The Endless Forest
Page 133
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They were standing just feet away from the point where the water came out of the mountain to fall, first unrestricted and then layer by layer into the lake below. The pulse of the water in the rock beat like a heart.
It seemed that they would have to make their way down a loose and very steep path. Martha remembered now that Daniel had produced moccasins this morning and suggested they’d be more comfortable than her fancy city shoes.
“You just happen to have moccasins sitting around?”
“Borrowed them from Ma,” he said. “Until Annie has time to make you a pair.”
So he had been planning this yesterday when they sat in his parent’s parlor. It seemed Daniel had the habit of making plans and keeping them to himself until the last minute. She didn’t know whether to be pleased or put out about that in general, but at this moment she was overcome with affection and happiness; he had planned this, for her.
“I’ll go first,” Daniel said.
“Good,” Martha said, a little breathlessly. “You can catch me.”
He winked at her. “Always, darlin’.”
A bolt had been driven into the bedrock, with a heavy rope coiled beside it. Daniel threw the rope down the incline and then started after it. He moved easily, never losing purchase or even hesitating about where best to put a foot.
Now was not the time to lose confidence. When he was just out of sight, she started down after him.
When the rope ended they were standing on a small plateau. Daniel pointed out a fissure in the rock face, and then he simply disappeared into it. Martha counted to ten and followed him. The cave opened directly onto the falling water, which acted like a curtain that admitted light to dance on the walls.
It was a simple cave, with nothing to mark it but the wolf skulls that had been wedged into a cleft in one wall. At the back, where the shadows were deeper, she could see that a boulder stood like an open door and that from there, a passageway led deeper into the mountain. Daniel put his ear to her mouth and raised his voice.
“Another cave, just about this size, but quieter. Do you want to see it?”
But of course there was little to see; they had no fire to light a torch, and here the light from the falls did not penetrate.
His voice echoed. “We used to store furs up here, and food. Back in the old days when the mountain still belonged to my grandfather Middleton.”
She knew that story, and she knew too that her grandfather Southern had a role to play in it that was nothing to be proud of.
“You don’t store things here now?”
“Sometimes we do. Not just now.”
“It must be very cold here in the winter.”
“There’s a pile of furs here at that time of year, some basic provisions. We’ll have to come in January and you can see for yourself.”
Martha didn’t doubt his word, but at this moment perspiration was running down between her breasts, and she was glad to get back to the cool breeze in the foremost cave. Daniel came up behind her and she said what was on her mind.
“Everybody knows we’re here.” And bit her lip, because it sounded so girlish, almost coy even to her own ear. She tried again.
“They think we’re—we’re—”
“Most probably,” Daniel said. His tone was patient and easy and infuriating.
She leaned back against him and let out a sigh. “I suppose that’s part and parcel of being married. But I don’t like it.”
Daniel’s hand came around and opened in front of her. On the flat of his palm was a ring. The band was gold, its flat surface incised with a twining vine and tiny leaves and flowers.
“I hope you’ll like this.”
Martha drew in a sharp breath and nodded. It wasn’t until Daniel had put the ring on her finger that she could take her eyes away long enough to look at him.
“It’s beautiful. How—where—”
“Joshua does a little fine work when he has the time,” Daniel said. “He made this a few months ago. If you want something different he can do that too, but not until the rebuilding is finished.”
“I like this one,” Martha said, twirling it on her finger to demonstrate that it was a little too big. “Maybe I’ll grow into it.” And she laughed at her own joke.
“Joshua will adjust it for you. You want me to take it for now, so it doesn’t get lost?”
“That’s not likely,” she said.
“It is if we go swimming. You did say you wanted to swim, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but don’t we need to get back for supper?”
“We’ll take the shortcut,” he said.
Daniel walked right up to the edge, where the cave floor dropped away into the falling water, and held out his hand. She went to him, but cautiously. Her skin rose in goose bumps all along her back.
“We’d have plenty of time if we started from here.” He was looking at her in a particularly calculating way, and in that moment she realized what he was suggesting.
“You don’t mean it,” she said. Shocked and excited too.
“Oh, I mean it.”
“It must be dangerous.”
“We all do it. I’ve been jumping into the lake from here since Da taught me to swim.”
“What if I can’t swim?”
He looked at her.
“All right, I can swim. But—but—” She laughed. “Whatever they imagine us doing, this is not it.”
It seemed that they would have to make their way down a loose and very steep path. Martha remembered now that Daniel had produced moccasins this morning and suggested they’d be more comfortable than her fancy city shoes.
“You just happen to have moccasins sitting around?”
“Borrowed them from Ma,” he said. “Until Annie has time to make you a pair.”
So he had been planning this yesterday when they sat in his parent’s parlor. It seemed Daniel had the habit of making plans and keeping them to himself until the last minute. She didn’t know whether to be pleased or put out about that in general, but at this moment she was overcome with affection and happiness; he had planned this, for her.
“I’ll go first,” Daniel said.
“Good,” Martha said, a little breathlessly. “You can catch me.”
He winked at her. “Always, darlin’.”
A bolt had been driven into the bedrock, with a heavy rope coiled beside it. Daniel threw the rope down the incline and then started after it. He moved easily, never losing purchase or even hesitating about where best to put a foot.
Now was not the time to lose confidence. When he was just out of sight, she started down after him.
When the rope ended they were standing on a small plateau. Daniel pointed out a fissure in the rock face, and then he simply disappeared into it. Martha counted to ten and followed him. The cave opened directly onto the falling water, which acted like a curtain that admitted light to dance on the walls.
It was a simple cave, with nothing to mark it but the wolf skulls that had been wedged into a cleft in one wall. At the back, where the shadows were deeper, she could see that a boulder stood like an open door and that from there, a passageway led deeper into the mountain. Daniel put his ear to her mouth and raised his voice.
“Another cave, just about this size, but quieter. Do you want to see it?”
But of course there was little to see; they had no fire to light a torch, and here the light from the falls did not penetrate.
His voice echoed. “We used to store furs up here, and food. Back in the old days when the mountain still belonged to my grandfather Middleton.”
She knew that story, and she knew too that her grandfather Southern had a role to play in it that was nothing to be proud of.
“You don’t store things here now?”
“Sometimes we do. Not just now.”
“It must be very cold here in the winter.”
“There’s a pile of furs here at that time of year, some basic provisions. We’ll have to come in January and you can see for yourself.”
Martha didn’t doubt his word, but at this moment perspiration was running down between her breasts, and she was glad to get back to the cool breeze in the foremost cave. Daniel came up behind her and she said what was on her mind.
“Everybody knows we’re here.” And bit her lip, because it sounded so girlish, almost coy even to her own ear. She tried again.
“They think we’re—we’re—”
“Most probably,” Daniel said. His tone was patient and easy and infuriating.
She leaned back against him and let out a sigh. “I suppose that’s part and parcel of being married. But I don’t like it.”
Daniel’s hand came around and opened in front of her. On the flat of his palm was a ring. The band was gold, its flat surface incised with a twining vine and tiny leaves and flowers.
“I hope you’ll like this.”
Martha drew in a sharp breath and nodded. It wasn’t until Daniel had put the ring on her finger that she could take her eyes away long enough to look at him.
“It’s beautiful. How—where—”
“Joshua does a little fine work when he has the time,” Daniel said. “He made this a few months ago. If you want something different he can do that too, but not until the rebuilding is finished.”
“I like this one,” Martha said, twirling it on her finger to demonstrate that it was a little too big. “Maybe I’ll grow into it.” And she laughed at her own joke.
“Joshua will adjust it for you. You want me to take it for now, so it doesn’t get lost?”
“That’s not likely,” she said.
“It is if we go swimming. You did say you wanted to swim, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but don’t we need to get back for supper?”
“We’ll take the shortcut,” he said.
Daniel walked right up to the edge, where the cave floor dropped away into the falling water, and held out his hand. She went to him, but cautiously. Her skin rose in goose bumps all along her back.
“We’d have plenty of time if we started from here.” He was looking at her in a particularly calculating way, and in that moment she realized what he was suggesting.
“You don’t mean it,” she said. Shocked and excited too.
“Oh, I mean it.”
“It must be dangerous.”
“We all do it. I’ve been jumping into the lake from here since Da taught me to swim.”
“What if I can’t swim?”
He looked at her.
“All right, I can swim. But—but—” She laughed. “Whatever they imagine us doing, this is not it.”