Chapter 21
The truck careened around in a half circle and aimed straight for their vehicle, spitting up the road in fogs of dust and dirt. Panicked, Olivia swerved sharply to the right to avoid collision but they tilted so far that the albino was convinced that the passenger side had lifted from the ground. Their truck did a complete one-eighty and halted facing the direction from which they had come.
"Are you all right?" he questioned, reaching for her.
A dazed look from shock was about her face but she nodded.
"Stay inside," he advised her when he saw the four men from the opposing vehicle approaching.
Amid Olivia's objections, he exited to confront the oncoming danger head-on. Ever since the fatefull day when he murdered his father, he adopted the strong resolve to meet ugliness straight forward and be done with it, even when he was grossly outnumbered.
"You are a loooooong way from home, fantôme," one of the young men said, his voice even and menacing.
"I am where I need to be," he growled in response. "But you are in our way. Move."
"I don't take orders from you, fantôme. None of us do."
"What do you want?"
The albino was on edge, knowing he was in grave peril. The farther he strayed from the truck the deeper the trouble; the men enclosed around him like waiting jackals, leaving him the epicentre of a circle of imminent danger. He was acutely aware that Olivia was departing from the safety of the vehicle, shouting something that he could not understand because he was busy weighing the odds at hand. There were four. He knew he could take out at least half, possibly three, on his own without much problem. But he was outnumbered and they had weapons, he noticed with disdain. He didn't stand much of a chance.
Untill Olivia left the truck he thought that there might be a chance that she could survive unscathed but now how the outcome of this unfortunate encounter was going to play out was unpredictable. He was terrified for her safety and demanded her to get back in the truck but it was too late. One of the men had seized her by the wrist.
"Let me go!" she ordered, trying to wrench free.
"Leave her alone!" the albino reinforced, then attempted to go to her rescue.
That was when one of the men, he didn't know which, attacked with a swift and debilitating blow to the back of the head that brought the albino to his hands and knees. Everything around him was muddled, both in sight and hearing. Olivia's cries in the background gave the impression that they more far off than close by and it sounded as if she was speaking French while submerged under water. He struggled to regain his footing but was struck down again.
He did the first thing that came to immediate mind: wrap his fingers as tightly around the nearest ankle that he found and yanked. The body attached nearly toppled over on him but he managed to move out of the way in time. Once the man hit the ground, the albino was on top of him, plummeting him with closed fists untill a second attacker struck him from behind. Rather than falling off of his victim, the albino took the blow and twisted his upper body so that he was able to send a fist into the gut of the second attacker. From somewhere in the vicinity, Olivia shrieked but no matter how hard she inspired the albino to fight, he was simply overpowered.
Then he heard a sound he hadn't expected to hear: a short crack of thunder that didn't come from the sky but nearer to the ground and behind him. Gunshot.
"Back away," a voice commanded in strangely accented French.
The gang recoiled even before they were told. The gunshot had been enough to spring them backwards from their prey. Blood smeared across the back of the albino's hand but he wasn't positive whose it was. His chest painfully sucked in oxygen and he wondered if his ribs were broken. His dulled senses, which during the violence had retreated to allow pure survival instinct to take control like it used to when living on the streets, were starting to sharpen and return to him as he found someone else trying to help him stand. At first he resisted, twisting his arms free from the Good Samaritan's hold only to find the person stubborn enough to take hold again and haul him to his feet.
Then he assessed the situation around him. None other than Ferrao was his saviour and assistant, a gun clenched tightly and aimed at the group congregating together away from them held in his other hand. Silvio was with Olivia, checking her for injuries that she verified she did not have.
"Get in your vehicle and leave," Ferrao enjoined, neither voice nor hand faltering.
"You'd be wise to pack up and leave town, my friend," the boldest of the gang threatened without subtlety. "This isn't your fight. Don't involve yourself or you'll regret it."
"Yet I'm the one with the gun, friend." Ferrao spat the last word out as if it was venom on his tongue. "I live here and these are my friends so I am involved. I will tell you this only once more. Get in your vehicle and leave."
Indecision rippled through the ranks of the offenders as they glanced at each other then at their leader. But Ferrao's aim was unrelenting and after a protracted hesitation and sizing up, the leader finally nodded.
"We'll go," he agreed. "For now. But count yourself an enemy. Watch your back."
Even as they regrouped and fled, Ferrao never dropped the gun untill the truck was well on its way back up the road.
"We heard the shouts," Ferrao explained, placing the weapon into the waist of his jeans. "I had a bad feeling it was trouble for you."
To everyone's shock, maybe even to her own, Olivia rushed to Ferrao and threw her arms around his neck.
"Thank god you came!"
The albino was as stunned as he was insulted but the expression on Ferrao's handsome face attested that he was equally confused. The young man gawked at the albino with explicit apology as he slowly, cautiously put an arm around the young woman.
"Everything will be fine," Ferrao soothed. Then to the albino, "How about you? Are you OK?"
The albino nodded, ignoring the terrific pain when he tried to breathe. Olivia separated from Ferrao and made to repeat her action with her lover but halted upon finding him injured.
"Where did you get the gun, Ferrao?" she opted to question instead.
"I've always had it," he answered. "The world is too dangerous to travel without protection. I'm not as big as our friend here so I need improvising."
"I can't even complain about it because it's saved us." She reached out and placed a hand on the albino's bicep. "You have a cut on your forehead," she informed him. "Let's go home and get it mended."
Olivia and her lover re-entered the cab of the truck while the two Portuguese men climbed into its bed. The short drive was ridden in a silence that was not comfortable in the least. Her lover was angry, Olivia could tell by his closed body language: how he kept as far away from her as the confines of the cab allowed, how his hands remained in his lap, how the muscles in his jaw were clamped with tension, how he refused to look in her direction but kept his eye line straight ahead out of the windscreen. He was like a jungle cat poised to pounce and Olivia knew that their rescuer in the back was the prey. At this moment, not even she dared to touch him.
Let his anger cool. Then I'll have a chat with him.
When the truck stopped in the drive and everyone disembarked, the albino said nothing but stalked into the house.
"He's a sensitive one," Olivia told Ferrao. "I shouldn't have been so rash in hugging you. I was just relieved that we had back-up for once."
"I'll talk to him."
"I think you'd better wait. At least until I talk to him first. I know him well; I know his temper and you do not want to deal with it. Believe me."
Out of better judgement, Ferrao had no choice but to comply.
"Then Silvio and I will go back to work in the vineyard," he said.
She nodded and watched as Ferrao placed a hand on Silvio's shoulder and the two walked off, back to work. She sighed deeply, turned on her heels and went into the house to face her own troubles.
She knew him well enough to know that he would be in one of two places: the bedroom or the bathroom. Given that he was bleeding, she chose the bathroom first and wasn't disappointed. The door was closed and when she tried it she found it locked. Gently knocking, she softly called to him, requesting that he open for her, which he did.
"I'll clean your cut," she offered.
"I can clean it myself," he told her, his voice more weary than angry.
"I know you can. But I want to. Sit."
He sat on the toilet where she gestured while she procured the wet cloth he was using and pressed it against the wound.
"It's only a minor cut," she notified. "You won't need stitches, at least."
"He has a gun."
His bluntness did not take her by surprise.
"A gun that saved our necks. Don't tell me you want to quarrel against a young man keeping a gun handy for protection while backpacking through Europe. You know first hand how vicious the world can be. Even to young men." She paused before adding, "I'm sorry for what I did. I didn't intend to snub you. I wasn't thinking."
He winced but probably more from the sting of his injury than her words and he shook his head, dismissing it with a wave.
"You could not help it, you were relieved and he was responsible for it. My only regret was that I could not protect you myself."
"I know how tetchy you are on this subject but I feel like I must ask. Do you think you're less of a man because you couldn't fight them alone? Mon ange, there were four of them. They all had weapons. I know you can take care of yourself or you wouldn't be here today. With all the horrible things you've suffered you're a living miracle to still be alive, a testament to masculinity. And to the God who gave you the strength and ability to survive. Ferrao poses no threat to us but thank God he was here to save us."
"I do not like to be dependent on others."
"You're dependent on me."
"That is different."
"How?"
"We depend on each other. It is mutual between us. But now I am indebted to Ferrao. I do not like to owe anyone anything."
"Ah! Pride is your sin, then. You should temper it, mon ange. I doubt Ferrao will expect to collect a debt from you that he doesn't believe you owe. We accepted him and Silvio on the vineyard, gave them work, pay them wages, provide them with food and shelter. Maybe he felt he owed us a debt."
"He has involved himself and Silvio into our troubles."
"Yes, and now they are at stake as much as we are. But they chose to be. We had no control over their decision."
She removed the wet cloth from his forehead and rubbed some ointment on the cut before covering it with a bandage. A sweet kiss was added over the bandage as a finishing touch.
"Are you now convinced that Ferrao and Silvio are good men?"
Even then he hesitated to answer. Instead, he simply retorted, "That one is too pretty for his own good."
Olivia couldn't help but to laugh.
"Which one?"
"Ferrao."
"In my eyes no one is more beautifull than you, mon ange. I love you too much. I would gladly die for you if I had to."
He peered at her, softness rather than rage filling his eyes, and she rewarded him with a gentle press of her lips to his, her hand brushing back the long white hair that slipped down around his eyes.
"You can be spared in the vineyard today," she said. "Are you still having trouble breathing?"
He shook his head, lying.
"One of them kicked me. I thought my ribs were broken but I am fine now."
"Just got the wind knocked out of you?"
He nodded.
"Nevertheless, you will need rest. I'm quite certain you're still in pain and will bruise. I'll put you to bed and then go off to help Ferrao and Silvio."
"I will be fine. I can help."
"You couldn't stand outside yourself and see the beating you took. It was awfully brutal, my love. I'd feel better if you stayed in to rest."
"I would feel better if I was working in the vineyard."
"So you can watch over me and protect me from the man who would steal me away from you?" When he didn't reply, she said, "I know you very well. Very well, mon ange. You have nothing to worry about. And you know it. You're just too stubborn to admit it. Stay in."
After several minutes of trying to negotiate, the albino surrendered and consented that he would stay in but only for one day. Grudgingly, he allowed her to pull a blanket over him after he stretched out across their shared bed. She kissed him lightly on the lips then vacated the room, shutting the door to leave him alone in the darkness of the room.
Olivia found Ferrao and Silvio picking grapes in the rows where they'd last left off; when they saw her approach, they stopped their labours.
"Is he all right?" Ferrao inquired.
"He'll live," she announced. "No real damage was done. Just a cut on his forehead and a few bruises here and there."
Ferrao exhaled the breath of anticipation that he'd been holding.
"Thank god."
"He's tough or he wouldn't have lasted this long."
Ferrao nodded agreement. "He's magnificent."
"He is."
They exchanged guarded smiles and a charge of electricity passed between them.
"All right, then," she said to break the spell. "Let's get back to work, shall we?"
Ferrao nodded and the three of them spent the next several hours at their work, finishing four entire rows of trellises. Intermittently, one of them took a quick fifteen break to regain their strength and so as to not become overexerted but they were hard at work whenever not on break. Olivia knew that the renewed strenuous effort to work was palliative to the tension caused by the incident earlier. Work off the stress, she resigned. Let's take something negative and transform it into something positive!
The heat started its eventual tapering off when the sun began its dip below the horizon. With the cooling of the day a streak of mischief pumped through Olivia's veins. Side eyeing the busy men, she pretended to need a drink of water, walked towards the jug and glimpsed over her shoulder to check where their attentions were. Like she'd hoped, they were engrossed with their work. Selecting Ferrao as her victim, she lifted the jug, now a quarter full, and, when the young man's back was turned, poured the remaining water over his head.
Dropping the jug to the plush grass, she watched as the drenched and shocked Ferrao wiped the water from his eyes and pushed back his wet hair. In spite of himself, Silvio burst into a fit of laughter and said something to his friend in Portuguese. Ferrao replied back but Olivia, not speaking the language, was at a disadvantage and had no clue what they were saying to each other. Conspiring, or teasing, perhaps both, no doubt. Equally without warning, Ferrao lunged at her but, shrieking, she reflexively jumped back and he missed.
"Get her, Silvio!" laughed Ferrao when Olivia proved a challenge to capture in his pursuit.
Silvio hesitated but did not pass the opportunity to obey Ferrao when Olivia neared him.
"Livie's been naughty!" Ferrao teased as he confronted the mistress of the vineyard with the loveliest smile Olivia had ever seen on a man's face.
Doubled over with laughter, Olivia was virtually at the mercy of Ferrao's whims when he encircled her waist and drew her firmly against him. What he was going to do to exact vengeance no one but Ferrao could say because he was cut short when Silvio, in a worried panic, stepped around behind Ferrao as if he was escaping a killer.
And perhaps he was. Olivia and Ferrao stopped playing long enough to glance up at the albino, now standing in the centre of the rows of trellises and glaring murderously at them. Though his stare was of fire, it was filled with ice.
"Mon ange!" exclaimed Olivia as Ferrao released her and stepped away like an errant child caught by his father. "We were about to end the day and come inside."
They all anxiously waited for the albino to react, Olivia standing between her lover and her employees to make it clear that she forbid any harm to the young men, Ferrao very nearby and at the ready.
"I have cooked supper for us," he said, inside his voice a deep underlying threat.
Nothing else came from him. He simply turned and walked back the way he came. The mood rapidly sobered up with reprieve and Olivia straightened the end of her blouse, left unkempt by Ferrao's friskiness.
"He's such a fragile thing for all of his strength and beauty," remarked Ferrao, watching the albino quicken away.
"I couldn't have said it better myself," agreed Olivia. "We'd better go and fix what we broke."
Silvio timorously gazed on and Ferrao placed a calming hand on his shoulder, asking if he was all right. When the other man nodded, Ferrao cupped his face into his hand and stroked his cheekbone with an affection that warmed Olivia's heart. The gesture was as tender as an elder brother offering comfort to the younger sibling and she longed for a sibling of her own.
"You two must be very close," she observed as they began walking in the furious albino's wake.
Ferrao affirmed, "We have been through hell and back, which has bonded us together tighter than life bonds most."
"Because of the trials of your trip?"
"Not entirely, but it has bonded us closer still. It's our way of celebrating life and saying good-bye to the pains of the past. We're searching for a better future."
"University will change your life for the better, as I suspect your backpacking journey will. If we didn't have trials, we would never appreciate what's good in life."
"And we would never meet the people who come to mean the most to us."
Olivia gave a short bark of a laugh, appreciating her friend's pithy insight.
"You win again!" Then she gestured ahead, a motion meant to signal that she was referring to the albino. "You can't imagine what he's been through."
"Has he ever told you?"
Olivia shook her head in sadness.
"As close as we are, he hasn't told me much. He doesn't need to. My imagination is fertile enough. I see what he goes through now. What he's experienced prior to coming here must be inestimable."
"Olivia. I didn't mean to upset him. I was only playing around."
"I know. And I think he knows too. At least I hope he does. I think he's been habitually expectant of betrayal. Because that's what he's accustomed to so that's the conclusion he tends to draw. Experience is a harsh teacher."
"And time is a patient one."
Olivia and Ferrao shared a smile; her appreciation for his insight was immense. Clearly he was wise beyond his young years, which spoke volumes of the untold unkind lessons life had taught him. She wondered about the motley group of misfits that the sanctuary of her vineyard was attracting of late.
Supper had been waiting for them on the table when they arrived at the kitchen but the albino was noticeably absent. Olivia urged the two men with her to take their seats and begin their meal before it got cold and was off in search of her lover again before they had the opportunity to protest.
She found him sitting on the bed in the spare room where he used to sleep, where Ferrao and Silvio had slept the night before. It was dark in the room, the curtains drawn and the lights off. The dark was no match for the luminescent starkness of his marble coloured skin and she spied him without trouble. Saying nothing, she sat beside him and waited for him to speak, not doing so much as touch him. Time was needed for him to gather his thoughts and she granted it to him.
"I am so very sorry," he at last spoke. "I am trying."
"I know."
"I cannot help but to think the worst."
"I know, mon ange."
"He is so beautifull."
"After you left, he said you were beautifull."
"So he is also blind."
Olivia couldn't suppress a chuckle and she enclosed one of his hands with both of hers.
"I am making my greatest effort to be patient and understanding," he told her. "For you, because you said they were good men. I trust your judgement and I trust that you will always do what is right. But…I have no understanding regarding what is normal behaviour and I cannot erase a troubled lifetime in a single day."
Raising his chalky hand to her lush lips, she kissed his hairy knuckles then held his hand against her cheek.
"All we ask is that you try," she said softly. After a pause, she suggested, "Let's go downstairs and eat before the food gets cold."
He tried to nod his insecurities away, which she respected, and together they went down to supper.
After their meal was consumed, Ferrao again offered his and Silvio's services to clean up and clear away the dishes and leftovers. Again Olivia allowed them their supportive indulgence in favour of sitting in the lounge with her lover to read, interrupted only by Ferrao clearing his throat a half hour later.
"Livie?"
Olivia smiled gently to herself; she liked it when he called her that and wished the albino had a pet name for her.
"Silvio and I don't want to seem ungracious but we would prefer to sleep in the barn tonight."
The news alarmed Olivia. Hadn't she consoled their fears of her lover? Were they still afraid? What did this mean?
"What?" she responded. "Why? Don't you feel comfortable in the house?"
"We're gratefull, like I said. But we still feel like intruders…"
"No, no, please don't feel that way. Ange, please tell them you didn't mean—"
Ferrao raised his hands in a motion for her to stop speaking.
"It isn't because of what happened earlier. Silvio and I would like our privacy…"
"You have your own room."
"Yes, but we originally requested to stay in the barn. We're so used to being outside. We'd like to rough it a little, to earn our salt and appreciate luxuries when we're able to have them."
"But luxuries are available…"
"They are used to being outside, Olivia," the albino rescued the men. "Please. Take it from me, it is difficult to accept charity, no matter how well intended it is, when you have endured hardship. Let them do as they please with our blessing."
Still Olivia was displeased and unwilling.
"It's just that after what happened today I would feel much more at ease if everyone was together inside the house."
"We'll be fine," Ferrao was resolute. "I'm the one with the gun, remember?"
"Yes, but…"
"We'll be fine, Livie. I promise."
Olivia toiled between granting the men their wish and doing her English duties as a hostess.
Finally: "Oh, all right. I suppose you'll be safe enough. But I want you to take some things out with you."
"What things?"
Twenty minutes later, the four of them trudged out to the barn, each one carrying amenities that Olivia saw Ferrao and SIlvio fit to have. She led the way with an old fashioned kerosene lantern and matches, the albino with an arm full of blankets and pillows, Ferrao with the rucksacks and gear that he and Silvio came with, and last but not least Silvio took up the rear carrying a horde of books from the shelves in the lounge. Silvio and the albino watched, uneasy and amused respectively, as Ferrao and Olivia set to work creating a cosy liveable compartment out of the empty stall next to Goliath's.
When Olivia made the suggestion, "We can make one bed here and the other across on the other side of the stall", Ferrao quickly disagreed, "No, we'd like to be close. We're used to sleeping close together for warmth and safety" and Olivia could not refute his logic.
The stall was vacant of straw so they laid several quilts down on the floor as a makeshift mattress to soften the hardness of the bare wood. A surplus of pillows were placed around for insulation as well as comfort and an empty crate was turned on its side to serve the twofold function of a bookshelf inside which the books were lined up neatly with their spines facing where the men would lay so that they could read the titles and the night stand for the lantern which was placed on top.
"Are you sure you want to be out here alone?" Olivia made one final bid to persuade them otherwise. "Goliath can get pretty stinky."
Ferrao insisted with a casual laugh, "We aren't alone; we have each other. We'll be fine, I promise."
Then he reminded her by taking the gun from the waist of his jeans and placed it next to the lantern.
Olivia sighed in vexation and had no choice but to say, "All right, I suppose. I still don't like it. I'll worry about you two."
"I'm sure you'll have a pleasant distraction from us tonight, Livie."
Ferrao's eyes lingered on the albino and he issued a mischievous smile that the albino shied away from. But the awkwardness transformed into anger when he noticed that Olivia was also receiving the same look. He shifted his hand on Olivia's arm to move her and break the mysterious bewitchment.
"Give them the privacy they want," he told her. "We have work to do in the house ourselves."
"Yes, but…."
But the albino was pulling her out of the stall in the direction of the barn door.
"Good night, Livie," Ferrao called out and when he did Olivia glimpsed back over her shoulder at him, gave him a wave and returned his good night wish before being dragged entirely out of the barn. The albino shut the door, leaving it unlocked in case the men needed to get out for any reason, then took the still fretting Olivia by the hand and guided her back to the house.
"I do not like leaving them out there after all that's happened," she griped as the albino secured the house for the night. "I'd like them to be in the house with us, keep us all together in case something awfull happens."
"Olivia. Stop. They will be fine."
"You don't know that."
"I do know that. They have survived this long."
"But they're in the centre of all of our troubles…"
"Which they did willingly and with eyes wide open to the situation."
"But…"
There were no more buts or any other sorts of protests from Olivia when the albino crushed her body against his and kissed her hard on the mouth. All the resistance melted from her as he pulled her backwards into the lounge.
"What?" she asked with amusement. "Don't you want to go upstairs to bed?"
"You would not make it," he warned then pressed her hand to his swollen groin.
"Is that a fact?" she taunted with a smile as wicked as Ferrao's.
He didn't say anything but instead showed her. Bringing her down to the floor in front of the fireplace with him, his hands were already in her blouse and freeing her breasts. Not one to argue when the albino was randy and wanted love, she found his weight bearing down on her. Their coupling was fast and furious; the carpet chaffed the delicate skin of her back raw but the way he made her feel otherwise was sweeter than the taste of chocolate on her tongue. After he finished, he left her to catch her breath as he retrieved an accumulation of pillows and blankets upstairs for them.
"Did you bring down the rest of the linen closet for us?" she joked.
"Something like that."
Together they built a love nest that was memorable of the quarters where an Arabian prince kept his concubines. Once she was stretched out on her stomach amid the numerous pillows and blankets, he saw the angry red marks the carpet had left on her bare skin and set to work healing them with his kisses and whispered apologies that she insisted he not worry about.
Yet her lover was as gallant as he was lovely and for his repeat performance he was the one with his back against the floor and guided her to the appropriate position, his cock sliding deep and effortlessly into her wet sheath as soon as she mounted him. Bringing her down into his arms, he thrust up into her, doing all the work as they drank each other in with fervent kisses that served to make the sex hotter. When he came, he held her so tightly against him that his arms robbed her chest of its breath. Finished, his embraced slackened around her but still stole her breath with hungry kisses. Unable to take any more, she pulled away and settled beside him, in his arms.
"I needed that," she remarked, the declaration a breathless sigh.
"I know you did. So did I." He simply stroked her arm for a while and she enjoyed his touch, her eyes shut in contentment. Then he broke the silence with a complaint that ruined the mood. "I do not like Ferrao."
"Oh, no, mon ange, you cannot bring this up again. Not now."
"If not now then when?"
"I'd prefer never."
"Did you not see how he looked at you in the barn?"
"No, which should tell you how little it matters how he looked at me."
"It made me very uncomfortable."
"You're reading too much into everything he does. After our chat earlier I was hoping you were starting to overcome your insecurities, at the very least to trust me as you said you were, but I see that won't come to fruition any time soon."
"Olivia, I see how he is around you. He always touches you and looks at you like he is a slavering wolf. He wants you."
Olivia couldn't suppress a laugh.
"He isn't a slavering wolf!" she rebuked. "That's just how he is: sweet and friendly. Maybe overly affectionate but he doesn't mean anything by any of those displays of affection."
"You cannot be serious, Olivia."
"I am. He's more like a little brother, if you ask me."
"He is clingy."
"True, but aren't all little brothers?"
"I do not know. I was an only child."
"Well, I'm sure that's what it's like. I was an only child too but I picture a pesky younger brother acting in such a way as Ferrao behaves. I say give him some slack. He's just naturally affectionate."
"I do not have to like him."
"No, but you must get along with him." She sighed, looked toward the back of the house and added, "I do hope they're warm enough out there."
"The night is warm, Olivia. They are fine."
She noticed that his speech was heavy and his muscles slackened gradually, indicators of pending sleep. Because of that, she decided it was best to not press any further conversation and allow him to drift off. She herself was too comfortable to move and made no plans to do so.
Yet she couldn't help but to continue worrying about the two men asleep in the barn. After Ferrao dared to step between the feuding parties, she knew they put themselves in grave danger. Despite being gratefull for his help, she also knew that her young friend had no idea what he truly got involved with. Laroux always made good on his threats and it was clear that her former friend was behind the attack earlier in the day.
Her muscles loosened, just as the albino's had, and her thoughts began to dim with sleep. She wondered if Ferrao and Silvio were already in dreamland or if they were still awake, perhaps because of discomfort or the mystery of new surroundings; maybe Goliath was restless and keeping them awake or perhaps there was a night chill preventing them from their rest. Or, unthinkable, they were kept wide awake in vigilant worry. Yes, she planned on requesting that they return to the guest room at night every night before retiring.
And that was her last thought before she succumbed to the sandman herself.
In fact, Ferrao was as awake as Olivia had suspected, lying on his back staring at the ceiling. Beside him Silvio was sound asleep, curled in the foetal position with his back against Ferrao's side. Both men had removed their clothing and slept in their skivvies to help regulate their body temperatures beneath the wealth of blankets Olivia made certain they had been supplied with. A surprisingly chilly draught wafted into the stall from somewhere that was enough to cause Silvio to react with a sigh and a stir that caught Ferrao's attention.
Should he leave their makeshift bed to suss out the source of the leak he would bare more of Silvio's flesh and surely wake him. He assumed that it was coming from the far wall of their improvised apartment. For long moments he stared at the dodgy spot, his mind blank. Then sighing, he switched his focal point back to the ceiling above, pretending it was the nocturnal heavens. Just to make sure the inconvenient chill was fended off, he drew the ocean of fleece up around their shoulders. Doing so stopped Silvio's quaking, which was all Ferrao wanted.
The horse in the next stall shuffled, tramping a hoof on the floor softly. Ferrao was surprised that the beast wasn't making a bigger fuss with the scent of strangers next door. His head began to ache from lack of sleep so he shut his eyes and tried to relax. At the moment, he could want for nothing. His belly was full, he had a good shelter with warm blankets and Silvio next to him and in the morning he would earn an honest living working for decent people. All was well and content.
Or it should have been. What was that sound outside the window? Was it someone peeking in, spying with evil intent? His gun hand twitched, wanting the weapon in its grasp. He would be lying if he said he wasn't afraid; Olivia had told him plenty regarding the danger he'd put himself in and after the incident out on the road he believed her.
Thankfully, try as he might to peer out into the darkness from where he was lying, he found nothing where he expected to see a menacing face. He huddled protectively closer to Silvio who, in his sleep, sensed the other man and instinctively fidgeted backward against him. Ferrao smiled at the movement with tenderness and to keep the hand wanting the gun occupied, he toyed with the platinum wedding band he wore around his ring finger only at night beneath the blankets and smiled at the thought of it. Often on this journey away from Portugal, it was the ring that supplied him with hope and comfort. Tonight was no different.
If there was danger, he would defend Silvio to the death. They had been through too much and had gone too far to let a group of degenerates do them harm in any form. Ferrao was exceptionally loyal to those he loved and at the moment that included Livie and her farouche and unusual lover. In Ferrao's opinion they had extended to him and Silvio not a hand of charity but a helping hand and they were indebted to the pair. Though he'd only known them for a brief day or two, he bestowed upon them the loyalty of a lifetime friendship.
Silvio interrupted his thoughts by rolling over and nestling against him, perhaps drawn by his body heat. In response, he reached over to more securely tuck Silvio's share of their blankets around and underneath his companion. Fears finally allayed, he again shut his eyes and tried to sleep. And this time he did.