If You Believe

Mad Dog smiled. Rass and Jake could talk strategy from now until morning, and it wouldnt help. Mad Dog was gonna win this game.

Nothing—but nothing—was gonna keep him from spending the morning with Mariah. Even if he had to fish.

"I fold. " Rass slapped his cards down on the table.

Jake grinned. "Me, too. " His cards landed alongside his partners.

Mariah glanced down at the ten facedown cards. She had a strong urge to sweep them into her hands, but Rass had been firm on the "no peek" rule.

Mad Dog fanned his cards out in front of him. "What a surprise. I win . . . again. And with a pair of threes. " He turned to Mariah. "What about you?"

Mariah laid her cards down and frowned. She was starting to get extremely nervous.

She and Mad Dog were winning with unbelievable regularity. She was beginning to suspect that Rass was letting them win. And she did not want to win. "Not even a pair. Ten high," she said in a tight voice.

"Well, youre too good for the likes of us," Rass said, scooting his chair back and standing. He stretched and yawned, clamping a veiny hand over his mouth.

"Were not done playing!" Mariah almost yelled. Rass grinned. "Yes, we are. You two won. " He turned to Jake, still smiling triumphantly. "Lord, Im tired. How about you, Jake?"

The boy grinned up at the old man. "Dead tired. "

Mariah glanced at Jake, and felt a squeeze around her heart. "You want to sleep in the guest room?"

The boy cast a nervous look at Mad Dog. "N-No. I got my stuff in the barn already. "

She frowned, wondering what Mad Dog had to do with Jakes decision to sleep in the barn. "Well, if thats what youd prefer . . . "

Rass smacked the boy on the back. "I love a good fish fry. Dont you?" Then he glanced down at Mariah and Mad Dog. "Well be down for breakfast around 6:00.

Will you be ready?"

Mad Dog shrugged. "Its fishing, not flame throwing. How hard can it be?"

"I believe the last time you said that, you were talking about picking apples . . . or was it the pigpen?" Mariah reminded him dryly.

He laughed. "Thats work. Fishings fun. "

She gave him a wry look. "Is it?"

He turned to her. "Isnt it?"

"Certainly. What could be better than getting up before dawn to squish a bunch of slimy living animals onto metal hooks?"

He leaned toward her. "Will it be dark?"

She frowned. "Of course. "

He gave her a slow, dangerous smile.

God help her, she reacted. Anticipation crept down her spine in an icy shiver.

"Then, believe me, Mariah. Its gonna be fun. "

Chapter Twelve

Marian sat on the porchs top step, her knees drawn in close to her chest. Beside her lay two fishing poles, a willow trout basket, and a top-of-the-line Borcherdts tackle box.

She closed her eyes and leaned against the wisteria-twined porch post. The dry scent of dormant leaves teased her, reminded her of spring, when the thick, twisted brown vine had been leafy green and ripe with pale purple clusters.