“I think someone or something’s out here. There. Over there!” She pointed to a thicket of trees where the undergrowth was the darkest.
“Oh, for the love of God,” Shiloh muttered, kicking off her cutoff jeans and panties. They landed close enough to her T-shirt that if she had to grab them quickly, she could scoop up all of her clothes at once. Good enough if, on the off chance that Ruthie was right, there was someone hiding in the copse of saplings surrounding this lake. “It’s probably just a deer or a cougar, maybe a bear.”
Ruthie gasped. “A cougar? No, it couldn’t be a—”
Shiloh shrugged. “Then a wolf.”
Planks creaked underfoot as Ruthie backed toward the center of the dock. “Can wolves swim?”
“Stop it!” Katrina warned angrily. “Why do you do that? Huh? What’s wrong with you?” she asked, and Shiloh knew the question was aimed at her.
She didn’t answer. Girls like Katrina and Ruthie didn’t have a clue about the hot mess that was Shiloh’s life; they didn’t understand how living at home was far scarier than anything these woods could hide.
With a little less anger, Kat said, “Don’t mess with her. It’s her first time. She’s not used to disobeying her parents.”
Shiloh snorted to herself. Like Ruthie was some fragile china doll. But there was no talking Katrina down when she found a cause to get behind, and right now, Ruthie-damned-McFerron was her cause du jour.
Rebuked, Shiloh decided not to wait. Sucking in her breath, she made a shallow dive into the icy water. She barely made a splash in the still, humid night. Grateful for the frigid grip of the lake and the silence it brought with it, she swam deep under the water as if she could get away from the sting of Katrina’s words. But the question What’s wrong with you? chased after her, echoing through her brain.
Not for the first time.
Maybe it was her needy mother and the slew of broke-ass stepfathers who always eyed Shiloh with more than a little lust. Larimer Tate was the worst of the slimy lot, a sick bastard if there ever was one.
Or maybe she’d just been born with a bad attitude. Who knew? And really, who gave a crap? She tried to ignore Kat’s question, attempted to shrug it off, as she did with anyone’s criticism, be it constructive or not, but the words burrowed deep in her brain: What’s wrong with you?
Nothing! She let a few bubbles escape from the sides of her mouth, and they rose around her, catching the moon’s reflection in the inky depths. Really, it was all Ruthie’s fault. Not hers.
Skimming along the bottom, she wondered why she’d ever allowed Ruthie to come anyway. The girl was the daughter of a minister, one of those fire-and-brimstone types who were always condemning sinners to hell. Shiloh had known sneaking Ruthie out and heading here to go skinny dipping was asking, no, make that begging, for trouble, but Katrina seemed hell-bent on making friends with wimpy Ruthie.
For the life of her, Shiloh didn’t understand why, but she sure wasn’t surprised that the girl was jumping at shadows. Well, fine. Katrina had wanted Ruthie to come along, so now she could deal with the girl and her case of nerves. Served them both right.
Her lungs started to ache, and she shot upward to the surface, tossing her hair from her face. Treading water, she observed the moonlight shining through the trees to show in stippled lines upon the lake’s dark surface. Ripples moved around her as she turned onto her back, her bare breasts exposed. At least her muscles were finally relaxing after a day filled with dust and chaff from bucking hay and training a particularly stubborn colt. She enjoyed the horses, hated hauling the scratchy bales into the barn, detested working with her useless stepfather, though. What a douche.
Ruthie and Katrina were still on the dock, where they were finally removing their clothes. About damned time. Katrina was probably having to convince the younger girl that being naked was okay. What a head case!
She turned again, and from the corner of her eye, she thought she saw movement, just the barest alteration of the shadows in the foliage flanking the lake. Her muscles tensed as she blinked away the drops of water clinging to her lashes. Telling herself that they’d distorted her vision, she focused hard but saw nothing she shouldn’t. She gave herself a quick mental shake. Ruthie’s overactive imagination was infecting her. That was all.
Damn. Shiloh had come here all summer long and never once seen or heard anyone. Nothing had changed when Katrina, thinking a swim sounded good after a greasy, smoky shift washing dishes at Big Bart’s Buffalo Lounge, had started tagging along. So why would that all change. Because of Ruthie?
It’s nothing. With a kick, she turned over and dove deep again, but the eerie sensation chased after her into the murky depths.
*
“Shiloh?” Ruthie McFerron called nervously.
“She’s fine.” Katrina couldn’t keep the irritation from her voice as she peeled off her tank top. Shiloh could be such a bitch, a hothead who was always barreling through life and damning the consequences.
Well, fine. Let her swim off alone. Cool her jets. Katrina could deal with Ruthie. “Don’t worry about her. She talks before she thinks.” Standing near the edge of the water, Katrina tightened the band pulling her hair away from her face and noticed that the greasy smells from the fryer at Big Bart’s still clung to her.
She glanced at her friend. Ruthie was having one helluva time taking off her clothes. Katrina unhooked her bra and tossed it onto the small heap where she’d kicked off her flip-flops. Then she dropped her shorts and panties in one fell swoop. “Come on,” she said to her newfound friend.
Anxiously eyeing the surroundings, Ruthie was carefully undressing, even bothering to fold her skirt and sleeveless blouse over her sandals. “I don’t know about this,” she whispered but managed to take off her bra and tuck it under her blouse.
“You wanted to come,” Katrina reminded her. The truth was that Ruthie had practically begged Katrina earlier in the day when the preacher’s daughter had come into the diner for an iced mocha and had overheard that Kat was meeting Shiloh for a midnight swim.
“I know, but . . .” Ruthie held her hands over her breasts. “But it’s all kind of weird, and I swear I saw something. I mean, Shiloh, she was just joking about cougars and wolves and all that. Right?”
“Of course she was,” Katrina said tautly. But she slid another look into the fringe of trees surrounding the lake. There was something off tonight, a little bit of electricity in the air she couldn’t explain. Or maybe Ruthie’s case of nerves was just making her edgy.