Illusions (8/28) - PG

      Barbara Lavelle (blavelle@sherbtel.net)
      Thu, 8 Feb 2001 12:38:21 -0600

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      --------
      Chapter Eight
      
      
      The next morning, Caitlin's emotions wavered between fear and excitement
      at seeing Duncan again. After the painful experience of her divorce,
      she'd sworn off getting involved in a relationship again, at least not
      for a very long time. Everything was happening too fast. She wasn't sure
      she could trust her feelings after the emotional roller coaster she'd
      been on. Maybe she was getting in over her head. But, there was
      something compelling about him. Something mysterious. He excited her in
      a way she couldn't explain. It went beyond his dark, smoldering good
      looks, it was the man himself. She very much wanted to see him again.
      
      Trying not to dwell on her misgivings, she spent the rest of the day
      deliberately keeping herself  busy to keep her mind off the coming
      evening.
      
      At seven-forty-five, after changing her clothes three times, unable to
      decide what to wear from the limited wardrobe she had brought with her,
      Caitlin nervously paced as she waited. Her heart caught in her throat,
      when promptly at eight o'clock he walked up the front steps and stood
      smiling at her as she stepped to the door to let him in.
      
      "Are you ready?" He said, his eyes moving over her, appreciating the way
      the casual ankle-length, pale yellow cotton dress hugged her body. She'd
      left the skirt unbuttoned from the knees down for easy movement, giving
      him a discrete view of her shapely legs as she walked
      
      "Yes, I'll just get my purse," she said, liking the way his warm gaze
      moved over her. Looking around before leaving, she made sure she'd left
      a lamp on and the radio playing to keep Tanya company.
      
      Waiting for Caitlin to lock the door, Duncan took her arm lightly as
      they moved down the  path towards the waiting canoe. Caitlin watched
      Duncan stroke the paddle into the water with what appeared to be little
      effort, she was again reminded how gracefully he moved and how confident
      he seemed in everything he did.
      
      Beaching the canoe a short time later, Caitlin was impressed by her
      first close-up view of the cabin. The split-logged exterior was
      attractively weathered, giving the wood a dark brownish-gray patina, and
      the design reminded her of some of the historical photographs she had
      seen of homes built by early pioneers who settled in this area of the
      upper northwest. As they neared the cabin Duncan pointed out the ancient
      stone marker with its mystical hieroglyphics as they passed. Stopping to
      inspect its cravings, Caitlin couldn't resist running her fingers over
      the deep grooves. "This is beautiful Duncan." She murmured, then turned
      to look at the cabin again. "And the cabin, the original structure must
      be at least one hundred years old."
      
      Startled by her expert analysis of its history, he was momentarily at a
      loss for words. The number of people he had brought to the cabin over
      the years since he built it, could be counted on one hand. No one had
      ever commented on its structural history before, not even Tessa with her
      artist's eye for detail.
      
      Seeing he was apparently surprised by her comments, she said. "Sorry,
      it's nothing obvious, it's an occupational hazard, mentally appraising
      structures I come across. I'm an architect, I've studied some of
      original cabins preserved by the historical society in this area, but
      I've never seen anything as finely maintained as this. It's quite rare
      to find these original buildings still standing. Especially one in such
      fine condition. How long have you owned it?"
      
      Looking at the cabin again, he said quietly, emotion thickening his
      voice slightly. "Oh, it's been in the family for years."
      
      Thinking the emotion in his voice came from family pride, Caitlin
      continued. "You're fortunate to have inherited it, it's a fine example
      of Early American craftsmanship."
      
      Duncan scanned the exterior of the cabin again, and said, "Really, I
      didn't realize." And smiled to himself.
      
      Still smiling as he escorted her inside, Caitlin was met by the soft
      glow of the lamps Duncan had left burning and the aroma from something
      delicious cooking in the kitchen.
      
      "Umm, something smells good."
      
      "Baked trout with pine nuts and wild mushroom rice pilaf," he informed her.
      
      "So, you're a gourmet cook too. I'm becoming more impressed all the time
      by your many talents." Caitlin said, smiling with admiration.
      "Maybe you should wait until you've tasted it, before being too
      impressed." He said with a raised eyebrow and self-effacing smile.
      
      Ushering her towards the sofa he said. "Make yourself comfortable while
      I check on dinner."
      
      Hearing those words for the first time from a man, brought a giggle to
      Caitlin's lips.
      
      "And what's so funny?" Duncan inquired, wondering what he'd said that
      set her to giggling.
      
      Caitlin stopped laughing, but her eyes still sparkled with amusement.
      "I'm sorry for laughing, it's just that, well, that's usually my line."
      
      "Oh really, well tonight I'm the lord and master of the kitchen. So go
      sit down, put your feet up and enjoy lounging about for a while. Would
      you like a glass of wine while you're waiting?"
      
      "Yes, I would, thanks." Caitlin said, still smiling.
      
      Duncan went into the kitchen and came back with a glass of white
      zinfandel, and handed it to her as she seated herself on the sofa before
      the fireplace.
      
      "Are you sure I can't help you with something?" Caitlin asked.
      
      "Nope. Just relax and enjoy your wine. It should only be a few more
      minutes." That said, he returned to the kitchen. Caitlin thought she
      could hear him humming over the sound of pots and pans being rattled around.
      
      Rising , she sipped her wine as she admired the large stone fireplace
      that dominated the room, and then continued to wander around, surprised
      by its eclectic furnishings. The high ceiling with its exposed wood
      trusses, joined clinked-filled walls decorated with a diverse collection
      of art works in various sizes and types. The furniture and light
      fixtures were not only from different eras but, different countries. Yet
      the colors and styles blended together to form a very charming,
      welcoming room. A large trestle table, surrounded by six intricately
      carved high-backed wooden chairs, sat at one end of the room and was
      obviously set for dinner.
      
      Passing by a beautifully carved credenza, she noticed a framed
      photograph of Duncan with beautiful blonde-haired woman. Setting her
      wine glass down, she picked up the heavy antique bronze frame and gazed
      at the happy, smiling couple.
      
      "Caitlin, dinner is ready, if you'd like, you could give me a hand
      carrying things in from the kitchen."
      
      Startled by his voice, Caitlin almost dropped the ornate frame. Looking
      guiltily around, she realized he had spoken from the kitchen. Relieved
      he hadn't seen her, she carefully sat the picture back down and moved
      towards the kitchen.
      
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