Welcome to Chapter II. This chapter will conclude the flashbacks of their flight from Los Alamos to Montana. The next chapter will pick the December narrative again. I hope everyone enjoys this.
Reviews are wonderful things and very much appreciated.
On This Winter's Night With You, Part II
March 1983
Irony, thought Owen. It was a funny thing. One of the first things he'd said to Abby –on the second meeting, no less, was that she smelled funny. That was a few weeks ago. And now, he thought, he was the one smelling rather funny himself, if his estimation of the situation was in any way correct.
Of course, is his defense, he hadn't had a proper shower since Los Alamos. And how long ago was that? It was about three days now; since he was last in his old apartment in Los Alamos. True, he'd stood under the shower spray in the lockers after emerging bloodied and scraped from the swimming pool. But, it had definitely not been a proper shower with soap or shampoo. In addition, he'd been travelling most of the last two days and today, he was currently inside of a steamer trunk. Even with his coat now bunched up and acting as a cushion for his head, it was hot and he was perspiring.
He wondered if Abby would comment on it if she were awake now. In the dark and cramped confines of the large steamer trunk, about the only comfort he could take was the close presence of Abby's sleeping form. Needless to say, a close presence was a definite understatement. He and Abby were pressed together more or less like a pair of human sardines. As well, a various assortment of Abby's admittedly few possessions were also in the trunk with them. They'd been redistributed strategically to allow for maximum comfort to the two passengers now waiting out the day inside the sturdy steamer trunk.
However, Abby was dead to the world –how literal that phrase was in Abby's case during daylight hours, Owen really couldn't tell and, at that point, it did not sit high on his list of concerns at any rate. All he knew was that Abby had warned him that once the sun rose, she was likely to fall asleep at any time. The vampire's sleep instinct was powerful and –so she said- it was a great chore for a vampire to stay awake once the need for sleep came upon them. Her words were most prophetic. Within an hour of them closing the trunk's lid at the baggage area of the Denver railway station, Abby had audibly yawned. In the dark, Owen could feel her fingers gently feeling for his face. Once she had her hands on either side of his head, she gently pulled him towards her. In the dark, Owen felt their lips lock together and her tongue briefly flit across his teeth. Abby broke the kiss and sleepily whispered a good night, then fell completely silent.
Owen had no exact way of knowing how long she'd been asleep. He did know that the train north to Missoula, Montana had been due to leave at nine in the morning, sharp. It seemed to him that they had left on time. They'd already been placed on the floor of the baggage car before Abby's daytime slumber began. After Abby had fallen asleep, he'd felt a rumble and then vibration as the train began to move. Their progress had seemingly been steady. There had been several stops so far. At one of them, a baggage handler had come into the car and Owen could hear some bags being moved around, luckily nobody had come close to the trunk. It was locked from the inside, but Owen didn't want to take any chances.
Owen couldn't even read his wristwatch. The luminous dial and hands required some light to charge them up, so to speak. They'd been in total darkness for so long, any glow had long since faded, leaving him with no way to tell what time it was. It had to be into the afternoon by now, wasn't it?
He wondered if he should lift the lid of the trunk open a little. Abby had said he could if the car was dark. Owen didn't know how much light would be dangerous for her though. In Los Alamos, it looked like Abby was alright in the bathroom that had paper taped over the windows. Still…He was afraid of the possible consequences. He'd rather stay in darkness until the trunk was offloaded than put Abby to any risk.
Still, Abby had said that it would be alright if there were no windows in the car. Owen, reached up and felt around for the improvised deadbolt that held the lid shut. He slid it open, took a deep breath and pushed the lid of the trunk up by about a half-inch. Suppressing a moan brought about from his stiff body, he propped himself up on one arm and peered out through the crack. A joyful sight met his eyes. The baggage room was totally windowless and appeared to only be lit by a single bulb by the door. (The faint bulb's light did seem maddeningly bright to Owen after he'd been immersed in darkness for so many hours).
The air that now flooded into his nostrils was shockingly cold and carried the scent of diesel fuel from the engine. Yet, it seemed amazingly fresh to Owen. All a matter of perspective, he thought. Looking around, he could see that the trunk was situated in a corner of the car. It was far from the either the main door used to load the baggage or, or the access door used by the train's crew. Still, Owen didn't want to take a chance by pushing the lid open all the way. Feeling around in a pouch that lined the trunk's side, he withdrew the Rubik's Cube that he'd had with him in Los Alamos. It was actually what broke the ice, initially, with Abby. For that reason alone, Owen now thought it far more than a mere puzzle. For right now though, it could serve another purpose. Lifting up the lid another inch, or so, Owen inserted the Cube in the space between the lid and the trunk, making sure to keep most of the Cube's volume inside the trunk. Thus, all he had to do was reach up and give it a yank and the lid would shut again. So, Owen could now lean back and actually enjoy some fresh air even if he still had to contend with the cramped quarters.
Leaning back down, Owen thought that if it wasn't for the crowded conditions, this would be just fine. He really couldn't think of anything nicer than just lying close to Abby. If she'd been awake, it would have been perfect. However, he was still content just to lie next to her in peaceful darkness. Just a few weeks ago, Owen would have been beside himself with happiness if could just have a friend. It was so remote a possibility, he'd never even let himself hope for it. And then…Abby moved in next door to him. Before he knew it, Owen had the friend he'd so badly wanted. Soon, his feelings for her had passed far beyond friendship. The strangest thing for him, he thought, looking back, was that ALL of it came so stunningly clear to him at once. After he'd learned the truth about her he'd been shocked, then scared. Just what did she want with him anyways?
The next night, though, she'd come to his apartment and he realized just what Abby was to him. He still felt guilty about goading her to enter his apartment without a verbal invitation. Perhaps, in hindsight, he was trying to posture to cover his nervousness over what she was. It was when she'd stood before him, with blood pouring out of every pore she had, that it all shrunk down to something so painfully simple. He loved her. He loved her, no matter what she was. He'd seen her literally dying in front of him and in an instant he'd realized that he couldn't face losing her. All of a sudden, the fact she was a vampire seemed completely insignificant compared to his realization of the huge place she now occupied in his heart. He screamed out an invitation and just collected her in his arms and held her tight as –to his great relief- he saw that the bleeding stopped.
And now, they were together. They were embarking on a new life together, or so they both dearly hoped. For the first time he could remember, Owen saw the future as something he could not wait for.
The faint light had allowed him to see his watch. It was two in the afternoon already. They were due into Missoula at around half past six. Owen decided he should try to get some sleep. He took a final breath of cool air and reluctantly removed the Rubik's Cube from the lid. Settling back down into the darkness next to Abby, he reached out and found her hand. He gently gave it a squeeze and leaned in very close to her.
"Sweet dreams Abby. I love you.", he whispered softly before forcing himself to relax and allow the rhythmic movement of the train to lull him to sleep.
"Owen? Owen?", he heard the beautiful soft voice that he so loved calling him in a whisper.
"Abby?"
"Now who else would be here, silly?", she asked with a giggle.
"What time is it? Where are we?"
"Your watch says it's six o'clock. I guess we have to be pretty close to Missoula."
"You can see my watch?"
"Of course. Owen, don't forget, darkness is my natural element"
"Yeah…I guess I never thought of that. What should we do once we're there?"
"I was thinking that I'd get the tickets for the last leg to Cold Creek. Can you handle staying in here a while longer? I thought we'd do what we did in Pueblo. That seemed to work fine."
"If you think that's best."
"Sorry, but I do."
"OK."
"Just think Owen, a couple of more days and we'll be there."
"I know. I can't wait. I wonder what my grandfather will say."
Abby didn't say that she was wondering the very same thing. She had no idea how they would explain her presence. "I'm sure it'll work out fine.", Abby said with more confidence than she felt.
The local train didn't leave until eight-thirty, as it had been delayed down the line. That gave Owen and Abby a couple of hours to kill. Abby –again wearing Owen's shoes- pushed the trunk outside the station and found a secluded spot to let Owen out for some air and to stretch his legs. Nobody was seen anywhere. Apparently, Missoula wasn't a bustling place on a weekday night in March. The two looked around at their surroundings. Abby's eyes locked on a white building with a red cross near the roof, that was situated a block away. A sign denoted the name of the building as St. Patrick's Hospital. A hospital, she thought. This might be a time to try something Owen suggested.
"Owen."
"Yeah?"
"Wait here. I want to try something. I'll be back in five minutes, I promise."
Before Owen had a chance to respond, Abby had across the street so fast he couldn't believe it. Owen just sat on a public bench and savoured the fresh air as he massaged his legs. True to her word, not more than five minutes passed when Owen sensed something. He turned and saw Abby standing beside him with a smile on her face and some objects in her hands.
"What do you have there?"
"I thought we both needed some food.", she replied. She handed him a wrapped sandwich. "This is from a food cart that was just outside the cafeteria. And *this* was from the blood bank.", she said as she showed him the contents of her other hand. There, were two plastic IV bags full of blood. A prominent label denoted them as "O-Positive"
"You're going to try it?"
"Why not? I need to know sooner or later if this idea will work..", Abby replied. She looked at the IV bag, then wrenched off the bottom valve, where the IV line was supposed to be attached. She placed the valve in her mouth and gave it a squeeze has she sucked at it simultaneously. Half the bag's contents was consumed in a rapid manner, as Owen watched with wonder. Abby made a puzzled face as she took the valve from her mouth.
"Does it work?", Owen asked with trepidation.
"I think it does.", Abby said as a smile crept over her bloodied lips. "It's a little different than what I've had before, but I don't feel funny or anything." She put the valve back in her mouth and polished off the remainder of the contents. She grabbed the other bag and repeated the procedure.
"Owen," she said excitedly, "I think this idea of yours is really going to work." Her smile grew wide as she allowed her mind to grasp the possibilities of being able to feed regularly without a trail of bodies appearing in her wake.
"I wonder if you'll be able to use animal blood as well.", Owen speculated.
"I don't know. But, so long as I know I can find blood banks like these, I know I'll have at least one safe place to feed from."
"Aren't you glad you changed your mind about how we couldn't be friends?", Owen asked with a smile of his own.
"You have no idea. Now, eat your sandwich. You need to eat too. You must be starving. Then, we need to figure out the final steps for us to get to your grandfather's"
"Well, I looked up his place on the map, back in Los Alamos from time to time. I would do that on my birthday, or Christmas, or whenever I thought it would be nice to see him again. His place is about ten miles outside of the town. I think we'll have to walk once we're there."
"Yeah. We really don't have a choice with that. What time does the train arrive in Cold Creek?"
"Well, if it leaves here at half past eight, we're supposed to arrive around nine-thirty."
"And then a ten mile walk with the trunk? We should probably arrive there at midnight, it we're lucky."
"We have been, so far…", Owen started to say but was interrupted by a coughing spasm.
"Are you alright?", Abby asked, her voice tinged with faint concern.
"I'm fine.", Owen said. His voice seemed raspy though and Abby thought he looked pale. She also noted that his eyes looked rheumy and he seemed to be shivering.
"You don't look fine to me, Owen.", she said softly.
"Well, it doesn't really matter. We can't stop now."
"I know. But Owen…When did you last get any sleep?"
"I got about three hours this afternoon; maybe four."
"What about before that?"
"Before that, I don't remember. I know I didn't sleep much the last few nights in Los Alamos. With everything that was happening, I just couldn't sleep."
"When did you last eat, before that sandwich?"
"I think…I ate something in Santa Fe."
"Owen…That means you've barely eaten or slept in days. It's no wonder you're getting sick!"
"I know. But we have to keep going.", he rasped before another coughing fit. "We have to get someplace where you can be safe."
"We have to get *you* someplace where you can rest, eat and get better.", she countered, rubbing his cold hands in concern.
"We have to take care of each other, I think.", Owen said as he leaned against her.
"Yeah…That sounds right to me.", she said as she hugged him as is she could will him to be better.
The final leg on the train was accomplished easily. The last ten miles to the ranch were not quite so fortunate. When Owen emerged from the trunk into the dark and quiet night –the small town of Cold Creek was even more quiet than Missoula had been- a cold March rain was falling. Owen shivered as he stepped into his shoes and laced them back up. He picked up one of the trunk's handles, Abby took the other, and they began the walk to their hoped for future.
It was, perhaps, the longest and easily the most miserable walk either of them had ever taken. The cold rain only lasted about halfway to the ranch. At the half-way point it turned into sleet. Both of them were soaked through long before that though. Abby, of course, wasn't bothered by the cold. She was, however, very greatly bothered –downright worried was more like it- by Owen's constant coughing, rasping and the occasional sneeze. Several times Abby suggested she fly Owen the rest of the way, and she would return later for the trunk on her own. Owen wouldn't hear of it though, as he refused outright any idea that involved Abby leaving her daytime shelter unattended or protected. He likewise refused to let Abby carry the trunk all of her own. He said, between coughs, that he was fine carrying his end of it.
At midnight, almost exactly as they'd planned it, they came over a rise –they'd been walking through the woods that ran parallel to the road, to ensure no passing motorist spotted them- and saw the ranch. Owen had very vague memories of the place from his early childhood. It was –of course- Abby's first look at the place. It consisted of a solidly built, two-storey house constructed of stone. Surrounding it was a barn, a garage, a tool shed, and various other small structures that had clearly been added to over the years. Covering a vast area of the property were open fields and paddocks where Abby could make out the sheep and cattle that the ranch raised. Evergreen woods stretched almost to the house and their fragrant scent was a treat to the senses. In the house, to their mutual surprise, some lights still shone in the ground floor windows and the telltale blue glow of the television could be seen.
Owen took a breath and gathered his courage. He took a look back at Abby, who stood just to the back of him, on the porch steps, and rapped three times with the door- knocker. There was a series of muffled sounds from within, followed by steps approaching the door. Owen and Abby could hear the lock turning open and then the door swung open, to reveal Oscar Alfredson.
Owen's grandfather bulged his eyes out at the sight of the two on his front porch. He stared long and hard at Owen. Finally, he spoke in a tone that indicated he didn't believe his own eyes.
"Owen? Is that really you?"
"Hello Grandpa. Yes, it's me."
"Oh my God, what…what are you doing here?"
"It's a long story."
"Where's your mother?"
"She's not here."
"Who's that with you?", Oscar asked as he seemingly took notice of Abby for the first time.
"That's Abby."
"Who's Abby?"
"Abby is…with me."
"What do you mean?"
"Grandpa…It's a long story. I'm not even sure if you could believe it."
"Owen, this is already hard to believe. I haven't seen you in what, seven years, and now you show up here, at midnight, with some strange girl. What is going on?"
"Abby is…", Owen tried to find some way he could say this without sounding like an escaped lunatic. But, he realized there was truly no other way but the direct approach. "Abby is…a vampire."
"A what?", Oscar asked flatly. He was thinking that either he'd heard wrong. He had fallen asleep while watching the late movie on television and was dreaming. Or, either he or Owen (along with this girl he was with) had gone completely insane.
"A vampire.", Abby repeated. Then, as Oscar shifted his eyes to her, in response to her words, something happened that changed his view of the world forever. Abby's face began to change. Before his unblinking eyes, her face shifted into something that was…unreal. Her teeth suddenly appeared astoundingly prominent and razor sharp. Her eyes turned a completely different colour. In addition, her fingernails suddenly appeared quite long and dangerous as well. It was like watching a horror movie on television, but this was happening on his own front porch.
"Grandpa," Owen asked as he gently took his grandfather's hand, calloused from decades of working the ranch, in his own small one, "do you believe us now?"
"Yes.", Oscar said numbly. There was nothing else to say. Like Saint Thomas, he'd been shown the proof before his very eyes. His eyes were still locked on Abby who was shifting back into her normal appearance. Abby smiled at Oscar, as if she was trying to show that even though she could have a fearsome appearance, she wasn't a threat to him.
"Can we come in?", Owen asked. Oscar nodded dumbly.
"Could you please say it out loud?", Owen asked politely. He didn't want a repeat of what happened in Los Alamos. He wasn't certain his grandfather would recover from the shock in time to extend an invitation. This wasn't his home, at least not yet, so he couldn't do it. And, he wouldn't risk Abby's safety when they'd finally reached their destination.
"You two can come in.", Oscar said as he decided that either his life had really changed forever, or he had gone insane. Either way, there was no point in them standing out on the porch. He stepped back from the door and picked up an object that had clearly been kept out of view from the door but had been within easy reach for his grandfather. Owen looked and saw it was an M-1 Garand rifle. Obviously his grandfather still had his old World War II rifle and wasn't used to late night callers. Oscar led them into the kitchen.
Over a half-hour later, the three of them were seated around the kitchen table. Owen had just recounted for his grandfather the events that had taken place in Los Alamos, from his meeting Abby to their arrival at the ranch. Oscar looked at the two youngsters.
"And, you want to stay here?"
"Like I told you, Grandpa, we can't go back. The police would think that I killed Kenny and his buddies or I've been brainwashed by that Satanic cult they think is behind it all. And, I can't put Abby into any danger…I won't.", Owen said with determination. His forcible demeanor was broken by another coughing spell. Abby noted that he definitely looked ill.
"And you want…Abby…to stay hidden here and just feed off wildlife and blood that Sam, the town butcher has lying around?"
"It's a way she could survive without having to attack anyone. If she does that, nobody would even know she's here."
"But Owen…", Oscar began only to be interrupted as Owen started coughing again.
"Stop.", Abby said suddenly as she rose to her feet. "Mr. Alfredson, I don't blame you for not wanting me here. I know what I am. Owen needs a place to stay though. He's sick. You can see that. Please, if you let him stay here, I'll leave and I won't be troubling you again." Abby said with a solemn voice and a falling heart.
"Abby, no!", Owen cried hoarsely.
"Owen, there's no other way."
"Oh yes there is. I just won't stay here either."
"You have to, you're sick."
"I don't care. I told you back in Los Alamos that I couldn't face you leaving again. I meant it then, and I mean it now. I don't care about where we are, so long as we're together."
"My God, Owen, you can't go out in the cold like this. I'll be alright."
"No, Abby; you need me and I need you. It's just that simple.", Owen retorted.
As Oscar watched his grandson and the young (well, young looking) vampire girl argue, a memory came to him. It was a scene from some fifty years earlier, when he was only a year or two older than Oscar was now. He'd returned to the ranch after riding the rails, trying to find work so he could send money home during those terribly hard first years of the Great Depression. On his travels, he'd met a young girl named Elina, who was living under even harsher circumstances than he was. They bonded and soon came to trust each other in those hard times. One thing led to another, and they became inseparable. When he got word from his father that things had improved on the ranch enough that he could now come home as there was work enough again now, he'd brought Elina with him. His family was shocked at this vagabond girl who'd accompanied him home. But, Oscar had stood his ground. He'd told his father and family bluntly that if Elina wasn't welcomed there, he wouldn't stay either. His family relented and Elina became a part of life there. Within a few months of returning, they'd married and had remained inseparable (aside from his leaving for overseas service during the Second World War) until her passing. Now, Oscar realized –with a shock as great as the one at seeing what Abby was- that history was repeating itself. Owen had returned to his family's land with a girl that clearly was as much as an outcast as his Elina was. He could also see that both of them meant what they were saying. Abby was willing to leave so Owen could be safe, while Owen was willing to risk a life on the move to remain with her. He saw the looks they were giving each other. They were absolutely identical to the looks he gave Elina for well over four decades and she gave him in return. It was time to put a stop to this.
"Enough!", said Oscar sternly. The two turned to look at him. "You're staying here. The BOTH of you are staying here. I don't know if I'm going to wake up any minute in my bed, or the easy chair in front of the television to find this is a dream, or not; but as far as I'm concerned, you're both staying put."
Owen and Abby looked at each other and then Oscar. They were clearly surprised by this turn of events.
"You mean it?", asked Owen tentatively.
"I wouldn't have said it otherwise, my boy.", said Oscar. "Now, you", he said to Owen "go upstairs. Take a hot shower and put on some pajamas. I actually have an old pair that belonged to your Uncle Lyle that would fit you. Then, you come and get some hot food into you." Owen smiled at Abby, then scurried off to the upstairs to do what his grandfather said. Oscar then turned his attention to Abby.
"As for you..Do you think you can heat a can of soup for Owen when he comes back down? There's some minestrone in the cupboard there. And I have some leftover spaghetti with meat sauce in the fridge if he wants something more. Think you can handle that?"
"Yes, I can manage."
"Good. I'm going to go and make up a bed for Owen in his uncle's old bedroom. Can I presume you'll need someplace really dark to sleep when the sun comes up?"
"Yes. But, for today, I'll make do with my trunk."
"That would be a help. I swear to God, if I didn't know better I'd think this to be a dream.", Oscar muttered half to himself and half to Abby. "I think I'm at the end of my energy for today. It's lambing season now. I actually spent most of the evening looking after some ewes that just gave birth. When I finished, I decided to watch The Public Enemy on television before I went to bed. It was just ending when you knocked on the door.."
"I saw that myself…back when it first came out in the theatre.", Abby said offhandedly, trying to sound casual about the fact that she'd seen James Cagney's breakout film role all the way back when it was released in 1931.
Oscar sighed to himself. He would have to get used to the fact that this girl had seen many of the things he'd seen in his younger days. At least, he mused, it might be interesting to have someone around here who appreciated the same old movies he did.
"So, you can take care of things if I go off to bed, after I take care of the room upstairs?"
"Don't worry. I'll be fine."
"Very well, goodnight.", Oscar said as he headed for the stairs.
An hour later, Owen was propped up on some pillows in his Uncle Lyle's old bed. He was feeling much better. Getting out of his wet and filthy clothes, a hot shower, some hot food and finally getting into a clean bed had all felt like amazing luxuries after three days and nights on the move; and that had followed three near sleepless nights induced by worries about Abby. This would be his first really good sleep in almost a week. He was still sneezing and feeling congested. However, he'd taken a decongestant and was certain that all he needed was to catch up on some food and rest, and he would be fine in two or three days. A knock at the door to his room broke him from his reverie.
"Can I come in?", asked Abby from the open door. She was dressed only in a very oversized t-shirt and her hair was wet from taking a shower of her own.
"Do you need to ask? You're living here as well now."
"Well, yes. But it is your room."
"Do you need an invitation then?"
"No. But, it IS only polite to ask.", Abby said with a relaxed smile.
"Well, yes Miss Manners. You, can come in anytime you want.". Owen laughed.
"Good. I plan to now. Besides, my trunk's in here.", Abby said with a grin as she sat cross-legged on the bed next to him as she nodded towards the steamer trunk now lying against the wall. Abby glanced at the open trunk and saw that Owen had actually placed a pillow inside of it for her as well as blanket to lie on. She smiled to herself at Owen's small but appreciated gesture towards her comfort. The trunk would be her daytime bedroom until they could find some permanent place that was dark and private. There was plenty of time to look into that in the coming days though. Right now, Abby was just glad their long journey had ended.
"That's fine by me. As much as I really did love lying next to you in there, I'm really glad to be in a bed again.", Owen said with a contented sigh as he snuggled back down under the covers.
"Well, I have to say that I did like sharing my bed with you on the train. Um…Do you mind if you share this bed with me until it's time for me to move into the trunk?"
"You actually have to ask?"
"I just didn't want to be presumptuous", Abby smiled.
"Abby…You're welcome anywhere I am, as far as I'm concerned.", Owen said with a smile.
"Oh good.", she replied. Then, in one smooth motion, she lifted the shirt off and over her head. Leaving it folded across the foot of the bed, she slid her now naked body under the covers with Owen. She looked over and saw that Owen's eyes were bulging out.
"Oh…I'm sorry Owen. Am I being gross?", she asked in a repeat of the question she'd asked him that night in Los Alamos when she'd also climbed nude into his bed when she just wanted to be close to him. "Do you want me to put the shirt back on?", she asked softly.
"No.", Owen said. He was little nervous, but definitely didn't want Abby to feel bad about what she was doing. And, he definitely did not want her to put her shirt back on. He was nervous, but not at all unhappy with what Abby did. "It's just like what you did back in Los Alamos. At least you're not freezing cold now.", he said with a smile.
"No, I'm glad not to be out there now.", she said as she looked towards the window where the sleet had turned again; only this time into heavy, wet snow.
"I'm glad we're here too.", Owen said as he reached over and caressed Abby's cheek. She leaned over and kissed him gently on the lips.
"Aren't you afraid of catching my cold?", Owen said jokingly, as he knew she was at no risk.
"I don't get sick like that. And frankly, even if I did...I would risk it.", she said as she kissed him again.
"Owen?", she asked a moment later.
"Yeah."
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"That night I came into your room, you could tell I was cold from being outside and I also didn't have anything on. How come you didn't well, try to look, or do anything? You didn't even ask what I was doing there."
"I think I was afraid."
"What were you afraid of?"
"I was afraid I'd wake up."
"What?"
"I thought at first it was a wonderful dream. You were in my bed…with me. I was afraid if I moved, or questioned it, or anything I'd wake up and it would all be over."
"Aw, Owen, you don't have to worry. Awake or asleep, I'll still be here.", she said as she took his hand and put it to her cheek. Her only answer was a gentle snore. She looked over and saw that Owen had given in to his exhaustion and had fallen asleep. Abby smiled and continued holding his hand to her cheek for the remaining hours until the advent of dawn necessitated her returning to her trunk.
December, 1983
That was how their arrival had been. They'd been still new to their relationship then. Now, of course, there was a great deal more comfort between them that had come with familiarity. They both soon came to love life on the ranch. Owen reconnected with his grandfather in the ensuing weeks. And Oscar soon found himself forgetting just what Abby was, as he got more and more used to her presence and he began to simply think of her as a surrogate granddaughter.
As well, their own relationship has progressed by leaps and bounds. The biggest step of all, of course, was what happened on that warm night in July; the night of Owen's thirteenth birthday. That was the night Owen and Abby made love for the first time. Since that night, their physical intimacy was only matched by their emotional intimacy. Sometimes, they felt so close they could almost sense what the other was thinking.
That's not to say, that there wasn't a playful element to their relationship. That element came into play very often: when they went for walks in the fields under the moonlight; when they camped on the roof of the snack bar at the local drive-in to watch a movie -it was the only way they could go to see a movie without risking Owen being spotted; when they went swimming; and, of course, when they were outside in the snow.
As they stepped back to admire their handiwork with the lights, Owen picked up a large clump of snow and tossed it into the air. In a perfect mortar shot, it looped up and came down on Abby's head. She half-grinned and half-glared at him as she realized another snowball fight had just been declared.
"So, you want to play, huh?", she said with an arched eyebrow
"Anytime, anywhere.", Owen laughed back as he hurled a snowball at her.
Of course, with her speed and strength, Abby had the definitive advantage in a snowball fight. Under her hands, it soon looked like a blizzard was coming in horizontally. Owen, knowing this, dodged underneath the barrage and closed on her. With Abby emitting a delighted squeal, Owen grabbed her and pinned her to the snowy ground.
"So", Abby said with mock disgust, "what are you going to do with me now?"
"This!", Owen said as he leaned down and kissed her.
"I see.", smiled Abby as the kiss broke. "You've finally admitted that you can never beat me in a snow war."
"Never!", Owen laughed. Swiftly, he pulled the tail of her shirt out of her jeans and threw handfuls of snow under her shirt and over her torso.
Abby just grinned at him with a malicious glee. "Oh Owen, you've forgotten one itsy, bitsy detail. The cold really doesn't bother me. But you, my love, on the other hand…", she said as she swiftly pulled the waistband of his jeans away from his body and, with an amazing swiftness, shoveled several handfuls of snow down the front of his pants.
Owen's face morphed from smug triumph to blind panic as he jumped up yelping and frantically tried to get the snow out of his underwear.
Abby sat up in the snow and sighed contentedly. She could say that she felt truly happy. She didn't have to hunt for food or harm people any longer. She had a safe and secure home where there was no longer a constant need to move. And, above all, she had Owen. She simply loved him more than anyone or anything else. In fact, she mused, one night this winter she might just let him win a snowball fight. But, as Owen hopped past her, trying to scoop the snow out of his crotch, she thought, or maybe not; winning against him was just too much fun.