After the Second Fall Pt. 03.2

Author's Note:

Thank you for your continuing support -- I hope you enjoy the penultimate installment of After the Second Fall.

Cheers,

Simon

Chapter 9

Pip walked into the inn, tired and sore from a day spent pushing a plow through partially frozen fields. After weeks crossing off odd jobs for more than a dozen short-duration employers, and with no other work pending, he had offered to try, and Darnold, one of the local farmers, had agreed to pay him a small premium if he could make it happen -- getting seeds in earlier might mean a second crop in the Fall.

A full day and a little over half an acre later, Darnold was amazed and Pip was ready for bed.

Even so, when he saw Rachel's face he straightened and went to her, pulling her close. "I missed you," he said, then set her back down on her usual stool. "Are you okay? You looked like you were thinking about something unpleasant."

"Sure," she answered, her face still hard to read. "I think I have a prospect for you."

"Like, a female prospect?"

"Guys can't get pregnant, Pip," she faux whispered, at which he rolled his eyes. "Yes, a lovely woman I saw as I was finishing up with the children."

"Rachel, you know I think you're amazing, but how can you be sure if you just saw her?"

"Well, she's a little taller than me, and curvier, which I know you like. She has wavy brown hair, and I think she must have been beautiful when she was younger; today she just looked worn down, almost to the point of breaking."

"And you think I can change that with sex?"

"I'm certain."

Pip pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes until he saw stars, then took several deep breaths. When he blinked the blackness away, Rachel was smiling at him fondly. "Does it have to be tonight?"

"She's leaving in the morning, back to the farm where she lives. I assume she'll be back again, but I don't know when that would be."

Pip groaned and looked up at the ceiling, then cracked his neck and exhaled slowly, like he was gearing up for a fight. "Okay, let's do this."

"Settle down, Pip," Rachel said, patting his hand and trying not to laugh. "This isn't something you have to do."

"But you think I should?"

She folded her arms and looked up at him.

"Right, right," he said, leaning back, "journey of self discovery -- I remember. Listen, what if I meet her and we go from there?"

"Absolutely perfect," she replied proudly, then looked across the room and made a beckoning gesture. Sitting alone, a woman stood, then slowly approached, her face uncertain.

"Hello, Pip," Linda said, eyes downward.

It was probably a good thing Pip was so tired because instead of replying with a hurtful barb, he turned to Rachel. 'Seriously?'

'She is a hollow shell of what she was. The final few pieces that were there when you saw her are gone now. Would you like to know what her life has been like since we left?'

'Not really.'

'Talk with her anyway,' Rachel signed as she hopped off the stool. "I'm going to go read for a while." Then she was walking toward the bar and Linda was still there, looking at her own feet, tears falling freely.

"Fuck," Pip said under his breath, then stood and scooped her up, pulling her tight against his chest with one arm while cradling her head with the other. "It will be okay, Linda," he said soothingly, which just made her cry harder.

Pip glanced across the room and saw that Rachel was talking to Raleigh, both of them looking back at him; Rachel gave him a reassuring smile, then hopped up onto the bar, sitting this time since her mobile leaning post wasn't there for support. It hardly mattered for her oration since the other people in the room were pulling chairs closer to hear.

Linda was soon sitting in Rachel's chair, which made Pip feel odd. There was a lengthy silence, then she apologized, simply and sincerely, and his residual bitterness was neutralized. The following bell was hard for them both, and left Pip shaking his head on several occasions. After the debacle that had catalyzed their departure, Pip and Rachel had moved on; the farm, it seemed, had not.

Bert was righteously angry and wanted to call the Sheriff. When Mitsy returned, smiling and smug, he hit her, hard enough to dislocate the young woman's jaw.

They buried him with a nice marker because he had been a good father for eighteen years. Lucille was sad -- devastated, really -- but not sorry she had done it.

Afterward, there was too much work and not enough strong hands. There was also resentment and even hatred, but primarily toward Linda, whose lies had severed the central strands of the already fraying rope by which the family's subsistence hung. A drop into nothingness was inevitable.

"Wait here," Pip said, then strode off and up the stairs. He returned a short time later with a small bowl, borrowed from Raleigh.

"Take these," he said, pushing the container toward Linda.

There was a pause as the fragile woman registered what was in the container; her eyes met his for the first time. Then the moment passed and the glint of hope that had shined was gone. "We don't deserve this," she said, and pushed the proffered gift away.

"Take it."

She shook her head.

"Please," he tried again.

"I can't," she replied softly. "It's yours."

"Listen," he said, leaning heavily on the table, which caused her to look up in surprise. "You can either put the chits in your bag, or I can feed them to you one at a time so you can reclaim them when you get back to the farm. Which do you want?"

Linda's eyes were as wide as the chits, but much prettier. "Is... is that a real threat?"

"I don't know," he stated firmly, then leaned back. "Would it change your mind?"

She nodded.

"Okay then, let's say it's a real threat."

Like the sun peeking through ominous clouds on an otherwise terrible gray day, there was a smile, and then it was gone.

"Good, so that's settled," Pip said definitively, adding a nod for good measure. "Will that be enough to help? We can get more, but it will take a few days, or maybe a week."

"Pip," Linda whispered, "this is more than we spend in three months. I really can't accept this."

He waved off the sentiment. "I earned six chits today and Rachel gets two every morning." Linda's mouth worked, but no sound came out, so Pip continued. "We only need four a day for food and the room, so we'll be fine. Really, take it."

At last, she nodded and pulled the bowl close; her eyes kept drifting down.

"Linda, I don't know what Rachel told you, but nothing is going to happen between us tonight, except talking and sharing a meal when she gets back. Do you understand?"

The woman nodded immediately and didn't seem disappointed in the least. "You're not mad at me anymore?" she asked hopefully.

Sighing, Pip said, "I was never really angry at you, but I was frustrated. With Bert -- the whole thing with him breaking our deal -- that made me mad. Now I just feel bad. If we wouldn't have stopped, this wouldn't have happened to any of you."

Linda shook her head. "I don't think Bert ever really intended to honor your deal, because there was no way we could have parted with enough food to fill your cart. We've just been scraping by because of the food that Mitsy gave you. The truth is, I think he was looking for a way to send you off."

With that admission, conversation began to flow more freely, like a beaver dam slowly giving way before the Spring rain. They continued talking, feeling each other out, and when Rachel returned from her second job the conversation got easier as she filled in the gaps and would-have-been awkward pauses.

"When will you be back in town?" Pip asked.

"When the pantry gets down to a quarter full, we start planning a trip. With what you've given me, I'll buy enough to stock up for ten or twelve weeks. Mitsy is the better rider, so the last couple years she was the one that tackled the winter trips, but with the baby coming, it will be me."

"So she is pregnant?"

Nodding, Linda smiled and there was no jealousy in it. "She's so beautiful, Pip, and so happy, even with everything that's been going on. You would think she would hate me for driving you away, but if anything, she's been the most... sympathetic, I guess you could say."

Pip looked to Rachel, then back to Linda. "First, please tell Mitsy that I'm very happy for her, and that if we are still here when the Spring actually arrives, we'll be back to visit." Linda nodded and Rachel beamed. "Second, I want you to plan on staying for several days when you return, and we'll see if we can't give Mitsy's child a playmate. Yes?"

Linda was so shocked Rachel had to catch her, grabbing her just before she cartwheeled off the high stool. "I..."

"But only if you get yourself together," Pip added. "The feisty, sexy Linda from the farm is the one I want to see, understand?"

Righting herself, Linda nodded vigorously, then looked to Rachel, eyes wide in disbelief. There were whispers, which Pip couldn't understand, then the two women hugged. There were a few more tears, but the good kind, and they broke apart.

"Hold this," Linda said to Rachel, handing her the bowl of chits. She climbed onto the table, knocking a plate to the floor, then got up on her knees to look into Pip's eyes, hope and uncertainty evident on her face. There was a pause, then she leaned forward tentatively. Pip waited for a beat, then another, but instead of kissing her, he grabbed her and pulled her off the table, sending the remaining dishes flying. While he carried Linda briskly toward the stairs, Rachel smiled at Raleigh and placed a chit on the table; he held up two fingers so she added a second with a smile, then followed the path Pip had taken.

Rachel walked unhurriedly to the second floor, then leaned against the wall next to the door, listening to the sounds coming from within. No words were being spoken, but there were assorted feminine noises -- the good kind -- and Rachel shivered in anticipation. She finally heard what she was waiting for, a female grunt and corresponding masculine growl, and entered the room.

Linda was pinned to the bed, Pip's massive frame hovering over her, moving slowly. Rachel closed and locked the door, then began to disrobe. She gave them some time to find a rhythm, becoming more aroused herself, before she crawled onto the bed. Kneeling by Linda's head, she looked down at the woman and smiled, caressing a cheek and then an ear; Linda moaned.

Rachel repeated the process with Pip, who pushed himself up to receive Rachel's kiss. Slowly, to give Linda time to adjust, Rachel moved forward until her knees were on either side of the woman's head, then she gradually sat back, sighing into Pip's kiss as Linda's mouth came into contact with her lower lips.

Overwhelmed, Linda wasn't able to focus on her second lover at all, but Rachel had played this game before with Pip and she found her own pleasure, rising every so often to let Linda breathe before sinking down again. As Pip's climax built, the frequency of Rachel's motions increased until she was bucking up and down in time with his thrusts. They came together, grunting into each other's mouths while Linda spasmed insensately beneath them.

Still shaking from her own orgasm, Rachel dismounted to find Linda unconscious and breathing erratically. "She'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" asked Pip, a little worried.

Rachel twisted Linda's nipple and the woman partially roused, moaning and shaking until it was let go. "Yep," she said confidently, wearing a pleased smile.

Pip laughed a little uneasily and shook his head. "I'm not sure what to do with you."

Still glowing, Rachel smiled even broader. "You should have seen what Lilith and I did to Esther. That poor girl was afraid to look either of us in the eyes for more than a week."

"Too much information, Rach," Pip groaned, but the thought was apparently a pleasing one as he began to harden again, eliciting another moan from Linda, with whom he was still joined.

"Are you thinking about Esther or Lilith?" Rachel teased. "Both?"

With a glare for Rachel, Pip started moving again, slowly, triggering Linda's mind to begin its crawl upward toward consciousness.

Linda didn't leave the following day because she couldn't sit on the bike, so she went to the underground terminal and sent a message home. Normally, spending a chit on a simple message was an unnecessary and very expensive waste, but Linda didn't want Lucille and the others to worry, especially since they were counting on her for food and other necessities.

"This is how you knew we were coming?" Pip asked.

Not knowing for sure, Linda could only shrug.

"The Sheriff -- Paul, I think -- probably sent a message on ahead," Rachel suggested. "Raleigh told me that the underground cable runs from that first town we saw to a couple day's ride North of here, and that everybody hears all of the messages."

"Interesting. What did you tell them?"

Linda held up the slip of paper, which read:

From: FITZEN, LINDA CRANNERT

To: CRANNERT FARM

Message: STAYING 1 OR 2 EXTRA DAYS. NO PROBLEMS. HAVE VERY GOOD NEWS.

"Two extra days?" Rachel asked with a knowing grin.

Looking down shyly, Linda shrugged while an answering smile pulled at her lips. "I could, if you want me to."

When Linda drove away, sitting on Pip's pillow and smiling despite the ache, she looked radiant. There were several townspeople that noticed.

One was the underground operator, who stopped Pip as he walked by one morning. It turned out the small man harbored a crush on Linda's sister, Marion. Not knowing the woman very well, Pip promised to send Rachel by to talk.

Another was the carpenter, Fred, for whom Pip had done multiple jobs. Where he had been distant before, his looks became openly hostile. After a discreet inquiry from Raleigh, which meant everyone would soon know he had asked, Pip learned that Fred did, in fact, have a thing for Linda. Not surprising, really: the Crannert women were quite striking.

It was the third observer that chose to actively rock the boat, hoping to watch the intruders fall overboard.

Mathilda could have been pretty, had she smiled more. Above a lissom frame with perky accents, she had delicate features and equally delicate hair, so blonde it looked silver in the sun. Instead, she chose to wear a variety of scowls, frowns, and equally unpleasant faces anytime she was around others. She was the product of a difficult childhood and then a loveless marriage to a wandering, often abusive husband, whose only positive quality was providing enough chits that she didn't have to burden herself with labor. Her purposeless existence allowed her to revel in gossip and hurtful words, and yet the fundamental problem wasn't that her lies and half truths were spoken, but that they were received and even welcomed.

Raleigh knocked on the door urgently three days following Linda's departure, shortly after the evening meal. "Carter, the underground operator, he came to see me," the proprietor whispered urgently as Pip and Rachel listened. "The Sheriff, Paul Smith, he's on his way. He'll be here in two or three days."

"And?" Pip asked.

"He's coming to kill you."

"Oh, that's fine," Pip responded with a shrug. "A lot of people have tried to kill me. Is there a reason, or is this normal here?"

"Because you're stealing people's wives."

Rachel looked at the man that had provided them food and lodging for many weeks, her face unimpressed. "Raleigh."

"I didn't say I believed it, but Little Joe sent a message and the Sheriff is coming."

"And he'll be here in three days?" Pip asked.

"Or less," Raleigh replied urgently. "If you start walking now, you can be North of Figgerdy before he can catch you, and he won't go any further."

Pip sat back down on the bed, which creaked in response to his weight. "Raleigh, thank you for the warning, but we're not going to run. He threatened us before and we let it go, but not this time. If he really wants a fight, I will give him one."

"He has a gun."

"Thank you again, Raleigh, but we'll be fine. My bigger concern is that someone called him at all. Do you think there will be trouble?"

"Not if you leave," the man insisted.

Sighing, Pip looked to Rachel and then back to the owner. "Are you telling us to leave?"

"I..."

"Are we good customers?" Rachel asked, startling Raleigh out of his sudden inability to talk.

"Yes, of course. I don't think I've ever had better."

"And you want us to leave?"

He still didn't find words, so Rachel put her hand on his back and ushered him into the hallway. "Think about it tonight. If you want us to go, tell us in the morning and we'll leave." She shut the door in his face, slowly so that it wasn't outright insulting, but her message was clear.

"I'm worried about the Crannert farm," Pip said as she sat beside him; Rachel nodded. "First thing tomorrow, we'll ride to see them."

"You want to meet this Paul guy there?"

Pip nodded. "The Meister told us once that it's important to keep your opponent guessing in a negotiation."

"I don't think he's coming to talk, Pip."

"Me neither, but we'll at least try."

"Do you have a plan?"

Nodding again, Pip stood and began packing.

The next afternoon, after a very early start, Pip squatted by the side of the road, concealed by several barrels that had been placed there; not far away, Rachel and the Crannert clan were tucked safely in the storm shelter. From his hiding spot it was easy to see the Sheriff coming: the ground over which the road ran was flat for a long, long way, and while the air was cold, it was clear. A beautiful day, really, for such ugly business.

The Sheriff was riding with three others, presumably the same ones that had accosted Pip and Rachel months before. They were moving at a steady trot, heels down and heads up, but they didn't appear to be scanning for trouble; it was nearly midday and they were probably looking forward to a meal with Bert Crannert before the confrontation in Fitzen.

One of the horses spooked as Pip stepped out, but it didn't matter, because Bert was already down on the ground with Pip's massive boot on his chest, testament to the Adam's incredible speed. "Hello, Sheriff." Two of the men turned to face him, weapons in hand, while the third sat up from where he had fallen off his mount, holding one wrist with the other hand. "I heard that you wanted to talk to me."

Instead of being cowed, the man was defiant as he tried to get the air back in his lungs. He kicked wildly and beat at Pip's ankle with his arms, so the former fighter pushed down a little harder, face impassive. One of the riders raised his club, so Pip met his eyes and shook his head; the man looked to the Sheriff for direction, but trying to breathe had taken all of the other's attention. The man on the horse lowered his arm.

Pip let off some of the pressure and the Sheriff took a stuttering breath. "This doesn't have to be a you-against-me thing. You know that message about stealing women was nonsense. You can turn around and this whole thing goes away."

"Like Hell," wheezed the Sheriff, his defiance returning with his breath.

Pip nodded and pulled the Sheriff's gun from the man's pocket. "Everyone is so scared of these," he said while shaking his head. "I told you before that I'm not." He reached down again and grabbed the Sheriff's shirt, dragging him several paces away from the horses, then dropped him on the road. He took ten strides and dropped the gun, then walked another ten and turned around.

The Sheriff was nearly to the gun as Pip turned, cocking his arm as he did so. As the gun started to be raised, Pip let fly with the stone he had pulled from his own pocket. The fist sized rock struck the Sheriff in the throat, causing the man to crash to his knees. A shot rang out and Pip stepped to the side in slow time, giving the wild bullet a wide birth, then started walking back to where the man was gasping, unable to get air. Pip picked up the gun, then walked to stand in front of the two still-mounted riders. He looked between them, then tossed the gun to the one on his right, who caught it awkwardly.