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‘Hey, Katie,’ Mary said, ‘You’re crying?’

‘I must have brushed too hard,’ she lied. ‘I think I’m getting a headache.’

‘I’ll bet you know an old gypsy remedy for that, don’t you?’ The younger girl’s face lit up in anticipation.

‘Oh sure,’ Katie sighed. ‘All we need is about six ounces of lady slipper roots. We boil them for four hours, strain the water, and let it cool. If you drink four ounces every six hours it does the trick!’

‘But we don’t have any lady slippers,’ Mary mourned. ‘I haven’t seen any since last spring.’

‘Well, in that case, maybe a couple of aspirins,’ Katie suggested. ‘And then I’ll get to bed.’

A
cold
front moved through the valleys during the night, and the sun popped up to a true mountain morning. A north wind, with a nip in it, rustled the serried ranks of trees on the mountain, scattering the smoke trails from uncounted hidden house. Occasionally a gust shook the old house, and it creaked like a ship in heavy seas. Katie opened one eye gently, then remembered that this was a travel day, and no one could be spared to help her dress. She scrambled into her chair and wheeled herself into the bathroom, where a brief wash in the hand basin had to make do. Then back to the bedroom, where she struggled into briefs, a half-slip with a camisole top, and the new cranberry blouse and skirt set which she had just purchased. The cast bothered her. It was beginning to disintegrate in an alarming manner, so that sliding into her cotton briefs had been an adventure rather than a discomfort. She pushed herself to her feet so her skirt could fall normally, then settled back in the chair and started for the kitchen.

Everyone was waiting for her. Aunt Grace smiled at her as Mary and Harry busied themselves with the food. ‘Hurry up, Katie,’ she coaxed. ‘His High Mightiness is off on one of his growling moods, and we all have to be in the car in fifteen minutes, or else!’

‘Or else what?’ Katie asked, still not quite awake.

‘Or else the sky will fall, Chicken Little!’ The old lady giggled into her cup of coffee. Katie shook her puzzled head and poured herself a mug of the brew. Obviously that was all she was going to be told, she mused. Or perhaps I should put my foot down and refuse to go. Wouldn’t that be a good thing? Sure it would. I’d put my foot down, and he’d break it, and then I would have casts on both feet, and—oh lordy, she sighed to herself, why am I so confused? I’m over twenty-one, and I’ve been around, so to speak. I wouldn’t be surprised if I’ve kissed more boys than he has girls—well, perhaps not all
that
many. But what I need to do is to—love ’em and leave em? Why that rotten—

‘Daydreaming, Princess?’ The deep bass voice was right in her ear. She jumped, startled, and succeeded in spilling her coffee all over her skirt.

‘Damn you, Harry!’ Her teeth were clenched tight to suppress an outburst. ‘Now I’ll have to change my skirt. Why do you always pussyfoot up on me like that?’

‘Me? Pussyfoot?’ He looked down at her in injured dignity. ‘Mostly because you keep daydreaming, Katie Russel. And the devil you’ll change. We haven’t the time. Air flights won’t wait.’

All of which made him ten times more angry as she took another fifteen minutes to replace her skirt, and then decided to change her blouse too, just to teach him a lesson. By the time she manoeuvred her chair out to the car he was mumbling to himself, and occasionally to the other two very interested women—who were doing their best to appear uninterested.

‘Well, get in,’ He roared at her.

‘I have to take my chair with me,’ she responded primly.

There was another explosion of mumbling, but he climbed out of the driver’s seat, slammed the door as if he were buying a used car, and stomped around to the back, where he folded up her chair and dropped it into the capacious boot of the Mercedes. On his insistence she shared the front seat with him, leaving Aunt Grace and Mary to rattle around in the spacious back seat. The front seat was roomy too, but somehow Katie had considerable difficulty maintaining a space between herself and the driver. It was not until they flashed up to Erwin that he relaxed. And her problems were amplified.

‘You can’t shift gears with my knee,’ she hissed at him.

‘Of course not,’ he returned in an undertone. ‘It’s an automatic-drive car.’ Despite his assurances, the hand was not removed. She sat tense, and yet somewhat pleased as the big car moved along. After all, she told herself, there’s a certain amount of comfort to be had from this outright display of male chauvinism, providing the ladies in the back don’t see it. But both of
them
were busy scanning the white earth of the abandoned Feldspar mine, just outside Erwin, at that moment, and didn’t seem to notice.

They arrived at the Johnson City Airport without incident. Instead of stopping at the passenger terminal,
he
drove them out on to the concrete tarmac, and parked
by
a waiting Cessna 180. The travellers were unloaded, and goodbyes quickly said.

‘I’ll see you after my operation,’ Mary said cheerfully. Katie made affirmative noises, knowing that she would be long gone before the lovable girl returned.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Aunt Grace told Mary. ‘I had a dream about Katie last night. Dreams never lie. She’ll be here, waiting. Dream never tell you false!’

Harry muttered something under his breath, something that sounded suspiciously like ‘Oh, don’t they?’ But that was the moment when the pilot of the Cessna gunned his engine for a run-up test, and in moments they were moving out to the end of the runway, tailing a US AIR 727.

‘They’ll be in Knoxville before we get home,’ Harry grunted. ‘It’s only a little over a hundred miles by air. Hop in.’

She had been just outside the car, leaning on his arm all this time. It had hardly seemed important to get her chair out for such brief goodbyes. But when he helped her into the seat she huddled as far away from him as possible, clutching at the door latch as if she were some parachute jumper, waiting for the green light. He walked around the big Mercedes, and settled down in the driver’s seat with a sigh.

‘Well,’ he said, ‘alone at last!’ He reached into the pocket of his suede jacket and pulled out a cigarette case. ‘Mind if I smoke?’ he asked.

‘Yes, I do,’ she snapped. ‘I mind a great deal!’

For once, she could see, she had penetrated the mask he presented to the world. He sat there for a moment, the silver cigarette case half-opened. Then, shaking his head and sporting a wry smile, he dropped the cigarette back into the case, snapped it closed, and reached over towards her to drop the case in the glove compartment. As his arm grazed her lap she shrank as far away as she could get. He pulled himself erect and stared at her, his heavy eyelids beetling a cold look of appraisal in her direction. He started to say something else, then thought better of it. He put the key in the lock, started the engine, and drove out of the hangar area with a squeal of tires. She stayed in her corner, huddled up against the cold metal of the door handle. How could she explain to him that—very suddenly, just moments ago—she had remembered that she was going back up the mountain with him to the house, where they would be
alone
together for Lord knew how much time!

The drive back to Erwin went in complete silence. She kept her eye resolutely on the scenery outside the window, chuckling once at the antics of a group of youngsters who were dismantling one of the street booths from the Apple Festival. When they turned into Sinasta Drive, just before they reached the hospital, he pulled the big car over to the curb and stopped.

‘Okay,’ he said, ‘what’s the problem?’

‘I—what problem?’ she squeaked.

‘What problem! We’ve driven seventeen miles, and all that time you’ve said not one word.’

‘But Harry—’

‘But Harry—’ he mimicked in a falsetto voice.

‘That’s not fair, Harry!’ She sat up straight and glared at him. ‘You told me yourself that you didn’t like gabby women! All I’ve been doing is just what you told me to!’

‘Oh!’ he had that broad grin on his face again. ‘That’s the last thing in the world I ever expected from you, Katie. Sometimes I don’t say exactly what I mean. You could have said a word or two here and there. Just so you don’t babble. Do you always plan to do what I tell you to?’

‘And that’s not fair, either, Harry,’ she said firmly. ‘I’ve been honest with you. Can you say the same?’

‘Aha,’ he retorted. ‘Not to change the subject, let’s get that cast of yours fixed.’ He started up the engine, and drove the heavy car up to the entrance.

While Harry was taken aside to fill out forms, Dr Foreman whisked Katie into one of the vacant examination booths and knelt down in front of her to examine the damage.

‘Yes,’ he concluded, ‘it has to be changed. Whatever made you decide to go swimming with a cast on your foot?’

‘I didn’t decide,’ she told him grimly, ‘It was more like
a
—a spontaneous idea. Me and my wheelchair!’

‘Oh? The chair went in too? How about that!’ He chuckled as he picked up his little electric saw and split the cast down its side. She could feel the instant relief as the pressure was removed from the uninjured segments of her leg and foot. The doctor smiled at her, and applied
a
small amount of skin cream to the uncovered areas.

‘Itches like the devil, doesn’t it?’ he commented, as his gentle fingers massaged the area. ‘Got a bad temper, have you? He’s a good man.’

‘What in the world are you talking about?’ she gasped.

‘I’ve known Harry, man and boy, for twenty-five years,’ he returned. ‘Sometimes he’s not very articulate—especially when he’s serious and doesn’t want anyone to realise. He’s a good man, for all that.’

‘Maybe,’ she sighed. ‘But you’re not a woman.’

‘He’s still a good man.’ He got up to punctuate the conversation. ‘Now, we’ll have you up to X-ray for another picture. Then perhaps we could put a walking cast on your foot. That doesn’t mean that you go walking on it, you know. Crutches will be the name of the game!’

Two hours later they were back in the car. She turned her new plaster boot back and forth, admiring its smallness more than its shape.

‘Henry says you still have to take it easy,’ Harry reminded her. Those were the first words he had addressed to her since they entered the hospital.

‘I know,’ she returned. They had turned around and were going back the way they had come, back towards Johnson City.

‘This isn’t the way home—way to your house,’ she objected.

‘Not yet,’ he returned. ‘We have a couple of prescriptions to fill. My favourite drugstore is down on Main Street.’ He manoeuvred the big car down Gay and parked at the corner of Main, where a big REXALL sign advertised everything from prescriptions to patent medicines, from candy to cosmetics, and, of course, the inevitable soda fountain and sandwiches. Everything a normal American drugstore would carry. ‘Wait for me,’ he said as he opened his door.

Sure, wait for me! What the devil did he think I was going to do, run all the way back to Charlotte? If only he were not so casual about the whole thing! Wait for me. I’m not the marrying kind. For the first time in Katie’s young life a thought ran through her mind—‘and maybe I’m not either?’ What would it be like if she offered him what he really wanted? Suppose—just suppose, when we go back up the mountain, he asked me to—to do it, and I said yes. A delicious shiver ran up and down her spine. Her imagination ran riot, spurred by an almost complete lack of facts and experience. She substituted fiction where fact was not available, and embroidered on things she thought might be true. There was a vacuous smile on her face when he came back. Her mouth was half open, and her tongue glided sensually over her full lips.

‘Katie?’ He shook her shoulder gently. His touch snapped her out of her fantasy. She was breathing too fast, unable to completely control her dream-reaction.

Almost unconsciously she leaned towards him as he settled in behind the wheel, lifting her glowing face up to him, eyes sparkling.

‘Well!’ he muttered in astonishment. He slid over in the seat, wrapped one big arm around her shoulders, and gently kissed her. The shock of contact finally penetrated her mental curtains. With a gasp almost of terror she withdrew, crowding over against the door again, breaking out of his gentle grasp.

His arm dropped to the seat as those deep eyes surveyed her huddled form. ‘I
did
think you were offering,’ he said sarcastically. ‘Excuse
me!'

He moved over behind the wheel and put the key to the ignition. ‘I don’t understand why you’re so jumpy, Katie,’ he prompted.

‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ she replied. ‘Can’t we just—just find something else to talk about?’

‘You bet. What?’

‘It’s a—a nice town, Erwin.’

‘City,’ he replied caustically. ‘City. Almost five thousand people live here. Yes, it’s nice.’

‘All farmers, I suppose?’

‘Oh no. There’s a small but growing factory base in the area. A couple of industrial parks, a nuclear research facility, railroad offices, that kind of thing. How about the weather—that’s an innocuous subject. Or would you prefer to tell me the name of the subject that we’re
not
going to talk about, and then I won’t have to be so careful.’

‘All right, Harry.’ She faced straight ahead, smoothed down the wrinkles in her skirt, and licked her lips nervously. ‘When we go home—when we get to your house,’ she amended, ‘we’re going to be all alone. Just the two of us. Nobody else. Amanda won’t be there. Just you and me.’ She looked over at him quickly, screening her face as best she could behind her curls.

‘There’s nothing wrong with your arithmetic,’ he responded, ‘but your English is terrible. Just you and I—’

‘Don’t pick nits,’ she snarled at him. ‘You and—we’ll be all alone in that house, ten miles from any neighbour. I don’t think my mother would approve!’ He started to say something but she held up her hand to stop him. ‘But if I do stay there is to be no more of this kissing and touching, and things like that, and that’s what we’re not going to discuss
^-
. You hear!’