Entranced: Chapter 1

The sound of rushing water spread through the craggy hills as the narrow river coursed steadily over the silt, gravel, and rocks that made up the Ilyian River. For only a short distance around the river, green meadows covered in tall grass could be seen tucked between hills. A bit of heather and short bushy trees edged the banks, spreading their roots wide over the shallow dirt in an effort to absorb more water and sun.

"I'll race you to the river!" a soft feminine voice cut through the warm Irish breeze. A loud splash interrupted the peaceful babbling of water as the intruder jumped head-first into the cool surface. Mere moments later, a second splash cut through the air.

A dark black head popped out of the crystal clear water, followed by a pair of azure-colored eyes. "I beat you!" Clare giggled. Joy diffused throughout her body, energizing her from the top of her head down to the tips of her toes. Swimming was one of her absolute favorite summer activities; winning the race to the water was only a perk.

"You won because you cheated," Damon accused, surfacing from the water a few meters away. His face could easily be described as harsh except for the dimples that framed full firm lips and dancing green eyes that showed laughter, belying the accusation. He was never serious if he didn't have to be.

Damon raised his head and shook off the excess water, causing his short locks to wave wildly. His long, boyishly muscular arms reached out to splash water toward Clare playfully, showing off abnormally broad shoulders for one so young. Rivulets of water cascaded down Clare's face and stuck to her long sooty eyelashes like morning dew on delicate grass. She retaliated, throwing her own sprays of water back at Damon. The next several minutes consisted of laughter and sprays of water launching from every direction. After this grew tiring, the two of them settled down and started diving beneath the surface. The afternoon passed quickly while they took advantage of the coolness of the water and lazy, summer day.

"Damon, look what I found!" Clare shouted. She had climbed out of the water and now leaned dangerously over the riverbank. Her eyes focused on a spot in the water, indicating her apparent interest in its contents.

Damon cast a casual glance toward Clare. With her waist-length hair dangling precariously over the water, he decided she looked particularly impish today. He chuckled to himself. Somehow, Clare always managed to make even the most dull of summer days interesting. He recalled her rescue of a kitten several years ago. She had actually climbed a tree wearing a party dress in order to rescue it, getting snags and dirt all in her dress and stockings. To her father's dismay, she had brought the thing home and still had it to this day--it was probably the most spoiled cat in all of Ireland.

"What is it, Clare?" Damon asked in response, peering toward Clare's chosen spot in the water. He headed toward the bank of the river and climbed up the side, moving next to where Clare sat under the tree.  Clare glanced up at Damon. He was tall, standing about 2 heads taller than her and she had to squint her eyes to see him clearly. The sun beaming brightly in the sky gave him a dramatic appearance when contrasted with the shadows from the trees that hung low over the water.

"Look," she said. "I think there's something metal in the bottom there but it's hard to see in the shadows."

It wasn't surprising that Clare had found something, considering her curious nature. She saw things that other people didn't see. It was one of the things he appreciated about her.  A prick of curiosity stirred in Damon's mind as he peered into the water. It was a clear crystal color giving him an opportunity to see the bottom with ease. Sure enough, a tiny glint of something could barely be made out in the water. Whatever it was must've been a good meter below the surface and covered up with sand and rocks.

"I think I can get it," Clare said, "but I need a stick to help dig it out." She paused as her eyes searched the area beneath the tree. "Do you see any big sticks?"

"Here, use this." Damon smiled to himself at Clare's apparent excitement as he handed her a gnarled stick with a crooked tip. Her excitement lit up her eyes, making her face appear almost pixie-ish. Concentration ebbed into her features as she lay her body down on the ground and reached into the water.

Damon watched Clare digging below the water's surface. Water dripped off her plain white T-shirt and knee-length cotton shorts while clinging to the curves of her 16-year-old body. He felt almost shy looking at her. It had been a long time since they had been swimming together and seeing her body so openly displayed felt awkward. As small children, he had never even noticed that they didn't look the same. It seemed like only yesterday they were running around in the land of the oblivious, although Damon suspected Clare still resided there.

Clare had never been like other girls he knew. She had never cared about what people thought of her, how she looked, or what she did. The very nature of their friendship was uncharacteristic. It was unusual for a girl in their neighborhood to keep such a close friendship with a boy for so long, but she didn't concern herself with what she considered ridiculous codes of conduct either. Even though they were older and their ages so close, Clare seemed more like a sister to him than his own sister. He had always been there looking out for her. The first time he met her, he had found his cruel and petty sister making her a target of hatred and malice for no good reason and he had felt sorry for her.

Damon's pity changed almost instantly when he saw traces of Clare's deep well of kindness. Her consideration for animals and people was always at the forefront of her mind, sometimes even at her own expense. One memory of particular fondness was a day when Damon was 13 and had been in trouble from his parents. He admitted in retrospect that he had been wrong about lying to his parents. His punishment that night had been to go to bed without dinner. What his parents didn't know and he'd been too stubborn to admit to them was that he'd missed lunch that day as well. Clare had come to him after supper to check on him. He'd already been in his room, having gone to bed early for the other half of his punishment. When he'd told her what had happened, Clare instantly felt guilty because he'd lied to his parents to cover up the fact that he'd been helping Clare find out about relatives she might have living nearby. However, his parents had told him to stop hanging around her so much. With Damon as their first and only son, they worried that he would do something foolish hanging around with a girl all the time. They later realized that they had worried for nothing, seeing Damon and Clare's friendship for what it truly was, and let it go. Nevertheless, that night, Clare snuck out of her father's house with a plate of food to alleviate his hunger when she herself risked getting punished for sneaking out after dark. It was a kindness that he would never forget. After all, when you're a 13-year-old boy, food is never far from your mind.

Damon brought his attention back to the present. After only a few moments, Clare apparently met with success as a triumphant look replaced the serene concentration. She pulled up a what looked like a ring but was so dirt-encrusted, it was difficult to tell for sure.

As Clare brought the ring up out of the water, her hand felt warm where it touched the ring. Through the dirt, the ring gave off a brief ephemeral glow, almost indiscernible, then it was gone. She shook her head briefly, as if to clear her head from confusion, then looked toward Damon. After a quick glance confirmed he hadn't seen it, she decided she must've imagined it.

"Wow, look at that," Damon said in awe. Eager to see what it looked like underneath all the dirt, he found a smaller stick and handed it to Clare.

Clare gave Damon a sideways glance, raising one eyebrow in mock concern. "You know, for a boy, you have a lot of interest in this ring," she declared with a hint of laughter in her voice. They had such an easy friendship, it only felt natural to her to tease him at every opportunity.

Damon smiled. "And you look an awful lot like overgrown seaweed," he countered, eyeing her tangled tresses. "Besides, that ring could have belonged to someone in my family. The James family has lived on this land for generations." Clare started examining the ring again and scraping dirt from the inside and outside of the ring. After most of the dirt had been cleared, the ring appeared to be gold, with a pair of hands holding onto a tiny heart-shaped emerald in the center. The craftsmanship was extraordinary, even to Clare's untrained eye.

"I don't see any names engraved on it. Do you think some ancestor really could have lost this and no one in your family would have heard about it? Who loses rings with emeralds in them and forgets about it?" Clare questioned aloud. She couldn't imagine somebody having lost something so valuable, something that probably meant something to whomever it belonged. She looked thoughtful for a moment, finally deciding he could be right. "Maybe you can ask your family about it later," she said at last, handing the ring to Damon. As he took the ring and put it safely in his pocket, Clare smiled mischievously. "Let's go see who can hold their breath the longest." With that, she dove neatly off the bank and into the gently babbling water, her long hair cascading behind her like a frame. Damon shook his head softly and dove in after her.

A gentle breeze stirred in the wind and the birds twittered softly as Clare and Damon each enjoyed their final swim for the day. They both knew that it was almost time to head home as the sun started its descent toward the western horizon. As Damon closed his eyes to soak up the warmth of the sun, Clare realized she felt at home with him.

Damon had been her best friend almost as long as she could remember. Her first memories of him had been of visiting his family's home as a small child, when she was no more than six years old. Although his mom and dad had been very kind to her with her mother's death from pneumonia, their good intention of trying to inspire a friendship between herself and their youngest daughter, Clarissa, had been a lost cause. She was mean-spirited and had nothing at all in common with Clare. In fact, a great deal of the time Clare had spent there had been in avoidance of Clarissa's cruel and mocking laughter which she loved to aim directly at Clare.

Damon, in direct opposition of his sister, had been her savior. Clarissa's seventh birthday party was an escapade Clare only dared to remember because it was where her friendship with Damon began. It was also a shining example of Clarissa's true nature. With a party full of children of all ages from everywhere, Clare had forgotten about the responsibilities that came with wearing a dress and tried to save a kitten that somehow managed to get stuck in a tree. When Clarissa noticed the holes and dirt smudges Clare sported, she alerted everyone at the party that Clare was nothing but an embarrassment and that she didn't deserve to have any friends. She had never forgotten how small she felt as all the girls at the party condemned her to her fate as a tomboy. To this day, she hadn't lived it down. Fortunately, however, Damon had been the one to rescue her as she tried to run away to hide in the garden--their friendship had been instantaneous. Together they had hatched a plan to get her back, at her own party, no less! She still giggled at the shocked look on Clarissa's face and the ensuing screech as she began to drink from a glass filled with fruit punch and frog.

From that day on, Damon and Clare had been the best of friends, her fate as a tomboy be damned.Throughout the years, they had been through some tough spots. One of them had been her mother's death. Although Clare had her father, it was Clare's friendship with Damon that had truly enabled her to overcome her grief and to move on--her father had been too deep in his own grief to recognize his daughter's missing exuberance. On her mother's birthday the first year after she had been gone, Damon had gone to Clare's house to awaken her, climbing up a tree outside her window. Together they had sneaked off to the river and scattered flowers in the water, a silent remembrance of her mother. After that, she had been able to remember her without the overwhelming sadness.

With all those memories behind them, Clare couldn't imagine a day without Damon. She glanced at him sideways and smiled deviously as a thread of mischief formed inside her mind. If there had been any onlookers, they would surely have seen the wheels turning through the dark blue windows of her eyes. As it was, however, Damon looked to be deep in thought, or maybe sleeping. It would be a very good time for a surprise, she mused, hoping her plot would liven him up a little.

Clare made her way to a branch that hung low over the river. Hanging on tightly with her legs, she swung the top of her body down, dangling like an opossum. To Clare's advantage, Damon just happened to be facing the opposite direction. She reached her pale arms down over his eyes. "Gotcha!" she cried.

Damon jumped in surprise, his green eyes widening slightly, but recovered quickly as he planned to retaliate. Seizing his opportunity to get her back, he grabbed her arms and pulled gently, hoping she had only a moderate grip on the tree branch.

Both of them were surprised, however, as a slight cracking sound interrupted the soft gushing sound of the river. Clare screamed as adrenaline surged through her limbs. Fear gripped her as she tried to disentangle her legs from the falling tree branch but was unable to fight both gravity and her loss of balance all at the same time. This was certainly not the way she planned it!

Damon had a good grip on Clare's arms, but he still felt a small flood of fear coursing through his veins. The river's water ran slowly through this part of the river, but just around the bend, the river joined with another that ran swiftly with strong currents that had been known to drag people under and not release them until their life had slipped away. A loud splash resounded through the air as the large limb dropped into the water.

"Put your arms around my neck, Clare," Damon commanded, his voice rough with fear. Clare obeyed and slowly weaved her arms around his neck, holding on as tightly as she could manage. His body felt warm in comparison to her own panic-chilled body. Damon worked as rapidly and efficiently as his deft fingers would allow him. As the low roar of the river that lay around the bend got louder and louder, he knew he had to work fast. Fear clawed its icy way into his chest causing it to burn. Even though Clare was holding on tightly it wouldn't matter if they were pulled into the current. It was strong enough to pull them both under before ripping them apart, or even dashing them into unknown rocks that littered the bottom. Cold water splashed against Damon's face but he couldn't feel anything outside his fear and determination.

One meter further downstream, then another two... Damon lost his foothold on the bottom of the river and he could feel the water pulling and tugging at them. The low roar of the approaching river gradually became louder making it more difficult for them to hear one another. They were almost at the bend. Clare's legs were free now, leaving only a snag at the bottom part of her cotton shorts. They were too deep, however, for Damon to work the snag out and the current was starting to pull them under.

"Hold your breath, Clare," he directed, whispering into her ear. "When I count to three, I want you to hold your breath and open your eyes. Can you do that?" Clare felt his deep voice reverberating against the side of her face. Her trust in him was absolute and she nodded her head in agreement. Damon felt her response and gave a small sigh of relief that she hadn't started panicking yet.

"Alright. One... two... three." A small splash indicated their descent below the surface.

Underneath the water, Clare opened her eyes, searching for Damon. Her blue eyes met his green ones and a surge of relief poured through her, even though she could still feel her arms wrapped around his neck. Feeling more confident now, she glanced quickly at the place where the limb was twirling in the water, tugging at the snag in her shorts. She let go of Damon's neck and grabbed the branch, jerking at the snag. The branch let go, but at that very same moment, Clare felt herself getting pulled into the bend of the river, straight into a whirlpool of water. It was ice cold and ripped at her body like tiny shards of glass. She was a good swimmer, but panic struck. Suddenly she felt claustrophobic, as if the world were closing in on her in a clear sky-blue watery haze. She kicked her legs hard and flapped her arms, fighting to get back to the surface, but her hair floated out in front of her. It blocked her view and made her lose her orientation so that she couldn't remember which way was up or down. No matter how hard she tried to push toward the surface, she felt trapped. As the fear diffused through her entire being, memories of her mother, her father, and her childhood with Damon flooded through her mind. Would she make it out of this river, she asked herself. She felt so tired... I'll rest for just a moment, Clare thought, as her eyes drifted closed.

Damon felt and saw Clare let go of him all at once and knew it was a mistake. He reached his arms out to try to grab her but she was snatched out of his reach. The water was pulling at him from every direction, swirling and slicing like a knife, but all thoughts for himself vanished in his fear for her life. He pushed himself harder through the water toward her, seeing her panic, then close her eyes. His muscles and eyes burned in the cold depths of the swift-running river. Just as he thought he may not be able to make it to her, the water spun in just the right way that it threw her now limp body into his arms. Taking the only chance he might get, he grasped her arms, pulled her close, and held her next to his body tightly with one arm, while pushing his way back to the surface with the other. His lungs started to burn from the effort and being under the water for so long but he could barely feel it.

After what felt like hours but was surely only minutes, Damon finally reached the surface of the water and paddled hard to reach the riverbank. Clare's hair swirled around her in the water like the seaweed Damon had teased her about earlier that day. It was not a comfortable comparison in retrospect. He reached the edge of the riverbank and climbed out swiftly, pulling Clare's prone body ashore and laying her down gently on the grass. He threw himself down on both knees next to her, hoping it wasn't too late, and placed his head on her chest to listen for any signs of breathing. Nothing.

"Iníon rí," Damon whispered softly in her ear. Princess. It was his special name for her. He'd called her that for so long he didn't remember where it came from anymore. "Wake up," he continued pleadingly. With his mind still half-dazed with fear, he'd forgotten entirely that he should check her pulse first but then he remembered. Feeling a faint thump at her wrist, he let out a sigh of relief and once again put his head on her chest to listen for the sound of her breathing. Still nothing.

Memories of his adventures with her throughout the years flashed through his mind. Never in his life had he been able to imagine her not being there suddenly. He had to do something, but what...? His eyebrows furrowed in thought, then he remembered that his father had made sure that everyone in their family knew how to perform CPR. Surely this couldn't be much different than practicing on a doll, he thought to himself, and it was certainly better than losing Clare. Damon's hair danced in the breeze as he bent over her body. He allowed himself a moment to look at her so still and silent, her face absent of the mischief and kindness that was usually there, before steeling himself to do what he knew he had to do. It was one thing to practice putting your mouth on your sister's silly dolls and another thing entirely to put your mouth on your best friend's in order to save her life. Damon closed his eyes and breathed a quick silent prayer before opening his eyes again and lowering his mouth to Clare's. He pinched her nose lightly and lifted her neck just so, making it easier for air to get in and out. Then he carefully pushed her lips slightly apart and pressed his mouth down on hers, blowing air into her body. He lifted his head for a moment and paused, waiting to see if anything would happen. Nothing. Fear curled in his stomach like a ball of fire, making his arms unsteady as he reached toward her a second time. He paused again but this time he was met with success.

Clare sputtered and coughed, feeling tiny droplets of water in places they probably shouldn't be. At first she was confused... trying to remember where she was. Then she remembered she'd gone swimming with Damon. She smiled weakly as she saw him sitting in front of her, his eyes looked darker than usual though. It was funny that she'd never noticed how beautiful they were before or that they changed color. The sky behind him was slowly starting to turn a hazy pink, but the expression in his green-turned-hazel eyes held her. Then she remembered she'd almost drowned and she frowned for a moment, her blue eyes dimming a bit. She could see Damon's eyes watching her carefully. As he realized she was awake, his eyes grew wide with some unknown expression. Her mind wasn't working quickly enough she thought. He just saved me, didn't he, she questioned inwardly, wondrous.

As soon as Damon heard Clare coughing and sputtering, he felt the icy fear that had gripped him melt away. He started to reach for her to pull her into a bone-crushing embrace, but thought better of it when he saw her confusion-clouded eyes. She still looked a bit dazed. He felt like grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her for giving him such a scare, but instead he bent over and ran his hands over her forehead, smoothing back her hair. She felt cold but she was alive.

"Iníon rí, you're okay," he said softly, his voice filled with a sense of awe. "I don't know what I would have done if you'd--" He broke off, unable to complete the unbearable thought. In her weakened state, she looked so fragile. He pulled her to his chest, cradling her head against his shoulder and letting her body regain its warmth.

Clare could feel Damon's warm chest against her cold body. After all their time spent together, she had never noticed how strong he was. It made her feel strangely warm inside. He had saved her life and she wasn't altogether sure how she should react, especially since she couldn't quite think straight. Even though her head felt thick, Clare could feel a well of emotion building inside her chest at the unexpected tenderness Damon was showing her. It swelled into a ball and threatened to push its way past her chest and all the way up to the corners of her eyes. She couldn't recall feeling anything like this before but hated the way it made her feel weak. Despite her dislike for tears, however, she cried to release all the things she felt but couldn't express.

Damon could feel Clare crying softly against his shoulder. "You're okay," he whispered over and over, knowing it must've shaken her a great deal for her to come to tears. So he sat there holding her and running his hands through the length of her hair and down her back.

The breeze blew gently over them, getting a bit cooler with the lateness of the day. With all her tears spent, Clare lifted her head and looked Damon in the eyes. He'd always been like a big brother to her but something changed between them today that could never be changed back. A bit of sadness touched her at that thought. She wanted to ask Damon if he could feel it too but she let the moment pass, kning she had to get home.

Clare stood up to leave, her hair gently waving in the air. Damon also rose. He examined her face closely, trying to read her thoughts. She seemed unsure of herself, a quality he had never seen in her before, but he also felt that way. He told himself that his discomfort came from the fact that he was still uncomfortable with her clothes clinging tightly to her body, but in the back of his mind he knew there was something else he couldn't quite grasp. Without examining the fleeting thought closer, he pushed it to the back of his mind. He noticed she also looked confused. As he shuffled his feet nervously in the knee-high grass, Clare spoke up.

"Thank you for saving my life," she said a little hoarsely. Not knowing what else to do, she offered a hug. But as their bodies came together for the embrace, Clare again felt an odd warmth diffusing through her body. It was exhilarating but also very confusing. She quickly removed her arms, feeling a shyness she had never felt before. Clare looked away, trying to look at anything besides Damon. "I should go home," she said quietly, finally settling her eyes on the trail that led home. "My father has plans for tonight and will be waiting for me."

Damon was shocked. "Are you seriously considering going out tonight after what you just went through?" he exclaimed, perhaps a bit more heated than he intended.

"I'm going because it's important to my father." She looked directly into his eyes, a silent plea masking the confusion. "Please don't tell him what happened today," she said softly.

Damon inhaled sharply, looked away for a moment, and let out a long sigh. "If that's what you want, Clare." It was against his better judgment but Clare asked for so little of him that he could deny her nothing. "I better go home as well." He stuffed his hands in his pockets. He could feel the ring Clare gave him earlier from the river and ran the cold metal through his fingers absently, wondering what had just happened.

"I'll be seeing you." Clare gave him a half smile before she turned to head down the trail of down trod grass that led to her home. Damon was still concerned about her but there was not much he could do besides let her go home to rest. He watched her gently swaying gait with unsteady breath until she disappeared around the curve of the grassy hill. Then, he too left the river's edge, hearing the deceptively soft murmuring fade into silence behind him.

                @~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@

Clare watched her father ring the doorbell. He hardly ever dressed up, but tonight he looked splendid in his new Navy blue suit though the sadness in his eyes that had been there since Clare's mother died could never be diminished. It gave his face a haunted look despite the crinkles at the corners of his eyes and the slight dimples that hinted at years of laughter. His black hair had faded over time to become a salt and pepper gray and had been combed neatly to the side for tonight's occasion. Midsummer's Day was a very special holiday for her father and they always went out to some festivity for it every year. This year they were attending the party of a close friend of her father's, a lawyer, who invited many families from around the area to join in the festivities.

"You look lovely." Jacob gave his daughter a weak smile. "Just like your mother, you know." It was hard for Jacob to reconcile his daughter as the young lady she appeared tonight. Her hair had been pulled up at the sides with combs studded in blue gems that matched the color of her eyes. Her royal blue gown fell gently to her knees and hugged her waist, giving her a soft feminine appearance. How quickly she had grown up! Her mother, Jane, would have been so proud. "You give an old man something to smile about," he said in a thick voice as he reached his large arm around her shoulder to give her a quick squeeze.

Clare smiled back at her father, happy to have pleased him, even though she resented having to wear a blasted dress. As they waited for someone to answer the door, Clare's mind drifted back to her afternoon on the riverbank. What exactly happened seemed a little bit hazy but she could almost swear that she had seen something in Damon's eyes that she had never seen before. The water should have scared her, having almost drown in it, but that wasn't what held her attention. What kept replaying in her mind was how Damon had held her after he'd pulled her out of the water. They'd hugged many times over the years, as best friends usually do, but this time it felt...different and unlike anything she'd ever experienced before.

The door sprang open suddenly jarring Clare from her thoughts. "Jacob!" a man called from the doorway, familiarity lending a jovial edge to his voice. "Glad you could make it!" A shock of red hair poked out the solid wooden doorway as its owner invited them into the house.

Clare placidly entered the house behind her father. Normally she would be eager to ask questions about everything, especially since she'd never been here before but she felt tired from her afternoon escapade and remained silent. She did look around at the house with her usual curiosity however. The house was large with high ceilings and a long hallway that stretched before them. As the man's voice continued to give them the verbal tour, she peeked into a large room  from the hall. A large crystal chandelier twinkled delightfully. Obviously her father's friend spared no expense in his house. As they walked past the rooms, Clare noted how meticulously clean it looked. Nearly bare walls were decorated sporadically with small pictures of the great Irish landscapes, as well as far off places that were unfamiliar to her.

Clare wasn't surprised when the tour ended at the entrance to an extremely elaborate garden that must have cost a fortune in landscaping. It was rare for these festivities to be held indoors as they tended to get a bit rowdy with all the celebrating and the great outdoors usually accommodated more people. She also knew there would be singing and dancing--it was just part of the tradition. Some people paid large sums of money for professionals to do this but most people preferred to make their own merriment. With the large kegs of whiskey and rum, not to mention the heavily doctored cakes, that usually accompanied the singing and dancing, the only thing guaranteed was that everybody would have a good time.

"I believe that's your friend, Lissy, waving at us, isn't it?" Clare's father gestured toward a table full of sweets and punch. Off in the distance, a red-haired girl stood holding a punch glass and waving daintily. That was Lissy alright, Clare noted with a smile. She was a terrible flirt. She already had two guys standing at her elbows, waiting to fetch her something at her whim. And from the looks of it, there'd be a fight between them before the night was over. "Go on over and talk to your friends. You don't have to worry about me, alright? I'll be arguing over politics with James here." Her dad smiled weakly, while motioning her over with his hand.

As Clare headed toward the punch table, Jane, yet another friend, ran to catch up with her. "Fancy seeing you here," she called. Clare turned to glance at her friend of 3 years and, as she turned, Jane let out an audible gasp. "Oh, my, you look gorgeous!" Coming from Jane, who was the most critical judge of fashion in their tiny little town, it was truly a compliment. Clare felt lucky to have her as a friend considering the many trials she'd had with some girls growing up. Jane had been just one friend that she'd made since she'd started attending a traditional Irish dance class. The friendships she'd made there had been invaluable to her but despite her new circle of friends, none of them were her best friend.

Clare brought her attention back to her friend and gave a sheepish smile. She was unacustomed to compliments but muttered a quick "thanks" anyway.

"Oh, and look at what Lissy is wearing...no wonder those guys are following her around like puppies." Jane's blond chin-length hair slapped at her cheeks as she shook her head in disapproval. Lissy was wearing a red dress that appeared to cover everything properly, except it looked as if it were one size too small which, for someone of Lissy's 'virtues', would certainly grab attention.

As Jane and Clare navigated their way through the maze of people, Lissy turned her green eyes to both of them and, after handing her drink to the guy nearest to her, encircled them both in a huge, flamboyant hug. "It's so wonderful to see you again! I swear, this summer has absolutely flown by. And without so much as a peep out of either of you." Lissy poked her bottom lip out in a faux pout. Among the three of them, she was most certainly the drama queen. "Honey, what is that you're wearing?" she directed to Clare, eyeing her dress up and down. "This is a party, not a funeral."

"Well, not everybody can be the center of attention, can they?" Jane commented. Glancing down at her own pale pink ensemble that matched her girly personality without being over-the-top, she added,"I think the dark blue suits her well since she's not out to have every boy in town trailing her home. Much more practical for someone interested in explorations."

Lissy plastered a saucy smile on her face. "And who says I haven't had my own explorations?" Her eyebrows wiggled suggestively. Clare didn't know what specifically she was referring to but her face turned red anyway.

Jane, however, chose to ignore that comment. "Look at that! It looks like Mr. McPherson hired a band too!" As both of the other girls turned their head in the direction Jane was looking, they heard a lively tune being played on a fiddle. Three young-looking men stood in the back of the garden, facing the guests. They couldn't have been more than 23 at the oldest and they looked as if they were all brothers with the same twinkling gray eyes. They wore their shiny brown hair long and pulled back with their faces unshaved. They looked exotic, like they had just stepped out of a scene from Braveheart.

"Hellooo..." Lissy said softly, looking them over. Her two tag-alongs looked a bit put-out that they had yet more competition. Lissy was normally flirty but she was being downright audacious tonight. It must be the Midsummer's holiday. Some people's blood burned hotter on this particular holiday and apparently she was one of them.

"At least wait until the bonfire is lit," Jane added reproachfully. Clare sighed in annoyance. As much as Clare enjoyed her friend's company, she simply wasn't in the mood for their normal verbal sparring and Lissy's avid appreciation of her male counterparts. And as hard as she tried to push the afternoon's events out of her mind, they just wouldn't leave.

"You know, Lissy, men are not slabs of meat," Clare said suddenly, surprising both Lissy and Jane. A brief and awkward pause held them for a moment. Then, to Jane's delight, Lissy's cheeks turned an interesting shade of pink as she looked down but her moment of embarrassment passed as quickly as it came. Jane grinned wickedly and looked at Clare with the intention of congratulating her over her hard-won blush but she suddenly noticed that Clare didn't really look herself.

"Is something wrong?" Jane asked. "You're staring off into space. You're unusually quiet.  And you're as pale as if you've just seen a ghost." Concern over her friend took over as she rushed to Clare's side to put her arm around her. Even Lissy ran over to assist. Together, they guided Clare to a bench sitting next to a water fountain cleverly sculpted into the shape of a Roman god.

"Honey, what happened to you?" Lissy asked sincerely. Her amber-colored eyes showed genuine concern. "I've never seen you so upset."

Clare bowed her head and started fighting tears back. It was so unlike her to cry. Should she tell her friends about nearly drowning this afternoon? She hadn't even sorted out her feelings about that yet, nor did she want everybody knowing about it either. And what should she tell them about Damon's role in all this? She supposed as her friends, they deserved to know the whole truth. After a moment's contemplation, she decided to tell only the necessary parts.

"Don't tell this to anybody," Clare said, almost daring them to deny her. Without pausing, she abruptly confessed, "I almost drowned today." Both of her friends inhaled sharply.

"Oh, my gosh!" Jane exclaimed.

"What happened?" Lissy questioned.

Two pairs of eyes fixed intently on Clare. It was a bit disconcerting but perhaps telling them would make her feel less upset about what happened. Little tendrils of hair blew in front of Clare's face, tickling her nose, while her friends waited for her to gather herself enough to explain further. The air felt heavy as she inhaled deeply to calm herself, then lightly exhaled through her nose to completely relax. Clare decided to start at the beginning.

"I went to visit Damon today and we spontaneously decided to go swimming together." Clare decided to leave out the part about finding the ring. "When we were swimming, I decided to climb a tree and while I was hanging on, the limb fell off with me on it and it got caught in my clothes." She wiped absently at the tears that formed in her dark blue eyes. "But the limb got stuck in my clothes and pulled me into the fast-running water that runs next to the river. I nearly drowned but Damon saved me." She looked up at her friends now. "He saved me," she repeated, as if in awe.

"Now there's an adventure I'd like to explore," Lissy declared, being her normal self. "If only someone weren't so possessive about him," she added as an afterthought.

Jane glared at Lissy but refrained from sharing her thoughts on that comment. There was no need to say something that might upset Clare more and she'd obviously been through a lot today.

"Don't tell anyone I told you this, okay?" Clare asked again, somewhat pleadingly. "If my dad found out, he probably wouldn't let me out of the house until I turned 25." She shivered at that thought. Her dad was great but he had old-fashioned ideas about what was proper and what wasn't. Clare would prefer not to find out the depths of that well.

Jane nodded and patted Clare's hand, clearly knowing that she needed that one small reassurance.

"Speak of the devil," Lissy said, looking toward another section of the garden. She tossed her long red hair over her shoulder and smiled neatly, showing off a mouth full of pure white shiny teeth behind glossy red lips. She looked very beautiful, Clare thought ruefully. Not that she envied her but her manner was easy around both sexes. Clare supposed it was merely her confidence she envied.

Clare and Jane turned in the direction of Lissy's gaze. Damon stood at the back door, scanning the crowd as if he were looking for something...or someone. His sleek black hair had been combed back into soft waves with the longest part brushing the collar of his dark blue shirt that had been left open at the neck, either in carelessness or a deliberate attempt to look more casual. Denim accompanied his dress blouse better, especially since they fit so nicely. Clare didn't think that Damon could see her, but within a few minutes of scanning, his eyes stopped right  on her. Even across the garden from each other as they were, Clare could feel his eyes on her, like feeling the sun's rays touching your skin. If it stayed there too long, you'd get burned. It was the first time in her life, she'd felt the urge to run and hide from Damon. As Damon's eyes met hers, he started walking toward her. A small frission of panic touched her heart, not knowing what to expect after their awkward afternoon.

Jane looked at Clare, a question in her eyes, but Clare didn't really know how to answer, so Jane answered for her. "You know, I think you and Damon have something you should talk about."

Clare looked down at her hands played with an imaginary piece of lint. "But what do you say to someone who's saved your life? 'Thank you' feels more like an understatement." And how do you ask your best friend if they feel like something has changed, she thought silently.

Lissy had to share her opinion, too. "If it were me, I'd offer them a kiss. But I know you don't enjoy those kind of adventures," she said, emphasizing 'those' as if it were something extraordinary. "I think a 'thank you' would be acknowledged, but  you should definately talk though." She paused thoughtfully,"And if you don't want to talk to him, you can let me talk to him." Lissy winked.

"He obviously wants to talk to you," Jane said matter-of-factly as she watched Damon walking through the crowds, stopping occasionally to talk to people who greeted him along the way. Her sky-blue eyes still had a motherly-looking concern in them as she continued. "He's been your best friend for a long time so I don't think you have to worry about how to thank him for saving your life." Jane wasn't being crass in saying that, she was merely being honest. For some reason, it had never bothered either her or Lissy that Damon was Clare's best friend instead of them.

Clare was certain her friends meant well but they didn't understand. It was a scary idea to be in such foreign territory with someone she'd never felt uncomfortable around. She knew they were right though. She looked up and took a deep breath, knowing Damon was almost there. She caught Jane giving Lissy a silent plea to leave Clare here so Damon could speak with her. Lissy seemed disappointed but for the benefit of her friend, accepted with ease.

"We're going to have some more punch and talk with the band before the bonfires are lit," Jane told Clare as she pushed her arm through Lissy's and pulled her away from Clare. Clare nodded without really paying attention as her friends wandered off. Although she was fully aware of her surroundings, she looked down at the ground to wait for Damon to arrive.