Willow Smoke (45 page)

She
liked
having
Nicholas
Underwood
for
a
lover.
Not
just
as
a
teacher,
but
for
a
lover.
Daisy
compressed
her
lips.
That
acknowledgement
was
a
huge,
dangerous
step.
But
she’d
taken
it
with
her
eyes open.
She
hoped
her
heart
would
survive.

“So
how’s
your
first
love
doing?
I
saw
you
playing
with
those
lead
strips
again.”

“Playing.
I’ll
have
you
know
that’s
serious
business.”
Grinning,
Nick
rubbed
his
cheek
against
her
ear.
“By
the
time
we’re
done,
I’ll
know
precisely
what
we’ll
have
to
change to get it just right.”

“And
a
Paddle
Dreams
Unlimited
canoe
has
to
be
just
right.”
Daisy
leaned
back
into
Nick
resting
her
hands
on
his
rear.
“You
certainly
have
high
standards.”

“Yes, I do. And that
goes for my women,
too.”
He
ran
his
tongue
over
her
earlobe.

Daisy
shuddered.
Was
it
caused
by
the
wind
that
had
suddenly
quickened,
by
his
tongue
working
its
erotic
magic
on
her
ear,
or by his words? High standards. If he
only
knew.

“So
do
we
paddle
on,
or
do
we
stay
camped
here?”
she
asked,
wanting
to
be
practical.

“Why
don’t
we
spend
another
night
here?
There’s
no
hurry.
That’ll
give
us
time
to catch supper. I’d just as soon not do
freeze-dried
again.
We
should
supplement
our
supplies.”

“Sounds
good
to
me.”
Daisy
broke
their
embrace
and
started
to
walk
back
toward
camp. “You have to catch the fish. So far
I can’t even get the line out over ten feet.”

“You only tried it for
the first time
yesterday.
It
takes
a
while
to
develop
a
knack
for
casting,”
Nick
said,
matching
her
stride.

“Good
thing
you
have
quick
reflexes
and
ducked
yesterday,
or
I
could
be
minus
a
guide.”

“I’ve
been
hooked
before.
It’s
painful,
but
I
survived.”

Daisy
glanced
warily
at
him.
He
maintained
a
straight
face.
There
were
still
times
when
she
wasn’t
sure
if
he
was
kidding
or
serious.
Well,
she
had
no
plans
to
hook
him,
with
a
gigantic
fishing
lure
or
with any
other
kind
of
hook.
Yesterday
was
a
near
accident,
a
mistake
that
could
have
been
a
lot
worse.
Today
she’d
be
more
careful.

Daisy
leaned
forward
over
the
front
of
the
canoe
stretching
her
back
muscles.
They’d
only
been
fishing
half
an
hour,
but
it
felt
like
four
times
that.
There
was
no
explanation
why
the
fish
liked
his
lure
better
than hers. She’d at least mastered—well, sort of mastered—getting the damn
thing
out
in
the
water.
It
still
splashed
loudly
enough
to
chase
away
anything
with
fins
within
a
hundred
yards.
Nick
said
she
might
get
a
big
Northern
angry
enough
to
attack
her
lure.
Not
likely.

Reeling
in
her
line
slowly,
Daisy
glanced
up
over
at
a
nearby
tree.
It
was
a
huge
spruce
that
probably
had
been
struck
by
lightening
more
than
once,
because
half
its branches were dead. But it wasn’t
the
branches
that
had
raised
her
heart
into
her throat.

“Is that what I think it
is?” she
whispered,
pointing
toward
the
tree.

Nick
followed
her
line
of
sight.
“Ah,
good
girl.
We’ve
been
joined
by
one
of
nature’s
best
fishers,
the
bald
eagle.
Now,
if
we
catch
a
fish
we
have
to
be
careful
and
stow
it before Mr.
Eagle wants to come and claim it.”

“You’re
kidding.
Right?”

“It’s never happened to
me, but I’ve heard such stories.”

“Yeah,
well,
people
will
say
most
anything.
Damn,
he
is
big.
Look,
here
he
comes.
He’s
huge!”
The
bird
swooped
low
over
the
water,
dropped
suddenly,
and
then
with
a
powerful
lurch
rose
from
the
water
with
a
large
fish
clasped
firmly
between
its
claws.

“Shouldn’t
have
to
worry
about
protecting
our
catch
for
a
while,”
Nick
said
dryly.
He
paused.
“Spotting
that
eagle
means
you’ve
been
blessed.”

Daisy
recast
her
silver
spinner.
“So
now
what
kind
of
story
are
you
telling
me?”

“I’m
serious,”
Nick
said,
using
a
paddle
to
reset
the
canoe
into
the
dying
wind.
“According
to
many
Native
Americans,
the eagle
is
the
most
sacred
spirit
found
in
nature.
When
eagle
appears,
it’s
a
reminder
to
move
beyond
the
shadows
of
former
lives
and
be
open
to
new
illumination.
Eagle
teaches
to
love
the
shadow
and
the
light.
If
you
can
do
that,
then
you
will
fly
freely
like
the
eagle.”

“That
sounds
like
a
lot
of
bunk...”
Daisy’s
rod
bent;
line
raced
out
of
the
reel,
making
a
shrill
hum.
“Holy
shit!”

“Set
the
hook!”
Nick
quickly
reeled
in
his
line
and
grabbed
the
net.
“Pull
back
on
the
rod
sharply.
Okay,
now
you
can
let
him
run
a
bit.”