Lake carried a bucket of water that looked half her size. She put it down in front of Betsy and with a tentative hand, stroked the horse’s nose. We were only halfway through the ride, and she was already overcoming her fear. It was what I wanted, except that when Betsy whinnied and Lake jumped back and looked at me, a part of me liked that. I craved that feeling of being needed again, of being held onto when she was scared. A hint of fear was good. It would keep her alert.

The air up here was crisp. I could practically feel it move through my lungs. I wished my fears were as easily overcome, but I was fucked any way I turned. Lake was important to me in a way she shouldn’t be. Her naiveté about some things made me overprotective. Then, once in a while her girlish mannerisms or expressions reminded me of things Maddy did I’d forgotten about, like how she blinked a lot when processing something new. It drew me in. On a primal level, I wanted to keep bad things from happening to her. Was it more than that? I didn’t want to know the answer. In some ways, she was still sweet and open. In others, Lake was more mature than people my own age. She wanted to understand things rather than accept them as they were. She took an interest in me nobody else had in a long time, grilling me about the smoking, asking why I wanted to be a cop. Trusting me when she had no reason to.

Lake returned to my side. She’d barely spent any time with Hannah or her girls since we’d left the stables. She was here to experience camp, not me. But I was greedy. When she looked up at me with her huge eyes, waiting for my direction, I knew peripherally that I was in too deep. I needed to pull back. But that look reminded me someone might depend on me again one day, and if things were different, Lake could’ve been that someone.

She was still standing there. Even if I pushed my heels into my eye sockets and forced her image away, she’d still be here. Looking up at me. Waiting.

“Why don’t you go check on the girls?” I asked.

“I did. The boys, too. After I gave the horse water.”

Time passed in a funny way around her. Maybe she had talked to the campers. Maybe she’d spent time with Hannah. I’d been the one standing in the same spot, watching her. Time could be slow like that with her, and then sometimes it went by in flashes. Sometimes I just wanted it to stop and others, I wished it’d go by faster.

“We should head back,” she said. “There’s a group after us.”

I wasn’t sure if it was the altitude or what. My head wasn’t clear. All I could think was that I’d spent twenty-four hours on a lake, underneath clear, endless skies, and yet I’d still never seen a blue the shade of her eyes. I was sure the image of her looking up at me this way would be burned into my brain for as long as I walked this Earth.

“Manning?”

“Yeah.” I tore my gaze away. “Get on.”

“I want to drive.”

Half an hour ago, she could barely bring herself to get near the horse. Maybe she didn’t need me after all. “By yourself?”

“No, with you.”

I nodded. “You get on first.”

“Will you help?”

“You can do it,” I said.

“I know. I want your help.”

I ran a hand through my hair. The other instructors were helping campers on the horses. How was this different? I had no reason to feel weird. Lake was Tiffany’s little sister.

She stuck her foot in the stirrup and looked back at me, waiting.

As I took Lake by the waist and put her in the saddle, I tried not to notice how her shirt rode up. “All set?” I asked one of the handlers.

“Got the back?” he replied.

“Yeah.”

One by one, the group lined up to head back for the campsite. I grabbed the knob at the front of the saddle, right between Lake’s legs, and pulled myself up behind her. She slid back into the “V” my thighs made, the two of us fitting together like puzzle pieces. I took the reins and waited until everyone had gone ahead of us. I could’ve rested my chin on Lake’s head, or closed my arms around her and engulfed her completely. Her hair smelled like sweet summer strawberries, as if she washed it in the produce section of a fucking supermarket.

Distracted, I pulled on the reins without meaning to, and Betsy stopped.

“What’s wrong?” Lake asked.

“Nothing.” I squeezed Betsy’s middle to get her to go again. I tried to remember how Tiffany smelled. Nothing came to mind except that she smoked cigarettes and chewed a lot of minty gum.

“I’m ready to try,” Lake said.

My head was still foggy, my ears buzzing. I didn’t want Lake to take over while I was out of sorts. Maddy had died around the same age as these girls surrounding me. I was responsible for them. Should I be doing more to keep them safe? Things I hadn’t done for Madison? The day she’d died, it wasn’t the first time my dad had gone into a rage. So why hadn’t my mom or I had him locked up sooner? Why hadn’t I been gentler, more understanding with Maddy?

“Manning?” Lake asked.

“In a minute.”

“But we’re falling behind.”

The rest of the campers were yards ahead, so I tapped Betsy into a trot. Lake bounced underneath me, skidding backward in the saddle until she was right up against my crotch. Up until this point, as a grown man, I’d thought I could control myself. Even earlier, when she’d squeezed me as tightly as a predator would its prey, her hands dangerously low on my stomach, I’d kept it together. But now, my body reacted only as a man. I wanted to wrap my arms around her front, pull her closer, let her feel what she did to me. I was losing control.

“Take the reins, Lake.” I slowed Betsy down and said, “Now. Come on.”

She did, and I slid back to put some space between us.

“I’m not going to the dining hall tonight,” I announced.

“What?” Her fine blonde hairs floated between us and stuck to my chest. “Why not?”

I guess I’d said it to put it out there. To put a different kind of distance between us. Because I knew, I knew she’d ask why. How much had she heard the night before in the woods? Tiffany and I had been arguing because I’d refused, yet again, to go on a “walk” with her. She didn’t want to walk. She wanted to fool around.

“I came here for you,” Tiffany had said once Lake’d gone off with that kid. “You think I like this?” she’d asked. “The girls hate me. I’m here for you, and you don’t even care.”

“I care,” I’d said.

Tiffany had stamped out her cigarette in the woods without a thought for how dangerous that might be. “Then prove it,” she’d said and walked off.

I’d needed to hear it. Being up here, rules changed. There wasn’t anything wrong with hanging around a sixteen-year-old, and it was messing with my head. Tiffany was out of her element, and she needed my help. Lake could handle herself. Maybe it was the wakeup call Lake and I both needed.

“Tiffany and I have plans,” I told Lake. “Alone.”

Lake had the posture of a college professor. It made her reactions easy to read. I expected disappointment, and that’s what I got. My instinct was to comfort her, but that’d probably be the worst thing I could do to a teenage girl I was pretty sure harbored a crush on me.

“What plans?” she asked. “You can’t leave the grounds.”

“I can if I want.” I was a grown man, and I’d go where I liked. But I wouldn’t. Where I wanted to be, one of the main reasons I’d come here, was where I could watch over Lake. I wasn’t going to go off for a few hours and leave her behind. “Bucky’s going to make us dinner after lights-out.”

“Oh.”

There was a fine line between hurting her and warning her off, and I could tell by her reaction I’d achieved the former. Knowing it was best didn’t make me feel better. Not thirty minutes ago, she’d pulled her body close to mine, told me she was getting older every day. It wasn’t news to me, and it tore me down the middle. I didn’t want her to get older, to know what I knew, to do things Tiffany had done. But it would happen regardless. Someone else would be her first love. Some other man would be the first to cherish her. The first to ruin her. It couldn’t be me. It wasn’t so much the difference in our ages that scared me, but how much a person could change, could be changed, in only a couple years.

They were thoughts I didn’t want to have, and they got louder as she sat quietly, guiding the horse. There wasn’t a single blemish on her pink cheeks. I opened my mouth to ask if she’d put on sunscreen, but that wasn’t what came out. “What about that guy?”

She sighed. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

I’d gone too far, maybe. “Do what?”

“Drive.” She held up the reins. “Will you?”

I took them back as discontent rolled off her. “Lake?”

“Were you with her last night?” she asked. “Is that why she was late this morning?”

I had no idea that was even on her mind. It really fucking shouldn’t have been. She should be thinking about campfire skits and summer reading lists and whatever else young girls thought about. “That’s between me and your sister.”

“Oh. Okay. Then don’t ask me about that guy. And his name is Corbin.”

I knew his name, but I wasn’t going to use it. I didn’t like how he kept appearing out of nowhere, how he’d set his sights on Lake but also knew Tiffany through his brother. “Did he just take you back to your cabin or what?”

“I want to get off.”

“And do what?” I asked. “Walk back?”

“It’s not that far.”

“I’m not prying, just making sure he was polite. That he didn’t, you know, try anything.”

Her breathing sped. Her heart had pounded against my back earlier. I was better than her at hiding it, but my reaction to her was the same. Physical. Powerful. Painful.

“I’m not going to let you down,” I said.

She looked over the side of the horse, as if she were thinking of jumping off. I had no business asking her what I did, making her feel sad or bad for letting Corbin walk her back like any normal teen girl would’ve done. My hands sweat around the leather reins. “Hold on,” I said.

“What?”

“Grab something. The saddle, my arms, whatever.”

Once she had the horn, I applied pressure to Betsy’s sides. She took off into a trot. “What are you doing?” Lake asked, grabbing my forearms instead.

I nudged the horse again, and she picked up her pace. “Relax.”

“You don’t even know how to ride,” she cried. “Stop.”

I steered the horse alongside the other campers, who hollered at us. One of the instructors cheered us on. He’d called Betsy wild, but he wouldn’t put us on a horse that couldn’t be controlled. We cantered to the front of the group.

Lake squirmed between my legs, her fingers digging into my skin. “Manning—please.”

“Please what, Birdy? I’ve got you. Don’t worry.”

She didn’t ease her hold on me, but she relaxed her back against my front as we pulled out ahead of the group. Instinctively, I put an arm around her, holding her to me, just us, just for a second. Some strands of her hair flew into my mouth, but she was laughing again. It came from a place of pure joy. I liked that laugh so much, that carefree sound in my ears.

My world had been so dark before Lake.

It worried me how far I’d go to keep that light in my life.