He slid a glance at the woman beside him and caught the look of pride warming her gaze as she watched her siblings. From what he’d seen, she’d done an excellent job as stand-in mother to these two.
They continued past the hallway on the left that led to the outside door, and the murmur of voices grew louder as they approached the wooden double doors propped open. He’d never been this far into the cave before.
When they stepped through the opening, a vast room opened up before them, as large as any ballroom he’d ever seen, larger maybe. The space must be expansive enough to hold every one of the citizens of Laurent. How had they ever hacked it out of stone? But the high domed ceiling felt so natural that maybe this was a cavern that had already been there when the first visitors built these underground homes.
Brielle motioned him forward, and he shifted his focus to what lay inside the space. Rows of tables lined with benches filled most of the area. Torches were mounted around the perimeter and placed on each table. People milled around, some already seated and others in conversation or spreading out food. The atmosphere hummed with energy.
As Brielle led him to a table tucked in the right corner, those they passed turned to watch them. A few stepped back to clear a wide path for him to pass, though there was already plenty of room for him and Brielle to move without brushing anyone.
Yet, for the most part, it didn’t seem to be fear marking people’s expressions. Simply curiosity. As much as being a spectacle made his neck itch, at least they didn’t seem afraid of him.
At the table, Charlotte was already unpacking suppliesfrom the baskets she and her brother had carried, and Audrey stood there also, with the man he’d assumed was her father.
After Brielle took the baskets from his arms and placed them on the table, she motioned to the end of the bench nearest the wall. “We’ll sit there.” They would have their back to the corner, the perfect position to watch the goings-on without missing anything. Also, it would keep him farthest away from the others. Maybe that would make people feel like he was less of a threat.
Audrey lifted a grin to him. “I hope you’re hungry. Today was my usual baking day, so when the feast was announced, I put on extra elk galettes.”
He offered a smile even as his stomach growled. “Even if I wasn’t hungry, I’d be looking forward to them.”
After he settled into his corner seat, Brielle sat beside him. The activity spread around them as people’s curiosity about him seemed to wane. She pointed out individuals and families, helping him put faces to the names he’d heard spoken before.
Philip, the guard who stayed most nights, sat at the next table with his wife, who worked hard to keep a young girl contained. The child must be about three. Philip had his own hands full with the chubby-cheeked lad whose blond curls matched his own. The man caught Evan’s eye and flashed a ready grin. “Evan. Glad you get to join the feast.”
His friendliness soaked through Evan, and he raised a hand in greeting. How long had it been since he’d had a friend? Not a fellow soldier forced to endure the same atrocities of war, but a genuine friend who greeted him out of pleasure? Maybe he and Philip hadn’t quite reached friendship yet, but he could imagine it.
Before Evan could form words to respond, Philip’s daughter tugged his sleeve and pulled him close to speak into his ear.
A moment later, Leonard stopped by their table, a grin turning his face almost boyish. “Glad you were allowed to come.” Then he slid a half-teasing glance at Brielle. “And not just because it means I get to come, too.”
Brielle took the banter with a nod and a softening of her mouth. “Leonard, would you mind staying here with Evan for a moment while I speak with Jeanette?” She looked to Evan. “She’s Marcellus’s mother.” The fact she would take the time to explain sent warmth through him.
Leonard nodded. “Of course.”
Brielle rose and strode down the row of tables to an older woman. Or maybe the graying of her hair made her appear older than she was, because on Brielle’s approach, her face brightened into a smile that made her appear a decade younger than he’d first thought. Brielle’s attention had that same effect on him, but this woman had likely known her all her life. She would know all the flaws and struggles Brielle hadn’t shown him. But the affection between them was impossible to miss.
Leonard spoke a few words to Brielle’s brother and sister, but Evan couldn’t help but watch the exchange a few tables down.
The woman reached for Brielle’s hand and held it while they spoke, and at one point, Brielle covered their joined hands with her other. One didn’t often see such a connection between women of different generations. He’d never had it himself, even with a fellow his own age. He’d had plenty of acquaintances, colleagues, and even people he called friends.But he’d never shared the warmth that shone between these two.
A man sat beside Jeanette, following the conversation. Was he Marcellus’s father, the man whom Brielle had spoken of when she told of the massacre? She’d said he lost the use of both his legs after that fight. How was he able to come to this room for the feast? Had men carried him? As Evan studied the man’s frame, he glimpsed the structure of a chair back behind him. He’d seen a few of these rolling chairs. Maybe they’d built one for him.
Evan shifted his gaze around the room. His focus snagged on a man sitting against one of the long walls, his arms crossed in a sullen posture. Or maybe it was the swelling in his jaw that made Gerald look so brooding.
Either way, Evan didn’t let his attention linger on the man. There was too much else to see.
Wesley, one of the other guards who’d taken turns in his cell, was sitting with what looked like his family. The man nodded in greeting when he caught Evan’s gaze.
He responded in kind, then continued scanning the room. These were real people. He hadn’t set out to invade or investigate them, but somehow he’d ended up in their midst. They were fathers and mothers, daughters and sons, who loved and hurt with the usual trials of life. Their lives might look different than what he’d grown up with or what he’d learned to love in America. But in truth, there wasn’t so much difference.
He could imagine them as friends and neighbors. This community, this haven, could be the place he’d sought for so long. Would they allow an outsider to live among them? If by some miracle he found pitchblende somewhere elseand fulfilled his mission, could he come back to live among them? Would they ever come to accept him, given the way he’d arrived? Would they ever treat him as one of their own?
After years of living here and working alongside them, the fact that he hadn’t grown up among these people might be forgotten. He could see himself one day as one of the gray-haired men leaning over the table to trade stories.
His gaze found Brielle again. His mind formed an image of what she would look like with her own gray hair, the grooves lining her face a testament to happy times, the wisdom gleaned from each year. Perhaps a few of the gray hairs would be brought on by the challenges of raising children to be strong and capable, just like their mother.
A longing rose up inside him with a fierce ache. What would it be like for them to behischildren?
Brielle turned from Jeanette then, and her gaze found his. Stirring something inside him.
