Page 33 of Salute, To Bravery
Ian laughed at my joke. “Yeah maybe, although I’m sure they’d spit you back out.”
I smacked his arm, which only led to another laugh from Ian. We took our seats in one of the cars. I watched as a few groups of people took their seats in separate cars, giving us space at the back of the line.
When everyone had settled, an attendant went through and made sure everyone was secure, like some sort of amusement park ride. The lanky teenager looked like she would rather be anywhere else. An older man in the same uniform took the driver’s seat and pulled up the intercom. “Good afternoon, folks, my name is Bill and I’ll be your tour through these amazing caves today…” He continued his spiel, but I had stopped listening.
“Wait, are we driving through a cave?” I turned to Ian, who had his hands folded in his lap like the perfect schoolboy.
He just beamed in response.
“How can you drive through a cave?”
“You’ll see.” His smile just got wider as he turned his attention back to the driver. “Now be quiet, I’m trying to learn.”
I tried to hide my snicker, which turned into a snort.
Ian tried, and failed, not to react to it, but he quickly composed himself.
The ride lurched forward, and without thinking about it, I reached for Ian’s hand. “Whew, startled me.” I had my other hand on my chest.
“Anyone ever tell you that you have the disposition of an old Southern lady?” Ian teased me.
I scrunched up my face before relaxing again. I felt him intertwine his fingers in mine, and I honestly didn’t mind. The butterflies crept up in my stomach, and my breath caught. I’d always found the man attractive and easy to be around. But I never thought I’d have butterflies like a schoolgirl.
My mind briefly wandered, and I couldn’t help but be afraid I wouldn’t feel like this with my soon-to-be husband. Ian squeezed my hand, and I turned to find him staring at me, concern all over his face. I hadn’t realized how soft his eyes could get.
I mentally shook myself and put a smile on my face. He furrowed his eyebrows, asking if I was okay without saying the words. I nodded and nudged his shoulder with mine and pointed to the driver. Ian gently smiled and turned his attention back to the task at hand.
The ride through the caves turned out to be one of the most amazing experiences I’d ever had. The only caves I’d ever been in were small and very shallow. These were real caves with glistening walls, stalagmites and stalag-tights (which I could confidently tell the difference between now). All the time, Ian sat quietly, running his thumb along my knuckles. I could feel his eyes on me for most of the ride, but I didn’t bring it up. I would just smile at him occasionally and go back to staring at my surroundings in wonder.
I sat in the tram, completely entranced by the glistening stones and dark pools of water that we passed. The driver continued to give his spiel, but none of it really registered. I’dseen pictures of huge caves like this in travel magazines, but I’d never imagined I’d see one in real life.
The tram slowed as it squeezed through a narrow passage, the walls so close that I could reach out and touch them.
“Don’t do it,” Ian whispered in my ear, causing me to jump.
“Do what?” I squeaked.
He tried to hold back his chuckle. “Don’t touch the walls.”
“I wasn’t going to!” I felt the blood rush to my cheeks as he shook his head, a huge grin plastered across his face. “But out of curiosity, why can’t I?”
He pursed his lips, trying to stifle a smile. “Because it disrupts the ecosystem. The cave will stop growing.”
“You’re serious?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Yup. A lot of caves have been killed because of people. We try to be careful now that we know what happens when we touch the walls.” His grin faltered for only a second before he gave me a reassuring nudge.
“This seems really important to you.”
“It is. Like I said, I grew up around here. Missouri is a very beautiful state, and I love being here. There’s a ton of hiking trails, caves, plains, tons of water.” His happiness no longer reached his eyes.
“So? Why don’t you come back here anymore?”
“Sometimes family isn’t blood, it’s who ya choose, Dottie.” His slight Southern accent slipped through.
I couldn’t keep the heat from my cheeks. The way he said his nickname for me always made my stomach do a little flip. “Why do you call me that?”
He met my eyes. “Because your name sounds too formal.” He was completely serious.
