Dani’s exertions over the missing necklace made her relapse. For a while she barely had the strength to sit up let alone test Neanderthal’s resolve. He returned to spoon feeding her broth. But this time her recovery was quick.

When she was strong enough she stepped into a pair of jeans and pulled on a cotton jersey, her socks and sneakers, all on top of the wet suit. “Second skin,” he called it. The name fit, because snugged to her body it left little to the imagination, accentuating every swell and curve. She was warm enough wearing the second skin alone, but wearing her familiar clothes made her feel like herself again, instead of disoriented and out of sorts but more importantly her loose fitting clothes masked her curves from his prying eyes.

While Neanderthal had not acted inappropriately toward her Dani had caught him several times taking in the view with that look on his face that said. I want you. She was fully prepared to put him in his place but so far he had controlled himself sometimes just by looking away and other times giving her an angry look before he walked away as if his sexual responses were her fault. Dani was pretty sure she was safe with Neanderthal on the sexual front. If he had wanted to have his way with her there had already been plenty of opportunities and he had refused every one, but all the same she thought it wise to stay on the safe side and cover up her curves.

The storm screeched like a lunatic witch. It had been screeching for days and Dani was tired of it. Neanderthal had gone rock hunting down below again and Dani was alone. The cave was at the top end of a lava tube he explained as he prepared his gear – he always carried a coil of rope, a packet of tools wrapped in a leather pouch, his over the shoulder bag, a head lamp and a pair crampons. Sometimes he carried the torch, but on this occasion he did not. He always dressed in leather: a jerkin over a linen tunic and trousers tucked into his leather boots that laced up to his knees. All his clothes were well worn but clean and in good repair.

Though his description of the cave and its many side tunnels and its great depths and geological history was the longest speech he had given so far, Dani fell asleep before he finished. She had no idea when she woke how long he had been gone; a few minutes or hours? Enough time had passed that the low fire had died down to a pile of flaming chunks.

Neanderthal’s belongings were neatly arranged at the top end of the living space, where the ceiling was tallest, beside the torch and the spear with the hand hewn obsidian tip that looked big as her hand. The shadows were deep but the low fire burned hot and shed enough light that if she wanted she could go through his belongings and see if he had the sapphire.

She had no reason to suspect he had stolen it. His silence on the subject of the necklace was not an admission of guilt, nor was it proof he was hiding something from her. Why would he steal it but for its intrinsic value? Maybe he had told himself he had a right to it as payment for his care of her and the provisions she used up. The thought that he might have helped himself to the only thing of real value that she owned while irksome was at least better than the prospect that the sapphire was lost forever.

She felt no conviction that the sapphire was lost though. Again and again her attention returned to the smaller of his two packs. All it would take was one small peek; one and she could put her suspicions to rest.

She caught herself halfway around the fire and stopped.

Would he have hidden the Medallion in the large pack? That pack was tall and deep and Dani was not eager to search it. A search of that pack would involve moving things out of the way and putting them back exactly the way she found them. Neanderthal might return any moment; how would he react to finding her snooping through his belongings? Not well. Dani would not take well to an invasion of her personal property.

But all that was moot. She was certain the sapphire was not in the large pack; it was in the smaller of the two. How could she be so certain? It was crazy. Suspecting Neanderthal was the first logical answer to the question of the missing sapphire – he had opportunity and any number of motives and his persistent evasive tactics on the topic were highly suspect. However, her certainty had nothing to do with logic. It had nothing to do with intuition. It had to do with a strong –dared she say it – compulsion to search the small pack.

She knelt before the haversack and pulled it out away from the wall. She would not do it, she told herself, except that the necklace was her only means of getting back home. She felt no sentimental attachment to the stone. In fact after her first contact with it she felt an equally strong aversion to it but it was imperative that she have it.

The haversack was made of heavy black canvas and had clearly seen many years of use. She fumbled with the fasteners. They were unlike any she had seen before. It took several precious moments to understand the mechanism, while she looked over her shoulder occasionally and listened for sounds of his return. All she needed was one quick look. With her thumb she nicked a tiny tab on the inside curve of the first buckle and it opened with an audible hiss. With a tiny scraping sound the mechanism gave way. The front of the pack sagged a little when the support of the second latch was overcome.

They were not friends, Dani reasoned. They had not even bothered to exchange names, but Dani knew that was a flimsy argument, rationalization at its best. She felt the righteous indignation of the combined Allen-McHugh clan bearing down on her shoulders. Not that her Aunts and Uncles and Grandparents were a sanctimonious lot – except maybe Grandma McHugh – but good manners was the height of virtue to them. She was Neanderthal’s guest, whether she knew his name or not, friends or not. He was gruff and surly and downright irritating, but he had taken care of her when she was helpless but, most importantly, he had behaved himself though he was clearly attracted to her. Would she betray his generosity and his self-control by invading his privacy and worse, by doubting his good character? She sat back on her heels and let her hands fall by her side.

“Did you find what you are looking for?”

Dani shrieked and fell to one side, scrabbling crablike to her left until she butted up against the cool rock wall and had nowhere else to go. Caveman stood no more than a few feet away in full rock hunting mode. The lamp on his forehead glared with sharp blue-white light. He removed his bag of rocks and set it down beside the pool. He repeated the same with the rope coil.

Dani was mortified.

“I didn’t see anything.” She winced, realizing how like an admission of guilt that sounded. She held up in her hands palms out, an act of surrender. “I never even looked. I swear. I was going to but I changed my mind.”

Her best instincts told her to shut up so she did. His quelling look only further convinced her that keeping silent was wise.

He walked to his pack and went through it carefully.

“What were you after?”

“I should think that would be obvious.” She said in her own defense. Her cheeks were hot with humiliation. “I’ve asked you repeatedly about my necklace and you have not once answered me directly one way or another.”

Typically he answered her challenge with silence. Hunkered in the flickering shadows, his search finished, he retrieved his rock hunting tools replaced them in the sack and then refastened the straps and turned back to her. His eyes glinted dangerously. His mouth was grim. He came to his feet and was on her in one fast fluid motion. From out of nowhere – or so it seemed to Dani – a thin leather rope appeared in his hand, already fashioned in a loop. He pulled her to her feet and had the loop around her wrist and her hands behind her back before she could get her bearings. He cinched the loop cruelly tight. By the time she realized what he meant to do he had her trussed and off balance and pushed up against the wall. The back of her head rapped sharply against the black stone. Tiny sparks flew across her field of vision. For a moment she thought she would black out, but the vertigo passed and her vision cleared. Her stomach, barely recovered from her long illness, roiled dangerously.

He released her and without his support Dani fell forward, landing hard on her knees with sharp pain and the sound of her gorge rising yet again. After completely emptying her stomach she swayed back on her heels feeling lightheaded, aware that a ropey strand of bile hung off her chin. She wiped it off on her shoulder.

Next thing she knew he had upended her back pack and all its contents fell on the floor in a heap.

“Hey!”

He ignored her and searched the outer pockets.

“Hey.” She said again. “You have no right.”

He gave her another quelling look.

He went through her belongings with meticulous care using the headlamp to illuminate each object. Her clothes were on the bottom of the pile with the items from Mama’s Old Navy shoebox on top. Caveman only gave them a curious once over before he went to work emptying the outer pockets and examined the contents of each one … all functional, survivalist camping items. He opened a bottle of water, smelled it, dipped his finger in and tasted it, then recapped it and dropped it to one side. He stuck his finger in the anti-bacterial gel, smelled it and rubbed it between his finger and thumb. He opened her compact first aid kit and perused its contents with critical interest.

Finally his attention was drawn back to the items that Dani had so carelessly dumped into the bottom of her Redwing Kelty. She had not felt the least bit curious about them, once she had located the “key,” and had thus far not given them a second thought. She supposed at some point she would have gotten around to looking through the remaining items to see what Mama left for her, but for the most part she did not care. At home the key had been the only thing that mattered, finding it, proving that it existed and using it to get Mama back. Her stomach twisted at the thought of the lost sapphire. That was what all this was about. If he would just give her a straight answer about the sapphire, snooping into the inner sanctum of his haversack would not have been necessary.

Now, the instant Neanderthal picked up what appeared to be a bundle of letters and began thumbing through them, Dani’s eyes fell on a 5 X 7 glossy photo of Mama, her boyfriend, and Dani, the very same portrait so recently featured in her dreams. At the sight of it memories came back, unwelcome, unwanted and with them an overpowering sense of rage.

“Do you mind?”

This had gone on long enough. Dani rose up from her knees doubled over and ran into Neanderthal full force, slamming into his shoulder, knocking him over. His left hand flew up and the bundled letters – he had removed the wide elastic holding them together because it had apparently captured his interest – flew out of his hand and scattered across the cavern floor.

Dani head butted his shoulder again and again and again. It was all she could do considering her hands were tied behind her back. She did more damage to herself, striking her forehead repeatedly into his hard shoulder. Surely she inflicted more pain on herself, but the sight of her mother’s letters scattering had enraged her even more.

His right arm was folded under her body. He unfolded it and she found herself on her back on the cold floor, her arms painfully squashed between her body and the hard rock shelf. He could have used much greater force. He could have knocked her silly, but instead, he simply unfolded his arm as if he had opened a door when he could have easily broken her in half like a twig.

He pinned her with his arm for a few moments before he rolled over and straddled her. He glared at her with a stern expression.

“I said, ‘No tantrums.’”

“Get off me.” She struggled without effect. Her voice sounded shallow and weak. She could not seem to get enough air into her lungs. “I was protecting my privacy.”

“And I defended mine.”

“I told you…” She broke off, gasped for breath and struggled feebly. “Get off me. I can’t breathe.”

He did not comply with her demand but braced his large hands on either side of her head and leaned in very close. The lamp on his head glared, blinding her. He pushed it off and tossed it aside. His breath touched her mouth. Dani had nowhere else to look but into his expressive eyes. He conveyed much in his eyes, Dani was beginning to comprehend. At the moment he wanted an apology, he demanded it. She could hardly look away and in so doing admit defeat, or worse, convey submission. No matter that her vision was marred by two bright white spots, she stared back. Sure, he had caught her snooping, but she had already caught herself and if he had bothered to listen he would know that already.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” He repeated his original question.

“I didn’t look. I already told you. I was about to but decided it would be wrong and was about to close up your pack when you returned.”

“Sure.” His voice dripped sarcasm.

“Believe me or not. I do not care.”

Without warning his gaze dropped to her mouth where it lingered. Though his eyes were shuttered behind his lids and Dani could not read them, she knew immediately he was putting her on. She had already worked it out that his second skin turned red whenever he was feeling randy. The degree of red change according to the degree of lust, from rust to deep ruby – as was the case the day they met. At the moment his suit was coal black, showing at the collar inside his leather jerkin. She was not clear what emotion coal black conveyed – anger maybe?

“I can’t breathe.” Dani wheezed between her teeth.

Neanderthal ignored her protest and continued to stare at her mouth, but by sheer will Dani refused to let it rattle her.

“You overexerted yourself,” he said at last, speaking to her lips. “You are not yet acclimated.”

“Acclimated to what?”

“The thin atmosphere.”

“Thin?” Alarm slipped into her voice.

“Yes, thin.”

“How thin?”

For answer he shrugged.

Dani hated his careless condescending attitude. “What happens if I don’t adapt?”

“Your heart will likely give out at a very young age or the diminished oxygen to your brain will drive you mad.”

Madness was not an option.

His eyes came back up and met hers.

“Let me up. Untie me.”

She could die here if she did not find Mama quickly and return home or worse, go mad?

A tiny smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. It disappeared quickly. He rose and sat back on his heels, crossed his arms over his chest. His weight settled on her thighs.

“I like you tied up.” He stated.

Neanderthal looked to the side and picked up the hated 5x7 photo and examined it. As with the bundled letters, he appeared more interested in the medium, rather than the subject of the photo. He turned it over, sniffed it, and rubbed the glossy photo between his thumb and finger. Finally he held it up and pointed to her twelve-year-old image seated in front of Mama and her boyfriend. Mama’s arm followed the bend of Dani’s and her hand loosely cupped Dani’s smaller hand. The boyfriend’s left hand was on Dani’s shoulder and his right arm was wrapped around Mama, his hand supporting her elbow.

Dani had to admit, the photographer had captured the essence of them: Mama’s honest love but tentative smile, the boyfriend’s eyes slanted toward Mama evoking the reserved ardency of his feeling, and Dani’s blind innocence. Their love for each other, so innocuous then, seemed glaringly apparent to Dani now. She hated the photo as much as ever. Their love had superseded her. They had been a unit of two, she a mere fragment of a package deal, and their happiness had been hers by default until the night they deserted her. She hated them now. She had been so blissfully happy, so stupidly, blindly happy.

Neanderthal tapped her image. “This is you.”

“What of it?” The sharp anger in her voice startled her and drew a curious frown into his eyes. He wedged his thumb and finger under the collar of his coal black second skin and withdrew a slip of paper folded in half.

Dani recognized it immediately. “Where did you get that?” She remembered distinctly putting it in her hoodie pocket, before putting the necklace around her neck. There was no question where he had got it. He had gone through her pockets. The very idea made her furious.

“You have nerve getting all sanctimonious about me snooping when you did the same thing?” What else might he be hiding from her?

Neanderthal opened the note held it up for Dani to see and quoted it verbatim. “Dani-girl, There will always be a place in my thoughts reserved especially for you. Keep this amulet always close to your heart and I will never be far away.”

He repeated each word without inflection or emotion.

“This is addressed to you.” It was not a question. “Dani-girl.”

“Don’t you call me that no one calls me that.” Her voice was venomous.

“Whoever wrote this note did.”

Dani’s only response was a silent glare.

“You are obviously not Haven born. Everything about you indicates you are from off-world: your dress, these items and your speech. Yet you possess this note written in the language of my people though you have minimal skill in our language. I assume the necklace you keep going on about is the amulet referenced in this note?”

He tapped the small piece of paper with his middle finger, and then folded it one handed and tucked it back under the collar of his second skin.

He held up the photo again. “Clearly this is a younger version of you. The woman is your mother: but for you black hair and blue eyes you look like her. Is this man your father?”

“He is nothing to me.” Again her voice was filled with venom.

“So much anger hardly seems like nothing.”

“That is none of your business.”

“Perhaps.” He appeared thoughtful. “I have to call you something – other than pest, thief, wretch, ingrate.”

His criticism stung. “Danielle.” She had never been fond of her given name in spite of it being French and always insisted she be called Dani. Making Neanderthal call her Danielle would be a consistent reminder of how much she despised him and how like a friend he was not.

He dropped the photo, apparently satisfied.

“Danielle, then” He was off her and before she knew it he pulled her up by a fistful of her shirt, reached around with his knife and sliced through the leather strap, freeing her arms.

She grunted her relief and rubbed her wrists, flexed the stiffness out of her shoulders while the first needle sharp prickles attacked her fingertips as circulation returned to them.

“Listen Neanderthal.” She was a pest, yes, and maybe just a little bit ungrateful. “I am no thief.”

He rose to his full height and pointed to the pool of vomit near the fire. “My name is Theo. Now clean that up.”

Next Chapter: Chapter Seven