Awakened in August (Spring River Valley Book 8) (3 page)

“There’s nothing wrong with liking excitement, but there’s a difference between thriving on chaos and responsibility and drowning in it. Don’t drown, Riley.” She pulled her hand away and stalked off, joining a group of guests farther up the trail. “All right, folks, we have a long walk back so let’s shut the phones off. Just up ahead is Gossamer Falls—that’s where the meditation classes will be held at six and again at nine every morning. You don’t have to make reservations, just show up to the class and bring the mat you’ll find in your cabin.”

Riley watched her go, not quite sure why he felt bad for defending his lifestyle. He’d been driven to succeed from the time he was in kindergarten, always striving for the highest grade and the most praise from the teacher. His parents, consumed by the health problems of his younger brother, Landon, hadn’t had much time to coddle him, and he’d never wanted it. He became self-sufficient early in life, and discovered that as long as he was busy studying, working, and doing chores, he could lessen their burden. The rewards of his hard work piled up: a steady paycheck from a part-time job, a handful of scholarships that put him through college, and a job at Esterhause, Brady and Danziger that helped pay his way through law school. He’d always been proud of his work ethic and his achievements, so why now, did he feel like he needed to apologize to Lydia for letting the weight of his responsibilities land him in the ER?

It wouldn’t happen again. He knew that. The scare had taught him he needed to temper his hard work with time off, which he was dutifully doing. One of these a year, maybe only for a week next time, and he’d be perfectly fine. He certainly wasn’t going to let the work he loved be the death of him.

Lydia spent a restless night in her cabin plagued by indecision. She liked Riley, and she cared just as much for his well being as she did for all of the guests at Green Solutions, but she’d asked herself a dozen times through the night why the thought of him returning to his workaholic lifestyle when his vacation was over bothered her so much more. She understood that a good portion of the people who thought Green Solutions was a great idea for the first seven days of their stay were desperate to get back to the rat race at the end of two weeks. Her own experience had been different. A near breakdown mid-semester of her second year in law school had prompted a weekend getaway to the resort back when they ran shorter stays. Three days had turned into a week, and a month later, with a job offer in hand, she’d quit school after realizing her health depended on not living the lifestyle she’d planned on living since high school.

She couldn’t expect everyone who spent a little time soaking up mountain air to feel the same way about the experience, and she had nothing but sympathy for those who left early fearing that too much time away from their jam-packed schedules would lead to social, professional, or financial ruin. They had their priorities—right or wrong.

It didn’t make sense that the thought of Riley returning to his sixty-hour work week actually brought tears to her eyes.

By dawn Sunday morning, she’d decided she could only do so much for him. Maybe two weeks at the resort would help him change, but if it didn’t, there was nothing she could do about it.

The last thing she expected was to find him at the six a.m. meditation class, sitting cross-legged on a woven mat, facing the gurgling waterfall, head back, eyes closed, his breathing steady and controlled.

Rather than join in, she hung back at the edge of the man-made amphitheater and watched while Gianna, the mediation instructor, led her dedicated pupils, or more accurately, those who were used to getting up before sunrise to tackle their morning commute, in the art of mind over matter.

She caught one man peeking at the cell phone he’d hidden under his bent knee, but she said nothing. At least the man was making an effort. Riley on the other hand, seemed not to be trying at all. He acted as though he’d already attained perfect peace. His posture and balance were excellent, his strong back was straight, and his hands lay relaxed on his thighs. His chest rose and fell rhythmically. Either he was asleep sitting up, or he was putting on a good show, because there was no way he could have mastered meditation in one class while those around him fidgeted and yawned and peered at each other through half-closed eyelids.

“You’ve all done very well today,” Gianna told the group when the class ended. Lydia stood in the dappled shade by the edge of the water, just about convinced Riley had made a miraculous turnabout, when his gaze tracked toward her and a sly grin spread over his face.

He clamped down on the guilty look fast, but she’d caught it. The snake.

She strode over to him as he rolled up his mat. “I saw that,” she whispered low enough that the other guests wouldn’t hear over the relaxing burble of the water.

“Saw what?” Again with the innocent act. Had he come here just to drive her crazy?

“That look. You don’t meditate. I know you don’t.”

“How do you know? In fact, I learned meditation from an executive at Moji Kawahosu, the investment firm. They’re a top client, and a bunch of us were invited to one of their weekend management training seminars. I can sit still like that for three hours and not bat an eyelash.”

She glowered at him. “So what do you need this place for? You should be calm as a cucumber if you can meditate like that.”

“Just because I know what to do, doesn’t mean I have the time to do it. This was nice. I feel very relaxed.” He stretched and patted his stomach. “Now I could use some breakfast. Care to join me for a veggie omelet and an oat bran muffin?”

Why did she have the feeling he was mocking her? His smile was genuine, sexy in fact, but something wasn’t right.

“What are you trying to prove?”

“I’m not trying to prove anything.”

Lydia caught the nearly imperceptible flicker of his eyes to the side and decided she’d caught him red-handed in a lie. “Oh…I get it. If you flunk out of relaxation class, your bosses will think twice about giving you the tough cases. They’ll be afraid you’ll crack under the pressure, so you have to prove you won’t by being a model Greenie.”

He laughed, but she detected a stiffness to it. “Greenie? Is that what you call us?” He gestured to the others who were filing down the path, obviously eager for breakfast. Gianna lingered for a second, caught Lydia’s eye and winked, then headed off herself. For some reason the gesture annoyed her. Did Gianna think there was something going on between her and Riley after one day?

“Yes, we call you Greenies. Not in a bad way. And way to avoid the question. You’re on some kind of probation, aren’t you?”

“No.” He tucked his mat under his arm, pivoted away from her, and walked away.

“Good thing you’re not under oath. That was perjury if I ever heard it, counselor,” she called after him, but he made no reply.

* * * *

By dinnertime on Sunday, Riley was exhausted. Partly to prove something to Lydia and partly because he figured he might as well make the most of his trip, he’d spent the day engaged in every activity Green Solutions had to offer. He swam in the lake and in the resort’s Olympic-size swimming pool. He took a drumming class and sat in on the organic cooking lecture. He tried the painting class, which showcased his complete lack of artistic talent, and joined the afternoon yoga class. Downward facing dog left him with a crick in his back, and he was pretty sure a bug flew into his mouth during the sun salutation, but he didn’t complain.

After each activity, he looked for Lydia. She always seemed to be at the periphery of his vision, leading a nature walk while he was doing laps, sitting in on basket weaving while he was learning a Native American rain dance, and discussing proper hiking attire while he was in line at the snack hut waiting for a vanilla chai smoothie.

He knew his attitude this morning had put her off, and he was sorry. He regretted walking off during their conversation, but he’d been annoyed that she seemed to be able to read him so well. Yes, he’d been playacting during meditation. He could no more meditate than he could levitate, and he had no plans to learn, but he wanted her to think he had this relaxation thing in the bag. If only he could figure out why it mattered so much to him that she thought he didn’t need any help. Was it because he hated to admit weakness? Or was it because he wanted to impress her?

Either way, he’d been a jerk. His walk to the Long House for the evening meal seemed quiet and lonely without her, and as soon as he reached the common area where the aroma of fresh grilled vegetables and handmade artisan bread reached him, he scanned the gathering crowd for her.

He found her at a table near the windows overlooking the lake, nursing a glass of green tea decorated with mint sprigs.

She eyed him suspiciously as he approached. “You were busy today.”

He lowered himself to the chair opposite her, his back protesting. He ignored the twinge. No more downward facing dog for him. “I had a great time. I looked for you. You always seemed to be pretty busy yourself.”

She shrugged, her loose blond braid slipping over her shoulder. “That is what they pay me for.”

“I thought maybe you were avoiding me.”

After a sip of her drink she met his gaze. “Nope. I thought you were avoiding me.”

“I’m sorry about this morning.”

Her stern gaze softened, and the sparkle he’d missed all day long returned to her eyes. “So am I. You’re here, and that’s what’s important. The whys and wherefores are not.”

“Unlike law, where the whys and wherefores are very important.”

“And now you see, I haven’t completely eradicated the legal eagle in me.” She smiled, and Riley imagined he saw some of the tension leaving her shoulders.

He leaned back in his chair, grinning to hide the wince of pain. He hadn’t gotten this much exercise in one day in a long time, and after just a few minutes of sitting still, he’d begun to feel it. Of course, he didn’t dare let on. “Are you trying to eradicate all traces of the law student I used to know?”

Her nod was barely perceptible.

“Why? You were a brilliant student. You could integrate this…organic lifestyle with a law career if you wanted to.”

“No. I couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

Lydia took a deep breath. Her gaze wandered to the beautiful view of the lake. “Second year, I was slammed with classes, terrified of failing, barely sleeping, hardly eating, and considering borrowing some medication from my roommate in order to pull a couple of all-nighters without crashing. I actually had a handful of pills in my hand—I wasn’t even sure of the name of the drug. It was her anxiety medication and some kind of stimulant she’d gotten from another friend who swore the combination would make her calm and productive at the same time. I was looking at this handful of chemicals, getting reading to wash them down with an energy drink and then force myself to eat a microwave dinner before I went to the library to work on one of my papers. I was shaking so hard I actually dropped one of the pills before I could get it into my mouth.”

Riley stared, dumbfounded. He’d never guessed Lydia had suffered from such anxiety during law school. He remembered a pretty, vivacious, opinionated girl who loved to challenge him on every homework problem and test question. He couldn’t picture her so stressed that she needed medication to get a paper written. “What stopped you from taking them?”

“That was it…the shaking. My hands—I couldn’t even twist the cap off the drink bottle. I was terrified the pills would just make me feel even worse, so I flushed them and I went out and sat on a bench in the quad until four a.m. Shivering. At one point, I said to myself, imagine if all of this stress went away. What if I didn’t have to do any of this? How would I feel? I stopped shivering and went inside, fell asleep, and when I woke up—ten hours later—that day I left campus and booked a weekend here in Red Fork. I never went back. A month later, after I’d missed mid-terms, I called the dean’s office and withdrew from all my classes.”

Riley shook his head. “I think most people I knew back then would have taken the pills.”

“I asked myself a thousand times why I didn’t. I could have done it. I could have just gotten through that night and maybe dropped a class, asked for an extension on one of my papers to lighten the load a little bit, but I knew it wouldn’t be enough. I knew there’d be another day I’d be sitting there wondering what I could take to help me get through it, and I didn’t want to feel like that.”

“How did your parents take it? They must have been shocked.”

Her grin held a brittle edge. “Shocked is a nice word. They were livid. They’re still not happy that I’m frolicking around in the woods as they call it, making ashtrays. We don’t even make ashtrays here. But that’s what they think I do.”

“I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, I think you did the right thing.”

“Thanks. You’re one of about two people who feel that way. The other one is Lily. Everyone else thinks I caved under the pressure and I had a momentary breakdown that could have been cured with the right kind of therapy, and of course, the right dose of some anti-anxiety medication. Do you see why I feel so strongly about not letting stress eat you up alive? I know you love your work, but your bosses didn’t hire you for love. They hired you for how much they think you can produce, and if you let them, they’ll drain you dry every single day for the rest of your life.”