IN DAYLIGHT AS ONE
by Linda Mooney
III ~ The First Night
Shortly after ten p.m. by the clock in the dash, Catherine found the narrow blacktop lane she was seeking and turned onto it.
"How much further?" Vincent asked. He felt her rising anticipation and correctly guessed they were near their goal.
Her brows wrinkled slightly as she thought. "Not far. Seven miles, I think. We still turn off once more on a little dirt road that leads right to the cabin."
"How long has it been since your last visit?"
She sighed. "The summer before I met you. My father went every October for deer season. He was a bow hunter ."
A brief, tight pain clenched her heart. Her father now was dead. He would never be able to tell her any more of his outlandish hunting stories he used to love to tease her with.
A gentle hand touched her arm and she realized there were tears on her cheeks. Wiping them away, she managed a small smile. "Do you remember that little store we passed a couple of miles back?" she asked him.
Vincent nodded.
"A man by the name of Will Tellegrue lives there and runs it. He also takes care of the cabins around the lake during the off-season. Has been as long as I can remember. This is all private property. There's only - I think - three cabins on this side of the lake. Everything's completely secluded." She looked lovingly at him. "You'll be safe here."
Vincent smiled and corrected her. "We'll be safe."
She smiled back. "I called Will yesterday and asked him to check on the place. I told him I had been ill and needed to get out of the city for a couple of days. And that I was also going to need complete privacy. He called me back to say the cabin was in perfect shape... little dusty maybe. He said he would turn on the utilities and sweep it out."
"It sounds rustic."
"Not really," she shook her head. "Look...I think that's the turn-off."
The van pulled onto a gravel drive. Several hundred feet down the road, the headlights revealed a long log cabin with a wide porch. Catherine pulled alongside and cut the engine.
Total silence enveloped them both. Slowly, sounds from outside filtered in to where they sat listening.
"Trail's end," Catherine whispered and unlocked both their seat belts. They quietly climbed down from their seats and softly shut the doors. Rounding the front of the vehicle, she watched him remove his cloak and fold it over one arm. Standing before her, he was bathed in the moonlight, and Catherine felt her heart overflow with love for him.
The night itself was alive with a myriad of sounds and smells. Vincent inhaled deeply and savored it.
"The air has a scent...I can't ever remember tasting it before."
"That's because there's no smog," she teased. Pointing back toward the road, she said, "The mountains are behind us. That's east. The lake is around the front of the cabin, facing west. We'll be able to watch the sunset over the water ." She reached out to take his hand.
"Here. Let me show you."
They slowly walked around the side of the building until they came to the front of the cabin where a wider porch ran its entire length. A suspended swing at one end swayed slightly in the night breeze.
Vincent slowly turned around, soaking in all the sensations assailing him. The insects chirping, the wind through the leaves, the creak of the porch swing - all were new to him in this setting. All were being offered a special place deep inside him because of the knowledge that this was a part of his Catherine's life.
Just a hundred feet away the lake licked the edges of the shore. The nearly full moon glittered in a thousand repetitions on the water's surface. Vincent did not realize that Catherine had embraced him until she spoke.
"My happiness is complete now, Vincent. I will always hold in my heart the memory of the two of us standing here... safe... and free."
They held each other a few minutes longer, sharing the moon on the gently rippling water . Vincent tenderly caressed her hair, warming her, and feeling her breathe against his chest.
Reluctantly she drew back. "Let's go inside. It's been a while since I've been here and I want to see if it still looks the same as I remember ."
A kerosene lamp hung on a hook by the front door. Finding the book of matches she had tucked in her jacket pocket, she lit the lamp and turned to open the door. They entered the main living room and Vincent looked about as Catherine went around lighting candles. He was pleased to see that a large fireplace filled the far wall. Finishing with the candles, Catherine stood before him, her arms outstretched. .'Well? ... What do you think? It's not fancy, but I've always felt cozy and protected here."
He looked at her, his gaze loving. "I feel welcomed. I sense many happy memories from the past from you."
Her smile was radiant. . "Oh." She suddenly thought of the practicalities. "I'd better go unpack the van and put the food up before it spoils." When Vincent made a gesture to help, she stopped him. "I'd much rather you start a fire for us. There's a woodbin on the back porch. You might find some logs in it."
Twenty minutes later they were sitting on the rug in front of a warming fire. The night outside was growing colder but it couldn't reach past the shadows dancing in the far corners of the room. Catherine raised her head from his chest and slowly drank in the sight of her love's face: The soft hair of his cheek and chin; the tantalizing shape of his cleft mouth; the intelligent, deep-set eyes; and the gold and red mass of incredibly silky hair about his shoulders.
Vincent felt her love welling up from her soul and he drew her closer to him. Lowering his face, he closed his eyes and inhaled the complex scent of her - the last traces of her perfume, the wood smoke, the shampoo she used, and her own musky femaleness.
There was no other sound than that of the logs burning in the grate and there were no words needing to pass between them. Their bond wrapped their hearts with the passionate affection each felt and gave in return. They were warm in each other's embrace, and deeply in love.
Sleepily, reluctantly, Catherine broke the spell. ."It's getting late. There's the bed in the bedroom, or the couch makes into a bed. Which one do you wish?"
He hesitated only for a moment. "I wish to stay awake a little longer and watch the night. You go...get your rest."
Slowly she got to her feet and disappeared into the bedroom. Vincent watched her go with a faint sense of loss: Every time she left his arms, it felt as if a small part of him left, too.
He watched the fire for a few minutes more before rising to don his cloak. Wrapping it firmly about him, he stepped out onto the porch and seated himself on the steps, leaning against the railing.
The night passed . . .