by Hannah Ross
"Do you think it really matters?" Ben asked, his voice betraying more interest than he was aware of.
Hughes nodded. "Sure it does. Connor rode all the way out here to Resurrection to talk to people and secure their votes. Dahl and the White Tower people thought it beneath them to do that. But to Connor, every person matters. If he wins, though I admit it isn't likely, he might open a whole new world of possibilities for guys like you. And guys like me. In the meantime, though, we can help each other out."
"How?" Tom asked.
"You know the country and its resources, and there are plenty. There are furs, timber, minerals, ore of all kinds, oil, and much more. On their own, the Wild Children can utilize maybe a fraction of all that. On our own, with our crews so small and having no base out here, it would be tough for us. But with our resources united, we could make a great team."
Ben and Tom looked at each other. "That sounds okay," Ben said. "But we're not rushing into anything. We've kept to ourselves all these years, and we won't have our lands exploited."
Peter nodded. "Fair enough. Now, how about that drink?"
8
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Sunday, March 23
Early the next morning, a prod in the ribs from Tom woke Ben from a dream. A fire in the small stove was warming the chilly air. Ben shuddered, not sure if it was because of the cold or the thoughts of Raven and Taylor that came rushing back. He burrowed deeper under the blanket.
"You okay?" Tom asked. "Not feeling well?"
"I'm fine," Ben said as he turned on his back.
"Still missing Raven, eh?" The glare he received in reply made him chuckle. "I figured as much. But you had to know it couldn't last forever. At least, I didn't think it would."
"You didn't?"
"Ben. As much as you two made sense as a couple, it was never going be forever. You're too much alike. You're both leaders, but a camp can only have one leader. If one of you moved to the other's camp, you'd be arguing all the time about what to do and how to do it. As it was, when she visited you, you were in charge and when you visited her, she was in charge."
Ben nodded.
"That's why you had two good years together. And I'm pretty sure that once the mushy feelings fade, you're going to be best friends for the rest of your lives. Now the sun's almost up. Get your butt out of bed so Pat can feed us breakfast and we can earn our keep."
* * *
"Man, it's getting cold again. It's too bad the materials didn't come. I was looking forward to doing some carpentry and staying indoors working for a few days."
"Me, too," Ben said. "Building requires focus which takes your mind off things you don’t want to think about."
Tom laughed. "Yeah. I remember when we were back in the orphanage and I had a crush on…what was her name?
"Rose Steel?"
"Right. What were we, eleven? You all thought I was crazy to like a girl."
"That's not true. I liked Elisa. Both of us did."
"Sure. As a friend. Not like I liked Rose. But she thought all boys were stupid. Me included."
"She was only ten. We thought most girls were stupid."
"Yeah. I guess. Still, someday I'd like to have what you and Raven had. I guess most people would. Permanent, though. Do you think we can get the horses trotting so we can make it to your parents' place in time for lunch? Your mom really is an amazing cook. You think there's any chance she might consider adopting me?"
* * *
The thin, crusty snow cover made a crunching noise as it was trampled by their horses' hooves, and the front door was thrown open as they approached up the driveway. His mother stood at the entrance, beaming. "Ben! Tom! What a surprise! Hurry up and stable your horses in the big barn and come on inside!"
The warmth of the kitchen was glorious after the chill outside. Ben and Tom headed straight for the merrily crackling fire as Daniel put down his newspaper. "Welcome, son, Tom. When you boys are done thawing, I'd say you could do with a cup of hot cider."
"Yes, please," Ben said, looking as grateful as he sounded.
Rebecca didn't miss Tom's longing look at the oven, where something was baking. "Chicken pie," she said with a knowing smile. "And cherry crumble for dessert. I had a feeling I should make something nice today. I always make plenty of everything in winter, as storing food is so easy. I just put it all in the outdoor pantry. But I'll soon have to give up on that now that spring is here."
Ben raised an eyebrow. "Is it really? It's starting to feel like it will never really come."
"It might feel that way, but April is right around the corner."
A loud rumble of hunger embarrassed him, but his mother just smiled. "The food will be ready in a few minutes. Daniel, why don't you put the plates on the table?"
"So you're heading up to Resurrection?" Daniel asked once they were all seated around the table with a handsome wedge of delicious-smelling chicken pie on the plate in front of each. "I suppose you find this trading venue worthwhile?"
"On our way back, actually." Ben picked up a forkful of pie and put it in his mouth. The crust was crisp and flaky, the chicken pieces so tender they nearly melted on his tongue. It was an especially fine treat after all the meager meals of the weeks before. "The trading is useful. And, you know, fun. It's another resource for the camp, which is good, especially…" He was going to say, 'especially now that we don't have too much food in storage', but stopped himself in time so as not to worry his mother. His parents would gladly have him come to live with them, he knew, but there was no way they could feed a couple of dozen people throughout a whole season. "…especially for getting things we can't easily make ourselves."
"Your mother and I have been wondering how those cows are working out for you at the camp."
Tom picked up the gravy dish and tipped it over his slice of pie. "Great, actually. And thank you. They're a really generous gift." He chuckled. "But we'd have been in big trouble if Mr. Sousa hadn't taken the time to tell us how to feed them and care for them, and so on, when he delivered them."
"Don't you want one for yourselves?" Ben inquired with a twinge of guilt. He didn't have the remotest idea of how much the cows cost, but imagined they weren't cheap.
"A cow would be too much for just the two of us," his mother said. "Your camp, on the other hand… You needed all the milk for the young ones."
"And a few people are anxious to start making cheese with it, too" Tom said, his enthusiastic voice muffled due to the great forkful of pie he was chewing.
Rebecca cut off another slice of pie and put it on Ben's now-clean plate. "Eat up, dear. So where did you stay in Resurrection?"
"In the spare room at the diner, where we stayed last time. Pat doesn't mind as long as we give a shoulder with unloading heavy boxes and stuff like that. We were going to help with some remodeling this time, but his supplies got delayed."
"He said he wouldn't mind paying us to come for a few weeks at a time in the summer," Tom added. "But we don't really want much Boundary money. Can't rely on it in the camps, though it's helpful to have when we want something from Resurrection."
Rebecca took away the dinner plates and brought out the dessert – a great plateful of cherry crumble, and a small pitcher of cream. "Help yourselves," she said, leaning back in her chair. "I hope everyone has enough room for some crumble."
Nobody needed to be told twice. The hot crumble smelled heavenly.
Ben loaded his plate, adding a dash of cream on top. "Have you heard from Kate and Tony or Jordan and Allie?"
Rebecca shook her head. "Last time I spoke to Kate she said they were planning a vacation in the mountains. Skiing and snowboarding. And she said Jordan was considering pursuing an appointment to manage some eco-project. I don't recall exactly what it was. But they're all happy and healthy and that's what really matters."
His father, with his dessert plate at his elbow, pulled the newspaper toward him again. It was open to a middle section dedicated to the elections, and
featured photos of the two candidates – Alexander Dahl, trim, elegant and imposing, smiling in a reserved manner, and Ted Connor, short, bald and plump, waving jovially at the camera.
"I assume you heard quite a bit about the elections in town," Daniel said. "It's the favorite sport these days, speculating on who might win, though I say Connor doesn't stand a chance, unfortunately."
Ben glanced at the newspaper with obvious indifference. "I guess who's president matters a lot to people living within the Boundary, but not to us. Dahl, Connor... would it make a difference? Either way, some people have legal status, and some don't."
Tom's vigorous nod accompanied his reaching for a second helping of crumble. "Nobody up in the White Tower cares about us."
Rebecca shook her head. "That isn't exactly true, boys. I've met Ted Connor a few times in the past and interviewed him, and I can say that at least he's a straight shooter, or used to be a few years back, which is more than I can say about Dahl. Connor won't try to hoodwink people. And he said more than once that the policies of the White Tower need a radical change."
"Politicians say a lot of things, though, especially as the elections are drawing near," Daniel said. "You boys are staying up in the attic tonight, aren't you? We've turned it into a proper bedroom since you were last here. Same bed, but finished walls and floor and a little fireplace. We'll throw in a camp bed for one of you."
Ben nodded. "Sure. We'll cast our lot. Last time Tom won the comfy bed. And I hope you won't mind, but we're going to turn in early. We have to get up with the sun if we want to make it home by midday tomorrow."
* * *
This time Ben was the lucky one, and Tom had to settle down on the camp bed which, nevertheless, was much nicer than spreading a sleeping bag over a layer of old straw, sawdust, and horse manure.
"You could have a cushy life here with your folks," Tom said, yawning. "They'd love to have you stay for good."
"I know. But this isn't my place. I belong with the camp."
"I know. You're way too loyal to even consider leaving. That's why Raven—"
Ben grimaced. "Do me a favor, Tom, and drop it."
Tom complied and was soon asleep, but Ben lay awake for a long time, tossing and turning.
9
________________________
Monday, March 24
"I thought you were going to sleep the morning away," Daniel said with a grin.
"That bed is pretty darn comfortable. Tom should have waked me. Where is he?"
"Out in the barn taking care of the horses. Your mother's helping him." He chuckled. "She really likes horses. I think one of these days she's going to casually remark about how nice it would be to have horses to ride."
"I didn't know you liked riding."
"I don't. But she does. Or thinks she does since she's never been on horseback. Would it be okay if one day we drive over to your camp so she can have a riding lesson and learn about caring for them?"
"Sure."
"Good. But don't say anything now. I'll suggest it if she does start talking about horses. Why don't you have breakfast? There should be some apple pie unless Tom finished it all this morning."
A few minutes later, as Ben washed down a bite of pie with some milk, the front door opened.
"It's about time," Tom said, glancing at the clock on the wall. "When was the last time you slept 'till after eight?"
"Probably the last time I was sick. Thanks for taking care of the horses. Where's my mother?"
"Checking the chicken coop for eggs. She'll be in soon. Are we hanging out here or heading back to camp?"
"I wish we could stay, but there's a lot to do at camp and I feel a little guilty about going to Resurrection Town and leaving them to—"
"Ben. Everyone understands. So come on. Finish up so we can saddle the horses and get going. There's lots to do back at camp to keep us busy."
____________
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When Tim returned home, he found Priscilla and his mother sitting on the porch shelling peas and talking. He hoped to get going immediately, but instead, pulled up a chair and helped. Not quite twenty minutes later, the last peas were in the big bowl and Priscilla was thanking Mrs. Dustin for her kindness and hospitality.
She caught her son's eyes as she said, "Dearie, you're welcome to come stay with us anytime. It was nice to have a young woman around to talk to for a few days."
Once on the road, they talked about her helping his parents around the house. "You sure made one heck of an impression."
"What do you mean?"
"She's never before said anyone was welcome to come and visit. I think…no. Never mind."
"What? Tell me."
"Well...There's this girl I like. But Ma don’t much like her 'cause she's a redhead and Ma thinks redheads are nothing but trouble. I guess with all the help you gave them this week… well... I think she's thinking you'd make a good wife for me. You probably would if I, you know, liked you that way, but, no offense, I'm planning to marry Dora as soon as I can afford to build us a little cabin somewhere."
"Well, no offense taken. I hope things work out well between you and Dora and if I'm still around when you get married or whatever, I hope you'll invite me to the ceremony."
They chatted for a bit longer, then fell into silence as the dusk gradually deepened and night fell. The truck rattled and bounced, but moved safely along, carrying the youngest daughter of Alexander Dahl on roads that hadn't been repaired in many decades. When the landscape became too dark to discern anything beyond the headlights, Priscilla turned to her companion.
"Tim?"
"Yeah?" He looked at her fleetingly before returning his attention to the road. "Getting tired?"
"N-no. It's not that. I just wanted to say thanks. For taking all the trouble. And for not asking too many questions."
He grinned. "It's like this. Here across the Boundary, people are more forbearing. We have to be, if we want to keep peace and order. We like our freedom, and we don't want the government to start meddling too much. So we live and let live. A lot of people come out here to seek their fortune. Some don't have their documents in perfect order. Some got in some sort of mess with their family and just want to get away. It's all legit, 'slong as you're the decent sort."
Priscilla smiled. "And I'm the decent sort?"
"Of course you are. It shows. That's why Ma…you know."
They continued onward in the moonless night until they crested a hill and Priscilla could see lights in the distance, a warm, comforting orange glow which was the only thing to dispel the darkness for many miles around. They drove up a short gravel lane, and she caught glimpses of structures illuminated by Tim's headlights; a big barn, a small barn, a toolshed, a low wall, some fencing, and finally, the house itself, a cozy-looking building with small windows and a very solid door upon which Tim presently knocked.
Priscilla heard a man's voice say, "Who on earth could it be at this hour?" He doesn't sound worried, though. I guess these people fear nothing. Or maybe there's nothing out here to fear.
"That's Mr. Hurst. Daniel," Tim said in a low voice. "His wife is Rebecca."
Someone strode to the door and swung it open. "Tim! Now that's a surprise!"
The woman who greeted them wore a pair of jeans so faded they were almost white, and a thick grey sweater. She looked motherly and cheerful with her hair, a mixture of brown and grey, tied back in a messy ponytail.
"Evening, Mrs. Hurst," Tim said. "Sorry if I startled you."
"Not at all. We just weren't expecting anybody. I see you've brought a friend?" She gave Priscilla a curious look.
"This is Nell."
"Well, come on in," Daniel said as he came forward to shake hands. He was deeply tanned, and the corners of his eyes were crinkled from a thousand smiles. "Becky, why don't you put on the kettle?"
Ten minutes later, they were all seated in the cozy kitchen around a massive scrubbed wooden table with a p
late of oatmeal cookies in the middle and a steaming mug of tea in front of each of them.
"Nell is looking for a place to stay," Tim said. Priscilla shot him a murderous look, which he seemed to ignore. "She tried Emmerson's, but it didn't work out."
Daniel snorted. "Of course it didn't. Emmerson is a leech. He…well, never mind. You're new in the area, aren't you, Nell?"
Priscilla nodded. "I'm not looking for free rent. I'll do whatever you need done on the farm."
Rebecca and her husband exchanged glances. "Well, dear," she said. "We're not exactly looking for a worker, you know. But we do have plenty of room, and we could use some help around here."
"Do your parents know you're here, Nell?" asked Daniel.
She was afraid of this question, but she guessed it was inevitable. She lowered her head slightly.
"Hey, many kids have problems with their folks at this age," Tim pointed out. "Sometimes living at home just don't work out."
"How old are you, dear?" Rebecca asked.
Priscilla considered adding a year or two, but she knew it wouldn't do. If anything, she looked younger than she was. "Sixteen."
Daniel and Rebecca exchanged another glance, and Priscilla noticed the husband gave an almost imperceptible shake of the head as he said, "And I suppose you're not about to tell us more about how you came to be here, across the Boundary, all alone?"
Priscilla felt the beginning of desperation. "You have to believe me. I've done nothing wrong. I just… I just needed to get away, that's all. You don't suppose that's impossible, do you?"
"No, of course not," Rebecca said as she laid a hand on her husband's arm. "Daniel, why don't we step aside and have a word? You two will be alright here by yourselves for a few minutes, won't you?"
Rebecca and Daniel went into a little room just off the kitchen, which seemed to serve as a storage space and a place to hang coats, tools, and sacks of onions. They closed the door behind them, but Priscilla could still catch snatches of phrases: "… irresponsible… don't know anything about…" in Daniel's voice, and Rebecca's decided response: "at least she'll be safe here, I will never forgive myself if…"