by N. C. Reed
“I'm sorry.”
Ronny Tillman looked up sharply at his wife as her quietly spoken words registered with him.
“What?”
“I said I'm sorry,” she repeated, her voice still somewhat subdued. Their children were still outside or else with their grandparents. They were alone for the time being.
“About what?” Ronny frowned. He didn't know when he had last heard those words from his wife of twenty years. Had he ever heard them? He wasn't sure suddenly.
“Everything,” she shrugged. “I have been a real bitch since even before all this started,” she waved her hands around them as she said 'this'. “Most of that was directed at Clay, but. . .I was unfair to him, too. Did you know that Abigail's rifle that she lost in town was used to kill Mister Barnes?”
“Yes,” he nodded slowly. “I did.”
“Why didn't you tell me?” she asked, rather than demand.
“You really haven't made yourself accessible to any kind of small talk of late, Alicia,” he reminded her. “I've been trying to just let things slide by and keep going.”
“I'm sorry for that too,” she nodded slowly. “It's funny,” she didn't laugh. “It's like I wanted to blame Clay because this was happening. Because he was the one who pointed it out. And for getting the kids involved, too. I held him responsible for an act of nature,” she did laugh this time, but bitterly rather than with any mirth. “I'd say that's about as unreasonable as it gets.
“I won't argue with you,” Ronny nodded.
“I owe pretty much everyone an apology for my behavior, but first and foremost to you,” she told her husband. “I've treated you so poorly and you haven't deserved any of it. You're been a wonderful husband for twenty years, and a wonderful father for sixteen of them. You're faithful and dependable and I am sorry, so very sorry if I ever for a minute took that for granted. And even more sorry for some of the things I've said to you of late, like staying out of my family's business. My God, Ronny, you are my family, you and the kids!” she finally broke, her hands covering her face as she sobbed into them. “I can't believe I said that to you!”
“Easy now,” Ronny was on his feet now, beside her. “Don't let this overwhelm you, Ally. We're all under a lot of strain so don't be too hard on yourself.”
“See,” she sobbed, looking up at him with tear reddened eyes. “Even now you're trying to help me. Make me feel better even after I've been such a bitch. You really are and have been a wonderful husband, Ronny Tillman. Thank you so much for putting up with me.” She fell into his arms at that and he embraced her, hugging her tightly as he rocked her gently back and forth.
Unlike the woman he had been living with for the last few months, this woman was the one he had married. The one that he had fallen in love with so many years ago. The one that had gradually changed into the woman that he had finally decided he could and would take no more from.
“Come on,” he told her gently. “It's getting dark and we're both tired. Everything is set for the night other than the kids and I suspect they're playing in the snow. Let's lay down and just cuddle up, okay? It 'll be warmer that way, and more comfortable.”
“Okay,” Alicia sobbed, nodding her head. “I'd like that.”
Without another word, the two headed for their bedroom and the sanctuary it provided.
-
Clay was awake far earlier than he wanted to be, but there was no help for it. Rising to a cold house he punched up the fire in the fireplace and added split wood to make it catch up faster. He checked his weather station, noting that the temperature outside was a balmy 11 degrees and shivered a bit as he pulled on a thick pair of sweat pants, a thin thermal shirt and thicker sweat shirt with a hood, followed by a pair of overalls and two pairs of socks. A cold weather rated military coat was the last thing, though he buckled a combat harness over that as well. Slinging his rifle, he stepped outside, grateful for the thermal mask he was wearing along with the rabbit fur 'flap cap' that protected the rest of his head.
It was still 'spitting' snow, as they called it, small random flakes here and yon, but by and large the snow had stopped for the moment at least. Without access to modern weather satellites they would have to just use guess work from now on to determine what the weather would do. For now, it seemed as if things had died off for a few moments however, so there was work to be done.
Attaching the small straight blade to the front of his side-by-side while the engine warmed, Clay was soon plowing his way down the drive way, moving the eight inches of snow and sleet that had fallen the night before. When he reached the road he turned and drove to the new cabins, clearing a path around the inside of them and back to the road. From there it was to the gate of the Troy farm where he scraped a path around the house and in front of each of the outbuildings, and then to the cut between there and the drive to the Sanders' homes.
As he started to plow around his parent's home he met Gordy, using his massive four-wheeler and blade to do the same thing. Both stopped for a moment, idling down to talk.
“Quite a storm looks like,” Gordy mentioned. “Good thing there wasn't much ice.”
“Yeah, we did okay considering,” Clay nodded. “You guys okay?”
“Looks like it,” Gordy nodded. “Mom's making Abby help with breakfast instead of being out here where she wants to be,” he cackled in laughter, sounding much like his great-grandfather Clay noted. “Sam is helping too, but she's a lot more happy about it. I don't think she wants to be outdoors anytime soon.”
“Can't blame her for that,” Clay nodded. “I'm surprised Abigail is listening to your mom, to be honest,” he added.
“She wants to live with Mom and Dad, she does what they say,” Gordy shrugged. “I guess she's not tired of living there yet,” he chuckled. “I don't think my folks are too happy with her attitude of late.”
“Causing you problems?” Clay asked.
“Nope,” Gordy shook his head. “I'm a good boy. Do what I'm told and always say yes ma'am or no ma'am as the situation demands. I keep my head down and my mouth shut so I'm in good shape.”
“Sorry it's like that,” Clay sympathized.
“Ah, it is what it is,” Gordy shrugged. “It's Abby's fault and the sooner she admits it and starts to straighten her act up, the better her life will be. She knows it, too. What she's waiting on I couldn't say.”
“Waiting for all of us to admit we're the ones in the wrong I imagine,” Clay replied. “Anyway, I got the other places covered. If you're doing here, I think I 'll go and get out of the cold for a bit. I been at it a while.”
“I'm about half done already so that's cool,” Gordy nodded. “Time I get done breakfast should be done,” he grinned maliciously. “Wouldn't miss it for the world.”
“You're gonna get your ass kicked you ain't careful,” Clay laughed.
“Nah, I'm a good boy,” Gordy winked as he restarted his four-wheeler. “See you later Uncle Clay.”
“You too, kid.”
-
Clay stored his rig but left the blade attached, assuming he would need it again sooner rather than later. When he stepped into the cabin he was immediately met by the warmth of the fire he had punched up before leaving, along with the smell of coffee and bacon.
“Morning Cowboy,” Lainie called from the kitchen. “Cold out there?”
After much thought and not a little soul searching Lainie had decided to try and pretend that nothing had happened the night before. To try and just get things back to normal and keep them there.
“Pretty cold,” Clay nodded as he shucked his boots off. Next came the coat and the overalls, both hung on pegs near the door. Lastly, he slipped out of the sweat shirt and hung it by the hood, leaving him in the sweat pants and thermal shirt.
“Well, breakfast will be ready in a few minutes,” she told him. “I made bacon and eggs and toasted some of that bread I made yesterday. And there's coffee of course,” she smiled.
“Okay,” he replied simply, his
face impassive. “Sounds good.”
Lainie turned back to the stove so he wouldn't see her frown. Her idea wasn't working so far.
-
“Well, things could be a lot worse,” Gordon sighed as he stood looking out the window. “We got a lot done before this hit.”
“It was going to snow sometime, dear,” Angela told him as she fixed a small breakfast for the two of them and Gregory Holloway.
“Oh, I know,” he nodded, joining her at the table. “And like I said, it could have been a lot worse. There's very little ice in this, just snow. And the snow will help make the ground more fertile come spring anyway. Not to mention the run off will help fill ponds and creeks.”
“All true,” Angela hummed.
“What's made you so happy and whimsical this morning?” Gordon asked, amused.
“No idea,” his wife of many years shrugged. “Just glad to be alive I suppose.”
“Not a bad reason at all,” he agreed. “Not at all.”
-
Well, you don't often see snow like this in South Texas,” Jody Thompson mused as he looked outside.
“Don't see it like this in Southern Arizona, either,” Jose Juarez agreed. “Still, I can't say it's all bad. Sure does make for a beautiful picture, don't it?”
“It is gorgeous,” Martina agreed quietly. “So pristine and lovely. Makes you forget for a little while that things are so bad, doesn't it?”
“I agree, mamacita,” he nodded. “For just a little while.”
“Things could be a lot worse,” Jody mentioned softly.
“Amen, brother,” Tandi Maseo agreed and he and Ellen entered the room, still sleepy looking. “Amen.”
“Wish Big Bear was here seeing this,” the medic continued wistfully after a few minutes.
“I can hear him now,” Juarez chuckled. “'I didn't lose nothing out there',” he mimicked their lost friend.
“Yeah,” Tandi smiled slightly. “That 'd be him okay.”
“Stop,” Martina scolded them. “Stop doing this to yourselves,” she ordered. “He would be angry with you for this and you know it. You must keep living.”
No one spoke for a minute or two but Juarez finally nodded.
“She's right,” he looked around. “For once,” he added with a wicked gleam in his eye. “Let’s go and have a good time,” he suggested suddenly. “There's a lot of kids here who have never seen snow like this. Wake 'em up and let’s show them what winter is like!”
Minutes later the house was bustling with activity as parents went to do just that.
-
Josh Webb and the others were doing the same thing. Everyone had turned out after breakfast that morning allowing younger children to play in the snow while their parents kept an eye out for trouble. For a little while everyone was able to forget about the strain their new way of life caused them as they frolicked and played in the snow. Parents laughed at children's antics and children tried to get parents involved in building snowmen, snow forts, snow anything they could think of.
Some of the older children slipped away into the woods around them, using the snow-covered landscape as a hunting tool. Single gunshots were heard across the next three hours signaling fresh game for their tables. Soon three deer were hanging from a newly constructed rack meant for just that purpose as hides were carefully removed from carcasses and the deer then carefully quartered before being moved into a box filled with snow. The meat would be left there over night, the icy water and a pinch of salt removing much of the 'gamey' taste the meat would have as freshly killed.
All over the property owned and operated by the Sanders' clan, people treated the day as a 'snow day'. Kids home from school, work places closed, everyone staying home. Home made treats were made, coffee and hot chocolate heated, bread baked and buttered for eating on the go. It was a fun time for everyone, with a few chores thrown in at times like refilling wood boxes and punching up fires.
The men that had once been part of CTG 31, Detachment “E”, manned the observation post in the cupola on two-hour shifts, their newest arrivals standing watch with them as they continued their training. Every so often someone would make a drive through in the side-by-side, usually accompanied by another of the 'recruits', making checks to see to it that all was well over the settlement. Waves were exchanged, brief conversations, but always brief, as they stayed on the move.
With the end of the day approaching the fun and games began to wind down. Once pristine fields of snow were now trampled and marked with foot prints, tire tracks and animal blood, depending on where you were looking. The smell of meat frying in cast iron pans met the nose at every compass point and mouths began to water as most everyone realized just how hungry they were.
“We're supposed to go down to the folks to eat,” Clay told Lainie as dusk approached. “We 'll take the rig since it will be well past dark before we come back.” Without waiting for her reply he had walked outside to start the machine so it would be warmed up. Lainie sighed as she donned her coat and put on her gloves.
All day things had been like this. It was as if Clay had shut himself off with a switch. There was nothing. No anger, no joy, no anything at all. Instead it was like he was on auto-pilot. Going through the motions of things he knew he had to do, or say, to get through the day. This was the second time he had been this way after she had spoke to him without thinking, and she wasn't sure that this time wasn't worse.
She had tried three times to approach him about the night before only to be rebuffed. The first two times he had politely but firmly informed her he didn't want to talk about it. The last time he had told her flatly 'don't bring it up again.'
She hadn't.
She had realized where she had gone wrong after considering what she had said, but knowing it in hindsight didn't really help her any. She had once again attached behavior to him based on something he said instead of something he had done. Where before she had questioned his sanity, this time she had essentially accused him of being well on his way to being an alcoholic.
Way to go, Lainie.
She climbed into the seat beside him in silence as he revved the engine and started them down the drive. There was no point in trying to talk over the noise of the side-by-side, which saved her from wondering what to say during the short ride.
Sometimes you had to be grateful for small favors.
-
The outdoor kitchen was pleasantly warm thanks to the Cherokee oven and the wood cook stove, and the family gathered around for a truly wonderful meal.
“Mom this is great,” Robert told her. “What made you do this on a day like today?”
“I didn't cook this,” Angela smiled at her oldest son. “I merely assisted. And it wasn't my idea, either. Alicia?” she looked at her daughter, who stood.
“I did it,” she said simply. “I wanted to apologize to you all,” she continued, her back straight and her eyes open, looking at each of them in turn. “I've . . . I have been horrible to all of you in one way or another in the past months, and I am truly sorry. I could say it was strain and stress, I guess, or blame it on my getting to that age or whatever, but. . .I still did it, no matter what the reason. Clayton, you I have wronged most of all other than Ronny,” she squeezed her husband's hand and no one missed the beaming look on Ronny Tillman's face. “And I am truly sorry,” Alicia continued. “To all of you.”
“Well I bet that hurt to say,” Leon spoke first.
“Except for you, Old Man,” Alicia grinned at her grandfather. “You I've said very little to that I didn't mean.” Laughter erupted around the table at that, no one laughing harder than Leon. He was in fact the first one to get to his feet and move to where his granddaughter was standing, embracing her warmly.
“Love you, Ally Cat,” he said simply before returning to his seat. Alicia's blush showed her pleasure at hearing those words as she sat back down.
“Well, Alicia, this was great,” Robert gave her the same compliment. “Any time you wa
nt to apologize like this again is fine by me.” When Alicia threw a balled-up napkin at him he just laughed.
“You cook almost as good as Mom,” Clay told her, raising his glass in salute. “And I have to agree with Robert.” Alicia's blush worsened at the compliment but her smile was bright as she looked at her younger brother.
“Thank you,” she said simply.
Talk then turned to other things as they enjoyed the rest of the meal. Whether it would snow more or lighten up for a while. How the cattle had made out. The huge doe that one of the Webb boys had taken earlier in the day. The massive snowman that the twins, Janice Hardy, Samantha Walters and the youngest Webb son had erected in front of the yard the Sanders all shared. Gordy had piled snow up for them using his four-wheeler and had laughed at their antics while they worked. None of them realized that what he had really been doing was standing guard, but that was fine. He hadn't meant for them to know.
Lainie stood and began gathering empty dishes before anyone else, moving to the sink where water was already heated by the cook stove.
“Lainie you don't have to do that,” Alicia told her.
“Non-sense,” Lainie scoffed, laughing. “It was a wonderful meal and I didn't help cook or set the table so the least I can do is help clean up.”
“I 'll help too,” Janice said at once, already grabbing empty plates and glasses that were no longer in use.
“Me too,” Samantha Walters agreed. Soon a chain was formed as dishes and cook vessels were being washed, dried and put away. By the time they were finished the kitchen was as clean as it had been before cooking had started.
“Time for us to head home,” Robert announced, getting to his feet. “It has been along day. Ally, that really was great cooking,” he smiled again at his sister.
“Thanks,” she smiled in return. Robert and Patricia headed out after that.
“Thanks for the help guys,” Alicia told the others as they finished. “I really appreciate it.”
“Hey, so do we,” Lainie smiled at her. “That was great!”
“Sure was,” Janice agreed and Samantha nodded as well.
“I think we 'll head home as well,” Alicia said, looking at Ronny, who nodded. “The kids are staying over with the Troy farm tonight if you guys get to looking for them,” she added. “They've got some kind of game going over there,” she shrugged.