by Nathan Jones
Lewis wasn't the only one paying attention to the two. As he and Jane watched from the sidelines Hailey, the goat expert they'd invited into town, sidled up beside him. “So your brother and that girl,” she said out of the blue, “are they dating?”
Blinking, he glanced over at her. “Um that's my cousin, actually. And not really, but they're getting there.”
“Oh.” The girl looked embarrassed. “The way you two are around each other, I just figured . . .” She shrugged. “I guess “getting there” means he's not available. Too bad.” She glanced around. “Any other suggestions for a partner? I love dancing.”
Lewis shared a somewhat amused look with Jane. Personally he was content to watch from the sidelines, since he'd never been a fan of dancing. And he knew Jane absolutely loathed it. Not the dancing itself; as far as he knew it was practically human nature that music encouraged people to want to move along with it. But she didn't like the spontaneity and uninhibitedness it required to do in front of other people, and didn't even want to make the effort. So it was hard to imagine going up to a near stranger to ask for a dance partner introduction.
Still, in the week Lewis had known Hailey, working with her a little with the town's animals, he'd found her to be a sweet, lovely girl. If she wanted to be steered towards a good match he was happy to oblige.
“Come on,” he told her. “Let me introduce you to my friend Raul.”
Jane didn't mind taking over snapping photos with Lewis's camera while he led Hailey through the crowd, over to where Gutierrez was standing off a bit by himself. The former soldier was also intent on the dancing, although he didn't seem as content about being on the sidelines as Lewis was.
“Raul!” he said, clapping his friend on the shoulder to get his attention. “Have you met Hailey Nelson yet?”
Gutierrez looked over, and a bit of his sour mood faded away. “I think we said hello back when she first arrived,” he said, offering his hand. Hailey shook it without a trace of shyness.
“Well I seem to remember you're a pretty good dancer, and Hailey was hoping to get out on the floor.”
His friend finally smiled tentatively. “Sure.” He offered the girl his arm, and she happily allowed herself to be led out into the press.
Lewis was fairly satisfied with the introduction, but as he was circling his way back around to Jane Linda caught him. “Smooth matchmaking, cuz,” she said with a grin.
He shrugged sheepishly. “She was looking for someone to dance with.”
“You do know the reason Raul was standing there was because he was waiting for Mary to finish this song so he could cut in, right?”
Lewis blinked. “What?”
His cousin rolled her eyes. “Oh come on. You haven't noticed the guy has a serious crush on your sister? He keeps on trying to work up the nerve to talk to her.” She suddenly smiled mischievously. “Oh. Or is that why you steered Hailey his way?”
He looked at her in befuddlement. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”
Linda rolled her eyes again and grabbed his arm. “Well come on. I know Jane doesn't want to dance, and Wes and Alvin keep sidling up trying to find an opportunity to ask me. Be my knight in shining armor and take me through a few waltzes so I don't have to be a heartbreaker.”
Lewis allowed himself to be led onto the dance floor, shaking his head slightly in disbelief at his cousin.
Gutierrez was interested in Mary, huh? He didn't exactly have a problem with that, although the fact that the man had been in a relationship with Mandy Townsend wasn't exactly a mark in his favor. At the same time Sam's description of the way Gutierrez had broken up with that toxic troublemaker definitely made it easier to like him.
Besides, since the former soldier had defected from the raiders and joined the town's defenders, then the volunteers, he'd become one of Lewis's closest and most trusted friends.
Still, brotherly protectiveness and all. Especially where Mary was concerned, with her painful shyness. Lewis wasn't about to get in a chest beating competition or anything, but he'd be on the fence about whether this was a good thing or not until he saw how his sister felt about it.
Until then it looked as if he'd been dragged into dancing with his cousin to dash the dreams of two fine young men. Happy as he was for Rick and Alice, this was exactly why he hated parties.
Maybe he didn't regret the way he'd married Jane after all.
* * * * *
Trev bit back a yawn as he helped Mary move the fences of the shelter group's animal pen to a new grazing location, the sheep still ambling around inside while patiently moving along with the light but sturdy barriers in a chorus of baas.
The sun was just rising over the ridge of the canyon's eastern slope, but although he'd slept later than usual this morning and had done almost no work yesterday thanks to Rick and Alice's wedding, he still felt exhausted.
Deb had interrupted his sleep again last night to sit with her. It had come as a bit of a surprise, considering how well things had seemed to be going at the celebration yesterday. But he supposed you never really could tell. Shivering in the cold, wanting to help her but not really knowing how or even if he could, he'd suggested she talk to someone, some sort of counseling. Only he wasn't sure who in town could help with that, and had no answer when she'd challenged him about it.
It was kind of a shame that with all the professionals they'd invited in, they hadn't thought to include a therapist who specialized in traumatic events. He supposed the committee's thought process was that with so many immediate physical needs, any mental and emotional issues had to go on the back burner.
But at the same time there were a lot of people in town who'd suffered terrible loss or been through horrific hardship since the Gulf burned. A lot of people burying issues or handling them as best they could as they struggled to go about their daily lives.
Trev woke up from nightmares himself after his time fighting the blockheads, and still found himself flinching for cover and going for his gun at sudden loud noises. To be honest being woken up in the night, even gently, was something he could do without. It always came with a surge of heart-pounding adrenaline as he went from a safe, relaxed state to ready to fight for his life in an instant.
“I think that's far enough, Trev,” Mary said. She'd already let go of her corner of the enclosure.
Trev jumped slightly and looked, and sure enough he'd dragged the pen a good ten feet farther than he'd needed to. “Whoops.”
His cousin gave him a concerned look. “Is there, um, that is, are you . . .” she trailed off awkwardly. Then, before she could think of a way to say whatever it was, she looked past him and abruptly flushed slightly and began humming.
Trev turned around and was relieved to see Gutierrez approaching, putting an end to any awkward conversation about how he was doing. “Morning, Raul,” he called.
“Hey Trev,” his friend answered, quickening his step to join them. He glanced at Mary and assumed the sort of stiff casualness that even an idiot could recognize. “Hey Mary,” he continued in a subtly different tone. Then he gave Trev a friendly nod that seemed to say, 'Good to see you, man. Can I get some space here?'
“Oh hi, Raul,” the blond young woman said, looking flustered as she hastily brushed dirt that wasn't there off her shirt and pants.
Trev bit back a smile as he moved over to pick up the animals' water buckets to refill. As he did he watched the awkward tableau unfold as the two fumbled their way through a conversation without being too obvious that they were interested in each other.
Gutierrez did his best to look relaxed and confident as he searched around for suave things to talk about, obviously picking up on Mary's social awkwardness that wasn't doing his own nervousness any favors. For her part Mary was blushing and kept breaking into humming songs that were generally romantic, between shy responses.
Trev didn't know whether to think the exchange was adorable or cringe his way right down to the center of the earth at being witness
to it. “Hey, I'm going to go grab some water,” he said. He wasn't sure if they responded as he made a beeline for the stream running through the canyon.
Mary and Gutierrez, huh? They could be good for each other, between her gentle nature and his competence and unwavering loyalty. Assuming they could get past awkward pleasantries.
Of course, judging by Robert's obvious interest in Mary at the wedding reception last night, Gutierrez was going to have to hurry things up if he didn't want competition. Then again, that might explain why he'd popped in to say hello this morning.
The stream that flowed down the canyon past town was a decent size, more than enough to meet everyone's needs. Even so it was fairly shallow, so they'd deepened a few of the spots people frequented most into small pools to make gathering water easier.
Not bathing, though. Privacy considerations and water temperature aside, they were doing everything they could to avoid contaminating the water upstream of town and where it flowed past, all the way to a mile downstream of the last house. That included keeping latrines well away from the water, and doing any clothes washing farther down.
Of course they still needed to thoroughly purify the water before it was safe for consumption, and Chauncey had supervised rigging up a good filtration system with charcoal and sand, then boiling, which provided enough for the whole town. That didn't stop a lot of families from boiling their own drinking water to avoid the wait, but most preferred safe to sorry and only drew water directly from the stream for bathing and washing.
A few of the women in town had spoken wistfully of building up a structure around a pool farther down the valley and creating a sort of bathhouse for use during the warmer months. Trev wasn't sure it would be warm enough to be comfortable even at the height of summer with nuclear winter dropping temperatures, and any effort they put into making it comfortable was more than they could afford.
Creating something like an old-fashioned bathhouse where heated water was provided would be a luxury some entrepreneurial spirit would likely attempt once their situation got a bit more stable, but for now just about everyone in town was stuck with wet cloths and soap. That or a ton of labor hauling water and heating it over a stove. Those who even had tubs large enough to take baths in, that was.
Trev had just finished filling the buckets for the animals when a commotion by the town hall tent farther downstream caught his eye. Matt and Catherine were hurrying towards the road leading through the valley farther north, Chauncey limping after them at the best speed he could manage.
A call from the shelter group's animal pens turned him back around, and he saw Lewis, Mary, and Gutierrez all running towards him. His cousin and the former soldier both had their weapons ready. Trev dropped the water buckets and rushed to join them, checking his MP-443 Grach in its holster as he went. His AK-47 was at home, since he hadn't thought he'd need it while doing chores.
“Why don't you have your radio with you?” Lewis demanded as they came in earshot. “We've got a military jeep headed our way. Some decently high ranking officer, looks like.”
Trev felt his face flush. He kept his radio with him at all times, but he'd been so foggy this morning from lack of sleep that he'd forgotten it when he started his chores. Then he'd figured going without it for a half hour or so would be better than wasting the time to go get it.
Guess he was wrong. “Looks like Matt and Catherine are rolling out the red carpet for whoever it is,” he said as he met up with his cousins and Gutierrez. Without a word they all started down the road after the town leaders. “Think they're here about the veterans we took in?”
Gutierrez shrugged. “Maybe. Don't see what else they could be here about.”
“There's all sorts of things they could be here about,” Lewis pointed out. “But the veterans seems most likely.
Trev snorted. “Hey, maybe they're here to bring supplies for them. Wouldn't that be nice.”
“In a jeep?” his cousin said doubtfully. “While we're enjoying some wishful thinking maybe Bryant's found a source for smokeless powder and primers and sent it our way. We could be making bullets in less than a week!”
“Well whatever it is, we'll find out soon,” Mary said.
* * * * *
Matt had to admit that his thoughts weren't fully on the approaching jeep.
Dr. Maggy, as the town's new OB/GYN had asked them to call her, had checked on Sam yesterday. She'd been encouraging about the condition of his wife and their baby, but she'd also given some slightly confusing advice that felt borderline contradictory.
First off it was time for Sam to stop working at the clinic until the baby was born. Dr. Maggy had told her to avoid all stressful activities, but try to get regular light exercise. She'd also told her to get more rest, but also do her best to be up and about when she could. She'd told her to avoid getting chilled, but try to get fresh air where possible. And so on to diet, hygiene, and on and on.
Matt was fully on board with Sam doing everything she could to stay healthy and prepare for childbirth. He just wished the list of things he needed to remember, to remind her in case she forgot and help her where needed, wasn't so dauntingly long.
But all too soon the vehicle pulled to a stop not far away from where the impromptu delegation from the town waited, and Matt tore his thoughts away from fretting about his wife and their child for the moment.
There were four men in the jeep, from the looks of it an officer, his aide, and two enlisted soldiers escorting them, one of whom was the driver. The two escorts immediately hopped out to survey the crowd, not quite threatening but definitely ready to use the M16s they held. Meanwhile the officer left the aide behind in the vehicle and came forward alone. He was in his early 40s, pale with hints of sunburn, not overweight but not fit either, and squinted in the early morning sunshine.
Matt stepped out to meet him, but stopped when the man immediately halted to keep a cautious six feet between them. “Major Kyle Rogers, USAF,” the officer said stiffly. The distance might explain why he didn't offer a handshake.
“Matt Larson, Mayor,” Matt said. He did offer his hand, inviting Rogers to close the gap on friendly terms, but the man ignored it. “What can I do for you, Major?”
Rogers jerked a thumb vaguely westward. “I'm the coordinator of the refugee camp not far west of here. I've been hearing about your town a lot lately so I thought I'd come introduce myself.”
“Only good things, I hope,” Catherine said with a smile.
The officer ignored her. “My men have noticed that you always have someone ready to greet new arrivals. So either you've got people standing around wasting their time as professional greeters, or you have sentries out a fair ways giving advance notice of anyone who approaches.”
That sounded like a question, but before Matt could reply Rogers continued with a snort. “Which would also be a waste of time, since the military is patrolling a wide area around the mountains. There's no chance a threat could ever reach this far. Your people have better things to do with their time.”
Matt disagreed. The blockhead raid not far away was a pretty solid indication that they weren't completely gone. And the Gold Bloc wasn't even close to the only potential threat in the world. In fact, Matt was starting to get some alarm bells from Rogers himself. The man was deliberately avoiding the courtesies, as if steeling himself up for a confrontation.
That was the last thing Matt wanted. Whatever had got under the man's grill, he needed to try to smooth things over. “I appreciate the reassurance.” He held out a hand to indicate the rest of the delegation. “Welcome to Aspen Hill, Major Rogers. Would you like to meet our leaders and take a tour of the town?”
The officer gave the group a slightly disdainful look. “I don't think that's necessary. I'd rather be about my business and back to my duties.”
“Of course,” Matt replied, although he was fairly sure he'd heard the man say he just wanted to introduce himself. “What can we do for you?”
Rogers's next
words were blunt. “Word is you've been poaching people from my refugee camp.”
Matt stiffened warily. “Poaching?”
“What else would you call taking the most hardworking and qualified?” The major shook his head in disapproval. “Not very egalitarian of you.”
It was hard to even think of a way to respond to such an absurd accusation. “We offered some people a better situation than the camp. We can't take in everyone, only the people who can most help the town. What exactly can you find to criticize in that?”
Rogers ignored the question. “That poaching is why I'm here, to help you make amends. Specifically, however many people you brought in from the refugee camp, you need to take in ten times that many women and children. Widows and orphans. Consider it charity, to make up for your cynical cherrypicking.”
Matt's bewilderment was quickly giving way to outrage, not to mention genuine worry. The town couldn't handle hundreds more refugees. “Absolutely not. Unless the military is willing to give us supplies for those you're asking us to take in. The people we invited from the camp are already going to be eating into everyone else's rations, since we weren't given anything for them. Call it cherrypicking or whatever else you want, but it's still a costly enough tradeoff for the town.”
The major opened his mouth to argue further, but Matt doggedly kept going. “Besides, we already agreed to take in 28 wounded and crippled veterans. Also without their own supplies. Were you aware of that?”
“I was,” Rogers said reluctantly. “It doesn't matter. We have women and children that need to be cared for. Taking in a bunch of experienced soldiers and qualified professionals is unacceptable.”
Matt felt like scum for refusing aid to women and children. He knew that was the man's goal, to shame him into doing something that would be bad for Aspen Hill. Bad for the people who trusted him to speak for them. The town had its own women and children to care for, its own widows and orphans. Besides, if Rogers was coordinator for the refugee camp then taking care of them was his responsibility, not Aspen Hill's.