To Hope Anew

Chapter Ten

Jacob carefully clutched the bright patchwork pillow in his smallarms and crossed the room to the rocking chair. With the utmostconcentration he set the pillow down onto the well-worn seat of thechair, and patted it twice to make certain it had settled properly inits place. He looked over his shoulder then to the tall figurestanding a few feet away and smiled broadly.

"All done, Father."

"Yes, I believe we are finished, Jacob." The little boy was easilyscooped up into his father's warm, strong arms. His favorite place inthe world. From the protected vantage point, Jacob was able tohappily survey the world, secure in the beloved embrace. He followedhis father's gaze around their room.

"Do you like it, Jacob?" There was something about the morningthat was lightening his father's heart. The little boy felt it withinhimself. It was such a welcome feeling, and despite the strange andunfamiliar commotion of the morning, Jacob knew the happiness wasstrong enough to linger about them this day.

It had been an unusual morning, too. Instead of the simple, quietroutines of the child's life, the day had begun in a flurry ofanxious activity. The room he shared with his father, his home, hadbeen changed. Several of the bigger boys had come in and helped hisfather move things around, bring new things in. The little boyunderstood what they were all doing, but he wasn't certain aboutwhy.

Then father had explained. "Diana will be coming to stay with ustoday, remember?"

"For always? She won't need to go back again?"

Jacob's questions had been met with a quiet sigh and thestrengthening of that wondrous warm feeling filling his heart fromhis father's. "Yes, she is staying with us for always. She will be apart of our family."

That made everything right. If all the activity was for Diana,then it was nothing to be worried about. Father had told him a whileago that the beautiful lady he cherished with such trusting devotionwould be coming to live with them, be with them, but the childthought such a wondrous gift would be too good to be true. He didn'tdare hope, didn't dare believe it: His father's spirit had ached soevery time Diana had returned to her own home Above. He couldn'tbelieve that the warm brightness of today's reality would remainreal.

Jacob looked around the room. It was still home, but somehow, alittle brighter. Like the pretty-colored quilt that now hung on thewall behind his crib. It hadn't been there before, but it wascheerful to look at; somehow, it made the room feel a bit warmer, abit... happier.

"Yes, father. I like it very much."

Vincent smiled easily at the little boy up in his arms. He neverceased to be amazed at the child, the wonder of having him near. Andnow that he was growing and becoming more and more articulate everyday, it was a wonder just to spend time speaking with him.

Jacob was far advanced in his language skills for his tender age.He was already capable of reciting favorite poems, even though hecarried a bit of his baby lisp in their delivery, which only servedto accentuate his accomplishments . Yet, even more advanced than hisvocabulary was his loving empathy and connection to his father'sspirit, a tender lifeline of promise and innocence.

Every evening before bed, Vincent was gifted with a bit of his ownchildhood returned to him, as he and Jacob nestled comfortably on hisbed amid the pillows and quilts, to venture through treasuredchildhood stories and books. No matter what duties claimed Vincent'sattention during the later hours Below, he always spent the betterpart of an hour in delighted communion with Jacob and his books andconversation.

More and more often, that time had included talk of Diana, of hisfather's hopes for them all. And Jacob had welcomed the change he hadfelt come over his parent's spirit.

Vincent had dared to share, aloud, his dreams, with his child,for, beyond the little boy's wealth of intellectual and imaginativeability, the mythic figure treasured his son's heart above all else.There was a purity and completeness to Jacob's love for all thosearound him that left everyone feeling blessed by his mere presence.It was as if Vincent's and Catherine's love for one another hadactually taken on a mortal form in the child.

His link to his father's spirit, more than once, had revived aflagging heart, at times so ready to succumb to desolation. Vincentnever gave in to his pain completely, let despair wash over himtotally, for to do so would be to touch the anguish to the child aswell. At times, it seemed that the very essence of Vincent's spirithad been carefully placed within shelter of the child's soul, keepingit safe from harm. It took only the soft touch of a little hand, asweet smile, an unexpected word, to offer that essence back to thesorely-tested man, unharmed.

That safeguarding of the spirit was also very much Diana's welcomeability. More than once, the little boy had recognized in thebright-haired angel a kindred spirit, someone who cherished hisfather's heart, stood ever vigilant in its protection. The thoughtthat she would now share in their day to day existence was a preciouscomfort to the sensitive child.

"I hope Diana will be pleased." Vincent turned round once moretaking in the changes he had allowed to take place in his room. Theywere subtle enough; even he had a hard time realizing his one placeof total refuge in the world had not always been detailed as such.But the small changes had indeed brought a hint of brightness moreeasily noticed into the space.

It was so like Diana to bring such transformations about inwhatever she touched, whomever she blessed with her closeness. Thingswere changed, people were changed, with her hopeful imaginationseeing beyond that which actually existed to the wealth ofpossibility that could exist beyond the present reality aroundher.

Yet, the changes that she quietly inspired were never jarring ormisplaced, never far from the actual truth revealed. It was as thoughher influences had always been there, had always actually been a partof the world around her, the changes wrought had always been; theyonly needed to be viewed from a different perspective to shine.

"Diana will be happy, too, Father."

Vincent looked into the eyes of his child and believed in thetruth revealed there completely as well. He let a rare, totallyencompassing smile spread across his unique face.

"And now, because you have been so patient with me this morning,my little one, how would you like to do something special?"

The child's face brightened as completely as his father's had."May we go and sail our boats?"

"Only for a short while. Mary and Grandfather will need us soon tohelp with the rest of the preparations for today."

"Thank you, Father. I can't wait to try my new sail."

Vincent set the child gently back to the floor. "Now hurry andfind your boat. I believe Jamie was going to bring Luke and Katy downto the river, too. You all can have a race."

The little boy scurried over to a small wooden chest near hisnewly rearranged corner of the room. Vincent was suddenly taken abackat the realization that the child now easily lifted the lid of thechest without assistance. His little legs were lengthening almostdaily, it seemed, and he was proudly able to clamber atop or beyondone former obstacle after another.

Even his crib. Vincent knew the child was overdue for a small bedof his own, but he had opted to wait a while still before forcing thechange onto him. There had been enough upheavals in the little boy'slife to date. He'd weathered them all with serenity. Having him giveup the familiar and sheltered confines of his crib could wait foranother time.

Limits were not always negatives in life.

Ten minutes later found Jacob blowing as hard as he could acrossthe wooden form of a small sailing scow, built with the generousassistance of Cullen's pile of scrap wood. Part of a handkerchief hadbeen rigged up as a sail, and the dregs of Elizabeth's paint pots hadyielded a fine assortment of reds, blues, and greens to color thelittle ship's hull.

The vessel was afloat on a small pool formed by an eddy of thegreat river in the Chamber of the Falls. If one carefully followed anarrow and steep path down from the viewing ledge of the Falls, asheltered stretch of the riverbank itself was accessible. It had beenone of Vincent's favorite places as a child, the imagined launchingpoint of a rafting adventure conjured up for him by Devin. Eventhough there was only rock walls and filtered sunlight in viewwherever anyone turned, a young boy's imagination could easily turnthe spot to a landing on the mighty Mississippi.

Or a young woman's hopeful, creative instincts could turn it intoa garden.

Vincent watched happily as Jacob's tiny craft proved itselfseaworthy enough to cross the little makeshift pond in a respectabletime. Luke's small vessel likewise navigated the little ocean withease. Katy's ship had a mishap with its sail halfway across. Vincentcarefully rehoisted it so that she, too, could enjoy the marineadventure. Jamie, who had brought the other children down to theriver for some early playtime as well, before all the concentratedactivities of the day, stood ready to safely haul in the vessels asthey crossed.

After numerous sailing excursions, the children, as one, begged tobe allowed to splash their feet in the pool, and their eldersrealized it would be futile to attempt to refuse them. Besides, themore energy they expended here, the less likely the trio was apt tofind itself into mischief later, Vincent discerned, from plenty ofpast experience. So shoes and socks were slipped off and pant legsrolled up. In Katy's case, her skirt was tucked up. A moment later,the delighted squeals of the children's laughter rang across thegreat cavern to mingle with the roar of the Falls far beyond.

Settling onto a small wooden bench that had been placed nearby theriver's edge, Vincent let himself be drawn into the joy and magic ofthe children's play. This place was magic as well, he thought, moresobecause of the imaginative changes born of Diana's special touch. Twoyears ago it had been only a rocky leveling of the river's course.Now it was the community park.

An actual patch of green grass, interspersed with vinca andmosses, about 15 feet wide, ran up alongside the river's edge fornearly l00 feet. Two large ficus trees in pots made of wooden barrelhalves sheltered the bench Vincent sat upon. Scattered along thelength of the green area were assorted pots of all sizes and material-- actual terra cotta flower pots, a ceramic tea kettle or two thathad cracked on the huge old stove in William's kitchen, an enamelwarecoffee pot with a dented and equally leaky bottom, and a dozen otherfanciful containers that had outlived their original uses, havinginstead been brought to the river for their newest assignments:holding a vibrant and varied collection of green and flowering plantsspilling over with life.

There were astilbes and hostas and, at this time of year, even ahybrid lily or two. Several ferns brought lush texture to the space.Everything was growing in soil that had been backbreakingly hauleddown to the river's edge by hand and kept evenly moist by theperpetual mist and humidity caused by the Fall.

Over along the far edge of the spot, sheltered up against therising heights of the cliffs, was a small play area for the youngerchildren, with a sandbox, slide and two wooden toddler's swingshanging from an A-frame.

Vincent leaned his head back and looked up into the ficus with itsabundance of green leaves. An imaginative heart had been able to turnstone and rock into an outdoor paradise beloved by all in thecommunity. The only thing that was missing was a bird or two. If hekept his gaze in the light filtered by the small tree long enough, hecould even swear there was a blue sky overhead. It wasmiraculous.

Turning back to take in the children and Jamie splashing in thepool, Vincent's gaze came to a halt. Even now, the distinctly pointedpang of remembrance was recognizable within his heart, not raw anddesperate but still quietly aching and familiar:

Just off the center of the magically lush green space, a largeclay pot claimed Vincent's attention, as always. It held, tooverflowing, the very first plant to have found its home in thislittle bit of Brigadoon -- a rose bush, in full bloom, covered withtender-petaled flowers of deep red and purest white.

Catherine's rose.

"I thought you could use a change of scenery by now."

Diana attempted to process the words, but somehow it wasn't easy.It had been two weeks since the catastrophic flood, two weeks thatshe had spent in the rocky, candlelit world of the tunnels Below.Although she had been freed of most of her pain during that time, herheavy leg cast and the rugged lie of many of the tunnels made itimpossible for her to spend any significant time on her feet, evenwith the help of crutches, especially since her right arm was alsostill encased in plaster. The extent of her experience with thephysical characteristics of the tunnel world had been limited, bynecessity, to a week in the large hospital ward chamber and nowanother week in her own room, one of the guest chambers.

She had actually made it out of bed by now. The mostwell-appointed upholstered chair that could be found in the community-- a large, overstuffed arm chair of questionable decor in a murkyshade of avacado green -- had found its way into her room. Coveredwith a quilt and accessorized with pillows, an ottoman, and a laptray, the chair had allowed Diana the possibility of feeling less ofan invalid from her injuries.

The community had continued to do its best to include her in itsdaily routines, for which Diana had been eternally grateful. Twoweeks of nothing but serene immobility would have tested any a hardysoul. So, in a short space of time she had become quite familiar withthe daily life of the tunnel inhabitants, their easy rhythms ofnurturing and concern. It soothed her troubled spirit like a returnjourney home.

This time of morning had brought about one of the young woman'sfavorite activities: sitting in, literally, on the children'sclasses. Each day at least one lesson had been transported to thelocation of her chamber, and the interaction with the brightyoungsters of the community was a godsend, reminding her of theinfinite possibilities of life.

She had listened to a discussion of cells led by Father for theolder children's science class on Monday, even having been allowed aturn at the microscope. Tuesday Olivia had helped the seven and eightyear olds through the logic of math computations by using buttons andpebbles, which somehow always got scattered. And Wednesday foundElizabeth guiding sharp young eyes through the subtle properties oflight and shadow in her art appreciation class.

This Friday morning's class had been Diana's favorite one toparticipate in yet. Samantha had been "student teaching" Vincent'shistory and literature classes for the younger children all week, inpreparation for her much anticipated future position as teacherwithin the community. Together with her own beloved mentor, the girlhad led the children through some of the history of their own cityAbove -- New York -- bringing alive the facts of immigrant living atthe turn of the century.

To help gel the experience of emigrating to a foreign land,Samantha had devised a special lesson activity for the week: that ofwriting "journal entries" through the eyes of immigrant children.Each of her young students had chosen and researched a character forthemselves and placed themselves in the immigrant experience throughthe eyes of that person with their writings.

Young Caleb had written about the voyage to a new land: "I thoughtit would be a great adventure, crossing the sea. But we were crowdedonto boats like so much cattle and not even a breath of fresh airmanaged to find its way down to our dark hole deep within theship."

Sara wrote of leaving behind a beloved Grandmother: "How can I goon without Nana? I will never again be able to hear her wonderfulstories of growing up on the farm. I've only now begun to do wellwith my embroidery. She was going to show me more stitches. I wantedto make her proud of me. Mother will have little time for such thingsin a new place. She is so tired now, always. I fear she will be ill.And Nana will never see me complete my lace."

Timothy described arriving in the city itself: "I have never seensuch a place, dreamed of such a place. The streets are endless andcrowded, the houses stacked tall and narrow without the tiniest spaceof green. Everything is constant movement. I was nearly run down by awagon because I was pushed off the walkway by an elbowing crowd. Itis exciting and yet frightening to be here."

Each of the students had been eager to share their perspectivesand the class had gone far over its usual limit of time. Diana hadbeen entranced by the figure of Vincent in all this. He had quietlyretreated to the role of observer as Samantha helped the childrenshare their insights with one another, only occasionally interjectinga remark.

His support, Diana noted, was careful but unobtrusive, allowingSamantha full responsibility for the continuous flow of thediscussion. The young girl truly had a gift for teaching, a true lovefor sharing knowledge. Diana could easily see that in her.

She could see as well the justifiable pride in Vincent's eyes atthe girl's triumph, even catching a gentle misting in them at onepoint. It caught a lump in Diana's throat.

Finally Jeffrey came into the room to look for absent members ofthe noontime lunch brigade. He was greeted by a chorus of jubilationfor the fact that the meal would soon be served, but reluctance, too,from the youngsters who had kitchen duty for the day.

Samantha brought her class to a close by collecting the journalentries from her students. "Don't forget we are going to talk aboutimmigrant neighborhoods on Tuesday. See if you can find anydescriptions of traditions that were continued here in the newcountry, ways that the immigrants in the new land kept their tieswith their homeland alive."

The children were dismissed and left the room, chatting aboutideas for their assignment as well as plans for the upcoming weekendlull in their routines. When they were all gone, Samantha threw herarms up into the air and let out a relieved and delighted, "Yes!"

Vincent came to his feet and enclosed the girl in a happy embrace."You did wonderfully well, Samantha. You made the children think andfeel, and they were able to beautifully translate those thoughts andemotions to words. It was an excellent lesson plan."

Diana added her praise as well. "You are a natural teacher,Samantha. I think your students very much enjoyed your project. Itmade the history come alive for them, and it helped them exercisetheir writing skills as well."

A bit of a surprised smile lit Vincent's face at the sound ofDiana's words, as he appreciated her own insights into the teachingprocess. He had long thought the young police woman thoroughlycapable of influencing those around her for the good, understandingwith extraordinary ease what is needed to motivate and support.Vincent decided then and there that Diana would have much to offerthe community that was his family. She could very easily become ateacher; she'd already taught him so much. Even things he was tooafraid to learn about himself.

Samantha accepted Diana's generous hug and then laughed. "I was sonervous, but I really enjoyed myself, too," came her modest reply. "Iactually can't wait until Tuesday."

Reaching over to his pile of books and lesson plans on the smalltable in front of him, Vincent retrieved a well-worn volume,carefully. He held it out to Samantha.

"Such a special accomplishment deserves a special remembrance.This is for you, Samantha."

The young girl's eyes filled with wonder, yet she noticeablyhesitated to accept the book held out to her. "Your copy of JaneEyre? Vincent, I couldn't possibly take this from you."

A powerful, tender hand enfolded a smaller one gently over thebook. "I wish you to have it. It is your favorite. Read what I'vewritten for you."

The look of pure adoration that filled the apprentice teacher'sface was breathtaking. Diana felt her heart clamor at the revelationof innocent, pristine devotion. Samantha let her gaze settle finallyback onto the book and opened the front cover, reading silently for amoment. She swallowed hard, then quietly shared the inscriptionaloud. "To Samantha, ever teaching minds to wonder and hearts tosoar. On the completion of her first student classes. May our worldalways be brightened by your instruction. -- Vincent "

Without hesitation, Samantha threw her arms round about thepowerful figure before her. "Thank you, Vincent. I'll try to meetyour expectations, always."

A gentle caress over the girl's braided hair spoke volumes. Still,her own teacher graced her with a few more words. "You'll only needto meet your own expectations to soar, Samantha. Remember that. Now,you'd better get ready for lunch. We've kept William waiting longenough."

A sweet smile radiated over Samantha's face. Then she directed ahappy greeting to Diana and was gone through the doorway of the room,hugging the book to her joyfully.

"She is such an extraordinary young lady," Diana said, admirationeasily tinging the words.

"With our world's future in her very capable hands. She will dowell. And she will be happy."

The words were unexpectedly wistful. Diana questioned softly, "Thebook is special to you?" as she took note of a sudden... shadowing...of her companion's features, only a moment ago so warm with pride andcaring.

Vincent looked deeply into Diana's face for a minute, then let asigh escape him. As he responded, he kept his attention on the shinysurface of the table before him, tracing the pattern of the inlaidwood with his finger, unconsciously.

"It was the story we were working on just before I became -- ill.When I could no longer conduct classes, I asked Samantha to."

Diana bit down on her lip in anger, berating herself silently forprobing and again causing the spirit-battered man before her, pain.She had no idea, again, that she had ventured into the anguish of histormented memories. Would she ever be able to help him heal, insteadof continually subjecting his wounds to scrutiny that only made themmore unbearable?

But, this time, Vincent seemed willing to continue speaking abouthis pain, and Diana breathed a silent prayer of gratitude for hismomentary hold on the instant.

"I gave her the book then, to use for the classes. She alwaysunderstood the story so well, took it to heart so easily. Her wordsalways helped inspire the other students."

Of course a tender-hearted young lady such as Samantha would havefound kinship in such a story, Diana found herself thinking. JaneEyre's true love was a tormented older man she couldn't seem to beable to reach with the healing richness of her heart, until tragedystruck. It seemed that Samantha and Diana were fated to the samepainful destiny as the literary heroine.

"Her face was the last one I could still recognize. The sight ofher standing in the tunnel, clutching that book, fighting back tears,for me, was the last conscious memory I have of that time, before Iwas plunged... into darkness."

The powerful man whose very presence seemed to fill the entireroom suddenly became the embodiment of burdened, painful memory. Heseemed, visibly, to falter under the weight. Diana felt as though shewere seeing him as Samantha must have that terrifying moment: a soulshe would give her own to help, but knowing she could do nothing toremove the pain.

"By the time Catherine reached me, I was no longer able to findmyself. I no longer even knew her."

There was a long pause before either of them trusted their abilityto speak further. Diana's mind raced even as her heart snapped at thepalpable sorrow visible in Vincent's stooped figure. He seemedsuddenly so desperate, so willing to remember anguish, where just afew moments ago he had rejoiced with Samantha's accomplishments. Whythe change in his spirit? Diana prayed that she could find the rightwords to reach him with.

"'Though they sink through the sea, they shall rise again.'" shespoke almost in a whisper.

Vincent responded in his heart, the words still too painful to bebreathed aloud. "'Though lovers be lost, love shall not.'" He visiblyfought with his inner self to regain some semblance of balance, somereconnection to the hope and promise he had felt with his belovedpupil. Forcefully he pulled himself past the memories into thepresent. And met eyes so full of love and concern that he found somemeasure of strength once again.

"Diana, do you feel up to leaving this room for a bit today?"

The question was so far removed from the pain of a minute ago thatthe young woman wasn't certain she had heard the inquiry correctly.She repeated it aloud to be sure. "Leave the room?"

Before she knew what was happening or why, Vincent had steppedover to her side and carefully lifted her up into his arms. If shehadn't been so startled by the abrupt change in his mood, she wouldhave noticed that his eyes still carried the burden of memory.

"I thought you could use a change of scenery by now."

Settled against his massive chest, Diana fought to keep her heartfrom trembling wildly. Their last encounters with physical closenesshad both terrified and blessed them with heart-stopping tendernessand frightening confusion. Diana was in danger of slipping back intothat bewildering mindset at the realization she was now totallyengulfed by his arms, his long, golden hair lying silky against hercheek and over her own limbs gone around his neck, the muscles of hisbody tightening with his movements, discernible even beneath thelayers of woolen clothing.

She fought to remain within reason and logic, but pure emotionthreatened to wash completely over her, drawing along with it thebreathtaking sensuality she could lose herself in so willingly, thatached to bind her to the mythic presence that now carried her soeasily in his embrace. Yet, Vincent seemed totally unaffected,perhaps purposefully so, his demeaner only casual and completely incontrol. He could have been carrying Jacob in distracted familiarity,for all his reaction to having her near and intimately within hisarms. Diana managed only to reply with halting anxiousness, "Yes,that would be -- a nice -- idea. A change of scenery -- would do megood."

Before she was able to give their situation a coherent analysis,they were heading down the tunnels and away from the common areas.Towards, God only knew, what additional anguish of heart awaited themboth.

The roar of the Falls was softened by the angle of the rock cliffthey were up against. Diana attempted to keep her attention fully onthe sound and off the fact that she could see little but open airbeyond her legs. Heights hadn't inordinately bothered her in thepast; indeed in her work she'd occasionally found herself inprecarious locations with only her wits, courage, and a whisperedprayer to keep her safe. But at the moment, she had absolutely nocontrol over their descent along the steep path down from theledge.

She pressed her head up against Vincent's shoulder, closed hereyes, and swallowed. He took in her momentary panic and reassured herwith an almost mischievous glint in his own eyes, made even moredeeply blue by the relatively bright light of the cavern. "Don'tworry. I won't drop you."

"And you won't slip, stumble, or fall, either, I'm sure," came theautomatic reply.

"Where is your trust, Diana?" The gentle rebuke was surprising toher. Up until now, she had always been the one to admonish him,attempt to reassure him in his struggles to reclaim his life in aworld without Catherine. Now she actually had placed her life intohis hands. There was no reason to fear, however, she admitted toherself. He would never subject her to the slightest hint ofdanger.

They reached a level area even with the river itself after a fewmoments of descent. The rocky shelf widened out to a sandy bank thathugged the water's edge for some distance. Near the water itself,seated on a thick blanket, were Rebecca and Jacob.

Vincent called out a greeting. "I'm sorry we kept you waiting,Rebecca. Our class was quite reluctant to give up its discussion thismorning."

"Then Samantha did well. I'm so happy for her. As for keeping us,Jacob and I have been having a wonderful visit."

Hardly burdened by her weight in the least, Vincent came down tohis knees on the blanket and smoothly set Diana down in front of himto lean up against some rocks. Jacob greeted her immediately with achorus of "Dina's" in his sweet baby voice. Rebecca scooped the childup in a gay, swinging motion and settled him on Diana's lap with asmile.

"The light actually feels warm today. It must be sweltering,Above. I'll be getting back, now."

"You won't join us?" The question was a bit more hopeful thanpolite.

The young woman smiled at Vincent and shook her head at hisinvitation. For all his strength and power, the vulnerability withinhis spirit was what endeared him to her more than anything else, eversince they were children together. But, Rebecca felt as though herdear friend had initiated something he wasn't quite certain he wascapable of seeing through. She also concluded that she needed toallow him to find his own way in this all. It could mean the tiniestspark of hope in a life plunged in darkness for so long.

"Thank you for the invitation, but it's my turn to supervise lunchclean up today. Hope you enjoy your meal. I'll be back before 2:00 tohelp you return."

With a final tickle to Jacob's tummy, Rebecca retreated back upthe narrow path.

Diana suddenly realized that the entire expedition had beenplanned out before hand and was not the spontaneous decision she hadbelieved it to be. That knowledge made the whole situation infinitelymore complex. She wasn't certain if she should be anxious, overjoyed,or intrigued.

Vincent seemed not to notice her confusion. Instead, he simpleasked, "Would you care to have lunch now, or would you rather wait abit?" Up against the rocks was a small, old-fashioned picnic hamperof wicker. Diana smiled at the discovery, the feeling of warmexpectation filling her with comfort, and hope. A moment later shereplied, only half in jest, "I'd be happy to eat as soon as mystomach joins us down here. Maybe it would be better for us to wait alittle."

Giving Jacob his hand, Vincent replied apologetically, "I'm sorryI didn't warn you before about our destination." His little boyeagerly pulled himself up to his feet while holding on to hisfather's hand. "If you are willing to wait, then, I believe Jacob isrequiring my attention."

Indeed, the little boy was fairly racing across the blanket,support only by the slight touch of his father's steadying hand. Anda tumble of baby words enlivened the conversation, the foremost onebeing "wata."

"Go right ahead," Diana replied, her uncertain circumstancesbrightened by the opportunity of sharing their time with thechild.

Vincent walked the little boy over the sandy expanse for a dozenfeet or so and stopped at the edge of a small pool scoured out by theriver current. He sat by the little pond cross-legged and settled hisyoung son onto his legs, slipping the child's shoes off his feet. Themoment the shoes came off, the kicking began, as little limbs defiedconfinement.

It took Vincent a long moment before he was able to capture thechild's legs again and retrieve socks that had, by now, slippedalmost free of their own volition. Diana couldn't help but laughoutright at the mismatched wrestling contest. The larger participantwas surely not winning the battle. And the unfamiliar, rich tones ofVincent's laughter warmed her heart.

Finally freed of both shoes and socks, Jacob clambered over hisfather's legs, heading straight for the water at a fast crawl.Vincent made a big show of halting the child's progress. "Oh no youdon't, little one. You can't get those trousers wet. Just a minute."Even the usual formal elegance of his speech had changed in theinteraction with his son, Diana was pleasantly surprised to find.

Jacob finally conceded that he was not going swimming with hispants on and let his father have them for safe-keeping. Once in thewelcome freedom of his diaper and shirt, the little boy sat at theedge of the pool's bank and slipped his legs into the water. A squealwas immediate, as the temperature of the water was anything butcomfortable to only the hardiest of souls. Yet, the community Belowhad long since become accustomed to their lack of heated water andtook it all in stride. It merely meant a plunge in the river would bethat much shorter, and that much more stimulating.

Vincent wrapped his arm around his son and let him lean againstit. Safely supported by his father, the child graced him with a lookborn solely of boyish impishness, and began a furious kicking battlewith the surface of the water, raising a flood that engulfed hisfather leaning over him as well. The powerful man was reduced tobegging for mercy from the young water sprite even as he wasthoroughly doused.

"I think you're losing, Vincent," Diana called out, heaping insultupon the situation easily. Vincent swept his dripping hair gracefullyoff his face with a shake of his head, and turned to his secondtormentor.

"I should have known you'd encourage his efforts," came theaccusation.

"Only trying to nurture Jacob's healthy physical activity."

"Yes, at my expense."

Turning his attention back to the child who had momentarily quithis flailing in the water, Vincent reached his free hand down intothe pond and gently began to splash the little boy's limbs. Thetables were now turned in the water fight, and Jacob quickly pulledhimself up out of the water, trying to hide his bare, and thusvulnerable, legs, from his father. A bout of tickling ensued, whichended only when Vincent was left suspiciously sprawled on the groundwith Jacob climbing over him in laughing triumph.

The entire episode of play had transfixed Diana as she watched.She had always noted Vincent's generous affection for his child,indeed, for all the youngsters Below, and the exchanges she hadwitnessed before between him and Jacob had been easy and warm. But,she sensed that this was a special place for them, a place of freehopefulness, graced by the relatively bright light of a mysteriouslyreflected sun they could never truly share in the world Above.

That light's revelation caught at her heart.

She had always been used to seeing Vincent in the softly glowing,candlelit chambers of his world. The shadows of that world seemedalways to keep him an indistinct figure of mystery, slightlyunapproachable. Here in the brightest light of his home, the realityof his presence was enough to make Diana's heart ache, at theinjustice of the limits placed around his soul. At the yearning needto rest beside his ravaged heart.

Vincent was drying Jacob off with a small cotton blanket Rebeccahad brought down with them, that he had tucked into the back pocketof his jeans when he'd brought the child to the water's edge. Dianafelt herself transported, unexpectedly, to the hospital chamber aweek ago, as she watched the powerful figure bending over to care forthe small boy. Then, she had been the recipient of Vincent's gentleministrations. But, unlike the feelings of shelter and protection shewas certain Jacob must be experiencing with his father's tender care,her own heart had been left breathless, vulnerable, and revealed withhis slightest touch.

As she held him in her attention while he made his child morecomfortable, Diana suddenly felt Vincent's essence deep within her,reaching out to her with unerring need. He was drying the child offcarefully, but his eyes were now locked with hers, his gazepenetrating far beyond her hastily constructed defenses.

It was as though he knew what she was feeling, truly knew, whatshe was thinking, dreaming, praying.

And far from being unaffected as he earlier had seemed to be, hewas unbelievably touching to her unsteady heart with breathlesscommunion, willing her, and himself, to see what could be possible ina world of light.

Even if he was still only capable of enduring life in the mutedshadows of grief and regret.

When his gaze finally left hers, Diana let a ragged breath escapeher. She had even stilled her breathing at the spiritual caress,without realizing it. Closing her eyes a moment, she forced herselfto steady her heart, remembering his pain that morning after class,praying that she should never be the cause of any more of it in hisso tested existence.

Still, when she let her attention settle shakily upon him onceagain, Diana found she had made little progress in her attempt todisguise her heart from him: with Jacob safely dried, warmed, andsettled back into his clothes, Vincent had taken the small cloth forhis own use, running it over his dampened hair.

The light in the cavern was miraculously bright, and it fairlyglinted in the drops of water still clinging to the heavy silk of hishair. Freed from the shadows of the tunnels, it's color was closer toburnished gold than she'd ever realized. And unsheltered by his cloakand the dark, indistinct half-light of his world, his figure seemedsuddenly rooted more in reality... powerful and tall, yes, but slim,too, and young. The face that was so unique and mysterious in theshadows became more lovingly familiar... cheekbones and brows thataccentuated eyes the color of a bright summer sky, the fainteststubble along the jaw line that invited a touch, a mouth thatpromised tantalizing sweetness...

"I should have stayed drier if I would have taken this littleurchin completely in for a swim."

Vincent's voice close beside her startled Diana from her thoughts.She hadn't noticed he and Jacob had returned to the large blanketbeside her. It was impossible for her to hold his eyes now.

"Well, he didn't exactly drown you, and I believe you enjoyed thatas much as he." Diana reached out for the little boy as she spoke, alittle too casually, needing to root herself to the present, and thelimits of what was possible, for a moment.

"Yes, I must admit, I don't mind the occasional frolic with Jacobhere. It's a special place for us, with a special freedom."

As he spoke, Vincent, too, found it difficult to keep the youngwoman's ethereal features within his gaze. There was too much achingtenderness there, too much he would have wished to touch with morethan his empathic care. Defensively, he reached to the picnic hamperWilliam had packed and began to pull its contents out onto theblanket they were sitting on.

Diana felt the unbearable tension between them too, and fixed herawareness to the bounty of the basket as well, commenting on thegreat cook's generosity for their lunch. There were cold chickensandwiches on dark wheat bread, a tub of salad, sliced peaches, and asmall bowl of leftover apple cobbler. A pitcher of iced tea wasflavored with lemon slices, too. Jacob's lunch was carefully packedinto a compartmented dish: small cubes of chicken, cooked greenbeans, a small soft white roll, and his own portion of the fruit,plus his cup of milk in a plastic tumbler. Even the unusual abundanceof the meal seemed to speak against their ability to keep theirsituation firmly planted in reality: It had been carefully packed bythe cook to compliment and support what he deemed to be a perfectturn in his friends' experiences of one another.

Diana continued her observations in a forced lightheartedness,acutely aware that Vincent had not even begun eating, keeping hisattention suddenly focused on the great falls far down in the cavern."I can't believe how light it is down here," she remarked, attemptingto draw him back from wherever it was his heart had lead him. Shehelped Jacob settle down to the blanket and put his meal withinreach. The little boy quickly became engrossed with picking up eachand every piece of his food singly and with great observant patience.Vincent at last poured the iced tea into a glass and handed it toDiana.

"It's almost like being out in the sunshine," she continuedquietly, reaching for the glass.

"But, it is only reflected light," came Vincent's reply. Themelancholy tone to his voice made the woman before him suddenly stopin mid-movement for her drink. Diana rebuked herself silently again.No matter how bright the circumstances surrounding him, no matter howmany times he attempted to give his heart momentary rest, no matterhow she longed to bring him comfort and release from his pain, itbecame apparent to Diana that his anguish was still just beneath thesurface of his day to day existence, still so raw, still claiming allhis hope.

The tenderness he had so pleadingly reached out to her was onlyanother proof of his pain, a mercy he'd never be able to trulyclaim.

She knew he would never burden her, yet, there was something abouthim today that was drawing her to him hesitantly, not seeking thatheartstopping sweetness seemingly destined never to be fulfilled, butyearning, instead, for some sort of direction, some anchor. Somepeace. She would not let the opportunity pass. Somehow she had tobring him that peace. Even at the cost of her own.

"Reflected light can be as nurturing as true sunlight," sheobserved, perfectly aware that their topic of discussion had nothingwhatever to do with the climatic wonders of this world below ground."Some very beautiful flowers can flourish in the fringes of light.They only need a little extra care and patience, and the belief thatthey will thrive."

Vincent held her gaze an instant, then settled his attention onthe wicker basket in front of him, its rhythmic pattern of weavingdenoting order and completeness. There was little of either virtueavailable to him these past months, he knew. "With that sort ofvision, Diana, you would be able to turn this rocky expanse into agarden."

"That sort of vision is what built this community, isn't it? Thatsort of vision will make it the wondrous, supportive world your sonwill grow up in."

Looking up at the sound of Diana's unmistakable rebuke, Vincentslowly shook his head. "I'm afraid that vision has placed itselfbeyond my reach."

"Then you will have to let someone help you find your way to itfrom another point in your life."

For all her fragile, other-worldly presence, Vincent found himselfmarveling once again at the uncompromising strength of spirit theyoung woman was possessed of. It was as if she were daring him tohope in life again.

If only it could be so simple. If only he could take hold of theoutstretched had she'd been long offering him and let her slender,willowy frame support his heavily burdened one. She would beperfectly capable of doing so, he knew. Even if she should stumbleunder the weight, she would be able to steel her resolve and lift himto her heights of hope.

But there was still so much weighting him down, so much she couldbelieve in that only brought him memory of terror and pain. How heached to move past that reality, ached to reach that place, with her.Not even Catherine had seen what Diana now was capable of hoping for,believing in with every fiber of her being. Oh, it was so enticing,reaching for that hope, taking hold of the totality of Diana's beliefin him. Yet, he knew the awful truth.

"Jacob enjoys his time Above with you." The words were simpleacknowledgment as Vincent helped his child retrieve the last of hisskittering peach slices from his plate. At least he could tell herhow grateful he was for her loving shelter of his son's tinysoul.

Diana responded from her heart. "It is the best time of my entireweek. I look at him, so eager to embrace the world, I hear him laugh,I watch him explore and wonder, and it makes me feel as though thereis still good and brightness in the world."

"You have given him so much, Diana. I can only burden his spiritwith my own anguish." Vincent threw his head back to look up into theheights of the cavern. His vision seemed to pass easily beyond therocky confines of his world, searching for some less substantial, butno less longed for, world of brightness.

"I would give anything to walk, just once, in the sunshine Abovewith my child, to lie on the grass and pick out shapes in the cloudsoverhead, to point out the night stars, tell him their stories, andhelp him feel a part of the sky."

Diana could not trust herself to speak again. The words she hadjust heard were the most despondently painful she realized Vincenthad yet spoken to her, since he'd stood in the sunlight of herapartment, healing physically, and bleeding his loss of Catherine toher in a cascade of quiet torment. The words were desperately lonely,devoid of spirit, and torn from a heart beyond her tender powers toresurrect.

Vincent felt himself enshrouded by a cold darkness that challengedthe bright warmth of their surroundings. Jacob, then, caught hisattention, with a look of pleading confusion that further tormentedhis tested soul. In his own profound pain, he had unwittingly causedthe child to experience a sudden fathomless anxiety in his own littleheart, the bond between father and child channeling his emotionrelentlessly.

Reaching over to his son, Vincent immediately gathered him close,stroking his curling halo of hair and rocking him gently to hischest. The tears were visible in his eyes, yet he would not let themfall, lest he further trouble the child. "I'm sorry, Jacob, mysweetest gift. I've caused you pain. Forgive me."

The little boy lifted his hand to his father's cheek. "Fada?" hequestioned, his otherworldly blue eyes clinging fast to the face heloved as no other. Vincent attempted to reassure the child with thebarest, most hard-fought trace of a smile, but he couldn't hold theangelic gaze for long. It hurt too much.

Diana pulled herself over closer to his side and rested her handonto his shoulder. "What is it, Vincent? What is causing you so muchpain today?"

"Jacob will be... a year old... tomorrow."

The tears that stung Diana's eyes were flooding over her in aninstant. Sweet Jesus! She had completely lost track of time Below,for her own reasons, to be sure. She never wanted to have to returnAbove, to leave Vincent's side and stumble thr aily existence thatheld no more promise to her.

Yet, time had not stood still. Two weeks had passed since she'dbecome stranded Below. Tomorrow was September 21, the first day ofautumn.

The day Jacob had been born.

The day Catherine had died.