Sunshine ~ Chapter Eight
By Rosemarie Hauer

Vincent could feel the gentle hum in his heart subside the farther they got away from the Crystal Cavern and the magical place where he had been allowed to glimpse perfection - even though only for a short span of time.

He struggled to concentrate on the warmth flowing into him through Catherine's hand which rested trustingly in his as they walked side by side. Although he sensed her eyes on him he didn't dare look at her. He didn't want her to see the tears burning in his eyes.

When they arrived at the campsite Rebecca and Joshua sat together over a steaming cup of tea. Joshua cocked his head in their direction and Vincent was aware of his fond scrutiny as they sat down at the fire, Joshua's eyebrows twitched slightly, but he didn't say a word. He just smiled at them warmly.

No one talked much and when breakfast was over, Joshua moved to clear the place and rinse the mugs. "Give me a hand here, Vincent, will you?" he asked as he picked up the dirty dishes and walked off toward the water.

Vincent caught Catherine's understanding look and gave her a reassuring nod before following his friend.

Joshua put down the mugs at the water's edge and turned to face Vincent. Vincent smiled at him tentatively. "This journey gave you peace," he observed.

Joshua smiled enigmatically. "Life tends to do funny things to us," he said without meeting Vincent's eyes. "I came here to expose my pain to the mysterious and healing atmosphere of this place only to find that in the last analysis the answers I've been seeking lie in the beauty of human hearts. But you already figured that out yourself, didn't you?" Vincent lowered his gaze and knelt to busy himself with the dishes.

"Don't evade me," Joshua coaxed gently. "What happened? Tell me."

Vincent swallowed. He wasn't sure how to talk around the lump forming in his throat, so he started vigorously scrubbing the plates. Finally he felt Joshua's hand on his shoulder.

"That bad?" he asked, causing Vincent to shake his head and smile.

"Then what?" Joshua prompted.

"I had no right to allow it to happen," Vincent replied quietly.

"It?" Joshua remarked, raising one eyebrow in mock puzzlement.

Vincent cast him an accusing glance, but then he smiled. "There was no way of knowing..." he began dreamily.

"Of course not," Joshua said, completely serious. "And Vincent, never question your right to love. No one simply allows love to happen. Love happens all of its own."

Vincent half-turned to look at his friend fondly. "What about you, Joshua? Did love happen to you?"

Joshua nodded slowly. "And like you I blamed myself for having allowed it to happen."

"Delia?" Vincent asked.

Sorrow passed over Joshua's face and consolidated in a deep crease on his forehead. "She was there for me at a time when I had lost everything. She gave me her love ... herself. I knew I had no right to take what she offered and yet I was helpless to resist the pull of desire. Desire for life itself."

Vincent's heart constricted at the memory of how sweet desire had tasted from Catherine's lips, how irresistible her skin had felt under his palms.

Joshua cast him an understanding look before he continued. "Delia gave me the courage to turn back to my heart and showed me what it is like to be human. I realized what a mistake it had been for me to become a priest."

"I'm certain you had your reasons when you made your decision," Vincent interjected.

Joshua shook his head. "I was arrogant enough to believe the love of human beings wasn't enough, that it must be God Himself whom I must love in order to reach the highest purpose in life. What I failed to see was that God loves through human hearts. It is not perfection we are supposed to achieve, but true warmth and caring." The thoughtful look Joshua cast in Rebecca's direction didn't go unnoticed by Vincent.

They sat together in silence for a while. Vincent found himself wondering how much of the arrogance Joshua had just mentioned might be the driving force behind his own actions. For the first time it occurred to him that the perfection he was striving so hard to achieve might be just an illusion.

"Tell me what's troubling you," Joshua said.

Vincent studied the backs of his hands while he searched for words. "I can't give her a real life," he murmured at last. "What we...had...is a dream - beautiful, incredible, breathtaking - but still only a dream."

"Says who?" Joshua interjected.

Vincent's only reply was a helpless shake of his head.

"Vincent, she loves you," Joshua reminded him. "You can't talk about loving her in past tenses. You're going to crush her heart."

Vincent threw back his head, releasing a groan. "I will do everything within my power to avoid that," he said hoarsely.

"What did you tell her?" Joshua asked.

"That we can...love only while we are here where the energy of the crystals prevents me from..."

"From beasting out?" Joshua suggested with provocative candor. ‘Vincent, do you honestly believe you could ever hurt her?"

Vincent shook his head no. "But I wouldn't want her to see me when

I...lose myself."

"Everyone loses themselves in lovemaking," Joshua pointed out patiently. "That's perfectly normal. Women are offended if you don't."

Vincent's head snapped up. "They are?" he asked incredulously.

"Why do you ask?" Joshua replied teasingly. "Did you 'offend' her last night?"

Vincent found himself smiling as he lowered his gaze. "I don't think so."

Joshua cast him a sidelong grin. "Good." When Vincent didn't respond, Joshua gave his shoulder a companionable clap and rose to his feet. "Let's go back. We'd better get started."

"You go ahead," Vincent suggested quietly. "I'll finish these first."

He turned to the task at hand and started cleaning the mugs and plates.

He was aware that Joshua studied him pensively for a long moment before he returned to the fireplace.

The walk back home was much more demanding than the other way around.

Everyone was tired and reluctant to leave that beautiful place behind them.

When they finally reached the last campsite, everyone was bone tired.

Catherine was completely exhausted and dropped gratefully onto her sleeping bag the moment she had unrolled it.

She must have dozed off for a moment, because she awoke to the clatter of the water kettle and mugs as Vincent prepared some tea. She looked around her and spotted Rebecca and Joshua sitting some distance away and talking quietly. She scrambled to her feet and joined Vincent as he prepared supper. She was dying to speak with him, but somehow the moment didn't seem right.

No one felt like talking as they ate supper and everyone seemed to be inclined to call it an early night. But despite her deep fatigue she couldn't find sleep. A thousand thoughts were spinning around in her head and she couldn't turn them off. Finally she got up and grabbed a lantern, hoping a small walk would calm her. By now she was familiar with some of the tunnels and passageways branching off the large cavern that held the campsite. She walked down to the river and it surprised her to find that the rushing sound of the water set her mind at peace.

She placed the lantern on the floor and sat down at the water's edge, closing her eyes.

"Bad dreams?" Joshua's voice startled her and she flinched. "I didn't mean to frighten you," came his apology and she turned her head to look up at him.

"I couldn't sleep," she explained wearily.

Slowly Joshua lowered himself onto the ledge next to her. "I can understand that you worry," he began. "Things are never easy with Vincent, because nothing's ever easy for him."

Catherine mulled Joshua's words over for a while. "What did Vincent tell you?" she asked finally.

Joshua smiled. "He didn't have to tell me anything."

Now it was her turn to smile. "Are we that obvious?"

Growing serious again, Joshua replied, "No, but I do know him well. When he and you returned to the campsite, he looked...changed. You both appeared to have changed. I can't explain what it was. It's just a feeling."

Catherine didn't know what to reply to that, so she asked, "What was he like...as a boy?"

Joshua looked up at the ceiling, gathering his thoughts before he replied, "Extraordinary, and not because of his outward appearance. He has always had that inner quality which makes you feel better when he is around. Without him - I don't think I would have become the person I am today."

"I can say the same thing about myself," Catherine murmured, "although I've come to know him only a short while ago."

"Are you sure about that?" Joshua said with a mysterious smile, raising one eyebrow at her.

Catherine shrugged uncertainly. "Sometimes I feel as if I had known him forever."

"Maybe you should listen to that feeling," Joshua suggested, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "And now you should try to get some sleep. We have quite a walk ahead of us tomorrow."

She nodded and they both rose. Joshua turned to precede her on their way back to the camp.

"Joshua?" He stopped and turned. "I'm glad you were there...with him...when he was young," she said.

He inclined his head and gave her a bright smile, and she couldn't help but think that the gesture was very much reminiscent of Vincent. She took his proffered hand and together they walked back.

Joshua cast Rebecca a tender look before he slipped into his sleeping bag and rolled onto his side. Catherine walked over to where Vincent was lying, fast asleep. He looked so tired and she suddenly felt guilty for having come on this trip. The responsibility, and being so close to her all the time, seemed to have cost him dearly, at least emotionally.

He moaned softly in his sleep and she reached down to smooth a strand of hair from his cheek, thinking how wonderful it would be if he were able to relax with her, to draw strength from their being together instead of being torn between rigid self-control and letting go.

Suddenly his lashes fluttered and his eyes opened slowly. He didn't seem surprised to find her staring at him, so he probably had been aware of her furtive scrutiny all the time. He didn't move or speak. He just looked up at her and the depth of his gaze caused her heart to turn over in her chest.

She found herself thinking that she wished she could be someone to him who had a right to love him and be close to him, like his sister, his mother, his friend. Suddenly she was terribly afraid that he may find it necessary for them to go separate ways.

She became aware of her palm resting on his cheek and quickly withdrew it. With a swift movement his hand captured hers and held it in place. For a moment he closed his eyes and burrowed into her touch before he released her and sat up slowly.

"Aren't you tired?" he asked, his voice even more husky than usually.

"I can't sleep," she confessed quietly.

He lowered his gaze, sighing softly. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "It is my fault that you are in such turmoil."

"That's what I should say to you," she countered, noting her voice was trembling. He shifted his weight and pulled her to him. "Come," he whispered, slipping back into his bag, but leaving some space for her to lie beside him. She looked at him questioningly.

"Are you sure?"

"You need to sleep," he pointed out. "So maybe you won't think of me so much if you are close to me."

That made her smile. "Thank you, Vincent," she murmured sleepily as she lay down at his side, snuggling up to him. He put his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.

"Sleep now," he ordered, and gratefully she closed her eyes.

At first she thought it would be impossible to fall asleep so close to Vincent. His body felt warm and solid against her, and she had to make an effort to lie completely still. His nearness intoxicated her, and she felt dizzy as his arms pulled her against him even more tightly. Finally the cadence of his heart and the rhythm of his even breathing lulled her to sleep.

She was dreaming of walking up a stony staircase toward a bright light streaming into a dark room. Her arms were aching as she held them out before her as if to welcome someone - someone who was slowly descending the steps toward her...

Restless movements next to her pulled her from sleep and she opened her eyes to the weak glow of the dying fire. Vincent was struggling against a nightmare, and he seemed to be torn between fighting her and protecting her against some invisible enemy. She called out his name, softly at first and then more firmly. Finally his eyes snapped open and she sighed with relief as he spoke her name. He pushed himself into an upright position and she could see that his shirt was drenched with perspiration.

"What is it, Vincent?" she asked with concern.

He just shook his head, obviously unable to clear his mind, and at last he dragged himself out of the sleeping bag and got to his feet.

"I thought I could..." he began hoarsely, but then his voice broke off.

Uncertain about what to say, Catherine followed him and put her arms around his waist, leaning her head against his chest. After a long moment of immobility, his arms came up and he wrapped her in a hesitant embrace. She sighed gratefully and closed her eyes, listening to his heartbeat as they stood together in silence. With a soft moan he pulled her even closer, brushing tender kisses across her forehead and cheeks. When his mouth found hers at last, he gave himself to the kiss without any further hesitation. She slipped her hands under his shirt and caressed his waist. Her fingers were irresistibly drawn to his softly furred chest and she reveled in the sensation of the warm skin under the silky curls. He moaned again, and it became clear to her that he fought against his building arousal. Reluctantly she withdraws her hands and mentally chastised herself for having been so thoughtless and selfish. She wanted to pull away from him, but he held her back.

"Don't go away," he rasped, his breathing still labored.

"I won't," she promised, framing his face with her hands.

"I don't know what to do," he murmured, lowering his gaze. "I don't know anymore what is right or wrong." His eyes returned to hers and she gasped at the brilliance she saw in their depth. Tears glittered on his lashes like dewdrops on the grass, and once again she wished she could give him the splendor of the morning sun to bathe his unique beauty in its golden shine.

"Rainbows," he breathed and she looked up at him questioningly. "Even tears can reflect rainbows," he explained softly, "in the right light."

"Sometimes it's enough to know the colors are there," she whispered throatily, pressing a tender kiss on his neck. "True beauty isn't always found in obvious things, but in possibilities.

"How fortunate I am," he whispered, "that you prefer looking beyond the surface of things."

"You don't know me quite as well as you seem to think," she teased, tracing the contours of his face with her index finger, "because I do like the surface of things, too."

He smiled and shook his head. "Then I'll just have to be double grateful," he replied, kissing her softly.

She regarded him attentively. He looked weary and thoughtful, but no longer upset.

"Will you tell me about your dream?" she asked quietly.

He sighed softly. "Another time, Catherine. We really should get some more sleep now."

She nodded her agreement. "But I will hold you to that."

"I know," he replied with a smile.

Together they lay down again, each in their own sleeping bag this time, but close enough so that they could hold hands as they fell asleep.

The first thing that told them they were nearing the inhabited tunnels was the clanging of the pipes. Although Catherine was very tired and in dire need of a bath and a bed, she felt a stab of regret that the special closeness to Vincent, which the journey had forced upon them, was going to end now. He reached for her hand as if he were feeling the same thing and she thought that he probably was.

Something felt different as they were nearing the communal dining hall. There was a cluster of people surrounding someone who was obviously speaking to them, telling a story. Suddenly Vincent stopped and seized Catherine's shoulders, but his eyes remained on the commotion ahead.

"What is it?" she asked, but at that moment Joshua and Rebecca caught up with them.

"Look who's here," Joshua remarked sardonically.

"Lisa!" Catherine gasped with sudden realization. Vincent cast her a quick glance and she glimpsed bewilderment in his eyes.

"I wonder what brought her back this time," Joshua murmured through gritted teeth.

Catherine felt a chill creeping up her spine. "Vincent," she said, taking his hand in hers, but at that moment they were spotted by the others and waved over to join them.

"Vincent," Samantha exclaimed, her face still beaming with adoration as she grabbed Vincent's hand. "How wonderful that you're back. Look who's come to visit with us."

Catherine let go of Vincent's hand and remained behind, hoping to get a chance to gather her wits about her before she had to face the woman who had caused Vincent so much hurt and pain. A red dress, she thought. Just like in my dream.

Rebecca stepped up to her and put a comforting arm around her shoulder.

"Don't worry," she whispered. "Lisa won't stay long. She never does."

Suddenly a hush fell over the room as Lisa straightened and floated toward them. She took Vincent's hands as if she were the closest person in his life, and cast him a dazzling smile. Catherine swallowed as a wave of confusion and uncertainty surged through her. Yet she remained where she was, looking around for Father, but he was nowhere in sight.

Joshua placed his arm around Catherine's waist and gently but firmly pushed her in Vincent's direction.

"Hello, Lisa," he said with exaggerated friendliness. "What a surprise to see you."

"Hello, Joshua," she greeted him, briefly releasing Vincent's hand to take Joshua's. "How lovely to see you."

Her body language betrayed that she wasn't pleased at all to see Joshua.

Catherine thought that, aside from herself, Joshua seemed to be the only person unaffected by Lisa's charm. She was not so sure about Vincent, though. He stood spellbound, his expression tense and guarded. Vincent's relief was palpable though as the children surrounded Lisa again, pleading with her to continue her story. Quickly he stepped back to put some distance between Lisa and him. Catherine sensed his growing irritation and it was like poison in her blood.

Suddenly Vincent whisked around and left the hall.

"He is probably searching for Father," Joshua whispered close to Catherine's ear. "I suppose he wants to find out why Lisa is here and how long she plans on staying."

Catherine gave him a grateful nod and then her eyes returned to the woman who held everybody's attention. She certainly was beautiful by common standards, but there was something in her gestures and movements that betrayed her egocentric nature, her greed for acknowledgement and admiration, and her very limited ability to be aware of people other than to gauge their reactions to her performance. Catherine's stomach clenched at the thought of what she had done to Vincent, and that she had dared touch him like that.

"Maybe you should sit down," she heard Rebecca's concerned voice. "You're frighteningly pale."

Catherine took a deep breath and straightened. "Maybe I'd better leave."

"Okay," Rebecca replied. "Let's go."

Catherine took a deep breath, reconsidering. "I mustn't leave Vincent alone in this."

Rebecca nodded her understanding and they both followed Joshua to a table in the far corner of the room. They had just taken their seats when Catherine sensed Vincent's return. He pulled out a chair for himself and sat down, his face neutral and composed, but Catherine could feel his turmoil under the seemingly smooth surface.

"And?" Joshua inquired. "What did you find out?"

"That she will be in town for the next several months. She has a contract with a touring company and will perform here." Vincent's voice sounded strained, and he appeared absentminded.

Catherine caught herself hating that woman because she held so much power over Vincent. Within a very short span of time she had managed to turn him into a distant and withdrawn shadow of himself.

"Why is Father not here?" she asked Joshua.

"Probably because he would have a hard time putting up a friendly facade in the face of Lisa's lies," he replied with a frown.

Vincent shot him a look that Catherine couldn't interpret. "Vincent," she whispered. "Do you mind if we left? I'd really like to talk with you."

He gave her a short nod and briefly talked to Joshua and Rebecca. Then the four of them rose together and left the room.

Several days passed by uneventfully, and Catherine noted with relief that Vincent appeared to be his old self again.

They spent lovely evenings with Joshua and Rebecca, reminiscing about their journey. They even talked about Lisa. It almost seemed as if Vincent had come to terms with the emotional upheaval Lisa's reappearance had caused, if not for the fact that Vincent took great care to avoid meeting Lisa when she was below. Catherine knew he wasn't telling her everything that was on his mind, but at least he didn't close himself off completely.

One quiet evening Catherine had planned on remaining above since Vincent had told her he had chores to attend to. She picked a book on crystals and gemstones and settled down on her bed, but she couldn't really concentrate on what she was reading. Her thoughts kept revolving around Vincent all the time. Something didn't feel right.

Finally she closed the book and went to retrieve her coat to go below. If Vincent wasn't back from his chores, at least she wanted to be there when he returned. The pull she felt to be with him was overwhelming.

Her heart sang with joy as she rounded the last corner before his chamber. She could already see the familiar rock formation that surrounded the entrance. Suddenly she heard the hurried footsteps of a woman. Her first impulse was to hide and see who it was, but it was too late. Lisa emerged from Vincent's chamber and came toward Catherine, clutching the front of her dress - her gown, Catherine corrected herself - to her chest.

Lisa stopped in her tracks as she caught sight of Catherine, but then she simply hurried past her and disappeared. Catherine stood there in stunned confusion, because the front of Lisa's gown had obviously been torn, and she was holding on to it to prevent it from slipping off her body.

With great apprehension Catherine entered. She didn't dare think of what may have happened between Lisa and Vincent. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, his clothing rumpled and his face buried in his palms. Catherine crossed the room and sat down beside him, waiting patiently until he acknowledged her presence. He lifted his head and cast her such a wounded look that it stabbed her heart. Then he placed his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close with a quiet sob.

"Vincent, what happened?" she asked, but he just shook his head. She tried to lean back and look into his eyes, but he wouldn't allow it. He insisted on hiding his face in her hair. "I saw Lisa leave your chamber," she ventured at last. There was still no reply from him.

The image of Lisa's torn gown haunted her mercilessly, but she clamped down on it with determination. "Why is Lisa below at this time of night?" she asked.

"She is hiding," Vincent replied hoarsely. "She is supposed to testify against a man of wealth and influence, and that's why she sought refuge with us."

Catherine nodded her head, suppressing the urge to ask any further questions. Suddenly he released her and rose to his feet, starting a restless pacing.

When he stopped in front of her she stood up in order to meet his gaze. He struggled to hold her eyes with his, but finally his gaze fell away and his shoulders slumped.

Catherine couldn't bear it any longer and grabbed his arms. "Vincent," she implored him, "please tell me what happened."

He threw back his head, releasing a helpless groan, and when he finally looked at her again, there were tears in his eyes. She lifted her hand to wipe them away, but he caught at her wrist, preventing her from touching him.

Her heart went out to him, and she knew that whatever had happened wouldn't change a thing about her love for him. Ignoring his attempt at keeping his distance, she placed her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against his chest. His heart raced frantically beneath her ear, and she tried to soothe him by gently rubbing his back.

Gradually he relaxed against her and his resistance subsided. "I don't deserve the comfort you give me," he rasped. "I don't deserve your trust."

"Why?" she asked, suddenly not certain that she really wanted to hear. A long silence followed and she could literally feel his struggle for words. "You don't have to tell me," she said at last, lifting her head in order to kiss his throat.