THE CAVERN OF DEEP HARMONY

PART SEVENTY-TWO:

"Mom," Ryan said, walking into Joan's enormous kitchen where Martha, Joan, Elizabeth, and Joan's daughters were already preparing New Year's dinner. "Would you invite Maria to eat with us?"

Martha turned toward her son, wiping her hands on her apron. "You wouldn't happen to have any ulterior motivation for that request, now would you?"

"Most definitely," he grinned, lifting her hand and kissing it despite its dusting of flour. "Mike's invited, is he not?"

"He's always invited. You know that."

"So...will you give Maria a call? I just happen to have her number." He handed her a small slip of paper.

"Matchmaker," she accused fondly.

He just cocked his head, continuing to grin. "You seen Con?"

"In the den, with her Mom. Give them a sec. Seemed like they were in some deep discussion."

"Ok," he replied amiably, scooping a fingerful of cookie dough from a bowl on the counter.

"Raw eggs," she admonished.

"Yeah, good, eh?"

"About Connie...."

"What about her?" he smiled, leaning against the counter, contentedly licking his finger.

"You know what I mean."

"I do," he agreed.

"So...what?"

"Somethin's up, Mom," he admitted, smiling broadly, lips together, shaking his head from side to side.

"They'll be going back to Pittsburgh tomorrow, won't they?"

He sighed. "Yeah, they will. And I've gotta get myself up to Cleveland."

"Which leaves you...where?"

"Leaves her in Pittsburgh and me in Cleveland."

"And....?"

"And I intend to do something about that as soon as I can."

Her lips twitched into a smile. "I saw that," he added.

"It just makes me happy," she said softly. "Happy for you, happy for the possibilities with this new family I've gone and got so darn fond of."

"We do have...possibilities," he nodded, meeting her gaze.

Connie and Edith sat side by side on a small couch, talking about their upcoming return to Pittsburgh. Edith had been asking pretty much the same things Martha had been asking Ryan.  "What's great, Mom," Connie was saying, "is that we're both in the same business. And Ryan has a lot of experience in opening new travel agencies. We're thinking...when he's got this one

in Cleveland on its feet...we're thinking of...maybe...starting one together in Pittsburgh."

Even though she loved wisely and with open hands, Edith's heart plumped a bit with sudden gladness. Connie would be staying in Pittsburgh. And so would Eden. Her New Year's cup was full. She blinked back quick tears.

"What, Mom? What is it?"

"I love you so much," Edith smiled. "That's all."

"Oh, Mom, do you have any idea how enough that is?"

Luke, not really aware of the intensity of Wadsworth's concentration on only one thing, opened the front door to see how his snowman was doing.  He and Ryan and Connie had built it in the yard after breakfast and he wanted to be sure it wasn't melting or anything. Wadsworth bolted down the entrance hall and was out the door before Luke was even aware of the dog's presence. "STOP!" he shrieked as Waddy made straight for the back road that ran close to the lake.

Ryan heard Luke's cry and ran to the hall just in time to see Wadsworth disappear around the bend in the road. "Get him, Ryan!" Luke wailed. "Make him stop!"

Ryan shook his head. "Nothing's going to make that dog stop, Luke. He wants to get to Marshall."

"But he'll get lost! And Marshy needs him."

"He won't get lost, Luke. No need to worry about that. He knows right where he's going." He pulled out his cell phone, though, pausing to check his watch for the time first. Should be ok...

by now, he thought, suppressing a grin, then dialed the inn's number.

Eden picked up the extension in the kitchen. She and Marshall had just finished a rather late breakfast. "Hello."

"Ryan here, Eden. Just wanted to give you a head's up that company's on its furry way."

"Wadsworth?"

Marshall's ears pricked up.

"Yeah, he escaped captivity and is headed down the lake road toward the inn. Will you give me a call when he gets there? Luke's worried."

"What's up with Wadsworth?" Marshall asked as she hung up the phone.

"Evidently he got loose from Stuart's house and is coming here. Alone. Will he be ok? Should I drive out and look for him?"

"He'll be ok," Marshall smiled. "He'll be just fine."

"Is it that homing device for guide dogs you have implanted in your wrist?"

He laughed. "Something like that."

She went to the front door, looking toward the lake road. No sign of him. She pressed her lips together. Damn dog had wormed his way into her heart right along with his master. Well, he'd just better not go and fall off any cliffs between Stuart's and the inn! Damn dog!

Marshall came up behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders. "You worried?" he asked.

"He's part of you," she murmured. "Somehow he's part of you. He means a lot to me."

"He'll be fine."

She wheeled on him. "You always say that! Then you go off somewhere and a building falls on you."

"Aren't we talking about Wadsworth?"

"We're talking about a doggy extension of you, Marshall. A bear is probably eating him as we speak."

"You did think he was a bear once, if I recall."

"It's not funny," she griped, grabbing her coat off the hook and stepping out onto the porch where she could get a better view of the end of the lane.

He followed her, but with no coat. She looked at him then closed her eyes tightly. What was she to do? Bubble wrap was simply not an option. He put his arms around her and she whispered, "You drive me crazy, you know."

"Like this?" and he nibbled at her neck.

"No coat."

"Ah," he murmured, "but this is a much better way." And he continued his nibbling.

Dammit! Her entire pelvis was coming alive in response. How could she concentrate on worrying about Waddy when he was doing that to her neck? "Stop that!"

"Really?" He nibbled up to her ear.

She was lost and she knew it, so turned to face him. "No, not really."  He kissed her lips and she put a palm on either side of his face. Abruptly she pulled back. "Your cheeks are cold."

"It's January first."

"That's right, and you're on the porch with no coat."

"Whither thou goest...."

Without another word she took his hand and went back into the entrance hall. "Coffee, mister," she announced, leading him toward the kitchen.

"I'm fi...." he began to protest.

"Don't you dare say it!" she growled. "It's only been days since you had a tube jammed through your ribcage."

"Aren't we supposed to be worrying about Wadsworth and the bears?"  He sat on a stool, accepting a steaming mug from her hand.

"You were letting me do all the worrying. There was a definite inequity of worrying going on."

"But he will be fine, Eden. He will."

"Did you know 'fine' is a four-letter word, my dear?"

He sipped his coffee, the corners of his mouth twitching, which made it rather more difficult. "Married life is proving to be very...interesting...,Mrs. Sinclair."

He said it with a smile but suddenly she was utterly stricken by the way she'd been behaving and turned, gripping the edge of the sink, tears welling again.

"Eden?" he said into her silence. When she still didn't answer, he set his mug on the counter, trailing his fingers along the Formica edge until he came to the sink. She was leaning forward over it, her hair hanging down. His hand moved up her back and he could feel the shaking of
her soundless crying. "Oh, Eden! I didn't mean anything by that."

"It's not you," she said without turning. "It's me. I...I'm not doing this right."

"You're not doing what right, darling?"

"Being your wife. Loving you. I'm not doing any of it right."

He took her shoulders, turning her to face him. "You love me perfectly. Don't you know that?"

She shook her head and hiccupped. "No. I don't know that. You have no idea how wrong I do it."

"Because you worry? Do you mean because you worry about me?"

She nodded. "It's more than worry. I...I think I'm scared to death."

He thought of the sleigh accident Christmas Day, how he'd come back to himself only to find she'd completely collapsed, had retreated somewhere so far from conscious bearing of what

had happened it had taken hours to revive her. He wanted to promise her he'd always be ok,

had wanted to promise her that before, but you could never really promise such a thing. "I've put you through so much, my darling, way too much."

She hiccupped again, wiping at her face. "Only because you try to protect me."

"I couldn't let them take you, Eden, and I couldn't let you fall on the road. I just...."

"I know," she said, "I know.  But maybe you have to let me fall. I can bear that better than losing you."

But he couldn't promise her that, either, so he just held her to him. "Can we be happy, darling? Right here in this minute we've got? Can we take that and just be happy in it?"

She sniffled. "Maybe...if the bears don't eat Waddy."

Just at that moment a series of sharp barks sounded at the front door. "He's here!" she gasped, breaking from his arms to sprint toward the door.

He was left standing in the middle of the kitchen, so began to walk rapidly after the sound of

her footsteps, smiling as he heard her open the door and delightedly cry, "Waddy!!"  But he misjudged the location of the stool and walked right into it, knocking it over on its side, and falling with it onto his knees. He was still on all fours when Wadsworth burst into the kitchen and practically hurled himself atop Marshall, whom he considered to be in prime 'play' positioning.

Eden made it back to the kitchen just in time to see Waddy topple Marshall over onto his side. Her eyes took in the fallen stool and she shouted, "No, Waddy!"

But Marshall rolled onto his back and Wadsworth straddled him, furiously licking his face.

"It's ok, Eden," he managed to get out, though his tongue got licked in the process. "He's just glad to see me."

She watched them a moment. Marshall had his hands buried in the thick fur of the dog's neck and Wadsworth's tail was beating a tattoo on the fallen stool. Marshall laughed, turning his head away from the licking a bit, but Waddy just went for his ear and he laughed again then wrapped his arms around the big dog, pulling him down onto his chest. And she saw the boy

that was still in the man and she loved them all, the man, the boy, the dog. They were hers,

hers to love, all of them.  She squatted beside them and Wadsworth craned his neck out,

swiping his tongue wetly down her cheek. "Happy New Year's, Waddy," she said. "Welcome home."

Marshall let go of Wadsworth with his right hand, reaching it out to her. "No bears," he said softly.

She took his hand, warm and vibrant with life, in both of hers. "No," she whispered, "no bears. Not today."

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