Charon's Crossing

"Hang on to me, Kathryn," Matthew shouted.

Sobbing, she wound her arms around his neck. He raced for the house while the wind screamed and howled and clawed, fought the door open and half-carried, half-dragged Kathryn inside. She clung to him as he kicked the door shut, slid home the bolt and the lock.

"Oh God," she sobbed, "Matthew..."

Gently, he lowered her to her feet, wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.

"Shh," he murmured, "it's all right now."

They stood that way while the rain pelted the roof and the wind shrieked at the siding, taking comfort in the heat of each other's bodies and the beat of each other's hearts. Then Matthew grabbed Kathryn by the shoulders and shoved her to arm's length.

"You damned little fool," he snarled, "what in bloody hell were you trying to do? You almost got yourself killed." He snapped his hands from her shoulders and raked his fingers through his hair. "Lord, woman, don't you ever stop to think?"

"Now, just a minute—"

"You were almost swept off that bloody cliff!"

"Dammit, Matthew, it wasn't as if I—"

"As if you what? Took two minutes to think?" He thrust his face towards hers, his eyes flashing with anger. "Nay, Kathryn, why would you do something so foolish as give a moment's thought to anything?"

Kathryn lifted her chin and glared at him in defiance.

"Listen here, Captain McDowell, I'm grateful for your assistance, but—"

"My assistance?" Matthew threw his hands on his hips, tossed back his head, and laughed. "You mean, you're grateful I was there to save your damned fool neck!"

"You did not save my neck. And I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't punctuate every other word with an obscenity."

"Your thinking processes are the obscenity," he snarled, this time punctuating each word by jabbing his forefinger into her chest. Kathryn staggered back and he stalked after her until her shoulders hit the wall. "What in hell were you doing? Playing some kind of bloody game? That's a hurricane out there, madam, or hadn't you noticed?"

His words sent a chill racing up her spine but it was too late now to give an inch.

"That storm?" Kathryn tossed her head. "Hah! Don't make me laugh. It's a bad storm, but a hurricane? It's nothing of the sort."

"Are you now an expert on weather?"

"I don't have to be an expert to know that hurricane season is over!"

Matthew's lips drew back from his teeth. "Be certain to so inform any crew that's sailed these waters in midwinter."

"Very well." Kathryn's voice was cold. "I'll bow to your expertise in these matters, Captain. But I don't have to take your insults."

"You still haven't answered my question, dammit. What were you doing out there?"

"I haven't answered it because it's stupid! What do you think I was doing? Looking out at the sea."

" 'Looking out at the sea,' " Matthew said in cruel parody. "What's the matter, madam? Didn't you have anything better to do to occupy your time?"

Kathryn glared at him. "I've had enough," she snapped, and pushed past him towards the stairs.

"Kathryn!" His voice roared after her. "Where in hell do you think you're going?"

"It's none of your business."

"Damn you, don't turn your back on me!"

She stopped on the second step and spun towards him in a rage.