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Her voice faded. Zane sat in the humming silence for a full minute. Celeste’s riding clothes would never fit her older sister. Winifred’s build was not delicate like his wife’s.
Winifred was more shapely. More fluid when she moved. More...handsome, that was the word. And Lord help him, she was much more uninhibited in both her speech and her actions.
He got to his feet and headed for the stable. He’d take the buggy instead. It was too hot for horseback riding.
* * *
Winifred was silent for most of the drive out to the swimming hole, and finally it got under Zane’s skin. What was she thinking about? Was she still angry about the abominable way he’d spoken to her three days ago? He tried to keep his mind on guiding the gray mare hitched to the buggy, but the woman who sat next to him on the leather seat kept capturing his attention.
She was interested in everything, the larches and sugar maples starting to turn scarlet and gold with the onset of fall, the red-tailed hawks that soared above, the deer they startled in the copse of birches as they approached the river, even the hazy purple mountains in the distance. Finally, she started to talk.
“What are those little yellow-and-brown birds in that tree?”
“Chickadees.”
“And that big blue one with the long tail?”
“That’s a blue jay. Steller’s jay, it’s called.”
She laughed. “I should have guessed by the color.” They rode in silence for another mile, and then she pointed at something on the ground. “What is that tangle of green fronds over by the riverbank?”
Zane had to laugh. “Mint. You’ve never seen mint growing in the wild? When we leave I’ll cut some to take to Sam. He dries the leaves and brews outstanding mint tea.”
“And that—” She broke off and sent him a sidelong glance. “I’m asking too many questions, aren’t I?”
He chuckled. “Not nearly enough.” He had to admit he liked showing things to her, explaining things. Celeste had shown little interest in the countryside.
“How do you know all these things? Did you grow up in the West?”
“I grew up in a small town in New York. Albany.”
“I grew up in a city. St. Louis.”
“I’ll wager you’ve never gone swimming in a river, have you?”
There was another long silence. “I’ve never gone swimming at all,” she confessed. “Is this swimming hole very, um, deep?”
Zane shot her a look. Winifred couldn’t swim? Why had she agreed to come?
The lane narrowed to mere wheel tracks, then curved around behind a stand of ash trees and emerged fifty yards from the lazily flowing river. He pulled the horse to a stop and climbed down.
“Over there.” He waved one arm. “We walk from here.”
Winifred clambered out, clutching a rolled-up bit of clothing. Celeste’s bathing costume, he guessed. He’d never seen her wear it.
The lagoon-like pond where he liked to swim lay tucked in a bend in the river, screened by drooping willow and cottonwood trees. The water looked cool and inviting. Without thinking, he stripped off his muslin shirt, then stopped short.
She stared at him as if she’d never seen a man’s bare chest before. Good God, perhaps she hadn’t. Once again her cheeks turned rose-red. It never occurred to him that she might be...modest.
“Winifred, I—”
“Do you swim, um, naked?”
“Usually, yes. Today I’ll keep my underdrawers on if you’d feel more comfortable.”
She didn’t answer for a long moment. “I will, uh, change into Cissy’s bathing costume behind that shrub.” She stepped over to a large huckleberry bush.
Zane shucked his trousers, sprinted to the water and dove in. Out of courtesy to Winifred he stayed facing away from her until he heard a soft splash behind him. When he turned he caught his breath.
She stood poised at the river’s edge, swishing the toes of one foot in the water, and good God almighty, she filled every inch of Celeste’s bathing garment. He turned away and swam to the far end of the pool, then stroked to the opposite end.
Before he reached it, he heard a yelp and a loud splash. When he looked back she was chest-deep in the river.
“How does one swim?” she called.
“Just put your arms out and bend forward and then shove off from the bottom.”
To his surprise she did exactly as he said. Her head disappeared underwater, broke the surface, then sank once more. Just as he started to stroke toward her, she reemerged, her arms flailing, water spewing out of her mouth.
