the river for a moonlight picnic.
Beth knew now they should have gone to the party with the rest of their classmates. As her father used to say, hindsight is twenty-twenty. If they hadn’t been alone in the moonlight, they would never have kissed, and if they hadn’t kissed, they wouldn’t have touched, and if they hadn’t touched, they wouldn’t have…She shook her head, not wanting to think about that night.
She wouldn’t think about it. She closed the door quickly, leaving those memories in the cold. She opened the can of mineral water and poured its contents into one of the crystal goblets she’d found in the cupboard. Then she shook two of the pain-relief tablets from the bottle. They were extra strength, with an additional ingredient to induce sleep.
It was time for her to stop worrying about what she would encounter in Riverbend. She knew that if she took the pills, she’d be a bit groggy in the morning, but she didn’t care. At least her headache would be gone and she wouldn’t toss and turn in an unfamiliar bed. With a long gulp of the sparkling water, she swallowed the tablets.
Then she turned up the volume so the Enya music could be heard in the cuddy. As she lay flat on her back staring up at the dark ceiling, she closed her eyes and waited for the music to calm her active mind.
But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop thinking about Charlie. When she closed her eyes, she saw him. Shirtless. Drinking a beer. Staring at her with that look that used to make her feel as if she was standing on the edge of a steep cliff. The last thought she had before she fell asleep was to wonder why he had never remarried.
“JEEZ, CHARLIE! The sun’s not even up yet!” fourteen-year-old Nathan Turner grumbled as he carried his duffel bag out to the pickup.
“Best time of the day. Wait until you see what sunrise looks like on the water.”
“I only got five hours of sleep last night. Isn’t there a law against dragging kids out of their beds without the proper amount of sleep?” the boy muttered belligerently.
“Not when it’s the kid’s fault because he stayed up half the night playing video games,” Charlie tossed back at him.
Nathan was uncharacteristically uncooperative as they loaded the pickup with fishing gear and supplies. He was not happy to be up so early. Actually he hadn’t been happy since Charlie had seen him sitting in the courtroom yesterday morning.
“Hey! Be careful with the bag. There are eggs inside,” Charlie said as the teen tossed a paper sack of groceries into the truck as if it was a bag of garbage.
By the time they were ready to leave, Nathan’s squinty-eyed frown had become a stubborn scowl. Charlie was losing patience. “Look, I realize this is earlier than you’re used to getting up—”
“No kidding.”
Charlie ignored the sarcasm. “But we only have two days to spend on the houseboat. If we wait until noon to go out, we’ll miss the best part of Saturday. You do want to take the houseboat on the river, don’t you?”
The only response Nathan gave was a grunt, but to Charlie it sounded like a positive grunt, which he took as a good sign.
“It should be a perfect weekend to be on the river,” Charlie said cheerfully. “If it gets as hot as they’re predicting, you’ll be able to swim right off the back of the boat.”
Mention of the houseboat had Nathan’s scowl softening, although he was reluctant to let Charlie see. He turned away, bunching his sweatshirt into a ball and propping it between his head and the window to use as a pillow.
Charlie didn’t say anything, but continued driving. It was hard to believe that this disgruntled teen with the streak of blue in his hair and the gold ring through his nose was the same clean-cut kid he had been a surrogate parent to for the past four years. What had happened to the even-tempered, happy-go-lucky Nathan?
His grandfather blamed it on the group of boys Nathan called his friends, but his grandmother insisted the moodiness had more to do with puberty. Charlie could see the obvious signs of adolescence. Nathan’s voice had changed, he’d grown four inches in four months, and it wouldn’t be long before a razor would be needed to take off the light coating of peach fuzz on his chin. Charlie was inclined to think they were probably both right, but suspected the boy’s rebellious behavior also had a lot to do with losing his mother.
After several minutes of jostling and fidgeting, Nathan said, “I don’t see why I couldn’t have taken a shower before we left.”
A shower? This from the kid who had barely raised a wet cloth to his face, let alone taken a shower, the last time he’d stayed with Charlie.
“We’re going down the river, not to the video arcade,” Charlie answered. “It’ll be like that camping trip we took last summer. Remember? Guys are allowed to be slobs on camping and fishing trips, as long as there aren’t any women around.”
His reasoning brought another sound of disgust from his temporary ward. “I hate that stupid judge. If it weren’t for him, I’d be home in my own bed.”
It bothered Charlie that Nathan didn’t want to be with him in Riverbend. In the past he’d complained about there never being enough time for the two of them to be together. Now that the judge had ordered him to spend six weeks in Riverbend, Nathan acted as if it was a punishment, not a reprieve.
Maybe that was why Charlie’s voice was a bit harsh as he said, “You’re wrong, Nathan. The reason you’re not home is that you chose to use someone else’s property for target practice.”
“I said I didn’t try to break those windows, but nobody believed me. Just because I hang out with the BDs, everyone wants to think I’m a juvenile delinquent,” he muttered sullenly.
“Who are the BDs?”
“What do you care?”
“Because I’m your buddy. Or have you forgotten?”
That took a bit of the sting out of his attitude. “They’re the bad dudes.”
Charlie frowned. “And you’re one of them?”
“I want to be. And I was just getting to where they would accept me when you had to drag me here.”
“I didn’t drag you here,” Charlie refuted. “You were ordered here by the judge because of something you did, not because of what I did. And I really don’t think being in a gang is a good idea.”
“They’re not a gang, just some guys who hang around together. They’re my friends and they’d do anything for me. I can count on them.” The defensiveness in his tone made Charlie uneasy.
“You can count on me,” he said firmly.
Nathan gave a snort of disbelief. “That’s why you’re making me get up with the cows.”
“You mean chickens,” Charlie said, trying to inject a little humor into their discussion.
Again Nathan turned toward the door and tried to position his head against his makeshift pillow. Charlie gave him his space and kept quiet.
That didn’t stop him from thinking about the teenager. Had he made a mistake sticking
