Mia looked down at the river below her feet, searching the green pool as always for Mr. Big. She peered into the still water for a long while before she saw a dark shadow move behind a large rock. She smiled and her fingers itched for a rod. Quickly she went to fetch her fly rod, then walked down river to where Stuart stood bent at the waist with one arm on Maddie's shoulder and the other pointing to the shadowed pocket across the stream.

"Sorry to bother you, but..."

He turned his head. She couldn't see his eyes through the sunglasses but she heard the humor in his voice. "You're after Mr. Big again, are you?"

"Don't look at me like that. You wait. I'll catch him one of these days."

He straightened and said, "That's one wily trout." He studied the river; then he pulled his pack of dry flies out from a vest pocket and opened it, revealing dozens of fuzzy flies of all sizes. Maddie came closer to watch as he poked around the small compartments with his index finger, deliberating.

"Look at all those. How do you know which one to choose?" Maddie asked.

"Well, you-" he began.

Mia interrupted him. "You look at the river then you look at your flies then you poke around with your finger at the mess of flies in your pack, and then you just pick something small, brown, and fuzzy, give it a funny name like Mr. Big's Breakfast, and go for it."

Maddie burst out laughing.

Stuart lifted his sunglasses and met Mia's gaze. They shared a silent, commiserating laugh. He handed her a brown fuzzy fly.

"Here you go. Mr. Big's Breakfast."

"Thank you." She took the dry fly, then, on impulse, stretched up on tiptoe and delivered a quick but proprietary kiss on his lips. Stuart was surprised by her spontaneity. Maddie was floored. She narrowed her eyes with a look of what's going on?

"We're going downstream," Stuart told her, his eyes still smiling. "Good luck."

Less than an hour later the sky darkened and thunder rolled closer. At the first flash of lightning, the fly fishers came off the water.

"How'd you do?" Stuart asked as they were taking off their gear on the porch. The first fat drops of rain started falling, landing with splats on the dry dirt and loud taps on the roof.

"You know how I did," she replied.

He only chuckled. "Yep, that's one wily old trout."

"Well, I caught a fish!" Maddie exclaimed. She looked to Stuart for confirmation. "A brown trout, right?"

"Yes, ma'am, all fourteen inches of him."

Mia saw her sister's proud smile and knew that more than a trout got hooked that morning.

The rain came down in earnest with no sign of letting up. Stuart ducked out to give the sisters time alone before Maddie had to head back to Charleston.

"It looks like that storm cloud is just going to sit right on top of this mountain. We're socked in with fog. You'll have to stay another night," Mia told her as she put on a fresh pot of coffee.

"No, it's early yet and that storm is moving fast, heading out to sea. It'll likely keep me company for the whole damn drive home to Charleston."

"Then stay."

"Oh, honey, I wish I could. But I have two kids starting school next week and a husband who doesn't know his way around a shopping list. My kids will go wild with him at Towne Center, buying everything but what they need for school." She lifted her shoulders as though to say what more can I say? Maddie took her mug and sat on the velvet sofa. "Besides, you don't need me up here. That's pretty easy to see."

Maddie leaned back against the sofa and stretched out her legs. When comfortable, she patted the sofa beside her. "Tell mama all."

Mia added milk to her coffee, took a sip, then came around to join Maddie. She tucked her legs under her on the soft blue velvet. "First of all, we're just friends."

"Uh-huh. Do you always kiss your friends on the lips?"

A smile twitched. "I didn't say I wanted to stay friends."

"And what's to keep you from moving forward?"

"I am still married."

"Puhleeze...You're on the fast track to a divorce and your husband has already played the infidelity card. You get to pass go and collect two hundred dollars."

Mia brought her knees closer to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. "I'm scared."

Maddie's face softened with concern. "About what? The cancer?"

Mia shook her head. "No. Well, indirectly." She looked at her feet and said softly, "I'm afraid of intimacy. I'm terrified that he'll be turned off when he sees my body. Charles was. He never touched my breasts again. He could barely bring himself to look at the scar." She looked at the clouds in her coffee. "He told me he wanted to have sex with me but he just couldn't."

"That's when you might've considered couples therapy."

"I know. We should have talked openly about it, gone to therapy, something. But we didn't. I guess I just expected things to get better in time. But he found his own solution."

"The swine."

"I was devastated. Then angry, ashamed, and felt my body was unattractive to any man. Even to myself."

"And you're afraid Stuart will have the same reaction?" When Mia nodded she asked, "Does he know about the cancer?"

"He knew Casting for Recovery and figured it out. We met on the river, by accident. We became friends. Fishing buddies. We never talked about our personal lives at first. After a few weeks we moved on to talking more to this stage of, well..." She searched for a word to describe it. "Teenage bliss. We're kissing and holding hands and talking..." She blushed and put her palm to her cheek. "I'm really like a girl again. I think about him all the time. I dream of him. And his kisses, oh God, his kisses. He's world-class."

"All right, already. I get the picture." After a short laugh Maddie said sincerely, "It sounds wonderful. So what's the problem?"

Mia exhaled a long plume of air. "Me. Though he's never said so in so many words, I know he's not rushing me. He knows I'm not ready. He thinks it's because of the divorce. But it's not. Maddie, I may never be ready. I'm making friends with my body. I can look at my scar without cringing. I even pamper it with creams. But I...I don't think I could bear it if he was repulsed by it."

Maddie exhaled, then set her mug down on the table. She looked Mia squarely in the eye. "First of all, Stuart is not Charles. I've only known him for one morning and even I can see that. He deserves a chance."

Mia wrapped her arms around herself. "I don't want to risk what I already have with Stuart by wanting more."

"Honey, if it bothers you so much, why don't you have breast reconstruction? There are so many more options today than there were when Mom had her mastectomy."

"Maybe I should've done something right away. I think it was because Mom died so soon after her diagnosis that when I found out I had breast cancer it felt like a death sentence."

"I know. I was never so terrified in my life."

"I was a mess and Charles wasn't much help. He kept breaking down into tears. The last thing I wanted to think about was another surgery for reconstruction. When Dr. Fiske recommended I wait until I was ready to make a decision I went along. Plus, my insurance company wouldn't pay for it. At least now I have the money to do the surgery if I want to. I just don't know if I can face surgery and pain again."

"Sooner or later, you'll have to either accept your body the way it is or have reconstruction surgery."

Mia raked her hair with her fingers and groaned. "I still can't make up my mind."

"Do you know what confuses me about all this? You've just told me how great this new relationship with Stuart is, how you're going slow, getting to know each other. You positively glow when you talk about him. But what are you afraid of? You're afraid of how your breasts will look. Once again, you're valuing only your body."

Mia blinked slowly, listening but not comprehending.

"Do you remember a while back you told me that the old Mia was gone? That shook me up, I have to admit. Then I got to thinking about the old Mia. Honey, you were always such a perfectionist about your body. And your clothes and your hair. I used to be kind of jealous by how together you seemed. But it was a little off-putting, too. You saw yourself in The Gaze you got from men. If you gained a few pounds you'd exercise and diet until you whipped your body back into shape. That's how you valued yourself, Mia. By how you looked. It could make you brittle at times. I used to think you were just hungry." She smirked.

"Then you got sick and went into some place I couldn't follow and I worried whether I'd ever see the old Mia again. But now I'm sitting here with the new Mia. If fly-fishing did anything for you it brought you out of yourself. You're focused on improving your skill, your art, and learning the names of plants and birds. You're even focused on the story of Kate Watkins. Mia, you're not looking at yourself in the mirror for your reflection. You're looking inward now for authentic signals of who you are. I look at you and see a beautiful, strong, interesting, and creative woman. And hell, you're too young to skip sex for the rest of your life!"

"Oh, Maddie," Mia exclaimed, putting her hands to her face. "What am I going to do?"

Her older sister put her arms around her and held her tight, the way she used to do when Mia was hurt as a young girl.

"You're already doing the work. Keep going. Your instincts were right. Stay here till you find your answers. Sometimes you can overthink these things. Don't listen to what I have to say. Or even what Kate has to say. Listen to yourself, Mia. Trust that you'll know what to do when the time comes."

Chapter Seventeen.

You read the water. You study the insects. You ponder different flies. You do all this-and sometimes you find you just have to trust your intuition.

-KATE WATKINS'S FISHING DIARY.

The rain persisted through the afternoon and into the evening. Mia prowled the cabin, restless after her visit with Maddie. She missed her already and kept checking her watch, wondering if Maddie had made it home all right in the rain. Her cell phone was useless in the cabin and she couldn't climb the white rocks in the rain. After a light dinner of leftovers she went upstairs to the garret and found some comfort lying on the new bed she'd bought for her sister and read Kate's diary for the hundredth time. But she couldn't concentrate on the words. Her mind kept drifting back to her conversation with Maddie.

Mia was disturbed by her sister's honest portrayal of the pre-cancer Mia. Her sister had been nearer to the truth than she cared to admit. But Maddie had no idea what a roller coaster her body and emotions had been on. Her sister was forty-two and hadn't gone through menopause yet. Even though Mia was only thirty-eight, the chemo treatments had brought on its symptoms. She no longer felt as young and attractive as she did before the cancer. On the other hand, Maddie was right that she was too young to write off any intimacy. For a long while she'd had no interest. Now she had hope, especially lately, that her body was reawakening. When she was with Stuart her senses were heightened and her sexual desire went to hyperdrive.

That night she fell asleep upstairs, wrapped in the new crazy quilt. But her dreams were old ones, filled with searching and longing, and they had her tangled up in her sheets. Sometime before dawn she woke, groggy and thirsty. She lifted herself on her elbows and tried to sew together the elusive pieces of her dreams. Stuart was there, and Charles. She was fighting her way through thick fog, both chasing someone and being chased. She rubbed her eyes, feeling the sense of it already slipping away. The pale light of approaching dawn poured through the row of windows, coloring the wood floors pewter gray. Mia rose and made her way down the narrow stairs to the bathroom, then to her own bed.

When Mia woke later, the light at her windows was bright and she heard the chattering of birds in the trees. Yawning, she stretched, knowing without looking at a clock that it was late. She smiled as she kicked off her sheets, then lay flat on her mattress, her legs and arms spread wide while the soft morning breeze slid like water over her skin. For months after her surgery she'd felt perpetually tired. Even though she slept a lot, she never felt rested. How delicious it was to lie here feeling thoroughly refreshed, she thought. She reached up to run her hands through her hair, then let her finger slide down her neck and down her chest.

Maddie had called her beautiful, she recalled with wonder. In the light of morning, Mia believed her.

She rose, bathed, and dressed in her usual khaki shorts and cotton shirt. Then, grabbing her purse, she drove directly to Watkins Mill. She parked in front of Shaffer's and followed the scent of coffee and hot bread and chocolate into the bakery. The bell chimed but she didn't hear Becky's cheery greeting. Glancing to the back, she saw that Becky wasn't sitting in her usual spot at the post office counter.

"Hey, Katherine," she said as she came to the glass counter.

Katherine spun around from the coffee machine. "Morning, Mia," she called back with her mother's smile. "Sorry, I was fighting this damn machine."

"Where's your mom this morning?"

"She has a doctor's appointment today." Mia's face must have shown her worry because Katherine followed up with, "No need to worry. It's just the usual. But the doctor wants her to take it easier. Not push herself so hard."

"This is the first time I've walked in here and didn't hear her call out my name. Does she want visitors?"

"Maybe not today. Those appointments wear her out." Katherine's bright smile wobbled, but she rallied. "Want your usual coffee?"

"Thanks," Mia replied. She would respect Katherine's request but follow up tomorrow. She looked down through the glass at the pastries. The selection had dwindled this late in the morning but there were a few of the day's special bismarck left.

She carried her pastry and coffee to a table for her late breakfast and phone calls. She took a bite of the bismarck, licked the chocolate icing from her fingers, then checked her cell phone. Multiple voice mails awaited her.

Beep.

Hi, baby sis. Well, I'm home. I was lucky and only caught up with the storm when I hit Summerville. I had such a great time this weekend. We'll have to make a trip to the mountains a yearly event for sisterly bonding. Call me.

Beep.

Mia, this is Charles. Just checking to make sure the money transfer went through all right. Listen, we'd really like to hang on to the Pratt-Thomas marsh painting. I think it's only fair that I keep one and since we bought that one together and well, it looks so great where it is, I'd really like to have it. Let's talk.

Mia cursed under her breath. Of all the contents in the condo, including the china, crystal, and heirloom silver, she'd wanted only the paintings. She didn't think that was asking much. Art was her passion and Charles didn't know a thing about art. It wasn't like they were museum-quality paintings that were worth a fortune. Most of the paintings were done by local artists she knew and admired, so each addition to her collection was personal. That particular marsh painting depicted a moody view of the marsh at sunset and was her favorite. It was also the largest. It hung over their fireplace mantel in the living room. And he'd said "We'd like to hang on to it." Mia snorted. If Charles was going to start backpedaling on the agreed-upon divorce settlement, she'd have to get a lawyer, she thought with resignation.

Beep.

Hello, Mrs. Landan? This is Lucy Roosevelt, Mrs. Minor's granddaughter. She's feeling poorly. I don't reckon you should come by today. Is tomorrow OK?

Beep.

Morning, Mia. It's Flossie. Sorry I didn't get back to you sooner about that dinner. Why don't you come by Thursday night? About seven? I haven't forgotten about that pie, neither.

Beep.

Hi, Mia. Stuart here. I followed up with the front desk at the Manor House about seeing the murals. The couple in the room is checking out today. So if you're free sometime after three o'clock, I can bring you up for a look-see. Call me when you think you can come. Oh, and put on a pretty dress. I'd like to take you out to dinner. We have a four-star restaurant here.

She pushed save with a smile. That message brought the sun back into her day after Charles's dark cloud. Then she realized she didn't have a pretty dress up here. Glancing at her watch, she figured she'd have just enough time to buy a dress, do her errands, catch up with Nada at the Gazette, and make it to Watkins Lodge before five.

It was nearly five o'clock when Mia passed through a security gate onto the grounds of Watkins Lodge. It was an impressive country estate with a rolling green lawn, meticulously maintained with large beds of flowers. The humidity had subsided so she rolled down her windows to the sweet-scented air. She breathed deep as she drove the narrow, paved road past a medley of historic trees. At the beginning of summer she couldn't have named one. Now she identified each one she passed: beech, sugar maple, tulip poplar, hemlock, Fraser fir. She made a wide curve around a hillside, catching a glimpse of water. Then suddenly before her, rising above a still, blue lake, loomed the steeply pitched, gabled roofline of the Manor House.

The Queen Anne estate sat on top of the hillside like the grande dame of Watkins Mill that she was. The mansion was romantic in design but not fanciful, elegant but not pretentious, regal yet harmonious with her natural surroundings. Ancient magnolias were her ladies-in-waiting, tall, proud, and glossy with creamy white blossoms to adorn the front entrance. An imposing porte cochere that once upon a time gave shelter to carriages that delivered guests to the Watkinses' events now served as the lobby entrance for the Manor House. Behind the house on another hillside she saw a much larger, newer wood-and-stone building. This was Watkins Lodge. To the left of the house was a stone carriage house that was under reconstruction. She supposed that was where Stuart's Orvis shop would be located.

She pulled up under the portico and had no sooner turned off the engine when a uniformed attendant trotted to her door. It had been a very long time since she'd lived in the world of doormen, attendants, maids, and maitre d's, and she cursed herself for not washing her mud-streaked Jetta. Slightly embarrassed, she handed over the keys, then took a deep breath and climbed the stone steps to the front porch.

She stepped inside and instantly felt transported back into the previous century. Straight ahead a very wide, bold staircase of dark wood rose to a half landing under a skylight. Rich tapestries, carpets, and upholstery fabrics in gold and neutral tones appeared burnished against the highly polished floors. She could smell the lemon soap and the pungent, clean scent of eucalyptus from the glorious spray floral arrangement at the front desk.

"May I help you?" an attractive young woman at the desk asked.

She opened her mouth to speak when she heard Stuart's voice behind her.

"That's all right, Victoria. She's with me."

Mia turned to see Stuart, and yet it wasn't. She had to do a double take at seeing him in his dress trousers, an ironed tartan plaid shirt, and a green tie. He smiled and as always her gaze was directed to his eyes. They shone with appraisal.

"You look beautiful," he said.

Mia basked in the compliment. Earlier that day she'd shopped at the only women's clothing store in Watkins Mill. The salesclerk was a young woman about Mia's age, and when Mia told her she needed a dress for dinner, something classic and not showy, the salesclerk brightened. She hurried to the rear of the store, where long dresses with sequins and satin bows hung. Mia's heart sank, expecting to see something fit for a mother of the bride or a prom.