by Kristie Cook
Jonathan tried to slip the spatula under an egg, but the blade didn’t have any give. He’d never thought about spatula design, but there was a huge difference between this one and the teflon coated utensils in his kitchen back home. He ended up breaking every one of the yolks but River didn’t complain. She carried the platter to the aspen-log table and nodded at a chair. “Have a seat.”
“Aren’t you going to join me?” There were five eggs on the plate. No toast, no bacon, no orange juice, no milk—just eggs.
“I ate an hour ago.” River smirked at him. “We all did.”
“Why didn’t someone come wake me up?”
River sat down across from him, put an elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand. “Eli wanted to, but I told him to leave you alone.”
“Eli? What’s he doing here?”
“He’s supposed to help out until the quarantine’s over and Reuben’s ranch hands can come back.”
“Great.” Jonathan shoveled a fork full of eggs into his mouth. They burned his tongue, but it was worth it.
“Just stay out of his way.”
“Where’s he sleeping?”
“At his mother’s cabin.” River rolled her eyes. “It’s only about a fifteen minute ride, but you should have heard him whining about how cold it was. I have no idea how he managed to become an enforcer.”
“Gabriel mentioned that Eli was politically connected. Maybe someone pulled some strings to get him in.”
The front door swung open and banged against the side of the house. A dark-haired, rosy-cheeked little boy ran inside.
“Hey!” River stood up and pointed at his feet. “Boots off.”
The kid hopped on one foot then the other, but made no move to remove his boots. “Is that him?”
“We won’t have any servants until the quarantine’s over.” River knelt in front of him and untied his boots. “I’m not mopping this floor.”
The kid stepped on the heel of one boot and pulled his foot out then kicked off the other one, sending it flying.
“Paul!” River grabbed his arms.
He ducked his chin but kept his gaze locked on River’s. It reminded Jonathan of how a dog acts when scolded.
River didn’t let go of him until he lowered his gaze to the floor.
As soon as he was free, Paul darted around River and ran straight to Jonathan. He skidded to a stop then put his hands on his hips and narrowed his eyes as he examined Jonathan from head to toe. “So, that’s what an outsider looks like.”
“Oh shit!” Jonathan scooted away from the table, backing away from Paul. “I’m still under quarantine.”
“We all are.” Reuben came in and shut the door behind him. “But don’t worry about it. You aren’t infected. Shula is just using the quarantine to manipulate everyone.”
Jonathan heaved a sigh of relief but kept his distance. “What about River’s fever? She’s healthy now, but she was really sick for about twelve hours.”
Reuben smiled. “River’s not contagious.”
Paul folded his arms across his chest. “River’s recruit said a bad word.”
“I heard.”
Jonathan’s heartbeat doubled.
“Are you going to whip him?”
Reuben leveled his gaze at Jonathan. “Not this time.”
Holy shit! Jonathan needed to clean up his language. He’d managed to keep from swearing around Mom and Dad even after he’d developed the habit around his friends; but army life had pretty much destroyed that filter. It’d be easier to just quit swearing all together than to stay on guard around Reuben.
River grabbed Jonathan’s shoulders and gave him a gentle push towards the hall. “Go get your parka, boots and gloves. I need to teach you how to do your chores.”
Paul followed River and Jonathan outside and ran circles around them like a hyper-active golden retriever.
River pointed at a pile of wood behind the house. “You already know how to chop wood, so that’s one of your chores.”
“How often?”
“Just be sure the wood box is full every night before you come in for supper. We only use wood for cooking so it shouldn’t be too hard.”
“Gabriel told me about the geothermal heating system Reuben engineered. I’m really impressed.”
“Reuben grew up inside Sanctuary Mountain, so he understands how these things work.” River didn’t cringe, gasp or slap her hand over her mouth.
“Is it okay to tell me about Sanctuary Mountain now?”
She tilted her head to the side and looked up for a moment, then leveled her gaze at Jonathan. “There are two separate societies that make up New Eden. The people that live inside Sanctuary Mountain are pampered. They have access to medicine and doctors that are brought in from the outside world.”
“Wait a minute.” Jonathan grabbed River’s forearm and turned her to face him. “What do you mean ‘brought in’ from the outside world? Do these doctors come willingly?”
“Some of them.” River ducked her head, turning it sideways, away from Jonathan. She took a quick gulp of air then continued, talking faster. “The surface dwellers live simpler lives. We aren’t allowed to use anything we can’t manufacture ourselves.”
“Is that why you had me leave all my sh … uh … stuff back at that shack.”
“Yes.”
“Were you already plotting to keep me from leaving?”
River’s eyes widened as her cheeks flamed red.
Busted.
“It was just a precaution. One that proved necessary. If Eli had found your bright red underwear, he never would have believed that I was recruiting you.”
Jonathan regretted sidetracking the discussion. He needed to learn more about how New Eden worked if he wanted to escape it. “So, the people that don’t live on the surface …”
“The heirs of Sanctuary?”
“Where do they live?”
“Inside Sanctuary Mountain.”
Jonathan wanted to ask her where Sanctuary was, but he needed to keep things conversational. She’d clam up if she realized he was interrogating her. “That can’t be much fun. How many people do have they have crammed inside the mountain?”
“About four hundred. It doesn’t sound like fun to me either, but the people that live there think it’s a great privilege. They look down their noses at the rest of us. Eli is an heir of Sanctuary.”
“Really? What’s he doing out here with us? Slumming it?”
“He’s an enforcer. By law, half of all enforcers serving on the surface have to be heirs of Sanctuary. Eli got stuck with surface duty this winter.”
“Are these heirs of Sanctuary the people that make all the rules?”
River nodded. “They’d never survive without us. We provide all their food. They provide all the laws.”
“Why do you guys put up with their tyranny? Do they out number you or have superior weapons?”
“Both.” River shot him a warning glance then tilted her head towards Paul. “Everyone else is going to be finished with morning chores before we even begin.”
In addition to chopping wood, Jonathan was responsible for taking care of Hot Sauce, cleaning out his stall, making sure he had plenty of water and hay, and exercising him for two hours every day. He was also supposed to help Paul clean the chicken coop and gather eggs twice a day. River left them to go do her own chores. Jonathan didn’t blame her. The smell of chicken shit made him gag but Paul promised him he’d get used to it. When they were done, Jonathan squatted down and told Paul to climb on. It was a bit of a hike back to the house and he was starving again.
“River mentioned something about servants earlier. Don’t they usually do the gross stuff?”
“Servants only work in the house.” Paul clung to Jonathan’s back like a monkey. “River’s not very good at women’s work, so Pa bought a couple of servants after Momma died.”
Jonathan arched his eyebrows. “You mean hired, right? Your dad pays the servants to work for him.
Doesn’t he?”
“Pa feeds them and let’s them sleep in the bunk house. Why should he pay them?”
“Holy shit.”
Paul slapped his hand over Jonathan’s mouth. “Pa’ll wash your mouth out with soap and if that don’t work, he’ll tan your hide with his belt.”
Jonathan lifted his chin, freeing his mouth from Paul’s dirty fingers. He probably should wash his mouth out with soap to keep from getting salmonella. “I’ll keep that in mind. Swearing is a bad habit. It’s hard to stop once you start, so don’t ever start.”
“Pa says only ignorant sons a bitches use swear words.”
Jonathan’s shoulders shook as he tried to keep from laughing.
***
Paul went down for a nap after lunch. Jonathan, River and Gabriel went for an hour long ride—which was all Jonathan’s butt could handle after the marathon ride from the quarantine cabin to the ranch. When they returned, they found Eli in the stable, mucking out Red’s stall. It was the first time Jonathan had seen him doing any sort of manual labor. He deserved a medal for resisting the urge to point that out.
The short horseback ride meant they had several hours of free time before supper. “What do you guys do around here for fun?”
“Once chores are done, we can do whatever we want—as long as it’s legal.” Gabriel wiped the tines of the pitchfork he’d been using with a wad of straw. “Do you wanna wrestle?”
Jonathan grinned at him. “You didn’t get enough yesterday?”
“Nope. Meet me in the hay barn when you’re done with stable chores.”
Eli stepped out of Red’s stall. “I want the first round. If he’s still standing when I’m done, you can go a round with him.”
River marched over to Eli and poked his chest with her finger. “Gabriel and I both heard you make the challenge. You can’t punish Jonathan after he beats the living daylights out of you.”
Eli knocked her hand away from his chest. “He’s not going to beat me.”
The hay barn wasn’t the safest place to spar—the frozen ground was hard as concrete and half a dozen antique farm implements hung from hooks on each wall. But according to Gabriel, that’s where everyone gathered for entertainment. Everything from good-natured wrestling matches to full-on fistfights to dances took place in the hay barn. Until Shula lifted quarantine, entertainment was going to be hard to come by.
River grabbed Jonathan’s elbow and pulled him closer. “Take your time grooming Saucy. I’m going to go find Reuben so he can witness the challenge. I don’t trust Eli.”
“All right. I’ll meet you in the hay barn in about ten minutes.”
When Jonathan opened the door, River, Gabriel and Paul were sitting in the loft. Eli was leaning against a wall with his arms folded across his chest.
“Where’s Reuben?”
River shook her head. “I couldn’t find him.”
Eli shrugged off his coat, vest and shirt then cracked his knuckles. “What’s the matter, outsider? Afraid to face me?”
Jonathan ignored Eli and looked up at River. “You’re my sponsor. What should I do?”
River’s legs hung over the edge of the loft. She swung them back and forth then put her elbows on her knees and leaned forward. “Gabriel, Paul and I are witnesses.” She glared at Eli. “State the challenge again, releasing Jonathan from any fault should this match cause you harm.”
Eli harrumphed and rolled his eyes. “I, Eli, son of Zebulon’s daughter, do hereby challenge the recruit, Jonathan, to a test of strength and skill. I release him from any responsibility in the unlikely event that he causes me bodily harm. The last man standing wins. Do you accept the challenge?”
“I accept.” Jonathan removed everything from his upper body, except the gold chain around his neck. Damn, it was cold in there. Reuben must not have thought it was important to heat the hay barn. Jonathan bounced on his toes, shaking out his arms.
Eli curled his lips. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Warming up. You should at least stretch out a little before we get started.”
Eli snorted. “I’ve never been in a fight where my opponent gave me any warning before attacking, much less time to prance around like a ballerina.”
Paul giggled. Gabriel laughed. River clapped both hands over her mouth, but her eyes crinkled at the corners.
Jonathan turned away from the loft, faced Eli and bowed. That common courtesy earned him another round of laughter, sending a flush of heat across his cheeks. Well, let’s see who’s laughing when this is over.
Jonathan grinned and cocked his head to the side, inviting Eli to throw the first punch.
Eli drew his arm back then threw a right hook.
Jonathan took a half-step back, blocked the incoming blow with a downward thrust of his left forearm then immediately stepped forward and smacked Eli’s cheek with an open palm. He could have ended the fight if he’d countered with a right jab to the temple, but where’s the fun in that?
Eli glared at Jonathan as he pressed his palm against his cheek, leaving his entire body exposed.
Jonathan tapped his other cheek and laughed. “Come on. What are you waiting for?”
Eli threw a combination left jab, right cross that Jonathan easily dodged and blocked. He followed up with more open palmed slaps to Eli’s face, head and body. Eli started sweating after about five minutes. He dropped his hands to his knees and gasped for breath.
Jonathan grinned at him. “Had enough?”
Eli didn’t say, “yes,” nod his head, or otherwise indicate the match was over, but he did stand up without raising his guard.
Jonathan reached out to shake his hand but as soon as he did, Eli threw a right jab. Jonathan didn’t have time to block it or dodge it completely. He ducked just enough that Eli’s fist glanced off his cheek instead of popping him in the nose.
Gabriel yelled, “That was a cheap shot, Eli.” River and Paul murmured their assent.
Eli’s face was beet red. It could have been from anger, but Jonathan suspected that humiliation was at least partly to blame. Getting slapped repeatedly without landing a solid punch made Eli look like a fool. But it also made Jonathan feel like a bully.
He stopped playing and started fighting. Jonathan delivered a back roundhouse kick into Eli’s solar plexus. He knew from experience that the pain from the blow, combined with the inability to breathe, made you feel as if you were dying.
Eli’s eyes widened as he tried in vain to draw a breath.
Jonathan took the opportunity to sneak a peek at River. Her eyes sparkled as she smiled at him. He wished he had his bo staff. He was skilled with hand to hand combat, but his true talent shone when he had a weapon in his hand. Jonathan had always enjoyed the thrill of competing in front of a cheering crowd, but the thrill of showing off in front of River was an even bigger rush.
He waited for Eli to broadcast his next move, avoided the clumsy kick then threw a back tuck instead of a counter attack. The gasp of surprise from the loft sent a wave of pleasure through Jonathan.
The look of shock on Eli’s face was priceless. “What the hell was that all about?”
“In a competition you get extra points for good tumbling skills.”
“Would you do that in a real fight?” Eli was still looking down his nose at Jonathan, but it was a valid question.
“No. But it’s fun. You should try it.”
Eli laughed. “Yeah, right. You just want me to break my neck.”
Jonathan wouldn’t mind watching Eli plant his face in the dirt.
“It’s not hard … unless your stomach muscles are too weak.” Jonathan flexed, showing off his six-pack abs.
Eli’s eyes narrowed into slits. He roared like an angry bull and charged.
Jonathan couldn’t resist. He stepped to the side, spun halfway around and landed a solid sidekick in the middle of Eli’s butt, sending him flying, face first, into the haystack.
River jumped from the loft, into the hay, rolled over
Eli, and landed on her feet. She took Jonathan’s wrist and raised his hand over his head. “Jonathan is the last man standing. He wins!”
Eli dug himself out of the haystack and pointed his finger at River. “You’re biased.”
River looked into the loft. “Gabriel, who won?”
“Well …” He paused and rubbed the back of his neck. “Eli’s feet were off the ground for more than ten seconds.”
Paul clapped his hands and chanted, “Eli lost! Eli lost!” then jumped out of the loft. He tumbled down the haystack, head over heels, landing in a jumbled mess at River and Jonathan’s feet.
Eli’s shoulders slumped as he stared at Paul. He closed his eyes for a moment then opened them and glared at Jonathan. The expression on his face could only be described as murderous. He brushed the hay off his clothes then slammed Jonathan’s shoulder with his as he stomped out of the barn.
Paul grabbed Jonathan’s hand and tugged. “I wanna learn how to do that flippy thing.”
“Tell you what Paul, I’ll teach you how to do a back tuck if you teach me how to do what you just did.”
The little boy’s eyes lit up. “Really? Gosh that’s easy! All you gots to do is be sure there’s plenty of hay and nothing in it, like a pitchfork or a hoe, then jump.”
Gabriel called down from his seat in the loft. “I wouldn’t mind finding a ho in the haystack.”
River covered Paul’s ears and laughed. “You’re too young for whores.”
Jonathan grinned. “What about me? Am I too young?”
River’s smile disappeared. “You’ll have to wait until quarantine’s over.”
“I was just kidding. You know that, right?”
River shrugged her shoulders. “If you need to use a whore, talk to Reuben. Or Eli. I’m not sure how to arrange it.”
“I’d never use a prostitute!”
River tousled Paul’s hair then jogged towards the ladder. “Last one up is a rotten egg.”
“No fair!” Paul darted off after her, but River scampered up ahead of him. She leapt out of the loft, tucked her knees into her chest and landed on her back, sending a cloud of dust and hay into the air. She stretched out and log-rolled down the haystack, giggling and sneezing. She had so much hay sticking out of her braided hair she looked like a scarecrow.