Free Angel of Smoky Hollow by Barbara McMahon Page A

to trees. Yet there’s other vegetation growing, so it’s not sterile soil.”
    Angelica knelt down on the edge of the cloth as he began unpacking the lunch. Cold fried chicken, buttered rolls, potato salad, and iced drinks. In no time she was enjoying the meal as much as she enjoyed the setting.
    He didn’t talk and neither did she. Her gaze darted around as she memorized the place. Closing her eyes once, she tried to imprint the sound of the brook and the rustle of the leaves and the bird song forever on her memory. Would she be able to recall this special moment when she was stomping through the slushy New York winters?
    â€œVery nice,” she said when she opened her eyes. Kirk leaned back on one elbow and studied the stream.
    â€œI thought you’d like it.”
    â€œDo you come often?” She leaned back on one hand, staring at the brook. The water glinted in the sunshine, the pleasing sound soothing. Now that she’d eaten, she could almost take a nap.
    â€œHaven’t lately. It’s not exactly a place to come alone. I eat at home.”
    â€œThank you for bringing me, it’s lovely.”
    â€œIn a while, we can hike upstream a bit. About a mile farther is a waterfall which dumps into a swimming hole. We could go swimming, it’s hot enough.”
    â€œI don’t have a suit,” she said.
    â€œMe either, so?”
    Angelica looked at him. The teasing light in his eyes gave him away. She swallowed and shook her head. He laughed.
    The image of the two of them swimming without a stitch on wouldn’t leave. She had never been skinny-dipping. But she’d bet lunch that Kirk had more than once. Who with, she wondered? Girlfriends from high school? Was there a special woman in his life now? Probably not or he’d not be so available. Were the women in Smoky Hollow blind?
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    They left the picnic basket at the edge of the clearing. Kirk said it would be safe, and there was no reason to carry it up and back. The stream meandered. The path along side was not as well defined as the one from town to the clearing had been. Sometimes they stepped over exposed roots of trees, around clumps of ferns. Once they crossed on stepping stones. Angelica wished she’d brought a camera. She’d never expected to be hopping from rock to rock to get across some stream of water when she awoke that morning. She laughed and Kirk turned to look at her.
    â€œThis is so different from New York City,” she explained.
    â€œBetter.”
    She nodded, scrambling to catch up. He seemed to walk along at the same pace no matter what the terrain. She was a bit out of breath keeping up with him. And while the path was primarily in shade, it was still growing warmer by the minute.
    â€œWe’ll be there soon,” he said, turning and heading on again.
    When they reached the pool, Angelica almost suggested they follow his original idea and plunge in. She was hot and out of breath. The water looked cool and inviting. The waterfall was a three-foot-tall curtain spilling over a wide lip of rock. She’d love to swim beneath it and have it rain down on her.
    â€œIs it deep?” she asked. The water was so clear she could see the rocky bottom. It didn’t look deep.
    â€œAbout four or five feet. Very deep when one is Sam’s age. Not so much now. But it’s refreshing.” He stopped by the edge and trailed his hands in it. Then he flicked her with water.
    Surprised, she leaned over and slapped a wave of water at him. Only a little reached her target. She danced away when he splashed her again. Laughing, she wished she could douse him.
    He cupped water in his hands and started for her, devilment in his eyes. Angelica shrieked and turned to run. A second later her entire back was wet. She laughed again and turned.
    â€œNo fair, you have the advantage,” she said, when he turned to get more water. She did not have clear access to the pond. Darting to the