Chapter 7

Father sighed deeply and shook his head, looking down at the litter of pens, books and notepaper on his desk top. A moment of silent contemplation helped to recover his considerably strained patience, and he began a second time. "Now, Mouse, let us try again. Why did Vincent send you back alone? Did he say anything to you about the difficulty of finding your way? Did he give you any instructions about how to get back?"

"Uh-uh," Mouse looked up under his brows. "Said Catherine shouldn’t be here. Said Mouse shouldn’t be here. Said …" His look became mischievous. Father had asked, hadn’t he? "Vincent was mad…Said Father shouldn’t’ve sent us." He grinned slyly. "Not mad at Mouse, though. Vincent knew Mouse could find his way. Easy! Been there once, just go back the same way!" Mouse sat back, satisfied that he had explained everything necessary.

Father took a breath to ask further questions, then he sighed and gave up. The boy was back safely, that was undeniable. "Yes…well…that will do, Mouse. Go and ask William for something to eat."

When Mouse had disappeared, intent on William and muffins, Father sighed again, leaning back to stare into the gloom at the top of the chamber. He was chagrined that Mouse knew of Vincent’s displeasure with him. Really! Couldn’t Vincent keep their personal disagreements between the two of them?

He still didn’t know why Vincent had sent Mouse back alone, but at least he and Catherine were now together, and hopefully arriving at some agreement. Now that he thought about it, perhaps Vincent had done the right thing. They certainly couldn’t talk about their personal relationship in Mouse’s presence; his curiosity was legend, as was his inability to identify a confidential matter as such.

He turned ruefully back to his medical journal. There was no advantage in worrying about them. They would settle their differences or they wouldn’t, whether he worried or not. But of course he would worry. Sighing a third time, he began to read.

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Catherine’s eyes opened to late morning sunlight glancing from the rocks below to light their ledge with its reflected glow. She began to turn over, then stopped quickly with a strangled groan. Is there a place that doesn’t hurt? God! I’m not going to be able to get up! She tried it again, more slowly this time, and managed to turn to her other side. From this vantage she could see that Vincent was nowhere in sight.

"Vincent? Where are you? …Vincent? ...Vincent!" It took no time at all for panic to set in. She sat up then, heedless of discomfort. As she was trying painfully to scramble to her feet, he came out of the tunnel mouth that she had explored yesterday, and moved quickly to embrace her.

"I’m right here. I’m sorry, Catherine. You were sleeping so soundly, I thought I could retrieve your burnt-out torch before you woke up.  I want to pack it, it will make firewood on the journey. I’m very sorry that I frightened you." His arm was around her, holding her tenderly, his hand warm on her shoulder.

"No…no, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have panicked like that." She raised her head from his shoulder and looked up at him, her tear-stained face irresistibly close. To her absolute astonishment he kissed her cheek, the merest touch of his lips but held for a second, long enough for her to feel how warm they were, and how soft. Then he dropped his arm from around her and stepped back, leaving her staring at him, stunned.

He said quickly, "I’ve been busy while you slept, making my crutch from the timber that cost you such pain to retrieve. It was exactly right." He gestured with his free hand to the sturdy crutch under his right arm.

"Y-yes, uh,…that’s good." Was he going to ignore the fact that he had just kissed her?

"I hope you’re feeling better? You look much more rested. There are some things to be done before we start our trip, and I think that you’ll benefit from another hour of rest while we do them." He didn’t look at her while he spoke, busying himself with small tasks. "The journey back to the hub is a long one, and for at least the first few hours we must move quickly. When we’ve retrieved more torches from the cache we’ll have leisure to move more slowly." He paused for a moment, seeming rather at a loss. Then… "Will you have something to eat now? I’m afraid there isn’t much variety, but what we have is nourishing and filling. We’ll be tired of cheese and crackers before we’ve reached our journey’s end, but we won’t be hungry." He paused again, began to speak, and then turned away without continuing.

He is going to ignore it… He had filled the space between them with talk in a most untypical manner. He’s embarrassed! she realized with a soft inner smile. In spite of her disappointment that he wasn’t going to acknowledge what he’d done, she was amused at his nervous outburst of conversation.

Vincent lowered himself to the floor with the help of the crutch and began to lay out their meal. His outer appearance was as usual, but his mind was roiling with emotion, desire, and guilt. I can’t do this! I can’t keep my hands and my mouth from her, can’t bear to see her looking up at me and not kiss her. What am I going to do? Unbidden there came to his mind the look of her bare breast, the feel of her satin skin under his hand. When sight of her breast’s tip rising under his touch came forcefully before his mind’s eye, he dropped the box he was holding and cradled his face in his hands. Holding his head, he rocked himself slightly back and forth in a spasm of guilty desire.

"Vincent?" Catherine knelt beside him. "What is it?"

He stopped suddenly and raised his head. "Nothing…nothing…I’m all right" He resumed his preparations for the meal without any further outward sign of his inner turmoil. But inside him, in the place where his guilt and pain resided, a decision was made. He would tell her soon, very soon, of his betrayal of her trust and his own honor.

Catherine knew the signs; whatever it was that bothered him, he wasn’t going to tell her, so she changed the subject. "Why did you let me sleep so long?" She scanned the angle of the sunlight lancing into the cavern. "It must be nearly noon! We should have gotten an early start, shouldn’t we?"

"No. Your rest, and mine also, were more important than an early start. It makes no real difference, day and night are the same where we’re going. I think we’re going to have enough food to last, and that would be the only reason for haste."

Catherine stretched as much as her various injuries would let her, and sat back down in her blankets, cautious of her bandaged wrist. "I must admit that the sleep did me good. I feel much better. I guess the wrist isn’t broken, it hurts much less this morning."

Vincent looked up from his food preparation. "I found something in the bottom of the pack that William must have meant for a surprise." As he spoke he removed a covered pan from the tiny fire. He took the top off, and an amazing, delicious aroma greeted her nostrils.

"Coffee? Oh William, I’m forever in your debt!" She reached heedlessly, stretching to reach the cup that Vincent held out, but in mid-reach she crumpled with a strangled cry. After a moment’s white-faced endurance she spoke: "…Wow. I won’t forget the stitches again!!" And she reached more slowly for the cup which Vincent’s dexterity had rescued in midair without spilling a drop.

"There isn’t much coffee, but I thought that this was the time." Vincent kept his head down, busy with food preparation.

Catherine savored her coffee, holding it close to her face even when she wasn’t sipping to enjoy the aroma. "I kept thinking I smelled coffee, but I was sure it was just a wishful delusion! When we get back, I’m going to buy William a present. What do you think? A whole wheel of the best cheese, or a twenty five pound turkey? No, that won’t feed everyone. Hm-m. Maybe twenty five pounds of coffee? No….it wouldn’t keep…." She huddled over her coffee, deep in thought.

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Vincent looked up from closing the second pack.

"We’re ready."

"OK. Let me swallow this." She grinned at him as she drank the last drops of coffee. "This will keep me going. Thanks to William, and thanks to you. Today certainly was the right time to produce it."

She got up and slid into her pack, stashing her cup in the top, then stood beside Vincent, prepared to be his prop while he levered himself to his feet

When he had gotten himself upright he raised his eyes to hers. "There. I’m ready. Are you?" As she met his eyes she realized something. It was the first time today that he’d looked directly at her. She searched his face, and when he tried to look away she grasped his chin to hold his gaze.

"Vincent? What is it?"

Wordlessly he tried to turn away, but her hand on his chin held him. "What is it? Are you all right?"

"No." His shoulders slumped, but he didn’t try again to turn away. "I have…I need to…talk; but not now. We should go."

"Now! Tell me."

"Please, Catherine. I will talk about it, but give me this day to think it out. Please?"

She couldn’t refuse his plea. "All right. Tonight?"

"Yes."

"OK."

She dropped her hand from his face with a soft pat of his cheek, hesitated, still holding his gaze, and then stood up on her toes and kissed his cheek swiftly. He stood absolutely still, his eyes closed, for a long moment, then opened them and turned away without a word.

They started off; Vincent seemed to be moving quite easily with his crutch, although she was sure that his leg was still hurting. It was, but it was running a poor second to the pain in his mind.

As they walked, Catherine recognized that they were using the same path that she had taken to get water. "Are we going back by the mineral spring, Vincent?"

"Yes, it’s on our way. We’ll refill our water bottles there." He walked on for a few seconds, then stopped and turned to look at her. "You could use another soak in the spring, couldn’t you? And so could I. We’ll stop there to bathe. I believe that the time lost will be compensated for by the beneficial effects of the spring. I should have thought of it sooner." He turned and continued to walk.

Catherine was slow to start. He mind was totally engaged with what he had just said. "…we’ll stop there to bathe." And just how does he plan to do that? She gave herself a little shake and skipped a few steps to catch up with him. I guess we’ll find out.

Vincent came from the Tunnel culture, where people often bathed together in the community pools. Nudity wasn’t usually practiced, but the attitude was casual. One turned one’s back as others dressed, but it wasn’t required, it was only a matter of courteous behavior, and when climbing in and out of pools one wore one’s towel until there was danger of wetting it, but to most tunnel residents it just wasn’t a matter of great importance. Sometimes it wasn’t convenient to cover up, and modesty bowed to necessity on occasion.

On this occasion, nudity would be necessary. The clothes they were wearing were their only clothes, and wet clothing was not an option in the chill of the tunnels. As she thought about it a little more, Catherine was apprehensive that Vincent would find this very difficult.

He didn’t seem concerned about it. When they reached the pool, he propped the torch very close to the edge of the pool, and laid matches carefully beside it. He laid out the one towel that they had on the other side of the little beach and gestured toward it.

"Catherine, this is for you to use. Will you be able to undress and enter the pool in the dark, or shall I wait to put out the torch?"

Catherine wished very much to say that she could do it in the dark, but her stiffened body and injured wrist might make that difficult. "I’d really rather have the light, I’m afraid I’m not in such great shape to be trusting myself in the dark," she said apologetically.

"Yes, of course. I should have realized. All right, go ahead." He turned his back before he spoke again. "Get into the water as quickly as you can, the air is cold."

The heavily mineral laden water was very warm, almost hot, and when Catherine was thankfully submerged in it she could see her body only vaguely in the fitful light of the torch. She laid back, enjoying at the comforting feel of the water, and looked up at the sparkling beauty of the cavern’s ceiling.

"I’m going to put out the torch now. Is that all right with you?"

"Any time. I’m so comfortable, I think I’ll go to sleep again."

"Do that. The combination of rest and the hot spring will be very beneficial. For me too. I’m looking forward to it."

The torch went out, and she heard the rustle of Vincent getting out of his clothes. The water surged and lapped nearly over her chin as he entered it beside her. When he was settled in the hot water he sighed heavily. "That feels good."

As she stretched her body out, finding a comfortable position for sleep, Catherine smiled to herself. He had found a way to get them undressed and into the water without embarrassment. He always found a way to surprise her.

Then he surprised her again as she felt his hand touch her arm, then run down it to clasp her hand. "Rest now, Catherine. Rest."

Hand in hand, they slept.