She'd thought Father's party would take place after the eveningmeal, but instead, William and what must have been an army ofassistants prepared platter after platter of above-style hors'doerves, cold cuts, fresh vegetables and fruits. The sumptuous arraywas a far cry from usual tunnel fare; Catherine suspected Peter'slargesse was behind it.

"Of course," he confirmed later, after he'd enveloped her in atight bear hug. He'd held her for an inordinate amount of time andwhen he released her, his eyes were suspiciously moist. "This is atime for celebration." He looked down. "And who is this youngman?"

Nicholas, seized with a fit of shyness, shuffled back behind her.Vincent drew him out with a gentle hand on his shoulder. "This isNicholas," he said, his voice filled with quiet pride. "Nicholas, canyou say how do you do to Peter?"

Nicholas shrank back and shook his head timidly.

Peter crouched down in front of him and offered a disarming smile."Did you know," he said, conversationally, "that I knew your motherwhen she was your age?"

Nicholas shook his head.

"In fact, I was there when she was born," Peter went on, his eyestwinkling.

"Peter." Catherine thought she saw what was coming, and put allthe warning she could muster into her voice.

Peter grinned and held his hands about a foot and a half apart."She was only this big," he said.

Nicholas looked at her as if trying to imagine her that small."Really?" he asked cautiously.

"Really," Peter confirmed. "And I'll tell you something else."

"Peter!"

He ignored her. "She was all red, and yelling like somebody'dstuck her with a pin. You could hear her all over the hospital."

That did it. Nicholas broke into a wide smile and tugged at herhand. "Did you really, Mommy?"

"I don't know, Nick," she told him fondly. "I can't remember. Canyou remember when you were born?"

His brow puckered for a moment, and he shook his head.

"Well, I'm not surprised," Peter said. "My job is helping babiesto be born, and none of them ever remembers it afterwards. I supposethey're just too small."

Nicholas nodded agreement. "I was too small," he confirmed, andlooked up. "Mommy, did Peter help me be born, too?"

Catherine shook her head and stole a glance at Vincent. He stoodstolidly, arms folded now that Nicholas had gotten over hisunaccustomed shyness, watching. "No, Nick. He wasn't there."

"Oh." Nicholas lost interest as Olivia and Kanin entered thechamber. "Look, Mommy," he said. "That's Luke. He let me play withhis truck."

Catherine looked. Luke, who'd been barely toddling last time she'dseen him, now came to Olivia's waist. He must be five now, sheguessed. "I remember," she said to Nicholas. "Do you want to go sayhi?"

He nodded and darted across the room. Vincent glanced her way, asif asking permission, and followed.

The room was filling rapidly. When it seemed that everyone hadarrived, Father made his way to the center of the room and thumpedhis cane on the stone floor for silence. The babble of voices diedobediently.

"As I'm sure you're all aware," he began a bit pompously, "we'rehere to welcome Catherine back to our community. And to celebrateNicholas's presence among us. Though he's a bit old for a namingceremony, don't you think?"

Onlookers chuckled politely at his small joke. Nicholas, acrossthe chamber and perched on Vincent's arm, whispered something intohis daddy's ear; Vincent listened intently for a moment and thenwhispered a reply.

"We want you to know, Catherine," Father continued, "how very gladwe are to have you return to us safely." He crossed the floor andbent to give her a ceremonious kiss on the cheek. "Welcome home."

He retreated and Catherine was deluged with an onslaught ofwellwishers. Peter remained staunchly at her side and she wasgrateful for his presence as she was greeted effusively and shyly byturns. As with Luke, it was the children who surprised her the most.It was one thing to understand that more than three years had passed,but quite another to find herself greeting Samantha, poised andlovely at sixteen, to look up at Kipper, now taller than she.Geoffrey, whom she remembered as a shy ten year old, was gangly andawkward, with arms and legs that seemed to go on forever. Hisfreckles and his sweet smile were the same, though, and she greetedhim warmly.

"I'm glad you're back," he said, blushing furiously in the wake ofthe hug she'd given him. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too, Geoffrey," she said. "You're what, thirteennow?"

"Fourteen next week," he said. "I saw your little boy over therewith Vincent." He pointed. "He's cute."

"Thanks. Is Vincent getting him something to eat?"

"I think so." He glanced at her empty hands. "Did you eat yet? Icould get you a plate..."

Catherine had been too busy fielding warm welcomes to think ofeating, but at Geoffrey's mention of food, she was suddenly ravenous."Would you? I'd be grateful."

"Sure." She watched him cross the room with a confidence hewouldn't have had three years ago, then sighed and turned to greetthe next well-wisher.

But instead, Mary stood there. "I've run them all off," sheannounced. "You need a moment to gather yourself, Catherine. Come sitdown."

Catherine sank gratefully into the offered chair. "Thank you,Mary. It's lovely to have been missed, but it is wearying, aswell."

"Of course it is," Mary agreed. "Has anyone thought to bring yousomething to eat?"

"As a matter of fact, Geoffrey just offered to get me a plate. Thechildren amaze me," she admitted, as Mary pulled her own chair close."They've grown so. Changed."

"We've all changed, Catherine," Mary said. "Time does that to allof us."

"Yes, I suppose it does," Catherine reflected. "I wonder what it'sdone to me."

Mary regarded her thoughtfully. "You're more tense than you usedto be. Wary, almost. You watch the entrances, the people." Shesmiled. "And it's nearly killing you to have Nicholas on the otherside of the chamber."

"I'm used to him being within arm's length," Catherine admittedwith an embarrassed laugh. "I know he's safe with Vincent, but partof me can't help wondering how I'd get to him if we had to get outfast."

"Habits are hard to break," Mary said. "I know. But you're safehere, Catherine. Ah, here's Geoffrey with your dinner."

"I didn't know what you liked," Geoffrey said, placing a steamingplate in her lap. "So I got you some of everything. And a napkin andsome silverware and some lemonade."

"That's perfect, Geoffrey. Thank you." Only when he was safely outof earshot did she lean toward Mary in dismay. "What'll I do?" sheasked, pitching her voice low so it wouldn't carry. "I couldn't eatthis much in two meals!"

Mary glanced at the heaping plate and smiled. "He's a growingboy," she said. "With a growing boy's appetite. He'd wolf that downand go back for seconds. Eat what you can, Catherine, and don't worryabout the rest."

"But the waste!"

"There's no help for it. If you put any of it back, it would hurtGeoffrey's feelings. Besides, our helpers sent so much food for this,we're in danger of the excess spoiling before we can use it up.Please, don't worry." She smiled. "If it will make you feel better,we'll offer it to Mouse, for Arthur."

The thought of some of William's best dishes ending up as Arthur'sdinner was mildly appalling, but Mary was right; she couldn't hurtGeoffrey by rejecting what he'd brought. Bravely, she picked up herfork and dug in.

Whether by tacit agreement or because she had finally spoken witheveryone present, the press around her eased and the others begantalking and mingling among themselves. Peter had excused himselfhalfway through, murmuring something unintelligible, but he returnedas she set her plate, still half-full, aside.

"Sorry, Cathy," he apologized. "For weeks I've been meaning tospeak with Jacob about his supply of antibiotics, and I was afraid,if I didn't do it right then, I'd forget again."

"It's fine, Peter," she assured him. "Geoffrey brought mesomething to eat, and Mary sat with me."

"And now that you're back, Peter, it's past time for the childrento be in bed." Mary bustled off, calling the younger children byname.

Peter sank into the vacated chair. "I am sorry, Cathy," heapologized again. "Are you having a good time?"

Her shrug was noncommittal. "It's good to see so many old friendsand acquaintances," she said. "But draining."

"You've had a long, stressful day," Peter sympathized.

Catherine nodded agreement. "There's nothing I'd like better rightnow than to tumble into bed and sleep twelve hours," she admitted."But I'm the guest of honor here. It would be rude to duck outearly."

"Not at all," Peter said firmly. "You've been through a greatdeal, Cathy. No one expects you to exhaust yourself for the sake ofform." He turned and snagged one of the children walking by. "Jason.Run get Vincent for me, will you?"

The boy, no more than eight, with shaggy dark hair shielding waryeyes, nodded and hurried across the chamber like a broken-fieldrunner, dodging people in his path.

A moment later he returned with Vincent, Nicholas half-asleep onhis shoulder, in his wake. "Here," the boy announced with the air ofone who's performed a tedious duty.

"Thank you, Jason," Peter said, and grinned at Vincent as the boymoved off into the crowd. "One of these days he'll get into thespirit of helping," he said. "We hope."

"Jason's life has been difficult," Vincent replied. "He's doingwell. What did you need, Peter?"

"Cathy's exhausted," Peter answered. "As her physician, I'msending her off to bed, but I didn't think she'd go without him." Hepointed to the drowsy child on Vincent's shoulder.

Nicholas straightened abruptly, his eyes artificially wide. "Idon't want to go to bed," he announced. "I want to stay here."

"You were up late last night, Nicky," Catherine objected. "Youneed your sleep."

"But Mommy," he began, a tired whine creeping into his voice.

Motherly instinct kicked in and she stood up. "Sorry, Nick," shesaid. "You are going straight to bed."

"No!"

"Come," Vincent said, overriding them both. "Your mother's right,Nicholas. It has been a long and tiring day and you need yourrest."

Nicholas looked sullen, but Vincent's calm directive quelledfurther argument. Catherine made cursory goodbyes to those closeenough to notice their leaving, and hugged Peter tightly, with awhispered promise to spend time with him soon.

Vincent carried Nicholas to her chamber and set him down. Nicholaskept a firm hold of his hand. "Stay, Daddy," he ordered.

Catherine brought pajamas from a drawer. "Here, Nicky," she said."Let's get these on you."

"No!" he said, and squirmed away from her outstretched hands. "Iwant my daddy to do it."

Catherine let her hands drop. "All right," she acceded, with aglance at Vincent to be sure he was amenable. "Your daddy can helpyou."

She busied herself dampening a washcloth and putting a dab oftoothpaste on Nicholas's toothbrush, all the while listening to thevoices and occasional squeals of laughter from behind her. When sheturned, Nicholas was properly attired in his blue pajamas, his hairtousled from pulling the shirt over his head.

"Good boy," she praised him. "Now come brush your teeth. All ofthem," she reminded, as he took the brush and began to scrub at hisfront ones. "I'll wash your face when you're done."

Vincent observed all this in silence. When Nicholas's ablutionswere finished, he scampered across the floor and climbed into hissmall bed. "Tell me a story, Daddy," he demanded.

Vincent obligingly pulled a chair beside Nicholas's cot. Catherinesank onto the edge of her bed to listen.

"Once upon a time," he began, "these tunnels and chambers, thevery ones you see here, and all around you," his wide gesture took intheir surroundings, "were empty. No one lived here, and the smallestsounds made lonesome echoes against the rock. And then, oneday..."

Catherine listened as Vincent recounted the founding of his world.Nicholas was rapt, his eyes never leaving his father's face. "That'snice," he murmured, when the story ended. "I'm glad there are peoplehere now."

Vincent smoothed back his hair and planted a kiss on his brow. "Soam I, Nicholas. Sleep well..." he hesitated, his glance meeting hersfleetingly before he finished. "My son."

"'Kay," Nicholas agreed sleepily. "'Night, Daddy. Mommy? I need akiss."

Grateful he hadn't forgotten her entirely, Catherine moved forwardfor her own goodnight, kissing his cheek and tucking the blankets inaround him. "Good night, Nicky," she whispered. "I love you."

"...love you, too," he murmured, his eyes already closing.

She moved away quietly, to where Vincent waited.

"Catherine," he said, his voice colored with regret.

But she'd already known he wouldn't stay. She nodded inresignation. "I know, Vincent. I'll be all right."

He touched her cheek. "Will you?"

She lifted her chin and smiled. "Yes. I will. You forget, Nickyand I have been alone together for a long time now."

He flinched. "Catherine..."

"No," she said quickly. "I'm sorry. That's not what I meant. Ijust meant I'm used to it. I'm strong, Vincent. You know that. Youtaught me that. I'll be all right." She took his hand between both ofhers. "I needed you last night. Things were happening too quickly,and I needed you to anchor me. You did that, even though I know itwasn't comfortable for you, and I'm grateful. But I'm okay now."

The look he gave her was long and intense, but finally he noddedacceptance. "Yes," he agreed, and turned to go. At the chamber'sentrance, he paused.

She braced herself as he turned back.

"Catherine."

She waited.

"I know time has passed, and things are not as they were."

"No."

"But once, we would not have parted in this way." He lifted hishead and met her eyes. "Would it be too much to ask for a propergoodnight?"

His expression was wistful and a little uncertain.

"No," she whispered. "It's not too much to ask." He opened hisarms and she went to him, pressing her face into his shoulder, herarms tight around his waist. It felt like going home. She was sorrywhen he finally released her.

"Goodnight, Catherine," he said. "Sleep well."

For the second night in a row, Catherine's sleep was deep anddreamless, a vivid contrast to the restless, listening half-sleepshe'd adopted over the past years.

She woke to someone tugging on her arm. Nicholas knelt beside heron the bed.

"Wake up, Mommy," he said insistently. "It's morning. Wakeup."

She blinked at him groggily. "What?"

"It's morning," he repeated. "I want to get up."

"Oh." She sat up and rubbed at her eyes. "It doesn't feel likemorning, Nick."

"Yes, it does," he argued. "There are people outside. Listen."

She concentrated and indeed, the sound of muted voices carrieddown the passage outside the chamber. "Well, maybe it is morning,"she conceded. "Okay. I'm up."

She crossed to the basin and splashed water on her face. "How longhave you been awake?" she asked, groping for a towel.

"A long time. See? I already got dressed."

She lowered the towel and looked. Sure enough, he'd put on jeans,a t-shirt, and a sweater. His feet were bare, though, and hisdiscarded pajamas made a blue puddle on the floor.

"Very good. Now find some socks and put your pajamas away while Iget dressed."

"Okay," he said agreeably. "Hurry up."

"Hurry up, please?" she suggested gently.

"Hurry up, please," he repeated. "I'm hungry."

Catherine dressed quickly and made her bed. Nicholas pulled up theblankets on his cot; she didn't have the heart to discourage him bysmoothing out the wrinkles or straightening the covers so they didn'tdroop to the floor on one side.

"Ready?" she asked brightly.

His impatient scowl answered her.

"I want to thank you," she said as they walked toward the diningchamber, "for waiting for me this morning. I worry that you might getimpatient and wander off by yourself. I'm glad you didn't dothat."

He shook his head solemnly. "I won't. My daddy made mepromise."

"He did? When?"

"Yesterday. There are dangerous places here." He pronounced thelong word carefully, each syllable separate and distinct.

Catherine suppressed a smile. "Yes, there are," she agreed, tryingto match his solemnity. "Just like in Spokane, remember?"

"I couldn't go in the street," he recalled. "Because the carsmight run over me."

"That's right. Here, there are steep places where you might falldown, or places with lots and lots of rooms and tunnels where youcould get lost."

He nodded sagely. "My daddy told me."

They turned into the dining chamber. Most of the community hadalready eaten, but there were a few stragglers who looked up andsmiled a greeting.

Nicholas tugged at her sleeve. "Will my daddy be here?" hewhispered urgently.

"I don't think so, Nick. He probably ate his breakfast a long timeago."

"You talking about Vincent?" William asked from his place behindthe serving table. "He was in a couple of hours ago. They're changingthe ways again and he and Mouse have been planning a new kind offalse wall they wanted to test."

"Yes," Catherine confirmed. "He'll be gone all day, then."

"Most likely," William agreed. "Here, youngster, you want apancake?"

Catherine carried their plates to a nearby table; Nicholasfollowed with forks and napkins.

"Sit here, Nick," Catherine said. "You start on your pancakeswhile I go get us something to drink."

"Here," said an unfamiliar voice. "You look like you could usethis." A dark hand placed a steaming cup on the table. Catherinelooked up and met dark eyes shining from a dark face.

"Hello," she said, in surprise.

"You look like a coffee sort of person," the woman told her. Shesmiled at Nicholas. "And you look as if you'd enjoy a glass ofmilk."

Before he could answer, she produced one and set it before him.With a nod that might pass as sketchy thanks, he picked it up in bothhands and took a deep swallow.

"Thank you," Catherine said. "I'm sorry, I don't know yourname."

"I'm Natalie," the woman said. "Mind if I sit down?"

"Please." Catherine indicated a chair. "I'm Catherine, and this isNicholas."

"Oh, I know that," Natalie said airily.

"I suppose you do," Catherine said, embarrassed.

"You two are celebrities around here," Natalie said. "Everyoneknows you, everyone's talking about you."

Catherine glanced around the chamber. "You think so?"

"I know so. Don't worry, though. The excitement will die down soonand people will get used to you being here."

"I hope so," Catherine said. "Nicky, use your napkin."

Nicholas smeared a dribble of syrup across his chin. "Do you knowmy daddy?" he asked Natalie.

"Yes, I do," she answered him. "In fact, he asked me to watch outfor you today."

"He did?" Nicholas asked, in surprise. "Why?"

"Because I have a little boy," Natalie said. "His name's Brian,and he's only a little bit older than you are. He just turnedthree."

"Oh," Nicholas said. "I'll be three pretty soon. Next week, Ithink."

"In four weeks, Nick," Catherine corrected. His concept of timewasn't clear yet; to him, all future events were either "tomorrow" or"next week."

"Oh," he said. "Okay. Where is your little boy?" he asked ofNatalie.

"He's with his grandmother right now. She's watching him while Icome and talk to you."

Nicholas's gaze went to Catherine. "Do I have a grandmother?" heinquired.

"No, honey. My mother died when I was still a little girl, andnobody knows who your daddy's mother was."

"Oh." Nicholas frowned a little.

"You know what?" Natalie said, to distract him. "Vincent... yourdaddy... thought that maybe, if it's okay with your mother, you mightbe able to play with Brian today."

Nicholas's eyes lit up. "Can I, Mommy?"

"May I," she corrected automatically, and eyed Natalie carefully.The young woman seemed warm and open and generous in her welcome, butsomething inside Catherine stuck at the thought of sending Nicholasoff with her.

"You can come, too," Natalie said. "We can visit or something,while the boys play."

Catherine relaxed and permitted a smile. "I'd like that."

"My mama's Ruth," Natalie explained a few minutes later, leadingthe way down a long corridor.

"I remember Ruth," Catherine said. "From before. I didn't know hervery well. I didn't know she had children."

"Two of us," Natalie said. "Me and my brother David. David's anaccountant, of all things. Lives in Newark."

"Do you see him often?" Catherine inquired politely.

"Often enough," Natalie said. "He comes down three, four times ayear to visit us and his friends. And he never forgets Christmas, orMama's birthday."

They reached Ruth's chamber and went inside. Ruth was busy at atall loom set up in a corner of the chamber, but she stopped her workwhen they came in.

"Catherine," she said, and came forward to offer work-roughenedhands.

Catherine took them warmly. "Hello, Ruth. It's good to seeyou."

"Good to have you back, girl," Ruth answered. "Natalie and me, wesaw you last night, but you looked so tired, we just thought we'dwait and welcome you back some other time."

"I was tired," Catherine admitted. "But it was good to seeeveryone. I'm sorry I missed you."

Ruth gave a snort. "Don't you worry about it." She turned. "Brian!Get your things and come on, now. Your mama's here to get you."

A boy Nicholas's size with chocolate brown skin and soft, liquideyes bounded out from behind the loom. He stopped stockstill at sightof Nicholas.

"Brian, this is Nicholas," Natalie told him. "Are you ready to gohome?"

Brian nodded, his gaze still fixed on Nicholas, who staredback.

"Say goodbye to Grandma Ruth," Natalie prompted him.

"'Bye, Grandma," Brian said. "See you later."

"See you later, Brian."

Natalie and Catherine started out, herding the boys in front ofthem. From the sound, Ruth returned to her loom and the half-wovenblanket before they even reached the corridor. "My chamber's downjust a little way," Natalie explained. "Right in here."

Her chamber was larger than the one Catherine and Nicholas shared,with a carved wooden screen to partition off a large corner. "This ismy room," Brian told Nicholas importantly, and led him behind thescreen. "These are my toys."

"Wow," Nicholas said, from Brian's corner.

"You can play with this," Brian was heard to offer.

Natalie raised her eyebrows. "Sounds like they've decided to befriends," she said. "Want some coffee?"

Catherine had drunk only one cup with her hurried breakfast, andthe aroma coming from a battered tin pot steaming on a hot plate wastoo good to refuse. "I'd love some."

Natalie brought it in two thick mugs. "Sit down, please," sheinvited. "We'll talk."

Catherine sat at a small round table; Natalie took a seatopposite.

Catherine studied the other woman briefly. "I'm sorry," sheapologized, after a moment. "I keep thinking you look familiar, butif we've met, I don't recall it."

Natalie smiled. "Once. At Winterfest. I didn't live here then. Iwas going to college in Pennsylvania, but I came home for Winterfest.Always came home for Winterfest. That was before Brian," she addedmatter-of-factly. "When I found out about Brian, I thought myboyfriend would offer to marry me. Instead, he told me he was tooyoung to be a daddy. He quit school and moved away, and I haven'tseen him since."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I thought he was the kind of man I could spend my lifewith, but after what he did, I think I'm better off without him.Anyway, I have Brian."

"You gave up school?"

"Only temporarily. I came down here to have him, and I just neverwent back. Maybe I will, someday. Right now, Brian and I have a home,I'm with my mama. I'm useful here. I teach the children and help inthe nursery and the kitchen and the candle shop."

"I need to be useful, too," Catherine said. "I guess I should talkto Father about that."

"Mary would be better," Natalie advised. "Unless you want to goout on some of the work details like Jamie does, and fix leaky pipesand build new chambers and help change the ways."

Catherine smiled. "I think I'd prefer to stay closer to home," shesaid. "Besides, Nicholas needs me. I'll speak to Mary."

She waited while Natalie refilled their coffee cups and returnedto the table.

"You've known Vincent a long time," she observed.

"Since I was a little girl," Natalie confirmed. "He used tobabysit me and my brother sometimes when my mama had to go somewhere.I adored him."

"Then you know... what it was like for him." Catherine paused andswallowed hard. "When I was gone."

"These past three years? Yes." Natalie toyed with her cup. "He wasfrantic at first. He looked for you. He made all of us look for you.For months."

"Father told me that," Catherine whispered.

"We were all ready to give up months before Vincent gotdiscouraged," Natalie went on. "I'm sorry. We just... we were sureyou must be dead. We all felt badly for him. Hurt for him. But wewent through the motions because he needed us to. And because wedidn't want to give up and find out later we'd been wrong."

Catherine nodded faintly. "I can understand that."

"And then one day, Father said we could all return to our usualduties. No more scrambling to get the usual work done in our sparetime. He said we should stay alert, just in case something shouldcome up, but..."

"Yes. And Vincent?"

"Vincent still went topside every night. But he seemed to draw inon himself. It was almost as if he was smaller, diminished, you know?Like the spark inside of him had gone out. He even stoppedparticipating in our social activities."

"How do you mean?"

"Poetry readings, concerts, parties. Before, he was always there,in the thick of things. Helping plan, helping set up. Readingpassages from Shakespeare. But after you left, he started findingexcuses, thinking of reasons why he couldn't come. He even stoppedcoming to Winterfest. He said he wouldn't come until you were back.Until you could come with him."

"And he hasn't been back since?"

Natalie looked uncomfortable. "Well, not exactly. He missed threeyears. Wouldn't budge, no matter how much Father argued. And we allknow Father argued, especially the third year. But he came to thelast Winterfest. Last month." She frowned. "He stood on the side withhis arms folded and watched. Watching the dancing, mostly, with thishurt, wistful sort of look in his eyes. He left early, before thecircle, and we all wondered if he'd be able to come next year." Sheglanced at Catherine. "But I guess he will."

"I hope so," Catherine said softly. "I hope so."