MY HEART IN STONE

PART THIRTY-FOUR:

Henri drove back down the little lane to the main road, pleased more than he could

say that Cort's idea had worked.  "I'm so...," he began, then glanced over to see that

Cort's temple was resting against the window glass, his eyes closed.  Henri smiled

affectionately.  Now that his nerves had settled, he was making up for losing an entire

night's sleep.  Good.  No reason right now for him not to.

He drove in silence, taking a longer way back to Hromada to give Cort a few extra

minute's rest.  Kamen was on his mind. HAD the control room actually been destroyed? 

There would be no way to know, not for sure, not unless he attempted to get back into

the complex. Maybe Terry would be interested in accompanying him?  He liked the

Aussie's manner of quiet competence.  What a different man he would be to work for

from Mikol.

He chuckled to himself then, Cort's name for him, Henry Dawson, coming to mind.

Perhaps he should get Terry to arrange that on his papers?  It definitely sounded more American. And Cort had always called him Henry anyway.  His grin broadened. 

"Hank," he said softly, trying that one out.  No, Henry was as far as he could go with

that.

As they entered the outskirts of Hromada he could see Cort was still sleeping soundly

so he circled completely around the town, looking at it with eyes that knew they would

be leaving it soon.  It WAS beautiful.  There was no getting past that, but, still, he was

more than ready to leave it far behind him.  A new beginning.  At his age, he'd thought

that was not something that would come into his life again.  Especially not so long as

Mikol were alive.  He'd felt nearly as trapped in Kamen as Cort.  Mikol had no intention

of ever letting him leave.  He knew too much, far too much, and the only way to leave

Kamen for such as he was off the parapet.

Finally he pulled up in the small car park behind the Mini and shook Cort's shoulder

gently.  "We're here," he said, as Cort opened his eyes, rubbing at his temple where it

had pressed against the glass.

Cort yawned widely, "Guess I drifted off again."

"You needed the rest, Son."  He didn't mention how long he'd circled around, making

the drive nearly three times as long.  "Are you going to wait for Rachel in your room?"

"Think so. I don't know just when she'll be finished, where she'll be.  So, yes, I think I'll

just go on up there.  You're coming to the big dinner tonight, right?"

In the lobby they found Terry sitting in an easy chair, typing one-handed on the NanoCorp laptop.  Seeing them, he closed it, and waved them over.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” he said as they approached.  “You just missed the ladies. 

They were on about cake and dresses and God know what else.  Off to do more shopping,

I’m sure.  They did make a mention about three o’clock, but…” he trailed off with a shrug

and a grin.  “Sit down!  I was about to head back to the Angel, but am glad to catch you

now.”

"Glad to see you here," Henri said, "I'd like to speak with you about Kamen if I might."

Cort, still sleepy, yawned and said, "I'm going on up to the room, I think.  Rachel'll be

looking for me there in a bit."

"I'll see you at dinner, Son," Henri said, watching Cort head for the elevators.  Then he

turned his attention to Terry and sat down in a nearby chair.  "I need to get back into

Kamen.  I've got to see with my own eyes what shape that control room is in.  We

managed to get rid of his lingering nerve complications late this morning, but he's still

got the whole warp thing hanging over him."

“Our reservations for dinner are at seven, Cort,” Terry called out to him.  Turning to

Henri, he nodded.  “Yes, that’s something that’s been on my mind as well.  In fact,

Deidre and may be able to assist you with some of the…stickier aspects of cleaning up

the castle.”  He paused, considering whether or not to relay Deidre’s hasty report of

Rachel’s concerns, and decided to keep it simple.  Henri was an intelligent man, and

a conscientious one.  No doubt he would want to be thorough before leaving the old life

behind.  “It would be interesting to see what has been damaged in the explosion set off. 

I’m still working on who we can get on that.  There is a matter, however, broached at

the first of our trip yesterday, when we discussed more…grave matters.”  Terry held

Henri’s look for a few seconds to make sure he would convey his meaning.  “An issue,

I think, that Nolia can be of more assistance than I.  She’s as much of my team as

Rachel and Cort.”

"Ah," Henri nodded. "You are meaning what lies beneath the parapet, I presume?"

Terry nodded.  “Perhaps we can get more into it after Cort and Rachel have left for

their honeymoon?  Deidre and I are staying a few days after to help you with any paper

work and finalization you need to handle.  I hope this is agreeable with you?”

"Yes, quite fine.  There is, however, another matter connected with Mikol's funding that

I would like to mention right now, if I might?  It concerns this Father Pavel who will be performing the ceremony tomorrow. When Cort and I were out there this morning, I

toured his small clinic. Woefully inadequate," he frowned. "Gerta, before she...died...

managed to transfer a large portion of Grovensky funds into an account that requires

only my signature." He leaned back in the chair, steepling his fingers. "I'd like to take

a fair-sized portion of that and see it used to modernize Pavel's clinic and the small

school he also runs.  Would you have any problem with that, Terry?"

“Not at all!”  Terry grinned.  “Obviously, the Grovensky accounts are at your discretion. 

I…we…at NanoCorp look forward to whatever beneficiary knowledge…or funds, for

that matter…” he could not help a grin at the doctor, “that you can offer, but ultimately,

you are the sole executor of the work that is to be done.  Let us know if there is anything

we can do to help.”

"Thank you," Henri replied, standing.  "It's just that I've seen how much good Father

Pavel has done for my s...for Cort, and I'd like to repay his kindnesses if I could.  Also,

Cort had a rather similar school for orphans in his own mission, you know, and I think

it would please him to know Father Pavel's would ...well...I'd like it to be done in Cort's

name, you see."  He smiled, looking toward the elevators where Cort had disappeared

from view a while ago.  "Yes, I would like that, indeed."  Turning back to Terry, he

added.  "I'll see you at dinner later this evening then.  I have some business of my own

to attend to presently."

Cort opened the door of their room.  Rachel was not there yet.  He sat in a chair and

slipped off his boots, wiggling his toes a bit, then stared at the bed.  Hmmm?  How long

before she returned?  Well, maybe he'd just stretch out for a minute.  Last night had

had a full week of hours in it.  He'd thought it would never end.  Rising, he walked to

the bed, sitting on its edge, then leaning back, his feet still on the floor, his arms curved

around his head.  He meant to turn, pull his legs up, really he did, but just lying there

as he was felt so good. His eyes closed and he went to sleep as he lay.

Forgetting her sore feet and tired legs, Rachel dashed up the stairwell to their room,

stopping long enough to open the door gently in case Cort was still asleep.  He was. 

But in the dim light, his prostrate figure looked as if he had just fallen backwards into

the bed, his legs still hanging over the edge where his feet touched the floor. 

She approached slowly – his chest rose and fell in a regular manner and he looked in

utter peace.  Once she assured herself that he was merely in deep slumber she went

about setting packages aside and slipping off her own shoes, finally sitting in the chair

to wait and think.  Except, the more she looked at him, the funnier she found his position

to be.  He must have been too tired to crawl completely into bed, she thought.  Then she wondered if he was going to be uncomfortable when he woke.  That can’t be good for his circulation.

So she got up and crawled in from the opposite side so that she rested on her elbows and

her face hovered above his forehead.  She kissed his brow, staring at the way his lashes

lay, the rise of his nose.

He lifted his hand, still mostly asleep, and brushed at his forehead as though a fly had

landed on it. His hand, though, encountered Rachel's face and his lids flew open.  Are

you back?" he asked, his brain not quite yet in gear.

"I am," she laughed softly.  "Are you comfy?"

Curving his arms around her, he pulled her down atop him.  "Now I am," he purred,

nibbling at her lower lip.

She kissed him briefly and then curled up so that she lay on her side and could look more directly into his face.

"How are you, my love?  You seemed so troubled this morning.  Is everything all right?"

"Much, much better," he replied. "I had a good talk with Father Pavel and then Henri

knocked me out."

Rachel sat up, horror flooding her.

“Did you…did the aqua…the warp didn’t try to take you again, did it?”  She gasped.

Cort sat up, too, holding onto her shoulders.  "Oh, I'm sorry Rachel. I think my quirky

sense of humor got the best of me there.  I should have thought you wouldn't know what

I meant.  I'm so sorry!"

He kissed her several times, then added.  "After we left Pavel's and were driving back

to Hromada, I had a thought that since I hadn't had a wink of sleep after those damn

vibrations started..."  He saw the look in her eyes at that piece of information.  "Last

night...I couldn't sleep...not a bit...so I sort of, um, well, sat on the side of the bath tub

for most of the time."  He looked a little sheepish as he explained.

“Oh Cort…you should have told me,” Rachel chided, and then remembered what Henry

had said about knocking him unconscious.  “I wish I had thought to give you something

last night, if I had known you couldn’t get to sleep.  All night?  You poor thing!  And there

I was snoring away!  So Henri gave you some of the drug to knock you out then?  Is that

why I found you half in the bed and half out of it?”

“No, that was just because I was still tired from last night. He gave me the drug in the

woods."  Then he realized how strange that sounded.  "Let me back up again.  We

were returning to Hromada, ok, and I asked Henri if since I hadn't slept after the

vibrations started, maybe that was why they were still going on, that if I did go sound

asleep, maybe they'd stop?  He thought that made sense because of some connection he

tried to explain about the brain and the nerves and all so we parked by this big

evergreen and I lay on a blanket and he gave me one of his shot things.  Next thing I

know I'm waking up and the vibrations are gone."  He smiled.  "So, you see, it worked...

even if I didn't really know what I was talking about. But I was still tired and slept

some more in the car and then when I got back here and you weren't here...well...I

just...."

They were now positioned where he leaned against the backboard of the bed and she

lay cradled in his arms, looking up at him while he spoke.  Chagrin that she had not

been tuned in enough to notice his absence from the bed and worry over the meaning

of the vibrations changed to relief as he explained.  “I’m so glad it did,” she told him,

not wishing to elaborate on her own doubt of Henri’s method, on her doubt about the

assurance that the warp was completely disconnected.  The fact that they could be so

far away and it still have an effect on him unnerved her more than she could say. 

However, she smiled back at him to show her happiness that the shadow from his face

was gone.  He was watching her face with such love she decided she would stop worrying

if he had stopped. 

“It’s all gone then?  I just wish you had said something, Cort.  How can I be a wife to

you when you won’t tell me what’s going on in your heart?  Or body, for that matter! 

‘In sickness and in health’ is the phrase, I believe,” she said, caressing his face to soften

to blow.  “I want to take care of you,” she added.

"You're right," he agreed.  "Pavel helped me see that, that it wasn't the way to go for

me to think I was protecting you by not letting you in on what was happening to me." 

He closed his eyes a moment. "It was such a battle last night.  I sat there, wanting you,

wanting your arms around me and at the same time I didn't want to wake you, to cause

you more worry."  He sighed.  "I won't do it again. It made me feel cut off from you,

all those hours alone in the night.  It was...horrible."

“Its okay,” Rachel reassured.  “I think I understand why you wanted to protect me. 

We both had a hard yank back into that awful situation and since we escaped from

that, neither one of us wanted to let it stop us from being with each other.  It kills me

to think of you alone, even when you’re feet away.  Remember your words last night? 

Hold on to me, Cort.  Don’t let go.”

He remembered.  He slid to the side so he was lying down again, pulling her with him

until she lay completely atop him, his arms wrapped around her back.  "I won't let

go," he whispered into her hair.  "I promise you.  I'll never, never let go."

***

He laced his fingers through hers, liking the feel of it.  "Like this," he said, holding

their joined hands up toward the glow of the street light they had paused under on

their way back to the Mini after dinner.  "Always.  You and me, just like this...

intertwined."

He brushed a wandering wave off her face. "Miss Keirs, will you marry me tomorrow?"

She looked at the knot their fingers made in their clasp, the image and feel of it freezing

itself in her memory, the way his long fingers interlocked with hers, the way his palm

melded to hers, the warmth of the clasp solid, sure and...beautiful.  Then she looked up

at him and was reminded of the way the sun lined his features back when they were

sitting by the stream in the morning when he asked her the first time.  The light

surrounding them was richer now, more permeating, as if it went through them rather

than around.  The morning of his first asking had a quality of delicate newness, but here,

in the streets of Hromada, his words were strong and full, the light tempered by evening shadows, the glow a more precious gold.

She kissed him, long and full - the light required it, the one thing that needed to bind the

gold to them both.

"Maybe the day after tomorrow?"  She asked, grinning suddenly.  She wanted to see

how he would react.  "See…there's this guy I have to meet under an ancient lime tree tomorrow.  I kinda promised."

"Oh, you did, now did you?" he grinned in reply. "Well, a promise is a promise so I

guess you'll just have to go through with it.  Lucky fellow who gets to kiss you under the

lime. I'd be jealous if I didn't get to do...this...right now."  And he kissed her, his lips

full of the promises that would be spoken tomorrow.  When he was done, he tipped his

head back, looking at the lamp light, adding, “but there is one thing you can do for me

right now."

He led her away from the lights, down near the bank of the river where there were no

houses, took off his jacket and spread it on the grass, using his hand to help lower her to

a sitting position atop it. Then he sat next to her on the grass itself.  "I want to look up

at the stars with you tonight, this last night before you become Mrs. Wells."  He lay

back, his left arm behind his head, his right still holding her hand as she, too, reclined. 

"It's better than by the street lights," he said softly, “but not like the American West." 

He turned his head toward her.  "Sometimes, Rachel, I do miss the West, the feel of the

air, the space of it."

"I'm looking forward to my first night as Mrs. Wells," she mused, squeezing his hand

in her happiness.  "And I look forward to lots and lots of star-gazing."  She let her vision

roam the vast night above them, noting the constellations and the silvery streak of the

Milky Way, a bridal spray of diamonds winking back at them.  As much of a delight

the medieval town had been, Rachel was beginning to feel the same kind of restlessness. 

The times they had driven through the country, she had wanted to stop the car and grab

Cort's hand and go tromping through the fields, just to find what they could find.  Back

home, it seemed more possible to do just that. 

"The West," she repeated, turning that over in her mind.  She had visited quite a few

of the states on the East Coast of the US, but not the West.  "The one time I've ever been

out west, Cort," she said, laughing at the irony, "was when I went into your movie.  If

Arizona is like that, I don't think..." she glanced at him, wondering if he would be hurt

by her opinion, but she had to be honest, "I don’t think I would enjoy it very much. 

But," she amended quickly, turning on her side to face him more clearly, "if you want to

go that direction, I’m happy where you go.  I just have to say I'd prefer lots and lots of

trees."

He chuckled, rolling on his side now to face her completely.  "You mean you don't want

endless desert and blown up buildings on our honeymoon, eh?  Trees sound good to me,

too."  He pulled up a long, slender blade of grass, chewing it thoughtfully.  "How about

still West, but more north than Arizona?  I've always wanted to see Montana myself. 

Met a guy from there once when I was riding with John.  Way he described it sounded

like heaven itself to me.  What do you think of going to Montana?"

Rachel’s eyebrows lifted a bit.  She'd never thought of Montana.  Colorado, Utah, even

Nevada or California, but never Montana.  Her memory was jogged of a scene from a

favorite movie - a Russian sub captain and his first mate, the latter dreaming of life in

America.  'I will live in Montana. And I will marry a round American woman and raise

rabbits, and she will cook them for me. And I will have a pickup truck...Actually, I think

I will need two wives.'  She grinned broadly at that thought.  Montana.  It sounded

heavenly just by the name.  "I think it would be wonderful…but," she replied, "don't

get the idea that you'll be needing two wives."

"TWO?"  He laughed aloud, going after her ribs with his fingers.  "One of you is...

perfect."  She was gasping by then but he lifted her blouse a bit and attacked her belly

button, blowing big noisy breaths into its hollow.

Shrieking her surprise, Rachel rolled to gain advantage of Cort's torso and found a

vulnerable spot underneath his arm, tickling so that he yelped and pulled away, sitting

up as he did.  Rachel took advantage and tackled him until he rolled onto his back,

holding her as he went down, both of them laughing as though they had never laughed

before.

“But you know what?”  She said, as they regained their breath and he wrapped her

up in his arms again, nuzzling her neck now.  “We’re going to need to let Terry know…

like, tonight!  He did say to let him know as soon as possible what our destination was

so he could inform the pilot.  I can’t believe he’s going to let us use the company jet! 

Oh, Cort, how are we ever going to repay everyone’s generosity?”

Another couple had come and were sitting on a bench not far away.  "Let's go back to

the hotel and make the call from there," he said, standing and putting out a hand to

help her to her feet.  He cupped her cheek, silver in the flowing reflections from the

river.  "By being happy," he whispered.  "That's all they want from us, you know. 

By letting them give.  I've been learning that."  They walked toward the Mini, his arm

about her waist.  "At the mission, I always wanted to be the giver.  Usually was, too. 

Has taken me a long time to learn the whole package.  That there are times for giving

and times for receiving.  Right now it's our time to receive.  Soon enough, I expect, it'll

turn around and we'll be giving again."  He sighed, picturing Henri's face.  "I see all

the pleasure it's bringing to Henri, doing what he's doing. The best thing I can do for

him right now, the real gift I can give to him, is receiving what he wants to give."  He

opened the door of the hotel.  "A season for everything.”

The dinner in the Angel’s restaurant had been a success, Terry congratulated himself

as he sat down in a large overstuffed chair tucked into a small bay of the room where he

and Deidre stayed.  He had only turned on one lantern when they entered, Deidre

disappearing into the bathroom, while he pulled off his tie and kicked off his shoes,

thankful for the insulated quiet now.  He would have to wait until Deidre came out to

get his jacket off, a feat needing the skills of an ambidextrous octopus as his plastered

arm was difficult to move without discomfort and awkward angles.  Fortunately, Nolia

always made a game of this, but until she could help, Terry chose to sit in the chair and

breathe out slowly, feeling as if another day of extraordinary feats had been a miracle

beyond his comprehension. 

The little alcove held two chairs facing each other with a tiny table and complementary

bowl of fruit sat in between them.  The fruit looked good, but he couldn’t eat another bite. 

He glanced at the bathroom door.  While the conversation had been diverse and fun, he

had found himself wishing for it to come to an end so he could have some down time of

his own, with Nolia.  It seemed as though he and Deidre had been going and going since

they arrived. 

The phone rang and he glared at it.  It had better be Rachel or Bud, he thought, and even

then I might tell them to take a jump off the Victoria bridge…

“Terry?  It’s just me,” came Rachel’s voice.  “You had asked us where we wanted to go

and I thought I had better let you know now.  Can you recommend any place in Montana?”

“That I can,” he said, his voice sounding more tired than he had intended.  She was right;

he glanced at his watch and realized that it would be late afternoon in that part of the

States and if they were to have any place at all to land, now would be the time to call. 

Finding a place, though, was more problematic.  “Let me call you back, luv?  I’m …no,

no worries, Rache, you’re good that we should call now.  Just give me a few minutes…” 

Terry looked up to see Deidre re-enter the room, already fitted out for sleeping in a

cream satin nightgown and robe.  He grinned at her with appreciation and then sighed. 

Nolia unwittingly was going to make the next hour more difficult.

“Let me call you back in a few,” he concluded and hung up.  He needed to make phone

calls anyway.

“What’s up?”  Deidre asked, flopping across the bed and pulling a pillow under her. 

Her auburn hair was loosed from its pins and spread out around her shoulders. 

“Rachel and Cort want to go to Montana,” he said, stretching out his free arm for her to

pull on the jacket sleeve.  In a few moments, the jacket was off and he already felt better. 

He then returned to his seat in the alcove, phone in hand, dialing….

“Bud?  Mate, tell me what’s new?”  He listened intently as White growled into the other

end.  Deidre quietly crept to the other chair to sit in the darkness with him.  “Is he now?  Without a word?  Yeah, I know…I shouldn’t be surprised.  Well, mate, I should say this

is as good a time to do what you can for what we talked about, right?  The dinner went

well…he says to tell you hi, Nolia…she says hello back.  Mate, I’m going to have to let

you do the wondering on that for the time being.  I’m wiped.  No, honestly, you can do

more about that than I can at this juncture.  If he shows up and you aren’t ready, stall

him.  Make him think we’re the same as usual.  Well, if you do that, save some for Rachel. 

She’s got a few issues with him herself.  Yeah, she and Cort are deliriously happy.  They

miss you, too and send their best.  I’m needing to arrange their honeymoon destination. 

I will, Bud…oh, just a minute,” Terry added, seeing Deidre hold up her hand and point

to the base of her finger, to his chest.  “If you’re looking for something to do, and you

think you can do it without anyone finding out, have that trouble with your jaw looked

at.  Be thorough,” Terry emphasized.  “No, I can’t.  Yeah, you, too.  Bye.”  He flipped

the cell phone closed with a grimace.

“The Wizard still a humbug?”  Deidre asked.

“A humbug that has apparently flown off in his balloon without saying goodbye,” Terry

replied.  “He’s disappeared,” he explained.  “Again.”

“And Bud is surprised by this?”

“Only in the fact that Sid’s disappearance was so hasty that he and John were able to find

a way into the secret chamber.”  He stopped there, watching Deidre’s reaction.

“That doesn’t bode well,” Deidre muttered.  “No, that was deliberate, I bet you.  He wanted

it to be found.”

Terry shrugged.  “Bud said the signature for the warp was unlike what was usually the

case, according to Charlie.”  He began laughing, a rueful chuckle that summed up all his feelings.  “He’s turned it into a fucking transporter.”

“What?  But that’s…”

“Not what it was set up for, at least not for our work.  He didn’t go into a movie this

time, Charlie said, but merely to another point on the planet.  If that makes any sense,”

he muttered, and rubbed his eyes.  “And apparently he’s taken Maximus and Bree with

him.”

Deidre did not say anything, chose to stare out the window at the tall spire of the Plague Monument in the town square.

“But that’s why I told Bud to do what he had to do and I must do what I have to do, and

right now, I need to call some place in Montana for Cort and Rachel,” Terry sighed and

leaned forward to touch Deidre’s knee with his hand.  “Nolia, it’ll be all right.  Stay with

me,” he said, gently.  He was rewarded with a small smile. 

“I might be able to help with the Montana bit,” she finally said, getting up to sit on the

bed.  “Pull up the internet.  I want to show you Silver Forest…”

When they called the next morning, Terry broke the news that arrangements had been

made for a bed and breakfast in a part of Montana that Deidre said came highly

recommended by friends who lived there. 

“Its called Silver Forest Inn and the jet will take you directly to the airport in Bozeman

where we’ll have a driver take you to the bed and breakfast from there” he said.  “But

you two had better start getting ready, especially you, Rachel.  Deidre says she’ll meet

you at Lisa’s room.” 

When her bags were packed and standing at the door of their room, she stood looking

around to make sure she had not left anything behind.  Volos had already sent her dress

over to the Angel and many of their bags would be sent on to the waiting jet, as they

would depart after dinner.  She thought of the hotel itself, the Mini, Volos.  Had it really

been nearly a month since she arrived, and all by herself?  Had she really been within

these walls and in utter despair?  That seemed almost another life to her as she reviewed

the events that took place.  Now look at them!  Family, old friends, new ones, all to convene

 and rejoice in their wedding, their victorious wedding.

Cort came to stand with her, took both her hands, and held them to his lips.

“A few more hours and I’m all yours,” Rachel said.  She took a deep breath.  “Did you

think this day would ever come?”

"From the moment I had sense enough to know I loved you," he said, kissing her fingertips

one by one, "I wanted this day. And when it was gone because you were gone, there after

the warp, I had this empty pit in me without knowing why. I'd lost you, lost this day, and

I didn't think I'd survive it. But now that you're here, and it is here, there is not a happier,

more complete man on the face of this earth."

Rachel hadn't been gone for more than five minutes when Henri's light rap sounded on

Cort's door.  "Reporting for best man duty," Henri chuckled, glad to see how bright

and chipper Cort was this morning. "You look rested."

"I am," Cort nodded, "and rarin' to go. Seems like a long time till 4 this afternoon,

though."

"Pavel called and he's coming into town for the day. I invited him to join us for breakfast

here in the hotel."

"Good," Cort smiled, glad for the chance to be with both men together.  What a day! He

felt wonderful, free, having tucked any lingering thoughts about the warp way down into

the deepest corners of himself for now, and his favorite people would all be gathering this afternoon under the lime. "Thank you, Henri."

"For what?"

"For being you. For all you did, all you are doing. I just want to be sure you know how

much I appreciate it."

Henri ducked his head, a happy flush creeping up his cheeks. "You ready for breakfast?"

"Flapjacks?"

"I'm sure they have something like that," Henri smiled.

The coffee had just been poured when Father Pavel arrived, pulling out a chair at their

small table. Cort had stood out of respect for the older man, a custom both Henri and

Pavel found endearing.  "You are ready, my brother?"

Cort met Pavel's eyes, letting the priest see into his soul.  "I am," he replied.

Pavel smiled. "I see that you are." He noted that Cort was also no longer rubbing his arms

the way he had yesterday morning. "I am glad. It is good not to be burdened when one

steps through the gateway into marriage."  Pavel's eyes then turned to Henri.  "You are

a happy man today yourself.  You have news you wish to share?"

"I do," Henri replied, then laughed, adding, "though I think that's Cort's line for today

and not mine. But there is something I would like to give you in honor of my son's wedding

and because he knows first hand how help for such things is always needed."

Cort looked at Henri with a puzzled smile.

"Your mission, Cort, and its school for the orphan children."  Henri looked back at

Pavel. "Cort used to run a school rather like the one you have, Father Pavel, but it was

burned to the ground.  If I could, I would rebuild that for him, but the way things are

that is simply not possible. So, in his name, I'd like to give you this...." he quietly handed

Pavel a folded check across the table.  "For both the school and the clinic."

Pavel unfolded the check, sat back in his chair, and puffed his cheeks out in amazement.

After a moment he blew out a long breath, his eyes locking on Henri's.  "So much?"

Cort was blinking back tears. "Henri...," he began, but couldn't find words. He remembered

all too clearly lying beaten in the dirt, watching the mission, the school go up in flames,

watching as the boy tried to run to him, watching then as the blood spread, sinking into

the hot sand of the schoolyard.  "You don't...can't...know...what...."

"I think he has some idea, my brother," Pavel interjected, "as do I."  He rested a hand

on Cort's forearm. "Love is like that. It feels the pain another has known."  Looking at

Henri, he said, "Thank you, Mr. Dawson. With all my heart, thank you."

Cort dashed at the tears with his knuckles. "It was always just so...unfinished, you know.

They dragged me away and I never knew what became of the kids. I was just...gone. But this...today...oh, Henri, is so perfect. Today of all days it's perfect!"  Tears welled again

as he looked at Henri sitting there, so quiet, so unassuming. His heart swelled at the sight

of the humble, good man.  "I...I...haven't yet said this to you, I know, but today...well, if I

could pick a man to be my father, it would be you, no one but you, Henry Dawson. You

are everything a father can be, should be.  I...," he drew in a big breath, "I want, I... need...especially on this day...you to know...I love you."

Henri's mouth was open, his tongue tracing around and around his lips as he listened to

Cort. Then, at the end, he buried his face in his hand, his shoulders shaking.  It was the

first time in more than thirty years that someone...anyone...had said that to him.  Cort

stood, walking around Henri's chair, putting his arm about the thin, shaking shoulders. 

Pavel smiled, tucking the check away.  It was wonderful, glorious even, but the gift of

love always deserved to stand alone.

ON TO PART 35

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