Hunter, Chris, Matt, Jeff, Mark and Glenn came into the tent. Hunter and Matt had Vince McMahon between them. There was a large blood stain on Vince's torn and ripped shirt that covered the area around his right pectoral muscle.
Glenn carried a struggling John Bradshaw Layfield by the shoulders while Mark held him by the ankles. Layfield's shirt was also stained with blood, from deep cuts to his wrists that spilled the crimson liquid like water. The blood had splattered over the men who carried him as Layfield thrashed in their grasp.
Shawn stood with Bret's help and moved so Layfield could be placed on the cot. Shawn held a clean bandage over the cut on the palm of his left hand. It still bled, but not as much as before.
Wade scooped Adam up in his arms to free the other bed for McMahon, and sat in a chair in the corner. Adam was so deeply asleep, he was like a rag doll in Wade's arms. Randy had told him Adam would sleep for as long as eight to ten hours. Wade had already decided there would be no school tomorrow.
Randy was harried as he quickly went from Layfield to McMahon. "I can't do anything of worth here. Get a buckboard and lets get them to my office in town! Move!" he barked like a general. Time was critical to both men and he was running out of it.
Jason, Heath, Hunter and Jeff ran off toward the stable tent. Shawn made his way to Wade and Adam. Bret was on Shawn's heels, no way was Shawn getting out of his line of sight again.
While Wade explained why Adam had been drugged, Randal quickly cleaned and tightly bandaged Shawn's cut palm. "It will heal. It's not too deep, I don't need to stitch it. I'll need help at the office. Can you manage, both of you?" Orton asked. He knew it wouldn't be easy, but he needed all the help he could get.
Shawn gave a barely-there smile. "Of course, we will help in any way we can." He couldn't turn his back on anyone that needed help, enemy or not. Bret just sighed and nodded in agreement. Shawn was too good, but Bret loved him for it.
Randal moved back to Layfield. He wrapped the badly cut flesh to staunch as much of the bleeding as possible. The doctor then moved to Vince. The banker had been stabbed, just above his right nipple, and Randal quickly bandaged it. It would hold until they got back to town.
While Doctor Orton got his patients ready to travel, Shawn fussed over his youngest son. "My poor baby. Oh Wade, he's been through so much, what with the garden and all. No wonder he broke down. I wish the two of you could just go away for a week or so." He stroked Adam's head as he spoke. Adam seemed to sense the parental touch, even in his sleep. Wade noticed that the more Shawn stroked Adam's brow, the more Adam became rag like in his arms.
Wade smiled. "I wish we could too, you and Uncle as well. I'm closing the school tomorrow, and perhaps Tuesday as well," he cut his reply short. The others had returned with Hunter's buckboard and Bret's carriage.
Hunter told the Hardy brothers to remain on duty and keep watch over the fairgrounds. John Orton would remain as well as the senior deputy. Their main duty was to make sure the championship livestock that remained were safe from thieves that sometimes followed the carnival or circus.
Layfield and McMahon were loaded carefully into the buckboard. Shawn, Bret, Chris, Glenn and Mark also rode in the buckboard while Hunter drove. Wade, Adam, Jason, Heath and Lawler went in the carriage. Wade held Adam close as Jason drove and followed behind the buckboard. They were going home, there was nothing they could do to help at Randal's office. Besides, Wade was anxious to get Adam safely into their bed.
Hunter pulled the horses to a stop in front of Doctor Orton's office on Main Street. Layfield was carried in by the Marshals. The security agent had stopped struggling as he hovered on the brink of consciousness. Vince McMahon was able to walk with the help of Hunter and Chris.
When the buckboard was empty, Heath got out of the carriage and drove the buckboard to the town stables. Jason first dropped Wade and Adam off at the house, then drove with Jerry to the stables.
In Randal's office, the doctor, aided by Bret and Shawn, began to remove the bandages from Layfield's wrists. His injuries were more dangerous and required immediate attention.
Chris and Hunter cared for McMahon. The banker was distressed, but not because of his injury, he was worried about his friend. "What about John? Is he going to be alright?" Vince asked the sheriff and his husband. They had helped Vince remove his shirt and covered him with a warm blanket.
Hunter spoke frankly. "I don't know, but Doctor Orton is the best. If anyone can help him, it's Randal." His eyes looked into McMahon's, they burned with confidence. McMahon nodded and with a sigh, laid back to rest.
Randal's face was a stony mask. He had to work quickly, the wounds still bled freely and Layfield was growing weaker. Unless he could do something, Layfield's attempt at taking his own life would be successful.
"I need help, another doctor's help. Chris, go fetch that doctor from Boston, please?" Randal sounded frantic, and that was unusual for him. Chris immediately left to do as Randal requested. Doctor Patterson had left the fairgrounds when Colter and Cole went back to town.
Hunter went to check on Layfield. He knew there was a lot more to this situation and somehow, McMahon was at the center.
Vince looked at his estranged husband, who was wrapped in Hart's arms. Somewhere, deep in the pit of his heart, a very tiny spark of jealousy burst. He had loved Shawn once...
Vince was working at his desk, reading over a loan request in his office at the bank. The books were finally showing a steady rise in profit. Vince heard a quiet cough as he looked up from his work. His heart leaped in his chest, the young man who stood in the door of his office was beautiful. He fell in love at that very instant...
Vince turned away from the sight of Shawn in the arms of another. He himself wasn't sure when he'd fallen out of love with his husband. Life with Shawn and their children had become like a dog's collar that was on way too tight. Marriage choked him, angered him, he was bored, he wanted some excitement.
Vince then recalled the first time he'd hit Shawn in anger. All Shawn had done was come home five minutes late from a meeting at the church. He'd slapped Shawn for his lateness and the feeling of power, and watching Shawn's shocked eyes fill with tears went straight to his head... and his cock. Vince loved the feeling and it became a regular thing.
When he'd hired Eric to be his new secretary, Vince soon found a new outlet for the sexual charge that beating Shawn gave him. All of that had lead to where he was now and he wasn't at all sure how he felt about it.
There was something else playing in Vince's mind, something Adam had said earlier that night. What had he done? As hard as he tried, Vince could think of nothing. He'd never even struck Adam until that night in Boston, when he'd refused to marry Del Rio. Was that what Adam meant or was it something else? There was only one way to find out.
Before Vince could say anything, Doctor Patterson walked into Doctor Orton's office. "Sheriff, your husband said he noticed that the Zigglers were still up. He was going to tell them about finding Shawn and school being closed, then he was going home. Said he was just in the way here." The doctor, his message delivered, began to help Randal.
Vince winced and moaned in pain as he tried to sit up. It worked like a charm; Shawn came over to see what was wrong. Vince noticed that Hart stayed put, but his eyes were like those of an eagle, watching its prey.
"Vince, please lay still. Randal will be a bit. I can't... why would poor John want to... well, never mind, just be still." Shawn tried to be kind to his former... well, soon-to-be-former husband. He didn't trust Vince. Shawn wanted nothing to be used against him in court. He started to return to Bret.
"No, Shawn, please. I need to ask you something, about Adam..." Vince paused when he saw Shawn bristle and an icy frost glazed over his turquoise eyes.
"What about Adam? You know, now that he's married, he belongs to Wade. You can't sue for custody," Shawn spoke with an icy edge to his voice to match his eyes.
Vince gave Shawn a very confused look. "It never crossed my mind to take William and Adam from you, that was Cole talking. Adam... he said how could I talk about morals after what I'd done to him. Shawn, you know the only thing I've done is... smack him... once. He seems almost... disgusted with me..."
Shawn was so taken aback he had to make a grab for the table. He missed, but Vince's good arm caught him. Bret was there before anyone could blink. Vince saw the look of utter hatred in Bret Hart's eyes, and promptly let go of Shawn's arm.
Bret whispered in Shawn's ear, and with a nod, Shawn went to the waiting area in the front of Randal's office. Hart bent down low, until he was nose to nose with McMahon, his eyes and snarled lips made Bret look feral.
There weren't many times in his life when Vince McMahon had been afraid, however this was one of those times. As he noted before, Bret Hart had power.
Bret hissed his words through gritted teeth. "How dare you. How damn dare you. You... raped your thirteen year old son and you wonder why he finds you disgusting?! You are disgusting! This will be brought up in court. You're a filthy animal. I almost wish Layfield had stabbed you right though the heart. Now stay away from my family! You are a vile, disgusting, filthy, dirty... I can't even call you a man, you are a... a... devil!" He punctuated his words with a growl and flare of his nostrils, his eyes burned into Vince's very soul. Bret then went to the waiting room to be with Shawn.
Vince McMahon froze in disbelief, he couldn't believe what he'd just heard. There had to be a mistake, there was no way he could have done such a thing. With the baby, he hadn't been really sure if Shawn had been pregnant, or if he had just said that to keep from being punished. But to be accused of... with his own son? No, no... Adam had to be lying... probably to get attention. Vince felt weak and tired... he'd deal with this later. He laid back and closed his eyes and tried to erase Hart's accusation from his mind.
Shawn curled into Bret's arms. "Why is he acting like he doesn't remember what he did? Is it just to gain the crab business? Bret, has the world gone to the power of the... the... damn... bullwashers?" He was stupefied over the events of the last few days, starting with the destruction of the school garden and ending with his strange encounter with John Bradshaw Layfield.
Bret pulled Shawn even closer. "You're safe, that's all I care about. I'm so sorry I let you get in harm's way, but now I'm going to scold you. Don't ever wander off alone again or I'm going to put you over my knee and spank your lovely little bottom." He said his words firmly, but he gave Shawn a teasing wink, hoping to relieve some of Shawn's pent up tension.
Shawn slapped Bret's shoulder playfully. "Yes, Bret. I should have asked someone to go with me, especially when I knew they were at the fair. Kiss me, Bret, just please kiss me..." He leaned in and kissed Bret passionately. He needed to feel Bret's love, he needed his Bretty.
Bret responded happily and took control of the kiss. He pulled Shawn against him, his hands running up and down Shawn's back gently as their tongues slid against each other. He needed to feel that Shawn was alive, that their baby was safe. When the kiss finally broke, Bret and Shawn's foreheads were pressed together. Both men felt better and much calmer as they waited for news of John Bradshaw Layfield's fate.
Two hours later, Randal, his shirt stained with blood, walked out to the waiting room and smiled softly. It was nice to see something sweet after all the sour blood. Shawn was curled up in Bret's arms, and Bret's head rested on Shawn's head. They were sound asleep.
"Bret, Shawn?" Randy said softly as he gently shook Bret's shoulder. Randy wanted to check Shawn's hand one last time, then send them home.
Dark brown and turquoise eyes fluttered open at the same time. Shawn flushed a bit ad having been caught on Bret's lap. Bret didn't care, he tightened his arms around Shawn's waist, preventing his fiancé's escape. Shawn sat still.
"How are they, Doc?" Bret asked as he gave Shawn's abdomen a gentle rub.
Randal let out an exhausted sigh and sank down in a chair across from the couple. "I have to say Doctor Patterson is excellent. McMahon will be fine. The knife only penetrated a quarter inch. He will be stiff and sore, but a full recovery is expected. As for Layfield..." Randal ran his fingers through his short, dark hair, then continued. "We'll just have to wait and see. He sliced both arteries open. Again, Doctor Patterson is amazing, the way he stitched Layfield's wounds, I've never seen surgical skills like that before. They will both go back to the hotel later, Patterson will look after them. We may have to send Layfield to Helena, but... Bret, I need to talk business with you when things settle. Great Falls needs... a hospital or at least I need a bigger office, with a proper surgery. Anyway, Shawn, I want to check your hand."
Shawn remain firmly planted on Bret's lap as Randal examined his injury. Shawn spoke as Randy worked. "Patrick is a good doctor. He ran a field hospital for the Army during the war. He saved a lot of boys from amputation. He brought my boys into the world..." He went on to tell about more heroic things the older doctor had done during the Civil War.
Randy wrapped a new, fresh bandage around Shawn's hand. "I wish I had someone like him to help." Sometimes it was hard to be the lone physician. He and John could never travel or even take a day off. He needed help, the help only another doctor could bring.
Bret nodded. "We'll talk, Randal. I agree with you. Maybe if you expand you could get a second doctor to show interest. What about Shawn, is his hand going to be alright?" His eyes were full of worry and concern, his gaze wandered down to Shawn's abdomen, then again caught Orton's icy blue eyes.
Randal understood. "They are both fine. Don't get the bandage wet. Come back in a couple of days so I can check it. Rest is best. Did you have any cramps or other pain?" he asked as he ran his hand over his patient's slight baby bump.
Shawn smiled. "Only an upset stomach this morning, peppermint tea took care of it. Randal, what about Adam? Will my baby be alright?"
"Just a moment," Randy said as he stood to his full height. He went back into his examination room, and returned a few moments later with a small bottle of liquid in his hand. "Have him take a teaspoon of this with breakfast. It's perfectly safe, I make it myself. John and I take it every day. It's a mixture of herbs, and the juice of oranges, lemons and carrots boiled with honey. It's full of good, strong vitamins."
Shawn looked worriedly, first at the bottle, then Randal. "Is Adam ill?"
Doctor Randal Orton put a steadying hand on Shawn's shoulder. He saw that Bret was just as concerned. "No, I promise you. He's just a tad underweight. He's been through a lot lately. This will boost his appetite a bit, and that's all, I promise. He might have a headache when he wakes from his deep sleep, but other than that he'll be fine. Go home and rest, please. Shawn, you are such a caring person, but please, worry about yourself and the baby. It's alright to be selfish. By that, I mean rest. Let the others cook and clean. You are fine to keep working for Hunter two days a week, but when you are tired, it's alright to let others take care of you. Please, Shawn? It is riskier at your age to be with child. I just want you and baby Hart to be safe and healthy," he spoke seriously, but his eyes and face showed friendly concern.
Bret laughed heartily. "Thanks, Doc! Maybe he'll finally listen to you. Let's get you two home. Keep us posted on those two." Bret nodded towards the examination room and shook hands with Randy. He slipped a few bills of paper money into Randal's hand.
Randal thanked the couple. One thing about Bret, at least he paid, and paid in cash. Most times people paid him in food, chickens or other things. He didn't mind though, it was part of being of country doctor.
Shawn gave Randal a hug and thanked him. Shawn and Bret made the short walk home. It was nearing four in the morning, and the house and its occupants were sound asleep. Shawn left Adam's medicine on the kitchen able with a note that explained it. He and Bret then went to their own bed.
Wade had woken up when the bells on the courthouse clock rang. He smiled, Adam was still sound asleep. As a matter of fact, his husband hadn't moved from the position he'd been in after Wade had changed him into his night shirt and tucked him in. Adam clutched his stuffed dog to his chest. In one brief moment of lucidity, he'd called for Mister Spotty. Wade knew Adam was really calling for Shawn, but once he had the dog in his hand, he never made another sound nor movement.
Wade needed to go post a note on the school house doors to let the children know there would be no school today or tomorrow. The superintendent had looked at the term calendar. If he added two days at the end, there would be no problem. He'd stay home with Adam today, then finish the tests on Tuesday. He hoped to have a chance to explain to Jim Neidhart when he and Bret did their horse trading.
Quietly, Wade crept downstairs. He'd tucked his nightshirt into his trousers, and put on his coat and hat. He took a quill, ink and paper to the kitchen table. He was highly relieved to see Shawn's copperplate handwriting as he read the note. With a grin on his face, he made out the note for the children. Wade's handwriting was just as neat and perfect as Shawn's, but his style of writing was more in the Britte's range, a more European version of Shawn's copperplate. Wade's writing had more swishes and flourishes. He'd developed the style while at University. Of course, as Adam teased, Wade's everyday handwriting was a mess of chicken scratches.
The house was still quiet when Wade returned. He put the milk delivery in the ice box, then leaving his hat and coat on the rack, he went back upstairs to his sleeping husband. This time, Adam had moved, he was on his right side and had reached out for Wade, or so it appeared.
Wade took off his trousers. He snickered to himself as he heard the middle stair squeak, then after a moment, the door to Heath's room open and close. Everyone knew Jason always sneaked up to spend some alone time with Heath. They also knew nothing sinful would happen. Jason had too much respect for his Sweet Pea for that.
Back in his marital bed, Wade smiled. Like one magnet attracted to another, Adam wrapped his body around his husband as Mister Spotty fell to the floor. Once again the house on Maple Street fell into a quiet sleep.
Wade woke once again, two hours later, as Adam was whimpering and thrashing. The medicine induced sleep was wearing off. "Poppa... wh... where... are... Poppa..." Adam muttered as he tossed his blond head from side to side.
Wade sat up and leaned against the headboard, and gently lifted his young husband into his arms. Wade could just lean down and reach the tail of Mister Spotty, so he picked it up and put the toy in Adam's hand. Adam clutched it in his half asleep state.
"Hush, now Poppet. Your poppa is home and safe," Wade whispered in Adam's ear, then kissed his temple. Wade knew at least that Shawn was home, and well enough to write a note about Adam's medicine, so he was able to speak with confidence.
Adam continued to clutch the stuffed dog as his eyes began their struggle to open with several flutters. His head pounded, but it wasn't the worst headache he'd ever had. With a final struggle, his hazel eyes opened.
"Poppa?" Adam asked as he craned his neck to look Wade in the eyes. Married only a week and a day, but he could tell if his husband was lying or not.
Wade kissed the top of Adam's nose. "Yes, Poppet. He's home and safe. I haven't seen him, but he left a note and some medicine for you on the kitchen table. He couldn't have done that if he wasn't home, now could he?" Wade smiled softly at Adam.
Adam wrinkled his brow as he scratched his bearded chin. "Medicine? I... know... I got.. a bit hysterical last night... but... why... no... no, I'm not crazy. I've read about medicine they give insane people to keep them... calm. I'm fine Wade... please..." He'd visited the lunatic asylum in Boston as part of a church Christmas mission two years ago, he was not like those poor people.
Wade lifted Adam's chin and looked him directly in the eye. "No, I saw that it was just some of Doc Orton's vitamin mixture. I've taken it myself. Sometimes our bodies need a few extra vitamins. I promise, that's all it is. He only gave you enough for a week. Are you hungry?" Wade asked with a soft smile, seeing the relief wash over Adam as it sunk in that Shawn was home and he wasn't crazy.
Adam put Mister Spotty in his usual place on the nightstand. All he wanted now was to feel loved and Wade did that for him. At that moment, his love for his husband grew even more.
Adam leaned up and placed his lips next to Wade's ear, and began to whisper. "I'd be lost without you, my Dragon. My love for you grows deeper every day. I love you," the puffs of his breath were hot in Wade's ear. It went right to the older man's cock.
The Dragon gave a low rumble of a growl. "I love you, my Poppet. I'd be just as lost without you. I'd almost given up on love, until the most beautiful man I'd ever seen walked into the hotel restaurant. I knew you were the one for me. My dearest heart, you are my world," he punctuated his words with a tender kiss to Adam's lips. He wanted more, but in Adam's emotional state, he wasn't about to push. The decision would be Adam's alone.
Adam was about to respond when he suddenly sat up. In his usual fashion he was so quick, he slammed his elbow into Wade's ribs. "I'm late! Oh! The children! My school!" He tried to get out of bed, but Wade held him firmly by the waist.
"Easy, love. First, I'm going to pad those bony elbows of yours. Secondly, as superintendent, I've closed the school until Wednesday. You need the rest, and they deserve the time off to celebrate their good luck at the fair. So, Mister Barrett, you... are... all... mine... to... play... with..." he sloppily pecked Adam's lips between his last words, the last peck ended with a seductive growl.
Adam's eyes shone with adoration. His husband was so thoughtful. Adam showed how much he appreciated that thoughtfulness. He gave Wade a very passionate kiss as he slipped his hand under Wade's night shirt and trailed his hand southward...
In the master bedroom, Bret and Shawn laid flat on their backs, their breaths coming in hard pants. Both men were covered in a light sheen of sweat, and cum glittered on Bret's stomach and Shawn's thighs. They had been in the throes of passion for the last hour.
Bret and Shawn had both awoken when the chimes echoed from the courthouse clock. Bret had been hot for his lover and Shawn's pregnancy hormones had made him just as heated. Now they were hand in hand as they basked in the afterglow of their passion.
Bret raised Shawn's uninjured right hand to his lips and kissed it. "You are always wonderful, but being with child... makes you glorious. I didn't know you could bend like that," he said in a husky-voiced rasp.
Shawn flushed. "I didn't either, but it was worth it. It took the pressure off my lower back," he said, recalling in his mind how wonderful it had felt.
When they had been making love, Shawn has put his legs on Bret's shoulders. As Bret thrust into his tight hole, Shawn realized the more he brought his knees to his chest, the deeper Bret could go. At one point, for a couple of strokes, Shawn's knees were almost to his ears. His only regret was he couldn't hold the position for very long.
Bret laughed softly. "Reminded me of a book I looked at when I was in Paris, in eighteen eighty..." he bit his lip guiltily, then continued. "It was um... a book about... positions... during relations."
Shawn laughed. "You're a grown man, Bret. What you read is your own business. I am surprised though, that a book like that would have been published." He looked at his fiancé, amused by Bret's embarrassed blush.
Bret chuckled. "I was in a café and two ladies were absolutely berating their husbands about some book that had fallen out of the coat pocket of one of the men. They left, and I noticed the book had been left behind. So, being naturally curious, I reached over and grabbed the book. My waiter arrived with the man I was meeting for business, so I quickly stuck the book in my own coat pocket and forgot about it. Later, at the hotel, I remembered my little treasure and I got the book out of my pocket. I sat down on the bed to look at it. It was a Hindu book, written by Sir R. F. Burton and it was called the Kama Sutra. It was a book about... um... love and... um... positions for couples... um... to try... in bed. It was quite... educational. I wish I'd kept it..." His tone was so wistful it made Shawn laugh even more.
Shawn laughed so hard, he had to roll onto his side and bury his face in Bret's neck to keep from waking the entire house. Bret was amused by Shawn's mirth at his embarrassment, but he held Shawn in his arms as Shawn worked to calm himself.
When he was able, Shawn finally spoke. "Well, no wonder those wives were upset. Good thing your business companion didn't see it. I've heard that Paris is more... open about such things... will you take me there someday? Maybe we can find that book... give its ideas... a try," he teased his eyes filled with tears of laughter. Those were the kind of tears Bret loved, because he knew Shawn was happy, and he was part of the reason.
It was Bret's turn to bury his face in Shawn's hair as he laughed. Shawn's tone of wishing to visit Paris made it sound like the only reason he wanted to go was to read that book. It felt so good to laugh, especially in the arms of the person you love. It was a better way to start a new week.
Earlier that morning Jason had heard Wade downstairs. His brother-in-law had gone to the kitchen, then he'd left the house and returned a little over ten minutes later. Jason heard Wade putting the dairy delivery in the ice box, then go back upstairs. As soon as Jason heard that Wade was back in his bedroom, he got up.
Jason went to the kitchen and was delighted to see his poppa's delicate handwriting on a note that had been left on the kitchen table. If his poppa was able to write a note, that meant he was home, alive and well! He just had to tell Heath. Jason went back to his bedroom under the stairs, grabbed his robe and slipped it on as he went up the stairs. Jason cursed to himself when he hit the squeaky stair. Oh well, everyone knew he spent alone time with Heath. He also knew everyone knew they did not engage in any monkey business.
Jason quietly opened the door to what was technically his bedroom. Heath used it whenever he came to stay. After they married, it would become their honeymoon paradise. He smiled, Heath was curled up, almost like a puppy buried under the covers, with just a bit of red hair peeking out from under the quilts.
Jason tiptoed over to the small fireplace, struck a match, and lit the pre-laid pile of paper, kindling and wood. The fire slowly crackled into life. He wanted Heath to be warm when he got up later.
He chuckled when the covers seemed to pull back like magic, and a very muffled voice came out from under the covers. "Hurry daddy, you're letting in the cold air," the voice seemed to chatter with the cold.
Heath hated the cold. To anyone else, it wasn't all that cold, it was just a nice, crisp fall morning. Jason quickly slipped into the bed and under the clovers. Heath tossed the quilts back over their heads.
The younger man snuggled up to Jason with a sigh of contentment. Jason wrapped his arms around Heath. "Poppa is safe. I haven't seen him, but there was a note on the kitchen table, in his handwriting. It's about some medicine for Adam. He also said he'd talk to us later. Thank God he's alright. I'm also glad Chris gave us the next two days off, maybe we can do something with Wade and Adam later," he whispered into Heath's soft, sweet smelling hair. He knew now he'd be able to finally sleep.
Heath curled closer. "Yes, thank God. I'm glad Shawn is home and safe. That would be fun, I want to go to Drew's later, pick out our invitations. We only need a dozen or so. Burrrr... it's cold," his teeth chattered again as he got as close as possible to Jason.
Jason smiled. "What are you going to do when it gets really cold? Or we have a blizzard?" He shuddered himself as he recalled "the white hurricane" from earlier in the year, back on the East coast. It seemed like it had been an eternity ago, instead of a few months.
Heath shivered. "Never get out of bed?" he laughed. "No, I adjust, slowly. Now, kiss me," Heath whispered in a seductive growl.
Jason did as requested. He pulled Heath to him and kissed his fiancé. Heath moaned softly as their tongues tangled together in a waltz of love. Heath smiled internally, his being "cold" had worked again. In reality, he loved the snow and cold, but Jason didn't need to know that; yet anyway. After several long, loving kisses, the engaged couple fell asleep buried in the warmth of love.
By eleven in the morning, the entire family was gathered around the kitchen table, eating a light brunch of biscuits, jam, cheese, and cold roast beef along with hot tea or coffee.
Shawn had filled his family in on what had happened to him. They were all horrified, especially Jason and Adam, who knew Layfield. Shawn said he didn't know what had happened after leaving the storm cellar. In a way, they felt bad for Layfield, it sounded like he had a lot of serious problems.
They were sitting there quietly, thankful that they were all together, safe and sound, when there was a knock on the back porch door. It was unusual, but sometimes one of the neighbors or a child would come to the back door.
After a playful argument about who went to the door, Shawn got up to see who it was. He opened the door to the washing porch, then he saw who their visitor was.
"Hello, Shawn, can... can we talk?" Vince said as he stood, hat in hand at the back porch door.