Chapter 10

It was after seven when Bryan came pulling into the driveway for the second time that day. The load that he had in the trailer wasn't nearly filled to capacity but was definitely at the weight limit.

Bags of concrete were heavy and to haul them over 100 miles he had to stop and let the tires on the trailer cool down every thirty miles. That had worked out fine because the state police had checkpoints at about that distance on the interstate highways. After the first trip into the city he had worked out a way around the checkpoints. One had moved slightly by the time that he had made his first return trip but he was still able to backtrack somewhat and get around it.

It wasn't that he was trying to avoid the authorities because of any wrongdoing on his part. He was simply avoiding sitting in line for extended periods of time to be unlawfully searched for "contraband," whatever that meant.

The first trip to the city he went unarmed, which turned out to be both good and bad. At more than one point he feared he was going to be attacked by ruffians who were loitering around the storage units. However, after seeing three separate cases where an armed individual was hauled out of their cars, handcuffed and left lying face down on the pavement, he decided that being searched at the roadblocks armed was not for him. He opted to take a side-arm well-hidden on his second run and made exerted efforts to avoid roadblocks. As it was he never had to use it, but having the extra security of being armed would often be enough to neutralize an attack of most any kind and that reassured him.

The thought of being beaten or killed did not appeal to him, and not simply for personal reasons. Silver weighed heaviest on his mind in such scenarios because she would be the one to have to carry the family if something were to happen to him.

Bryan backed the trailer, truck and all into the building where the trailer was normally stored and shut the door. Unloading the cargo and sorting it could come later when there was more time for that and he didn't hurt so badly.

He limped to the house hoping that the flare up of pain would wear off before too long and he would not have to go into town and see the local Chiropractor.

Silver met him at the door. She led him silently by the hand through the dim kitchen, through the silent living room, down the hallway and into the master suite. She pushed him into the bathroom and turned him around to face her.

"You are going to relax," she said softly. "I ran you a bath."

He began to unbutton his shirt but she swatted at his hands. "No," she said. "My job."

She unbuttoned his shirt, then his pants and stripped his aching body to nothing. She guided him into the tub of steaming water which scalded his extremities mercilessly. He settled into the water slowly, grimacing at the heat, yet already savoring the fire against the sore stiffness of his muscles. He leaned back against the tub face, relaxed his arms on the sides of the tub, and sighed deeply.

Silver, who had disappeared around the corner came back in carrying a tray with some food on it. She sat down on the side of the tub and began to slowly feed Bryan with a fork.

Bryan had received such pampering from time to time from Silver, though it was rare and usually for a special occasion. It occurred to him that she must be realizing just how valuable he was in terms of safety and security for the family and was trying to reward him for his vigilance and forethought.

After a few bites of the meatloaf, he leaned forward and took the fork from her. She did not argue or refuse to give it to him, but looked disappointed. He readjusted the tray so that he could eat from it comfortably and looked up at her.

"Thank you," he said. She frowned so he continued. "I thank you, this is wonderful but it is too much."

She continued to frown. He scrutinized the look on her face for a few seconds and then handed the fork back to her. He knew that to do anything different would be a mistake on his part. She continued to feed him, much to his chagrin. He felt uncomfortable being the recipient of such blatant pampering when all he had done was what he saw as the best option for them all.

She changed positions and spoon fed him some ice cream until it was gone, then put the dishes aside. She got down on her knees next to the tub, stretched her elbows out along the edge with her hands together and rested her chin upon her hands. Her face was just slightly below eye level for Bryan and she looked into his eyes adoringly.

"Can I keep you?" she asked sweetly.

"I have every intention of you doing so," Bryan said with a smile. It was an old game between them; a rhetorical question that they both chose to answer. "Unless you choose someone else and go that way, I'm gonna be here."

She smiled, her dimples showing and her nose wrinkling in a manner that could only be described as adorable. She tilted her head and looked at him with those big brown eyes that he loved so much.

"I love you," she said with a smile.

"And I love you," he replied.

Her left hand reached out and her fingertips brushed across his cheek lovingly. He cocked his head to the side, nuzzling her fingertips. She smiled and closed her eyes, biting her lip as he turned and kissed the back of her hand.

She sighed both audibly and visibly, seeming to relax into a semi liquid state of total bliss. He reached out of the water and touched her cheek with his hand, watching as the water droplets fell from her skin one by one.

He leaned forward toward her and kissed her gently. "I love you so much," he said. She smiled and said nothing, but stood to reach for a towel. He stood in the tub, wrapped the towel around himself and stretched his sore shoulders. Silver disappeared with the dishes, presumably to take them back to the kitchen.

Bryan walked across the main living area of the master suite, still wrapped in his towel. He looked at the television, trying to decide if he wanted to turn it on momentarily. Mentally he was beaten to a pulp, his mind having absorbed a day's worth of strange experiences and broadcast government propaganda. Likely that was all that the television contained, and likely that was all that the computer contained, plus a bit of anti-establishment counterpoint.

He settled instead for lighting a fire in the fireplace. The fireplace was small compared to the one in the main area of the house, but it was rarely needed anyway, so a larger one would simply be overkill.

The fireplace had one fire chamber and two fire boxes, one in the main room, and one at a right angle to the first into the bathroom near the tub. Around the firebox, much like there was in the main part of the house was a curved molded earthen bench. It was formed in a sort of semi-circle, its focal point focused upon the fire. On the bench to sit on was one large cushion curved into a half-moon.

He sat down on the edge of the cushion and gathered a few sticks of kindling from a storage area built especially for it. A crumpled wad of paper, a bit of dryer lint, some dried bark and a handful of sticks made into a neat little pile in the stone fire box were soon crackling merrily with the strike of the first match.

Silver returned soon after and closed the door which separated the master suite from the rest of the house. She disappeared into the dressing room, returning wearing a long black nightgown.

By that point Bryan had begun to add larger sticks and the fire had grown into a small blaze. He closed the glass door separating the flames from the rest of the room and adjusted the damper till the fire burned at the intensity that he desired. He turned and found Silver lying sideways on the bench, one hand on her hip as if waiting impatiently, and her temple resting on the other to hold her head up. He swiftly stepped across to the nearby light switch and turned off the overhead lights.

The cushion was a hunter green which went well with the earth-toned bench in general, but when the only light came from the small flickering flames it seemed to light Silvers eyes into fiery greenish orbs. She smiled sweetly when he came and sat down, his towel still wrapped around his body. Pushing with her feet she slid over and tucked her head in his lap, looking up at him expectantly. She closed her eyes as he rubbed his fingers through her hair and then caressed her cheek.

She grasped him around his wrist with both hands and rubbed the open palm of his hand down her torso. With her fingers she twirled a bit of the hair on his arm and pinched, tugging at the hair. The little stab of pain brought his senses to the forefront. He looked down at her closely, noting the strange expression on her face. She again directed his hand, this time pushing it into place so that he was holding his hand in a grip across her throat.