This was a place where people should still feel safe, with the massive surrounding walls. Was she foolish, wanting to leave? She swallowed. If the Slains moved to Fort Robinson permanently, she would be better off elsewhere. Maybe here if she could bring Mira and Luna. She might have to be realistic about her chances of staying in Nebraska.
Cam backed his cart into a small metal storage shed where he parked. On the way out, he pressed a button, and the shed door rolled down with a clatter. He slung her backpack over one broad shoulder with an effortless motion. “You ready? Or do you want another minute above ground?” He seemed to understand her nervousness about the bunker without being offended. That was just him, accepting.
For a moment, she entertained the idea of living here with Cam. There was no forest inside the walls, no wild strawberry patches, no pond or stream, and nowhere she would feel free. xTerra was a temporary sanctuary, but she was glad she was leaving. Back to her house in the forest, her walled garden, and her cats. Back where she wouldn’t have to perform for anyone and could be herself.
Her stay in the hospital, with its constant motion and hubbub of activity, had left her exhausted. She couldn’t believe that once she’d faced something similar every day. If she stayed here, they would put her to work, and she’d have to go back to living behind a mask to cope.
Cam led the way to the bunker door, his footsteps muffled on the hard-packed earth. He punched in the code on a keypad, the numbers beeping in sequence. At her curious glance, he said, “You should know the code. It’s your birthday, day, month, and year. I reprogrammed it when I got back, because I wanted to be reminded of you all the time.” The tips of his ears turned pink.
He’d wanted to remember her. She stifled tears as once more her emotions threatened to overwhelm her. She breathed through it, and the moment passed.
He rotated a metal bar, and a thick steel door popped open with a sucking sound. Cam grabbed the handle and swung the door open. He reached inside to flick a switch, and the overhead lights turned on, illuminating the sloped entryway. She’d almost forgotten about such an old-world convenience as electricity, though the Medical Center had power. She glanced around, realizing the shed was covered in solar panels. Rows of them winked in the sunlight from the base of the nearest wall.
“After you.” Cam motioned her forward.
Lissa tried to see everything at once as she stepped past him into the hallway. His bunker felt warm compared to the cool spring temperature outside. She’d worried that the underground home would be dank, oppressive, and closed in. As she gazed around his place, it wasn’t. The faint whir of a fan in the ceiling circulated the air to keep it fresh, and it was well lit.
She nodded, and he fastened the door in place, then spun a wheel to lock it. She walked down the hall and peeked into the main living space. The layout inside was like a long, wide tunnel with a curved metal ceiling overhead. She passed closed doors on either side of the hall leading to the main living space. The arched ceiling continued along the entire length, like being inside half a large culvert pipe with a level floor. With the peak being close to ten feet above, the room felt larger than the area might indicate.
The living area was much bigger than her family room studio, with room to spread out. While plain, with little beyond basic furnishings, she could picture hanging artwork and adding throw pillows and afghans to brighten up the bland living room.
“Go ahead and snoop.” Cam stood in the hallway they’d just come through, opening the door on the left. He flicked on another light.
Lissa leaned in to find the laundry with a double sink, washer, and dryer—modern conveniences which seemed part of a different lifetime.
“Everything works,” he said, noting her interest. “Solar panels on the shed roof, plus the community has hundreds more making power for our grid and charging batteries for our vehicles.”
While she loved hanging her clothes to dry in the sunshine and fresh air during summer, a dryer would be convenient in the winter. Plus, a washer would save her hands from freezing. Most of the time she used cold wash water to save fuel.
Across the hall, Cam propped open the pantry, filled with floor to ceiling shelving holding large tins, jars of canned food, and various useful supplies. A gallon-sized can labelledChocolate Cake Mixcaught her eye. For all he’d admired her stock of dehydrated food, Cam was also well set.
Lissa wandered back down the hall. The kitchen included a stainless-steel fridge, stove, a microwave, and a double undermounted sink. A wooden table with four chairs and three bar stools were tucked beneath an island, separating the kitchen from the dining area. His spartan living room held only a couch, a padded chair, and a flatscreen TV mounted on the wall. The bones of a great place were there, and yet it seemed almost uninhabited. Where was his clutter? His books? A few dirty dishes. The things that said home.
“I love what you’ve done with the place.” She shot him a sidelong glance while she kept a straight face. His bunker could use color, personality.
Cam snorted. “Smart ass.” He broke out in a grin, his dimple appearing. Perhaps noting her interest in the TV, he said,“Would you like to watch a movie later? I have a DVD collection you can choose from. I like most anything.”
Of course he did. She nodded. “Where will I stay?”
He tossed his chin toward the other hallway. “The bedrooms are down there. You can choose.” He picked up her pack again and led the way, their footsteps silent on the tan carpet running the length of the hall.
She followed. He stopped at the first open doorway. Inside was a queen-size bed with a pale blue and white checked comforter, a four-drawer highboy dresser, and a bedside table with a reading lamp. He’d made more effort here than anywhere else to make his bunker welcoming. Perhaps he wanted her to sleep in her own room to start or at least give her the option. She observed his expression to determine his preference, finding it difficult to tell.
He set her pack on the floor and cleared his throat. “Or this one.” Next door was the same size, with an identical bed, and a red and white quilt. He’d straightened the bedding, but this room looked used, with the closet door ajar and a stack of three books below the reading light. In the corner, a black sock was draped over the side of a wicker laundry hamper. Two blue towels hung in the attached ensuite.
This was his room.
Her heart skipped a beat. This was more like it. Despite his declaration in the hospital, and his intention to return to Crawford, she wasn’t sure he’d wanted to jump into sharing a bed. They’d only slept together once. Her cheeks flamed. A moment of panic set in. “Which would you prefer?” She couldn’t look at him.
When he didn’t reply, she glanced up.
His expression remained neutral. “It’s up to you.” He might be disappointed if she chose poorly, but she worried about being crushed again if they didn’t work out. While he wasaccompanying her to Nebraska in a few weeks, they weren’t quite a couple. He’d been supportive, but they hadn’t kissed or done more than hold hands. Still, perhaps they had a future, and she should try to make it work.
She needed to make sure they were on the same page. She wanted to be with Cam.
Chapter 22: Cam
Cam tried not to be disappointed with Lissa’s slight hesitation about the sleeping arrangements in his bunker. He’d fantasized for months about being with her again, and at last she was here. He didn’t want just sex, but to live with her and be together. Back in Nebraska, he’d believed she was his person, his ride or die. He hoped she trusted that as long as she’d have him, he was hers. Still, life had taught him that action meant more than words. To fully regain her trust, he’d have to make up for his 4:00 a.m. flight last winter and demonstrate her importance.
