Reclamation (Best Laid Plans Book 4) (18 page)

Less than five minutes later his family piled back outside and began pacing out spots to hang the crude tarp they were using as a tent.

“Hold on, there's plenty of room in the shipping container!” Lewis protested, although he felt a bit of regret at his and Jane's honeymoon period being cut short.

His family hesitated, although the Smith side of it looked reluctant. “We've upset things enough with our sudden arrival,” Uncle George said quietly, “and we've got plenty of experience sleeping outdoors.” He smiled. “Besides, it's warmed up enough to be pretty comfortable and it never rains much here. We'll be fine for a short time until we can figure out a better arrangement.”

Surprisingly it was Jane who spoke up to insist. “That's ridiculous. You'd be just as crowded sleeping under a tarp as you would be in with us, and we've spent plenty of time sleeping in crowded conditions ourselves so we don't mind.” She looked at Lewis. “I mean they'll be more comfortable and we won't feel guilty so it's better for everyone, right?”

Trev and Mary, who'd been holding up the tarp to hang it over the cord, shared a look and then dropped it. “Well if you insist,” his cousin said dryly.

Lewis had initially bought 40 cots to go in the shelter, preparing for the most unlikely of conditions, so there were plenty for everyone. Arguably they could've all fit in the shelter itself if needed, although they would've been packed side by side. This was much more comfortable.

First things first they emptied the back of the shed and loaded it with the sacks of grain, piling them three high, or about knee height. Lewis had covered the bottom of the container with sheets of plywood to protect the original floor, and they put these on top of the sacks to make a slightly raised area that would fit enough cots for the Smith family.

With the sacks underneath them the boards had a tendency to shift slightly with each step, but they were stable enough that sleeping on them wouldn't be a problem. Jim had fun hopping on the end of one while Linda was testing her cot, jolting her up almost an inch, and when she chased him out of the shed screeching Lewis couldn't help but laugh.

It was almost like when they'd all been younger on a camping trip. He noticed Trev and Mary laughing too, while their parents looked a bit impatient. Although even they couldn't hide slight smiles.

It didn't take too much longer to get the shed set up to sleep ten people. As a finishing touch Jane worked on arranging their shared possessions in their new sleeping area while Lewis put up some partition curtains to give everyone a bit of privacy.

As he worked he kept an eye on his wife, trying to gauge her mood. Her expression was a bit wooden, like she got when she was doing her best to keep patient until she could get a bit of alone time. Seeing it, he hurried to finish up so he could go sit next to her on their bed and put his arm around her, and she leaned into him and put her head on his shoulder.

“Will this be okay for you?” he whispered quietly, aware that the curtain didn't do anything to block sound. “We can set up my tent outside if you want.”

She looked up hopefully, but then immediately shook her head. “Everyone would feel like they'd chased us out.”

“They'll be fine.”

After a short hesitation she shook her head again. “It's . . . nice, seeing you around them. I can put up with a bit of awkwardness to give them a chance to get used to me. You've bent over backwards to let me be antisocial, but this is something I should probably do.”

Lewis hugged her a bit closer, then bent down and kissed her. “Want to go for a walk?” he offered.

“Yeah.” She stood, but put a hand on his shoulder to keep him from following. “I won't be gone long. This'll give you a chance to spend some time with our family without me being a buzzkill.”

For some reason that hurt a bit, although it was reasonable enough on her part. Lewis reminded himself that he'd promised to give her space when she needed it, and it was part of who she was. Still, it was a bit painful to think that she sometimes needed space from
him
.

Once his wife was gone he also made his way out of the shed, slowing slightly near the door to catch Trev around the neck in the crook of his elbow and drag him along. “Come on, let's go get dinner. We can take the bikes.”

His cousin yelped slightly and danced his feet for the first few steps until he could get his balance. “Hunting?”

“Traps set up around the gardens, actually. You can see how our crops are growing at the same time.”

They spent a minute or so explaining where they were going to their confused and slightly disappointed family, insisting it would just be a short trip. Then Lewis hopped on his bike and started off down the gravel road with Trev pedaling next to him.

“Did you and Jane have a fight?” Trev called to his cousin as they set a brisk pace towards the south end of town. They passed a few people on the way, and returned their excited waves, but didn't stop to chat with anyone.

Lewis frowned slightly. “No. She just likes her space. You remember.”

“Yeah.” Trev glanced back towards the shelter, although it was well out of sight and the view was even blocked by a few buildings now. “You guys actually go great together.” His cousin gave him a flat look and he quickly raised a placating hand, wobbling slightly on his bike. “I mean that in a good way! I'm actually really happy that things worked out so well for you. It was looking pretty bad when I left.”

“Yeah, they did work out really well,” Lewis said, nodding thoughtfully. “For both of us.”

Trev shook his head, thinking about Lewis and Matt's reports about what had happened while he was gone. “I missed some pretty crazy stuff. Everything with the raiders, and you and Jane. And the animals!”

His cousin turned to grin at him. “That's up there on your list of major events?”

“Well, I mean now you've got a herd of sheep, a flock of chickens, and a rabbit hutch. You've turned into a regular farmer since I left. Not to mention all your heroics defending the town.”

“How about you, dodging a hail of bullets from a machine gun?” Lewis shot back.

Trev felt his smile slip and his stomach lurched slightly, remembering those horrible moments. “And pissing myself, as Linda was quick to point out. It wasn't nearly as heroic as you think.”

To his surprise Lewis braked to a stop, turning to face him as he stopped too. “I know how it feels,” his cousin said quietly. “I've been there. I don't care if Linda was trying to embarrass you, she doesn't understand.”

Even though Trev had a hard time imagining his cousin ever losing control like that, he really appreciated the words. “I'm glad you're okay, man,” he said, needing to clear his throat halfway through.

“Same for you.” Lewis started pedaling again, slowly so Trev could catch up. “Hopefully all that's behind us now and we can get back to living life. You did the impossible and brought our families home, so there's no reason to leave again.”

Trev sincerely hoped that was true. He sped up, silently challenging his cousin to a race like they'd done as kids, and Lewis's grin returned as he accepted the challenge and began pedaling furiously. The rest of the ride was a blur of breakneck speeds, which passed in silence aside from the roar of wind in his ears.

From his cousin's description of the attacks on the gardens he'd expected to see blackened craters, but the area had been cleaned up at some point. More than that, the plots where crops had been destroyed had been prepared for new crops.

Those seedlings were already coming up, but less far along than the surviving crops in a way that made it clear where the missiles had struck. In some plots the sharp contrast between the two growing practically side by side stuck out like a sore thumb, which Trev found strangely unsettling.

Even that small oddity served as a reminder of the violence the ground had endured.

The plot he and Lewis had planted was one of those with mingled original and new crops, the land a bit more torn up than the others because the surviving crops had been partially buried by debris and grown up through to reach the sunlight again.

His cousin spent a few minutes specifically naming the new seeds he and Jane had planted and which rows they were in, as well as refreshing Trev's memory on what their original crops had been. Thanks to his mom's gardening he recognized more than a few by the look of the plants, especially the distinctive ones like tomatoes and beans, but it was good to have his guesses confirmed.

After that he helped Lewis water their plot, drawing from the nearby canyon stream and carrying it back in a few of the ubiquitous plastic buckets. Then they spent another fifteen or so minutes doing a bit of weeding and thinning out a few rows of seedlings.

Trev felt surprisingly content as he worked, even though every time he bent and stretched the muscles he'd overworked hauling the handcart for so long complained loud and clear. The day was chilly but the sun shone bright to warm his back, and he could hear birdsong and the conversation of other gardeners in their own plots. A few came over to welcome him back and exchange pleasantries before returning to work, and all in all he couldn't imagine a more pleasant day.

A lot of that was working next to his cousin again. Trev had missed Lewis a lot on his trip to Michigan and back, especially when times were hardest and he didn't have his cousin to lean on. It had been a relief to have Lucas step in to provide that same calm, confident assurance and seemingly effortless competence, but that wasn't all of it.

He missed the easy familiarity of being with Lewis, sharing their thoughts or working side by side in silence. Of having the reassurance of that brotherly bond they'd always shared, but even more so after the Gulf burned and they came to trust each other with their lives.

He could tell his cousin felt the same way, although neither felt the need to express it any further than they already had.

Once Lewis was satisfied with the garden they made their way around the perimeter checking the traps. Several had catches, a rabbit or two but mostly various potguts, squirrels, and other small creatures. Trev helped Lewis dispatch these and clean them, then reset the traps. His cousin had a bag to carry the carcasses in, which he cleaned each day after use, and they stopped off at the river to wash their hands before returning to their bicycles.

Their first stop was in town, to hand over most of the meat. Scott Tillman, acting on behalf of the storehouse, didn't seem to mind them taking two of the rabbits for their share and leaving the less desirable animals for the town, explaining that most of the meat would go into the infamous soups with foraged greens and the little remaining leftover grain.

“Besides,” the older man said with a smile. “Your work brought it in, so it's only fair you get first pick.”

Trev wanted to stay and chat with Scott and the other townspeople, and particularly introduce himself properly to Gutierrez since his cousin and Matt had only good things to say about the man. But he also wanted to get back and make sure everyone was settling in comfortably and had what they needed, as well as get their dinner cooking.

Besides, now that he was home he'd have plenty of time to reacquaint himself with friends and neighbors. Especially if the town was doing regular events like tomorrow's movie night. So they said their goodbyes and headed out with their rabbits.

Although one luxury Trev
did
indulge in, since it was on the way, was to stop at the town spring and drink his fill of the cold, clean water.

* * * * *

Lewis was in a pretty good mood by the time they reached the shelter. He hoped Jane's walk had helped her as much as hanging out with Trev had for him.

His guess would be it had, since as they braked to a stop in front of the shed he saw his wife sitting on top of the shipping container with her legs hanging over the side, Mary sitting beside her. Neither one of them was talking, although his sister was humming, but they both seemed content.

His dad and Uncle George were using measuring tapes to measure out the dimensions for some houses closer to the shorter hill. Behind them Matt, Ed Larson, and Tom Harding followed with a square, a level, a shovel, and some rope to mark the lines. They'd already outlined one house and were halfway through another, and Lewis wondered if they planned to go with a third as well. Maybe even more, one for each family so everyone could finally have some privacy.

He didn't see his mom and Aunt Clair anywhere, but from the sounds of conversation coming from inside the shipping container he guessed they were busy in there. Linda was over by the sheep pens with Aaron and Paul, trying to coax the newborn lambs to the fence so they could pet them. Off to one side of where the men were working Jim was hanging out with Alvin, describing the escape from the internment camp, which the older boy was only half listening to as he snuck curious looks over at Linda.

Trev went off to join the two young men when his brother called him over, which Alvin used as an excuse to interrupt their conversation, offering to show the two the ewe he'd earned for helping bring the herd down from the mountains. He was probably also hoping for a chance to talk to Linda, and maybe even impress her with his partial ownership of the herd.

Lewis wouldn't have minded joining them, but he decided he'd probably better offer a hand with the measurements. So he continued on to meet up with his dad and uncle.

“Great, you're back!” his dad called, waving him over. “You've got a bit of experience with constructing the shelter and we could use your professional opinion here.”

That was, unfortunately, more than a little true. Lewis wasn't sure what their reasoning was for the dimensions they'd chosen, but working with prefabricated materials like plywood and two by fours placed some constraints on things. Builders could use any measurements they wanted with them, of course, but it would mean extra work; going by standardized measurements made working with them far simpler and less frustrating.

Of course, they probably wouldn't have those materials to work with so that was a moot consideration. They might even have to go up into the hills themselves and find a way to cut down trees and haul down the logs they'd need. But that would place even more constraints on building, since they'd have to work with whatever logs they could find and every one was likely to have a different girth and taper. In fact, it was probably better to get the logs first and
then
do the measuring based on what they got.