Stranger on the Shore (7 page)

Sarah allowed herself to relax as the warm tremors of his laughter wrapped around her. His flashes of good humor, the few moments when he relaxed, were as spellbinding as any vibrations she'd ever encountered, and as intoxicating and compelling as any pied piper's music. It was just as well he didn't laugh all that often.

"That's just family," she said gently. "Families are protective of their own."

"I wouldn't know," he said harshly.

The rasp in his voice caught Sarah by surprise. She knew her reaction was obvious when Jordan smiled at her ruefully.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice gentler now. "I didn't mean to sound so harsh. It's just, well, I don't know much about families. Never gave it much thought one way or another. You don't miss what you don't have, at least not until someone points it out to you."

Sarah's eyes softened. So, Aunt Cinda was right. He had no roots, no home. Even though family surrounded her, she understood what it meant to be alone.

Jordan appeared to be lost in thought, and Sarah took a moment to reexamine her choices—as if, she though ruefully to herself, she had any. Tension formed a hard knot in her stomach. The heat inside the café was oppressive, but did she dare leave the protection of familiar ground? With this man? What kind of choice did she have? This time she'd simply have to trust her instincts—and Aunt Cinda's revelations.

"When would you like to start?" she asked.

"What?" he asked, her question obviously taking him by surprise.

"I said, when would you want to start?" she repeated. "The research, I mean. I've decided to help you, at least as much as I can. Monte Ne has always been a bit special to me, but not many people outside the area have ever heard of it. Your article could change that. Monte Ne was important, you know. And I'm not just talking about local pride. It has its place in the greater scheme of history."

"How?"

"Discovery is the excitement of research into the past," she told him in her teasing schoolteacher voice. "I'd rather you discover it for yourself, but if you don't stumble onto it, I'll tell you later. In the interest of scholarship, of course."

"I'll hold you to that," he said. "As to when, how about now? Is there anything left to see?"

"Actually, you're here at a good time. The lake's level is down and low water has exposed a few skeletons. But I thought you were more interested in what was than what is."

"It's a good starting point. You can build on skeletons. Could we scuba? Could we get a closer look that way?"

Sarah shook her head. "Most of Monte Ne land is under shallow water, at least when compared with the rest of the lake, but the currents are still treacherous."

"Okay. You're the expert. What would you suggest?"

She considered her next move carefully. She'd already agreed to help, but how far should she go? Could she trust this man? He was an outsider. She didn't get involved with outsiders, at least not any more than necessary, and certainly not on her home turf.

"Don't be ridiculous,"
she told herself. He was only interested in Monte Ne. That was a lie, of course. She could see it in his eyes. Was this what Eve had felt when first confronted with the forbidden fruit? She couldn't let herself think about trusting him.

"What you need is a guided tour of what remains of Monte Ne and one of my hour lectures on local history." The words fell unbidden from her lips. Had she meant to say that? No matter. It was done. She was committed. "Do you have transportation?"

"Yes, but—"

"I mean a truck or a rough-terrain vehicle?"

"I have a four-wheel-drive Sports Utility Vehicle. Will that do?"

"It should do just fine," she said, anxious to leave now that her decision was made. "Let's go."

* * *

Thirty minutes later, following her instructions, Jordan shifted the SUV into low gear and eased his vehicle off the road and onto a faintly marked trail between two twisted oaks. The vehicle tilted crazily as the wheels slid over boulders embedded in the dirt, then bounced out of a series of deep ruts.

Sarah sat as far away from Jordan as the seat belt and the jolting ride allowed. She was anxious to keep as much space between them as possible. But it was too little, too late. She should never have agreed to this, even if his motives were exactly what he said they were. She couldn't understand why this man affected her so, why she was attracted to him when every instinct told her to run.

The quick look she sneaked at him from the corner of her eye did nothing to reassure her. In profile, his features were strong and clean. High cheekbones, classic straight nose, well-defined cleft in a strong chin. Her eyes returned to his mouth. Would his lips demand or beguile? Seize or share? She shivered inwardly, astonished at the direction of her thoughts, and jerked her mind back to her surroundings.

"Pull in under those trees so it will be easier to turn around," Sarah said when they finally reached the crest of the ridge. "We're here."

She remained silent as Jordan looked around the flat ridge top in disbelief. Jagged sandstone outcrops were only marginally softened by the tangle of weeds and wildflowers that grew around their bases or clung tenaciously to small soil filled hollows in the rock surfaces. The summer heat had dried the wild grasses to yellow straw. Even the glossy, saber-shaped leaves of the bamboo-like Johnson grass were wilting in the afternoon sun.

"This is Monte Ne?" he asked, his skepticism evident in the tone of his voice.

"Of course not!" Sarah laughed. "But we can see the original outlines of Monte Ne from the top of the bluff."

The trailing yellow dust kicked up by the wheels of the SUV was still settling back to earth as she jumped unassisted from the vehicle's seat and waited for him to join her. "Come on," she said, moving across the small clearing. "Watch out for the poison ivy. It's especially bad in dry weather."

Sarah pushed her way through the tangled underbrush, Jordan following close behind. She heard his quick intake of breath when they arrived at the edge of a thicket and stepped out onto the rock bluff. With her feet firmly planted on the jagged sandstone outcropping, Sarah looked across the valley, paying no attention to the void that lay below her. In the distance was Beaver Lake's curving shoreline, and above it the steep, rugged slopes of the Ozarks.

"People around here say 'Our mountains ain't so high, but our valleys sure are deep,'" Sarah said quietly. "When you stand here, you know exactly what they mean."

Jordan said nothing, apparently engrossed by the scene stretched out beneath his feet. Then, when she moved her feet, several loosened pebbles fell into the void below them, and Sarah was suddenly jerked into his arms and held firmly against his chest.

The touch of her body against his seared into her consciousness. It was a feeling she didn't fully understand and couldn't have defined. She held herself rigid as his arms tightened around her, then allowed herself to relax slightly when he loosened his hold without releasing her from the confining circle of his arms.

"I'm sorry," he told her. "I'm not usually a grabber. I thought you were going over the edge."

Sarah was fighting a battle with the sensations evoked by his touch. In the dim recesses of her mind, she recognized her reaction to this man's closeness. It was reminiscent of a time she had tried to bury. But this feeling was stronger, more compelling, more frightening. Even more puzzling, she found she was enjoying it.

She forced a small laugh and tried to remove herself from the protective circle of his arms. "I've been climbing these hills since I first learned to walk," she told him. "The edge of the bluff is stable. I was perfectly safe."

Jordan's arms finally released her. "I didn't mean to startle you," he explained. "It's just that after the trouble I had finding you, I don't want to lose you so soon."

Sarah recognized his attempt to turn his reaction into a joke.

"I'm sorry I frightened you," she said, breathing easier now that she was no longer in his arms. "I'll be careful, I promise." She looked around for a moment, then, selected a rock protrusion several feet from the edge of the overhanging bluff for a seat. She motioned to Jordan to join her, trying all the while to bring her emotions under control.

Determined to ignore the way she'd felt in his arms, she waited for him to seat himself and draw a small notebook from his shirt pocket.

"If you look carefully toward the other side of the lake, you can see a crescent-shaped strip of darker water curving around the contours of that hillside," she said, carefully disciplining her voice. "Do you see it?"

Jordan bent forward, his head almost touching her shoulder, his breath fanning her cheek. "I don't—"

"Not right along the shoreline," she said, moving slightly away to escape his closeness. "Start at the water's edge, then move your eyes toward the center of the lake. About a third of the way out, the water gets deeper. It's darker in color than the water along the shoreline."

Jordan followed her instructions, slowly moving his eyes across the surface of the lake. "Now I see it," he said.

"You are looking at the famous Monte Ne lagoon. Before the dam was built and the lake filled, that crescent-shaped channel was the water that created Monte Ne."

"What's that tall concrete tower on the shore? Was it part of Monte Ne?"

"That's the south tower of Oklahoma Row," she explained. "Another hotel called Missouri Row was very similar. They were separated by a large landscaped lawn and were famous for their rustic exteriors and elegant interiors."

"I found a pamphlet in the library about that, but honestly I couldn't imagine it," Jordan said quietly. "Crystal chandeliers, string orchestras, singing gondoliers—it sounded like a Hollywood stage set. I don't see how anyone even found the place. It's hard enough now. There couldn't have been many paved roads back then."

"No, there weren't. Not many cars, either," she agreed. "But Harvey knew how isolated the area was. He planned his resort, and built a railroad spur into Monte Ne. Visitors arriving on the Monte Ne Railroad rode from the train station at the head of the lagoon to the hotels in a real Venice gondola decked with flowers and complete with a singing gondolier."

"It simply doesn't fit."

Sarah laughed. "You're right. Monte Ne wasn't exactly the typical Ozark community. The name was borrowed from the Spanish and a tribe of area Indians. It means something like 'Mountain Waters.' The name may have been apt, but Monte Ne itself was out of time and place. In fact, today you would probably say it was ahead of its time."

"How's that?"

"That's your mystery to solve."

"Its place in the greater scheme of history?"

"That's right," Sarah told him."It's not hard to find, not if you're any kind of researcher. It's just that I've never seen the connection in print before. I don't think even Coin Harvey knew what he was doing."

Sarah lowered her eyes, watching as Jordan hurriedly scribbled in his notebook.

"You said Monte Ne was Harvey's dream. What kind of man was he?"

"You can find material about Harvey." she told him. "He was a published author and considered a financial expert of his times. That's where he got the nickname 'Coin.' He was also an associate and supporter of William Jennings Bryant. He campaigned for Bryant during the 1896 presidential campaign. In fact, Harvey always claimed he discovered the Ozarks on the campaign trail."

"So," Jordan said slowly, "Harvey built himself a resort hotel."

"Three hotels." Sarah corrected. "Plus a bank, a newspaper and a golf course. There was also an indoor swimming pool called the 'plunge bath,' a casino, a dance pavilion, an auditorium, a bowling alley, and an outdoor amphitheater." She grinned. "As I said, not exactly your typical Ozark mountain community, especially in the early nineteen hundreds."

Jordan returned her grin. She waited, anticipating his next question. He didn't disappoint her. "What happened? Why did Monte Ne die?"

"The world intruded," Sarah said softly. "The first World War. People weren't interested or able to travel halfway across the continent just for a vacation. The railroad shut down. The bank closed. The newspaper stopped publishing. Monte Ne, at least as a national attraction, was all but dead by the end of the war." The crash on Wall Street in 1929 finished the job."

Sarah turned to face him. "And that about concludes my first hour lecture on local history," she said.

Jordan tried to remember why he was here, but the reason escaped him. All he could see was the little smile on her lips and the sadness in her eyes. All he wanted to do was chase away the shadows.

He leaned forward, pulled like a string puppet. His notebook fell unobserved to the ground. He ignored the tiny voice in the back of his mind that was registering its dissent. He paused for a moment, saw her start to protest, but it was already too late. He gave way to the incredible temptation in front of him, and with a quiet groan, lowered his head until his lips found hers.

The kiss, which began as the mere brushing of his lips against hers, captured and held Jordan with a strength that was deceptive in its gentleness. He sensed her initial shock, then the melting resistance and finally the fluttering feminine response emerging under his touch. Without conscious direction, his arms moved to pull her closer, to feel the sweet heat of her body against his, to capture and hold her elusive scent of honeysuckle.