The Notebook (The Notebook #1)(12)

“No, that sounds fine.”

He smiled and pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. “Great. They’re at the dock. I’ll just be a couple of minutes.”

Allie watched him walk away and noticed the tension she’d felt when telling him about her engagement was beginning to fade. Closing her eyes, she ran her hands through her hair and let the light breeze fan her cheek. She took a deep breath and held it for a moment, feeling the muscles in her shoulders further relax as she exhaled. Finally, opening her eyes, she stared at the beauty that surrounded her.

She always loved evenings like this, evenings where the faint aroma of autumn leaves rode on the backs of soft southern winds. She loved the trees and the sounds they made. Listening to them helped her relax even more. After a moment, she turned toward Noah and looked at him almost as a stranger might.

God, he looked good. Even after all this time. She watched him as he reached for a rope that hung in the water. He began to pull it, and despite the darkening sky, she saw the muscles in his arm flex as he lifted the cage from the water. He let it hang over the river for a moment and shook it, letting most of the water escape. After setting the trap on the dock, he opened it and began to remove the crabs one by one, placing them into a bucket.

She started walking toward him then, listening to the crickets chirp, and remembered a lesson from childhood. She counted the number of chirps in a minute and added twenty-nine. Sixty-seven degrees, she thought as she smiled to herself. She didn’t know if it was accurate, but it felt about right.

As she walked, she looked around and realized she had forgotten how fresh and beautiful everything seemed here. Over her shoulder, she saw the house in the distance. He had left a couple of lights on, and it seemed to be the only house around. At least the only one with electricity. Out here, outside the town limits, nothing was certain. Thousands of country homes still lacked the luxury of indoor lighting.

She stepped on the dock and it creaked under her foot. The sound reminded her of a rusty squeeze-box, and Noah glanced up and winked, then went back to checking the crabs, making sure they were the right size. She walked to the rocker that sat on the dock and touched it, running her hand along the back. She could picture him sitting in it, fishing, thinking, reading. It was old and weather-beaten, rough feeling. She wondered how much time he spent here alone, and she wondered about his thoughts at times like those.

“It was my daddy’s chair,” he said, not looking up, and she nodded. She saw bats in the sky, and frogs had joined the crickets in their evening harmony.

She walked to the other side of the dock, feeling a sense of closure. A compulsion had driven her here, and for the first time in three weeks the feeling was gone. She’d somehow needed Noah to know about her engagement, to understand, to accept it—she was sure of that now—and while thinking of him, she was reminded of something they’d shared from the summer they were together. With head down, she paced around slowly, looking for it until she found it—the carving. Noah loves Allie, in a heart. Carved into the dock a few days before she’d left.

A breeze broke the stillness and chilled her, making her cross her arms. She stood that way, alternately looking down at the carving and then toward the river, until she heard him reach her side. She could feel his closeness, his warmth, as she spoke.

“It’s so peaceful here,” she said, her voice dreamlike.

“I know. I come down here a lot now just to be close to the water. It makes me feel good.”

“I would, too, if I were you.”

“Come on, let’s go. The mosquitoes are getting vicious, and I’m starved.”

The sky had turned black, and Noah started toward the house, Allie right beside him. In the silence her mind wandered, and she felt a little light-headed as she walked along the path. She wondered what he was thinking about her being here and wasn’t exactly sure if she knew herself. When they reached the house a couple of minutes later, Clem greeted them with a wet nose in the wrong place. Noah motioned her away, and she left with her tail between her legs.

He pointed to her car. “Did you leave anything in there that you need to get out?”

“No, I got in earlier and unpacked already.” Her voice sounded different to her, as if the years had suddenly been undone.

“Good enough,” he said as he reached the back porch and started up the steps. He set the bucket by the door, then led the way inside, heading toward the kitchen. It was on the immediate right, large and smelling of new wood. The cabinets had been done in oak, as was the floor, and the windows were large and faced east, allowing the light from morning sun. It was a tasteful restoration, not overdone as was common when homes like this were rebuilt.

“Do you mind if I look around?”

“No, go ahead. I did some shopping earlier, and I still have to put the groceries away.”

Their eyes met for a second, and Allie knew as she turned that he continued to watch her as she left the room. Inside she felt that little twitch again.

She toured the house for the next few minutes, walking through the rooms, noticing how wonderful it looked. By the time she’d finished, it was hard to remember how run-down it had been. She came down the stairs, turned toward the kitchen, and saw his profile. For a second he looked like a young man of seventeen again, and it made her pause a split second before going on. Damn, she thought, get a hold of yourself. Remember that you’re engaged now.