Max sat in the well-worn green chair with a book in his hand, but his thoughts refused to focus on the lawyer trying to keep the little kid safe.

It was quarter after seven, right? Not quarter 'til?

They better have gotten the private car situated.

I wonder what Harriet thought when I told her not to call me tonight.

Two new breaches. Two! How many centuries since there had been two? Thank God they're both in fairly unpopulated areas.

It was definitely quarter after because the train leaves at 7:30. They wouldn't want us to sit there for the better part of an hour.

Whatever Delwyn told the council, it had been enough for them to let her remain with Lily. What did she tell them?

Who came up with the asinine idea of neckties anyway?

"Max?"

His attention snapped to the vision of beauty leaning against the doorframe. The silver dress left her strong arms bare and skimmed her knees. A black choker circled her long neck drawing his attention there and instilling a desire to skip dinner and spend the evening kissing that soft skin. Her lips curved up.

"You were a million miles away. Good book?" She asked.

Book? He glanced down. Oh. That book. Setting it on the table he stood and crossed to the doorway. With feather-light fingertips, he traced the line of her collarbone. "We could stay in."

She stepped backward, latching onto his fingertips and pulling him toward the door. "No way, mister. I was promised a real date. I'm holding you to it."

They climbed into the truck and bounced along the road next to the river. The leaves and thick growth hovered in between the emerald green of summer's vigor and the shocking explosion of color they'd soon offer up as fall's final farewell. A groundhog, fat on ripe seeds and veggies stolen from some farm-wife's garden waddled into the undergrowth and out of sight. The low-slung sun painted the waving sea of grain with a heavy golden brush.

On the radio, The Zombies sang about the time of the season for loving. Max hummed along. At the chorus, he cast a sideways glance at Lily. "What's your name? Who's your daddy?" He waggled his eyebrows and she laughed her enchanting laugh.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going?"

"No." He snagged the fingers of her right hand and brought it to his lips, kissing each fingertip with deliberate care.

"You're going to have to tell me at some point since I'm driving."

"You're going the right direction. I'll let you know when you need to turn." His kisses moved to the back of her palm, the delicate skin on the inside of her wrist.

"I'm going to crash if you don't stop."

"I don't believe you. You've got excellent focus. You'll be fine," he said, but he released her so she could have both hands to make the final serpentine series of curves that welcomed them into the village. "Turn right at the stop sign."

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"What? You wanted to know which way to go."

"Everything is to the left."

"If that were the case there would be no road going to the right," he pointed out.

"Nonsense," she argued. "There are roads that lead to nowhere."

"Nope. All roads lead to God."

She slowed to a stop at the intersection, waited for three kids on bikes to pass by, and turned. "Surely, not all roads," she said, once they were rolling again.

"Left at the next road," he said.

"Are you taking me to somebody's house?"

"Nope." He pulled the visor down and adjusted his tie. Were they supposed to be so tight? "Anyway, all roads lead to God. It's inevitable. If God is in everything, then how can you go anywhere, even if it's nowhere, and not be in His presence?"

She shook her head. "If never known anyone who believes as certainly as you, Max."

He grudgingly accepted the inevitability of being half strangled until they got home again and folded the visor back up. "Oh, I believe."

"But you don't want to go to church. That's so weird to me."

She'd asked more than once about attending worship at one of the little local churches. His answer was always the same--he had no problem with it if that's what she wanted, but it wasn't for him. The part he didn't tell her was that he couldn't settle down in church, surrounded by crosses and incense and stained glass windows. Truth be told, they awakened something in him akin to fear, though he couldn't give a good reason why. "I'm a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma, deep fried in bacon grease," he answered her now. The familiar pit in his stomach he always got inside churches was opening and he didn't want to think about it.

"Bacon grease, eh?"

"Everybody loves bacon." He pointed at an upcoming intersection. "Turn there."

She turned and the little wooden train depot came into view. A tiny-two room building, grey with scarlet trim, sporting a wooden deck all the way around, it had stood in that spot long enough to witness the taming of America's Great Black Swamp into some of the most productive farmland in the world. Behind the depot, a row of five matching passenger cars nestled between an enormous black and yellow diesel engine and a classic red caboose.

Lily gasped. "I forgot about this!"

Max grinned at the bright excitement in her eyes. "A good choice then?"

"The dinner train? Of course, it's a good choice! I've been wanting to do this since I found out about it. How'd you even get tickets? Someone told me they sell out a year in advance."

"Oh, I have connections," he said adjusting his cuffs, James Bond style.

"Oh, geez. You didn't threaten to kill someone or something, did you?"

Not kill, exactly. He shrugged. "Anything for my wife."

She laughed again and he adored the easy freedom of it. With her, there was no specter of impending doom, no eternal cycle of duty and death, only life and vitality and joy.

They made their way across the gravel parking lot and onto the platform. A set of stairs led from the platform to the train. A demon of the outer realm stood at the bottom, dressed in a navy-blue conductor's uniform complete with cap and gloves, greeting guests as they arrived. He smiled at them. It came out looking like the grimace that would result if a raccoon bit him on the backside.

"Mr. and Mrs. Metit, welcome to The Dinner Train, and happy anniversary."

Lily looked at Max. "Anniversary?"

He pretended to be appalled. "You mean you forgot?"

"Forgot several months, apparently."

"Six months, my love."

She cocked her head. "You did all this for our six month anniversary?"

"I will do this and more to celebrate every day I get with you," he promised.

The demon looked like he was about to be sick. He forced another horrific approximation of a smile. "I hope everything is to your liking."

"I hope so, too," Max said holding his gaze. He'd threatened all the retaliation of the Heavenly Host and instant banishment to the eternal lake of fire in order to get things done the way he wanted that evening.

"The table you requested has been prepared."

Max nodded and held out an arm to Lily. "Shall we?"

They walked the length of the first car, traversing the narrow center aisle between tables already growing crowded. At the back of the car, they crossed a little metal bridge. The second car was the same as the first. They continued on to the third. Finally, Max led his wife into the caboose. Her soft gasp told him all he needed to know. Maybe he was new at this romance thing, but he'd done something right.

The single booth, tucked in a corner to their right, was set with white linen and sparkling crystal. A votive flickered in its heavy cut-glass holder, adding its dancing light to the soft glow of the twinkling white lights strung overhead. The gift he purchased for her, wrapped in light blue with a white satin ribbon, held a place of honor on the table.

"Max, this is amazing!" She slid into the booth, beaming.

"See?" He teased, "I can plan a real date."

"So far so good," she agreed.

He gestured to the box. "You should open it."

She bit her bottom lip.

He promised himself he'd take a little nibble later, too.

"Go on, then."

With maddening care, she untied the bow and worked a finger under the taped edges until the little black velvet box was exposed. Her eyes flicked to his and then she lifted the lid.

"Oh, Max!"

He took the box from her hand, removed the diamond solitaire, and slipped it onto the third finger of her left hand. "I'm sorry it was six months late."

Tears sparkled in her eyes. "It's beautiful."

"Thank you for marrying me, Lily. You are honestly the best thing that has ever happened to me."

She wiped her cheek and held up her water glass. "Here's to a lifetime of good things happening followed by an eternity together."

He swallowed the painful lump in his throat and touched his glass to hers. "From your lips to God's ears."