you."

Elsa finally spilled everything, including the night she and Martin had spent together.

"You slept with him?" Carly demanded. "With my Martin?"

"He's not your Martin. And yes, I told you, I couldn't resist him."

"Elsa, you are so weak."

"Yes, I am. But unlike you, I won't run from a possible love life."

"I'm not exactly running anymore. I can't seem to resist Pat either," she told Elsa.

And that was true, she admitted. She couldn't resist her. She didn't want to. Each night, when she crawled into her empty bed, she wondered what it would be like to make love with Pat. And each morning she woke still wondering.

"What are you doing?"

Carly jumped, putting a hand to her chest.

"Jesus! Why must you always do that?" she demanded.

"I don't always, Dr. Cambridge. You want me to start honking my horn when I drive up? Or perhaps those bells you mentioned?"

Carly turned around and looked at Pat. Earth tones today. Tan shorts and dark brown sleeveless shirt. Beautiful.

"So, catching the sunrise?" Pat asked.

"Yes. We're going to be stuck inside today. The brochures are ready."

"Good. Did they send you an advance? Did they turn out?"

"I haven't seen them. Elsa drove to Corpus to pick them up. We're going to start on the labels as soon as she gets here."

"Need help?" Pat offered.

"Yes, actually. I was hoping you wouldn't mind."

"Can I sit next to you?" Pat asked.

"You can sit anywhere you want."

"Anywhere? Careful. I might just want to crawl into your lap."

Carly laughed.

"I doubt my lap would hold you."

Pat loved it when Carly laughed. Her whole face lit up, making her more beautiful, if that were possible. Without thought, she raised her camera, capturing Carly with a smile still on her face.

Carly pretended to be annoyed. She normally hated having her picture taken. But there was something about the way Pat looked at her, the way she held the camera with such poise.

"What makes you think you can do that?"

Pat grinned. "Because I'm the one with the camera."

The smile that Carly flashed caused Pat's heart to stop. She slowly lowered the camera, her eyes searching and finding Carly's.

"Jesus, you are so beautiful," she whispered.

Carly watched as Pat stepped closer, but she was powerless to move. Her eyes dropped to Pat's lips, knowing without a doubt that she could not say no to this woman. When she raised her eyes again, there was no doubting the look in Pat's blue ones. She reached for Pat even before Pat stopped walking. Their mouths fought for control.

Carly whimpered when Pat's tongue moved past her lips and danced with her own for the first time. She needed no encouragement from Pat as her lower body molded itself to the other woman. And God, it felt so good to be held and kissed this way. She crushed Pat to her, her arms holding Pat tightly against her body.

They finally drew apart, their breathing ragged. Carly opened her eyes, looking into Pat's. So blue. She wanted to drown there. She pulled Pat's mouth to hers again, softer, gentler now. The fury of their first kiss was absent as they explored each other with gentle tongues.

Finally, Carly pulled away, separating herself from Pat.

"You drive me absolutely crazy, you know that, don't you?" Carly asked.

"You could pretend you're smashed and I'm a stranger and you won't know my name in the morning," Pat suggested.

"You know I can't do that. You're not a stranger and I'm not going to use you to satisfy my . . . hunger."

"Please, use me," Pat whispered.

Carly reached out a hand and touched Pat's face.

"I would never."

"Then, let's try it the normal way," Pat suggested. "I don't want a house from you or a car or biology homework. I just want you."

"I can't do that, Pat. I almost killed myself. Over her," she said disgustingly. "I can't take a chance again. Not with you. I couldn't survive," she admitted quietly.

Pat wondered if she could survive the rest of the day after the kiss Carly had just given her. But she smiled. She couldn't be angry with Carly because it was there in her eyes. Love. Carly could fight it for awhile and Pat was content to let her try. But she knew Carly would never win. It was there in her eyes. And love would win.

So she took Carly's hand and tugged her along.

"Come on. Let's go see your egrets before we have to work."

"That's it?" Carly asked. "You have nothing else to say?"

"What?"

"I think you enjoy making me crazy," Carly accused. She never thought Pat would just let it go. Not after their little kissing scene.

"Oh, please. I'm the one that needs a cold shower here."

Carly stopped.

"I need one, too, Pat."

Pat grinned.

"Oh, and now you're just being mean."

Carly laughed. God, she liked this woman. Pat could drive her emotions from one end to the other, all in a matter of sentences. She liked Pat's sense of humor. Pat enjoyed baiting her, teasing her, making her so angry she wanted to slap her, then have her laughing the next instant. But it was her kisses that drove her totally over the edge.

And over the edge of the nearest cliff is where she wanted to toss Pat after nearly three hours of label sticking.

"Jesus Christ, are you sending this to every goddamn birder in the country?" Pat asked for the third time.

"You have the attention span of a five year old," Carly said.

"Five? Earlier you said ten."

"Earlier I still had a sense of humor."

Both Elsa and Martin laughed but Pat gave them her best glare and they stopped immediately. This caused Carly to laugh.

"Oh, please, you two. Don't humor her."

"Dr. Cambridge, for cheap labor, you're taking an awful lot of liberties with me," Pat said.

"You're right. I am. I forgot you willing volunteered for this project."

"I volunteered to photograph this project. Perhaps I should capture this on film. It just reeks of environmental abuse. How many trees died for this?"

"Recycled paper. None."

"I hate you," Pat murmured.

"No you don't."

"I can pretend to."

"Will you two stop?" Elsa finally asked. "You're making me crazy. Mi Dios!"

Carly and Pat both looked at her and laughed. Then they looked at each other and their laughter turned to smiles.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

 

 

 

 

Pat watched the weather forecast in disbelief. Tropical storm? It was barely June. And the bright sunshine outside did little to change her mind.

"Additional strengthening is expected in the next twenty-four hours. We'll have an update at ten. Stay tuned."

Well, it was still far out in the gulf. Maybe it would turn and Louisiana could worry about it. Pat hated storms. She hated the buildup, the preparations, the boarding up of her house. And she especially hated it when she went through all of that and the damn storm hit hundreds of miles away. But still, she never took a chance. She had lived on the coast too long for that.

Her phone rang immediately. It would be Aunt Rachel. It always was when a storm formed.

"Did you hear?"

"Yes. I heard."

"You'll stay here, of course. Alice has already called. They'll be here tomorrow to start securing everything."

"Aunt Rachel, it's still in the Caribbean. It'll be days before they even know which way it's going."

"You can't be too careful," she said.

"You get like this every time the first one forms. By November, you hardly care."

"And bring your own liquor. I'll not have you stranded here for days and expect to share mine."

Pat laughed. It was another standing joke between them. Aunt Rachel laughed, too.

"But seriously, don't take any chances, Pat. Board your house when the time comes. I don't want to worry about you."

"You'll never let me live that down, will you? That was years ago," she said. In fact, it was the first year she'd lived in the house. She'd lost nearly everything, all because she didn't believe the forecast. She'd escaped with her cameras and made it to a bar on the bay side. She'd had a wonderful time as they watched the storm rage around them.

"No, I won't. And perhaps you should check in with Dr. Cambridge. I'm sure she could use some help out there. To think they just finished with the construction. It would be such a shame to lose all that in a storm. Why, remember Carla?"

"How old do you think I am?"

"Old enough to have heard my stories a hundred times."

"Okay. I'll check in with Dr. Cambridge," Pat said.

"You like her, don't you?" Aunt Rachel said unexpectedly.

"Of course I like her."

"Good. She's gay, you know. Elsa told me."

"Elsa told you?"

"Well, I asked her," Aunt Rachel admitted. "I thought that perhaps she was, but you never know nowadays."

"Don't meddle," Pat warned. "She's fragile."

"Fragile? She is no such thing. She can handle you."

Pat laughed. "But I'm not so sure I can handle her."

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

 

 

 

 

"Yes, I heard," Carly said. "I don't fucking believe it, but I heard."

"We've got plenty of time. Don't worry," Elsa said.

"It'll flood the marsh and we've not planted. I'm not worried about he structures. The Visitor's Center is sound. The ranch house is far enough from the bay. And there's the barrier island. But the storm surge. We'll be starting over with the marsh."

"Calm down. You're sounding hysterical."

"I am hysterical. This could set us back months," she said.

"Open a bottle of wine," Elsa suggested.

"I've done that."

"Well, then try drinking it."

And Carly did just that. She pulled one of the chairs out onto the front porch and sat watching the bay as the water shown in the moonlight. It was a crystal clear night, belying the storm that was hiding far in the distance. In the six months she had been here, she'd grown to love this piece of property. And in the few weeks that she'd actually been living here, she'd grown accustomed to the peaceful bay. The gulf could turn angry and the bay was always at its mercy.

She thought of the marsh, nearly ready for the planting of the native coastal grasses and reeds. Even a minor storm would flood it. It could take weeks to drain. But she didn't want to think about that. She could not control nature.

She could hear the phone ringing upstairs. She'd not brought it down with her and she didn't relish running up the stairs to catch it. Then, a short time later, her cell phone rang. It was still strapped to her waist.

"Hello."

"Am I interrupting?"

"You're only interrupting my worrying," she said.

"It'll be okay."

"I'm worried about my egrets," she admitted.

"They've seen storms before."

"Not the babies."

"Where are you?"

"On the porch. Watching the bay. You?"

"On the deck. Watching the gulf."

Carly smiled. "And is it doing anything?"

"Still coming towards me. I guess that's a good sign."

"Will your house be okay if a storm hits?"

"Well, I guess I'm glad I didn't have it painted," Pat said. "But yes, I'll board it up, as usual. Will you need some help out there?"

"Yes. I'll need you to be here," she said without thinking.

"Then I'll be there."

Carly cradled the phone against her shoulder as she twirled the wine in her glass. She glanced up and looked at the moon, only half full.

"I can always count on you, can't I?"

"Yes. Always."

"You're very good for me, you know. You make me laugh. Elsa said that I haven't laughed in years. I think she may be right."

"I hope to always make you laugh, Carly."

"I missed you today. I thought maybe that the labels yesterday scared you off. We finished, you know."

Pat laughed. "I had a meeting with the magazine guy today. We were writing captions for my pictures. I think I impressed him by actually knowing the names of all the birds."

"You'll be a birder before you know it."

"Carly, stop threatening me."

"Oh, you're so full of shit, Pat. You pretend to detest all of this, but you're just a naturalist at heart."

"I'm offended."

"No, you're not. I think you love this as much as I do."

"If you tell anyone, I'll deny it. I have a reputation, you know."

Carly smiled. There was a storm brewing, a storm that could ruin what she'd worked so hard for, and yet she smiled. Pat did that to her.

"I'm really glad you called. I think maybe I can sleep now," she said.

"I'll be out tomorrow. We'll know about the storm then. We've got time," she said.

"Yes. A another day, at least."

"Don't drink the whole bottle," Pat said.

Carly laughed. "How did you know?"

"I heard you pouring. Red wine, right?"

"Yes. And it's too late. The bottle is empty."

"Well, I'll bring aspirin tomorrow."

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

 

 

 

Pat stared at her TV and shook her head. Tropical Storm Adrian was now Hurricane Adrian. And they had a sixty-percent chance of getting hit.

"Further strengthening is expected."

"Great. Shit."

But the clouds moving in from the south didn't lie. The gulf was churning. Pat had known this just from her run this morning. She didn't need the news to tell her.

She took her coffee out to the deck, watching the waves as they crashed on shore. Her neighbors were already busy. She could hear the pounding of nails all around her. Normally, she would wait. At least one more day. It could move east, towards Galveston. But she had seen the radar. The entire gulf was shrouded in clouds. The first bands of rain were expected by nightfall, but the storm was still another day away.

For once, she wouldn't wait. She would board up her house and move inland. Aunt Rachel would need help. Carly would need help. With that, she went to her storage room and drug out the sheets of plywood that were neatly stacked against the wall.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

 

 

 

 

Carly paced as she watched The Weather Channel. The storm was huge. It would grow by mid-day to a category two. It was barely daylight but she could tell the bay was restless. There were no pelicans. No gulls or terns. They had already moved inland.

She knew the construction workers would be there soon to move their equipment. And Elsa and Martin were on their way. The Visitor's Center was equipped with storm shutters. It wouldn't take long to secure it. And the ranch house was safe. It had survived worst storms, even without the added equipment. There really wasn't much that she could do. The marsh was on its own, she knew. But she did worry about her egrets. They weren't ready to fly. In just a few more weeks, maybe. But not yet.

She busied herself with breakfast. She doubted Elsa or Martin would take the time. And they would have a busy day. She was just finishing the eggs when she heard them drive up.

"Come on up here," she called from the stairs. She didn't pause to wonder why they had arrived together.

"I see you're bribing us with breakfast," Elsa said. "I assume we'll be doing manual labor today."

"Yes. And lots of it. We've got to move the pallets of grass and reeds into the barn," she said. "Not to mention boarding up the Visitor's Center and this place."

"You hardly slept," Elsa accused.

"I slept. I had a bottle of wine."

"Well, you can stay at my place tonight."

"No. I'm staying here. It's perfectly safe," she said.

"You are not staying here alone," Elsa said.

"Yes, I am. I live here. And I want to be here."

"Martin, tell her she can't stay here," Elsa said.

"Dr. Cambridge, really, there's nothing you can do here. We'll come back as soon as it's over."

"Thank you both for your concern but I'll be perfectly fine here. It's not like it's a major storm. This house has seen much worse than Adrian. And Martin, if you call me Dr. Cambridge one more time, I'll deck you," Carly threatened.

"You're as stubborn as a mule," Elsa said, but she let it drop.

They were still struggling with the pallets of grass when Pat drove up. The construction workers had literally ignored them as they rushed to move their equipment to the other side of the barn. They were hand-loading yet another pallet onto Martin's truck when Pat walked up.

"Damn, talk about manual labor," she said. "Don't they have, like machines to do this?"

"Yes they do," Carly said. "And the machines unloaded it last week and left."

"Well, good thing I'm here. You know how much I love moving things with you guys. Why the hell are you moving it anyway? Surely a little rain can't hurt this."

"A little rain wouldn't hurt it," Carly said. "A flood would kill it. And it would be thousands of dollars down the drain."

"Elsa, where are those burly men when you need them?" Pat asked.

Elsa and Carly laughed, glad for the humor that Pat brought to the situation.

"There's only Martin, and he's as burly as we get. Well, besides you, of course," Elsa teased.

"I'm not sure if I should be offended or not," Pat said as she lifted a section of the grass.

It took them three more loads to move the rest of the grass and reeds. By then, the lunch hour had passed and the clouds were dark.

"Let's take a break," Carly said. "Then we do the Visitor's Center."

Lunch consisted of cheese sandwiches, all that Carly had in her fridge. She suddenly realized that if she were stuck there for more than one day, she would starve to death.

"No wonder you're so skinny," Elsa said. "Not only can you not cook, you don't know how to shop for food."

"If I weren't so tired, I would argue with you," Carly said.

"I think it's great," Pat said as she bit into her sandwich.

"I take it you don't cook either," Elsa said.

"Take-out. I know all the best places."

"Did you get your house boarded up?" Carly asked.

"Yep. Anything less than a ten-foot storm surge and I'm good."

"Are you staying with Rachel?"

"I suppose. I haven't talked to her today. She's busy preparing. She really gets into this."

"Well, she's lived here for years. I'm sure she's used to it," Carly said.

"Yes. But she likes the excitement."

"I could do without it."

Pat put her sandwich down and looked at Carly.

"It'll be okay, Carly. You'll see."

Carly nodded, but she couldn't help but glance at the TV in the other room. It didn't look very promising.

By the time they'd put the last sheet of plywood on the ranch house, they were all exhausted. The rain had not yet started, but the dark clouds were swirling over the bay.

"I'm starving," Elsa said. "Why don't we get cleaned up and have dinner somewhere?"

Carly was about to protest but Pat agreed.

"There's a great little place in Fulton. Best gumbo around."

"The Sandpiper," Martin said. "Yes. I could go for a bowl of gumbo. And fried shrimp."

"Dios, I could eat a seafood platter this big," Elsa said, spreading her hands apart.

"We'll meet you there. About seven?" Martin suggested.

"That's fine. That'll give me time to swing by Aunt Rachel's and get cleaned up."

"You're welcome to use my shower," Carly offered. "I assume you have clothes. Your Jeep looks packed."

"I have some clothes and my camera stuff. But I should really check on Aunt Rachel. Thanks for the offer, though."

Elsa and Martin went ahead but Pat stopped at the stairwell.

"Do you know where it is?"

"I can find it. Fulton is not that big," Carly said.

"I assume you intend on staying here, then?"

"Yes."

Pat paused, then met Carly's eyes.

"Want some company?"

Carly was about to decline. Surely Rachel would want Pat with her. But so did she.

"I would love company," she finally said.

Pat smiled. "Great. We'll have a hurricane party. Of course, that means we'll have to shop. I've seen your refrigerator."