Going Home V: Where the Heart Is
by Maureen S. O'Brien

Author's Note: This section is dedicated to Andrew Greeley,
mostly because he likes lakes a lot, but certainly because
his works gave me some ideas for this. And even if the 
helicopter-flying Caitlin in his books is not a tribute to our
Caitlin -- and that's what he says -- she certainly has
similar personality traits. So, this one's for the good
Father (whether he wants it or not!).

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"But do not be afraid, for she was set apart for you
before the world existed." ... [Then] ...he fell deeply 
in love with her, and his heart became set on her.
--- Tobit 6: 17

...you shall bring joy to my daughter's sorrowing spirit.
--- Tobit 9:20
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"Where're you going?  The food's that way." 

"Tell Dom I don't feel like eating."  He turned to walk 
away.

"Tell him yourself!" Cait's temper flared.  "Who do you 
think you are, mister, ordering me around?" She stomped 
around him and blocked his way down the trail. "What right 
do you have to treat me like I don't exist, when I just want 
to...." She didn't say it.  He'd shy off for certain.
 
"Damn it, it's not fair! I've known you for 3 years! We've 
saved each other's lives! And if Tet were out here instead 
of in begging food from Half Pint, you'd be payin' more 
attention to that hound's feelings than mine!"

Cait took a breath. "Not that I have anything against the 
ol' dog.  But geez, Hawke!  Here you are, with a bunch of 
friends over, and the brother you've been missing for all 
these years, and your nephew too, and what're you gonna do? 
Go brood about the family you've lost, instead of stayin' 
with the family you've found!" 

Her shoulders slumped a little. "I know I can't tell any 
horror stories about my life to match yours, Hawke. I can't 
understand everything you've gone through. But I care about 
you, and I worry about you, and I want you to be happy. At 
least come and eat something before you go brood. Otherwise, 
you're gonna have such low blood sugar you'd be depressed if 
they'd just elected you President."

"Hell, that'd depress anyone." Hawke smiled, just a little. 
Cait smiled back, tentative.  

"Sorry, Hawke.  I shouldn't've mouthed off like that."

"Why not?" He looked wry. "You were right and I was wrong.  
Someone has to tell me when I've got tunnel vision."

Cait opened her mouth to reply -- and her stomach rumbled.  
Hawke burst out laughing. So did she. A certain tension went 
out of the air. 

Hawke grinned.  "I'd say that's a sign.  Let's go eat." Cait 
grinned back and turned to walk down the path.  

He liked to see that bounce in her step, telling the world 
she couldn't wait to see what was around the next bend in 
the trail.  She'd had her share of horror stories, he mused.  
And yet, no one who saw her would guess how many times she'd 
been in danger, or how dangerous she could be.  She was a 
lot like St. John in that.  They'd make a good couple.

"So," he said casually, "how're you and St. John getting 
along?"

She shrugged, not bothering to look back. "Fine. He gave
me some good advice after he realized I was interested in
someone. And Marella looks pretty happy; I hope it works 
out for them."

"I guess I really did have tunnel vision.  Marella. Huh."  
Then String laughed.  "And who's this 'someone' you're 
interested in?  Do we know him?"

Cait swung around, blushing like fire. "You could say that."

"So who is he?" String teased her.  "Somebody out at the 
airport? Or...it's not Michael, is it?" His voice went 
serious for a minute. "You should think twice before you get 
involved with him.  He's not the kind that likes being tied 
down."  

He glanced at Caitlin to see how she was taking this advice.

She was laughing at him.  

"Stringfellow Hawke," she said, gasping for breath, "You 
are, without a doubt, the most...." She cracked up.

"What'd I say?"  

Cait whooped and lost it anew.  She recovered in time to eat 
dinner before it got cold, but it was a near thing.

------------------------------------------------------------

It was a lovely night.  The sky was clear. The moon was 
new; but that only meant that every shy star in the sky came 
out to dance with its reflection in Eagle Lake, as the 
ripples kept time.  The night noises of the forest were 
familiar and soothing to the humans there.  They joined in, 
making music for the dance.

St. John had the guitar.  He could only play three chords, 
but there were lots of songs with three chords.  Songs that 
people could sing along with. Nothing younger than 'Nam, but 
for singalongs, that was an advantage.

String had pulled out his cello for the first time in weeks.  
Cait was sure that her mother would be shocked at someone 
using a Strad to play "Michael, Row the Boat Ashore" and 
"Kumbaya"; Heck, she was shocked to hear Hawke, much less 
Michael, singing "Kumbaya", and she'd never sung the thing 
since...yeah, the night she'd made stew out of that pair of 
rattlesnakes in the troopleader's tent!  But you know, it 
wasn't such a bad song, really. And her mother didn't
look particularly shocked.

She put her arms over Half Pint and String's shoulders 
(careful not to touch the cello) and swayed a little with a 
beat. String laughed.  She grinned back.  Oh, yeah, camp 
songs had their advantages.

After a while, though, Marella had plainly decided that camp 
songs also had their disadvantages, when it was her guy holding 
the guitar.  She whispered something to St. John, and they 
wandered off. 

Half Pint whispered, "Way to go, Dad!" Dom gave him a look 
and he subsided; but Dom was grinning, too. 

The singalong dissolved into conversation, while String 
occasionally played softly.  One tune caught Cait's 
attention.  "I know that song!  We did that in choir class!"

"What? The whole New World Symphony?" String teased.

Cait let her voice go exaggeratedly Texas. "No...Antonin 
Dvorak wrote lots of songs and op-er-as, but one of his 
students put words to a motif from the New World. Even a 
little ol' Texas gal  knows that," she said sweetly.  "You 
know," she said in her  normal voice. "'Going Home'"

String knew, and he played it. Caitlin was not a great 
voice, but this song would work for her.

"Goin' home,
Goin' home,
I'm a-goin' home.
Quiet-like,
Some fine day,
I'm a-goin' 
Home."

The music went up and down and around, but the words never 
varied -- just the feeling behind them.  Cait's voice had 
really gone Texas now.  He could hear the longing in her 
voice, and he wondered what she was seeing.  Her family?  
Some lost love?

But now the music changed again, and Cait's voice changed 
with it. She still had a bit of Texas, but more California -
- and she sang with serenity, quiet pride, maybe even 
triumph.  With a shock, String realized what she was 
singing. Texas wasn't her home anymore. California was. 
Santini Air. 

Eagle Lake.  

He brought his mind back to what he was doing and 
accompanied her, bringing the song to a close just as she 
did.  There was silence for a moment.  Then Michael began to 
clap, with no trace of sarcasm.  Dom had heard what Cait was 
singing, too. He hugged Cait tight and kissed her on both 
cheeks, shouting, "Brava! Bravissima!" 

But all the time, String felt Cait's eyes on him, asking 
what he thought. He only knew how she'd made him feel. He 
carefully put his cello away, where it would be safe, and 
then he came back to Cait. Dom saw him coming and made way. 

String looked her in the eye.  "That's the best I've ever 
heard that sung," he told her quietly.

"Thanks," she said, suddenly shy.  "I'm glad you liked it."

He handed her a glass of water.  Not wine.  Wine dries the 
throat.  She drank it, suddenly drymouthed.  He watched her 
do it, and carefully put the glass aside when she was done.  

Archangel went inside the cabin for some reason, and Dom 
coincidentally decided it was time to take Le in. String 
didn't worry about it. He just sat down on the steps. 

"Just look at those stars," he said.

Cait sat down next to him, back on familiar territory. "They 
just get prettier and prettier," she agreed.

String looked at them.  Then he looked back at Cait.  Her 
head was at about the same level, sitting down, as his 
cello's.  He smiled a little at the thought.  Then a picture 
came into his mind: Cait's head on his shoulder, Cait 
leaning where the cello did....

He wrenched his mind away.

Cait was smiling at him. "Penny for your thoughts?"

He raised an eyebrow.  "I don't think you want to know."

"You were smiling, not brooding." 

"I was just thinking."  He shrugged his way off this 
embarrassing ground. "You really like the cabin, don't you."

"And the lake, and the woods, and the creek...it's all so 
different from where I grew up.  It's not that I didn't love 
Texas," she hurried to say. "Texas is beautiful, too.  It's 
just that Eagle Lake is beautiful in such different ways."

They were quiet for a while.  "You know something?" said 
Cait. "For a place that's so...natural, so wild, I've never 
been anywhere that had so much of a single person stamped 
on it."

"It might be fairer to say that Eagle Lake's stamped itself 
on me," answered String. "Not many people want to stay in 
one place long enough for that to happen."   

"First you have to find the place.  Most people don't get 
that lucky."  

"Yeah," he grinned. "And when you find it, you'd better hope 
nobody else owns the place, or you won't get to live there." 

Cait looked wry.  "Like looking for true love.  No 
guarantees. But if you ever did find that place, you'd want 
to stay there for the rest of your life. I mean, why would 
you want to be anywhere else? That's like love, too."

It hurt, what she was saying.  He had to change the mood.  
"So," he teased, "have you found that place?"

Cait looked into his eyes.  She had to tell him.  She 
couldn't tell him. Her mouth felt as though it had frozen shut. 

Tell him. 

You'll lose him.  

Tell him.

"Yes," she said. "And the person, too."

She couldn't bear to look.  She closed her eyes and listened 
to her heart beating in her ears.

String's jaw had dropped.  Me?  Why me?  I'm old, compared 
to you. I'm....

I'm making you wait for me to answer you.  Your proposal. 
Cait.  Oh, Cait.

"Caitlin."

Her eyes flew open.

"If you're sure you want me."

"Sure?" Relieved and mock-outraged, she plastered herself to 
String. "I'm pretty sure!" Her hands cupped his face firmly, 
gently. She looked into his eyes. "I'm sure," she said 
quietly. "Sure as I love you."  

Then she kissed him.

She had done a lot of dreaming about that moment.  But 
dreams don't have arms to hold you, or hands burying 
themselves in your hair, or tiny bits of stubble scratching 
against your cheek, or someone murmuring little names you 
never thought anyone would ever call you. Dreams don't 
include the incredible knowledge that this is real, that the 
one person you love the most in all the world loves you 
deeply and desperately and true. 

Dreams? 

They don't even come close.

But dreams also don't feature an audience in the cabin.

"Uncle Dom! Michael! Look! Uncle String's finally kissing 
Cait!"

"Shh!" Dom said loudly. "Leave 'em be."

Michael's voice drifted out from the cabin.  "You know, 
young man, you might want to remember that you'll want to go 
out on dates soon. And that revenge is sweet."  They heard 
the window shut. Cait giggled.  

String sighed. "Remind me again why families are a good idea."

"As long as you remind me not to murder my mother when she 
finds out I've finally got me a man."  They laughed again. No 
reason in particular.  They just felt like laughing. Then 
they felt like kissing.  This time, they were less frantic.  
Why not?  They had the rest of their lives.

"Since you proposed, I think you should get me the 
engagement ring," String said when they came up for air.

"In that case, I hope you're not expecting some big rock.  
Unless it's cubic zirconium.  My grandmother was promising 
me her rings...but I don't think Grandma ever had as big of 
fingers as you do."

"Oh, we could probably jam it on my pinky." He laughed. "I 
guess I'll just have to fight St. John for our mother's 
rings."

Cait chuckled.  "Aren't you forgetting something?"

"What?"

"Just three words."

"I love you." He kissed her again.  "I love you, Caitlin 
O'Shannessy. I loved you the first time I saw you."

"I love you, Stringfellow Hawke." She brushed back a strand 
of hair that was falling into his eyes. "What, trying to 
fight off three of those Polk County varmints?"

"And doing a pretty good job of it, too.... Yes." He kissed 
her palm. "Though it took me long enough to realize it. 
Damn, Cait! We could have been doing this for years!" He 
held her tighter. "Dom told me, and I didn't listen. Even 
when you came to California, even when they had us as 
doubles for the kiss before that stunt, I didn't let myself 
realize."

She snuggled into him. "I never had the courage to ask you. 
I never thought you.... You could do so much better than me, 
Hawke. I'm not even pretty."

He stopped teasing her with his fingers and cupped her face 
in his hands. "That's not true, Caitlin."

"Of course it is! I've looked in the mirror enough! I guess 
I look okay, but compared to most of the people out here, 
I'm plain."

"You are beautiful. You have a beautiful face and a 
beautiful body. You have beautiful eyes and beautiful hair 
and beautiful hands and even beautiful freckles. And I'm 
sure the parts of you I haven't seen are even more lovely. 

"But even if you weren't beautiful -- which you are -- I 
couldn't do better than you. You're brave, Cait. You're 
bright. You always see the best in people, even though you 
rarely miss a thing they do. You work hard, and you never 
give up on anyone -- except yourself. You make me feel 
happy to be alive, Cait, and I want you happy. I want you to 
know how special you really are." He looked at her 
anxiously. "So don't bad-mouth yourself."

Cait had never heard so many words out of String at one 
time. "I guess I have to believe you," she said wonderingly. 
"But that Cait doesn't sound like the one I know."

"Then you don’t know her as well as I do." He smiled at her, 
and those incredible eyes of his willed her to believe. She 
knew he wasn't lying. She knew he had good judgement. And if 
he was right....

"I never told you why I call you Hawke all the time," she 
said. 

"No, you didn't." His eyes glinted with humor again. "And 
now that my brother's home, you'll have to start using my 
first name."

"I'll try. But honestly, your last name suits you better." 
She looked at him, blushing a little. "But the reason I call 
you Hawke -- it's because you make me feel like flying."

His heart soared. "What does that make you?" he teased her 
gently."Ladyhawke?"

Her laugh rang out again. "You saw that movie too? Oh, we're 
a pair. Pretending to be so practical but really just 
hopeless romantics. Well, I'm lucky you are."

"I'm lucky, too." He snorted. "Imagine me, lucky!"

The stars danced on the water and in their eyes.


The next morning, Caitlin O'Shannessy woke up bright and 
bushytailed. For a moment, she couldn't remember why she 
felt so happy. It wasn't her birthday, and Christmas wasn't 
for months yet....

Then she looked at the gold band on her finger. She looked 
up from the couch towards the closed bedroom door at the top 
of the stairs, and her face softened. "He loves me," she 
whispered. 

She looked out the windows. The morning air was already hot. 
By noon it was going to be a scorcher. Then she looked out 
at Eagle Lake, calm and cool. But, for String and St. John,
full of ghosts.

Her eyes narrowed wickedly.

It was time for a little exorcism.


Afterwards, String realized he should have seen the warning 
signs. Cait was acting just a little too good to be true. But 
he had slept more soundly that night than he had in years, 
totally untroubled by nightmares. Every time a bad dream 
started coming on, it turned into Cait's hair and Cait's 
eyes and Cait's mouth. Even his unconscious mind couldn't 
concentrate on anything but her.

So when he woke up and found Cait making French toast for 
everyone, he wasn't suspicious. When he kept seeing her 
drawing people aside to talk and joke with them, he assumed 
she was just feeling social.  And when she sat down
and leaned her head on his shoulder, he was only glad that 
she was there. As the day grew steadily hotter, he didn't 
notice the anticipation in the air. 

Caitlin bided her time. She sat outside on the porch with the
others or played with Le. Finally, her stomach clock rang. 
About an hour before lunchtime. Now.

She stood up. "Ladies and gentlemen, I have an announcement
to make."

String noticed his family turning with unusual promptitude.

"Last one in is a rotten egg!"

Cait dashed off like a deer. At the edge of the dock, she paused
to strip off her T-shirt and shorts, revealing a bright green bikini 
swimsuit underneath. Le Van hurtled after her, closely pursued 
by Singe. Dom revealed baggy red-white-and-blue swim trunks.
Marella jogged off with a little more dignity, in an intensely red 
one-piece. 

(You guessed it. Archangel was wearing white.)

(Sorry. They were lined.)

Dom grinned at String. "Better hurry."

String was still in shock. "I don't know where my trunks are."

"So? You got shorts." Dom demonstrated, taking off his T-shirt
and shoes and starting to carry them down to the water's edge.

"But...."

From far out in the lake, Caitlin waved at String and cupped her
hands around her mouth. "Hawke, you slowpoke!" she called. "You
ain't never gonna catch me at this rate!" She flashed back
underneath the water and was gone.

"Oh, yeah? We'll see about that!" String yelled. He took off his 
shoes and socks in a rush and raced toward the water, strewing his 
shirt behind him as he ran.

Dom laughed, then gazed up into the heavens. "When You made
that girl, You did good work!" Then he strolled on down to the
lake, watching all the kids play.

Marella was skimming the surface with her arm, creating a wall of 
water that landed squarely on St. John. He vanished beneath the 
water. Marella immediately began evasive maneuvers, but Singe 
caught one foot and yanked her down. She kicked free, careful not 
to hit him in the face, and began to prepare a counterattack. 
Neither combatant noticed that Michael and Le were coming at them 
from behind, so they suffered an ignominious dunking.

Marella gave her once and former boss the hairy eyeball. "My name 
is Marella. You dunked my boyfriend. Prepare to die."

"This isn't The Princess Bride," Michael retorted. "It's Spy vs. Spy."

"White Hat is a wimp."

"Them's fightin' words."

Watery carnage broke out again. Dom grinned as he swam toward them. 
They wouldn't even notice he was there until it was too late.

Further out in the lake, String was chasing Cait. 
She knew it was only a matter of time. He had
more reach, more strength, and hence more
speed; and truth to tell, she wanted him to 
catch her. But she'd never thrown a game in her
whole life, and the longer she stayed free the 
better the bragging rights.

She almost got away. She managed to break off 
and swim for a bit of shore that got her out of
his sight for long enough to go underwater and
change direction. She swam for as long as she
had breath.

But when she surfaced, Hawke was there.

She grimaced. "Dang! How'd I give myself away?
Did I break the surface along the way or what?"

"Nope. I just figured where you'd be heading."

"Guess you know me too well."

"Not well enough." He kissed her. She wound
her arms around him and leaned in, keeping her
eyes open. They were the same height, for once,
and she liked the view. 

And the feel. Her bare arms on his bare back. She 
moved one hand to his chest. Cool water, rough chest 
hair, skin that was weathered in one place and soft
in others. 

Mm. He could kiss her as long as he wanted. But
she wasn't gonna close her eyes. She wanted to
see the sun on his hair, and the smile wrinkles.
She wanted to see him happy, and know she'd
made him so. 

She was eating and drinking and breathing happiness.
In her mind, she knew it wouldn't last forever. Storms
cover the sun and night comes after day. But this 
moment was worth all the sorrows she'd gone through
to get here and all the ones still to come. She was
outside Time, in a place she'd never been before
except in prayer. This was holy. This was blessed.
This was eternity.

He moved his hand along her back, tracing her spine
from the base of her neck to the top of her bikini
bottom, feeling the sleekness of muscles beneath
the skin. She was utterly relaxed, full of trust. And
beautiful. He'd been right about that.

He moved his lips from her. She made a noise of
protest. He kissed her jawline. Protest ceased.
Slowly he made his way down her neck and along
her freckled shoulder. When he came to the strap
for her bikini top, he pushed it aside for just a 
moment to kiss the patch of skin beneath. 

Cait  sighed deeply. The contentedness of it made 
him feel very good. He started to kiss her other
shoulder, but she put her hand to his lips and
shook her head. Then she bent to kiss his shoulder
instead.

She was blushing as she did it, timid in her touch.
But he'd slept with people without being affected this
strongly. And he knew she was a fast learner. God,
he couldn't wait till they were married, and he had
all the time in the world to memorize her hands and
her voice and the way she'd move in the dark....

He shivered. She pulled away, afraid she'd hurt him.
His eyes met hers. Danged if his pupils hadn't gone
big and dark. He wants you, something told her. Right 
now. And you want him.

But there would be time.

"We should go back," she said regretfully. 

"Yeah." Hawke hooded his eyes. They backed
away from each other a little, and their breathing
slowed. "By the way -- thank you."

"For what?"

"It's been a long time since I went swimming."

"I know." An admission.

String's smile grew. "My parents would have liked
you, you know. I just wish you could have met
them." What pain was left in his voice seemed 
bittersweet and easy to bear.

Wondering at the change in him, Cait cupped his cheek 
in her hand. "Someday." 

They hung suspended a moment between water 
and air, with the light around them like a promise.

"But not today." A grin exploded over String's face.
"Want to get into the water fight?"

Cait whispered conspiratorially, "Oh, yeah. We'll 
dunk 'em all!"
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And they lived happily ever after.

But that is another story.