The Cabin on The Blue Ch. 03

John reached out, cupping her face in gentle hands. "I love you," he said, leaning over the horses and kissing her before she could respond.

She stared back at him, and took a deep, tremulous, breath. John... was worth the risk. "I'm not going anywhere," she said, her heart racing. Unexpected relief coursed through her as the words passed her lips. "You know I love you, John," she murmured. "I'm not leaving."

He stared into her eyes a while longer, seeming to assess her inner thoughts before finally nodding. He smiled, a look of contentment crossing his features for a moment as he exhaled in relief. John leaned back into his saddle, sitting upright on his horse as his face turned serious again. "I saw something out here. Yesterday. And a few days before," John continued, staring off into the distance. His voice and body language combined to make an odd, anxious feeling in her stomach. "People. Young black woman. She had some sort of hair covering. A wrap, I think? Only her hair is covered, so I don't think it's meant to be the religious sort," he said thoughtfully. Rachel raised an eyebrow, briefly amused despite the growing tenseness she felt. "She's not alone, but I haven't gotten close enough to see the others."

Rachel swallowed, nervous. "What- what did she look like?"

"Young, maybe a little older than you. I'd say she's probably under thirty...although she is black, so it's hard to really know." John's brow knitted. "Pretty. Brown skin, a few shades darker than you."

That could be anyone, Rachel told herself, quelling her rising excitement. "How many people is she with? Did you see any other women? Or children?" Her eyes narrowed. "Were there any men there?"

"I wasn't close enough to see for sure, but I think there's three of them. I didn't hear any men. It's hard to get close enough to observe details without being seen. I spied the woman from a distance, walking across the field, and I followed her. They're set up in the blue farmhouse over there, just past of that field of grasses." John handed over the small pair of binoculars he had fished from his jacket pocket, watching her.

Rachel hesitated, taking a moment to compose herself before she looked across the field; she could practically feel the pressure of his gaze as he waited for her reaction. The farmhouse was an old-fashioned log cabin, and smaller than John's place. Surrounded by a tall, sturdy fence, it had a tidy, separately fenced in garden and a covered pen. A rooster crowed. Rachel peered closely and noticed a flock of chickens walking around inside the fence that surrounded the place. That explained the fence for the garden, she thought absently while scanning the area. A small plume of smoke wound its way into the sky from the chimney.

"You were curious as to why I brought so much food... If these are your people, they've been out here for a while and they could probably use some supplies. It's sparser out here - not many houses or cultivated plots, and less wild edibles. Especially this time of year." He paused, and his voice was hard when he spoke again. "If there's danger, I'll handle it." John tapped the sheath on his thigh, preoccupied. His holster was well concealed under his jacket; Rachel couldn't detect it and she knew where it was.

"We'll handle it together." Rachel shifted her hip, intentionally pressing the handle of the sheathed knife she wore on her belt into her flesh. Seeking the comforting poke of the weapons she held was one of those odd reassurances that had become second nature. She relaxed, slightly. All of her weapons were accessible, but she didn't feel a need to draw any of them. Yet. She looked through the binoculars again. There was no detectable movement, but she could feel the presence of other people, When she looked back at John he was staring at her expectantly. She nodded. "Let's go check it out."

They approached from an angle, taking advantage of the scant cover that the nearby forest offered. As they drew closer, Rachel began to notice the carved totems hanging from the trees closest to the house. They were intricately designed pieces of various sizes, made of wood or bone, hung from cords woven from grasses and reeds.

Her breath caught in her throat, and for the first time she pulled her horse ahead of John's. Rachel grabbed at one of the totems, pulling it in for a closer look. "Oh," she breathed. It bore the same symbols as the wooden charm she still carried on her pack. Rachel had watched Verre whittle dozens of them around the evening fire over the months they had spent together. Though not religious, Verre had been a professional Astrezi carver Before, making beautiful ceremonial pieces for temples around the country. She had done personal pieces for the love of the art, something she had continued.

"What is that?" John asked. She had grabbed a different piece and was rubbing her finger along the carvings in an almost reverential manner. This one bore the head of a woman, wearing a flower headdress; he could make out the shapes of animals and produce on a few others nearby.

"They're Astrezi pieces. Protective totems....they're supposed to invoke ancestral spirits." She turned to look at him, her eyes bright. "How long have these been here?"

He shook his head. "I didn't get this close last time." He paused. "Astrezi?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Relax. It's Verre's work, and she's...secular. If she's hung these it means she's settled in here-" Rachel froze. One of the curtains had twitched, and it was unlikely that they were being watched by a farm cat. "We've been spotted," she informed him in a quiet voice.

John stared at the small structure. "How do you want to proceed?"

Rachel licked her lips, then shouted out from her hiding place. "We were Princes and Princesses of a Lost Kingdom!"

John stared at her like she was crazy. "What are you doing?" He hissed at her.

Rachel leaned over and kissed him, then dismounted Pasquale. "Just trust me," she said, handing him the reins. She stepped forward with slow steps, her arms raised and hands showing as she moved from the edge of the trees into the clearing. "We were Princes and Princesses of a Lost Kingdom," she repeated, pausing for a moment. "I am a Daughter of the Road and Night. I Survive to Thrive!" She waited, eyes wide and breathing heavily.

A woman's voice called back across the open space. "I am a Daughter of the Sea and Sun...."

".... I never wait alone." They finished the line together, and Rachel waited cautiously.

There was a long pause. Rachel twitched, curling her toes into her boots in nervousness.

The other woman called out again. "You left out a few lines."

Rachel let out a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob.

John watched from the treeline as a tall, dark skinned woman with a green headwrap appeared at the side of the house. She had a round, pretty face and held a homemade bow, nocked with an intimidating arrow. It was the same woman he had spotted before, though she looked younger up close. Clad in a dark brown leather jacket, she wore a quiver of arrows on her back - and had a familiar looking machete strapped around her hips. His cache had been discovered, then, John thought with mild irritation. Hopefully the things had gone to a good cause, he thought.

The other woman stared at Rachel for a long moment before she spoke again. "...Rachel?"

Verre looked good. If Rachel knew her at all, she also had a few smaller weapons stashed about her person. Her athletic form had grown slimmer, but otherwise she looked the same. Rachel rubbed a hand across her mouth, her eyes filling with happy tears as she grinned at her friend. "Yeah, Verre. It's me." Rachel waited the moment it took Verre to point her weapon to the ground before approaching her.

Verre opened the gate, and a series of bells rang loudly along the fence as it moved. She shook her head in disbelief, a slow smile working its way across her face. "Where have you been?" she asked, embracing her friend. "You were bleeding when we jumped in- I lost you in the water- I thought you were right behind me-" She pulled back, looking Rachel over with a critical eye. "You look...quite healthy, Rachel. "

"I had a lot of help." She smiled. "I have a friend with me. A man. And a dog. Both friendlies." Rachel motioned towards the trees, then waved for John to come out. He emerged slowly, and on foot, carrying his rucksack. Apparently he had judged it safe enough to approach but hadn't wanted to risk bringing out the horses, just in case. He wore his rifle across his back in what appeared to be a non-threatening manner unless you knew how fast he was. Clark was obediently heeling, although he was waving his tail about in excitement. "His name is John. I've been staying with him since he found me by the river."

"I bet you have," Verre muttered under her breath, giving Rachel a sly smirk. Her dark eyes sparkled. "I'm Verre," she nodded at him as he neared. "Hello, puppy," she said, squatting to get a better look at the happy collie. She held out her hand for him to sniff after getting a nod from John.

"That's Clark," Rachel said.

Verre turned back to Rachel with a smile as she straightened. "Lenore and Gabe are here."

Rachel nodded, pleased. That was some positive news. Lenore, a vivacious former schoolteacher in her fifties with grey-blonde hair, and her grandson Gabriel had been with their group for around a year. He was an agile boy, good at fishing and climbing trees to pick fruit or rob bird's nests of their eggs.

"Have any of you come across any of the others around here?" Rachel asked, but Verre only shook her head, frowning.

"No. I was alone for a while, then we stumbled across each other at the stream," she said, gesturing vaguely into the distance. "They had already found this place by then, dug out some clothing and other things that had been left behind, and started foraging around. It's not a bad area for it. They picked this garden clean pretty quick, but we found some wild stuff growing until the next batch was ready. Plenty of fish in the stream so far too."

John spoke up with his usual confidence. "I know the area pretty well. This spot isn't bad, but I can show you much better places than this."

Verre gave him an appraising look. "Better how?"

"More food, and closer. Nice old woodstove instead of that drafty old fireplace. Efficient, useful winter things." He shrugged. "And you won't have to walk to the stream to get water."

Improved efficiency, especially during the colder months, was nothing to sneeze at. "We don't -" Verre furrowed her brow, then shook her head at him. "There's a well here."

"You don't yet," John corrected her. "In another week or so, you'll have to start breaking open the well cover in the mornings to draw the chain up. "Not to mention the stove."

"What about the stove?" Verre asked, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

"It's gas. It gets right brisk in there during the winter without any gas. Can't imagine there's much propane left in the tank." Rachel doubted there was any; if there was, they wouldn't have been using the fireplace, something John had likely observed as well. Verre's eyes widened in surprise as he continued. "Windows aren't sealed properly. I'll bet that chimney hasn't been cleaned out right in a dangerous amount of time." He rocked on his heels, almost smirking. "And I'd guess you would prefer indoor plumbing to trudging across the field to the outhouse here."

Rachel bit her lip to hide a smile. John had told her that the man who lived here before the Wars was a 'notorious skinflint' - and an alcoholic. He kept chickens and grew the easiest crops. The place was ancient, hadn't been properly maintained in years, and he had spent as little money as possible on upkeep.

John's demeanor was knowing-verging-on-cocky. Damn, she thought, inhaling. What a turn on. She had never seen him interact with another person before; it was strangely comforting to see that he was consistent in his assuredness.

Verre tilted her head, thoughtful. She looked at Rachel, who nodded: yes, he could be trusted to know what he was talking about. "Alright," Verre said to both of them. "Let's go in, where's it warmer, and you can wash the dust off...we're getting ready for dinner."

Rachel looked over at John, who nodded his assent. The door opened inward as they crossed the clearing, and Lenore stood framed in the doorway, wearing a grey and red flannel shirt, dark blue corduroy pants and a thick, green scarf. Her grey-blonde hair, usually kept short, had grown long enough to graze her shoulders.

The older woman wiped her hands on a cloth before giving Rachel a warm hug. "Hello, gal. Glad to see you well." Lenore greeted John politely, introducing herself, then stared at him in open appreciation. She winked at Rachel when John wasn't looking. "Oh, Gabe's out fishing," she answered Rachel's inquisitive look. "He didn't catch anything this morning, and he really wants to bring home something by dinnertime. Gabriel's very watchful over our food stores," Lenore explained. She wore a long suffering expression, but Rachel knew her well enough to detect her pride. Clark sniffed at her happily, wagging his tail she petted his head. "Nice dog," she told John before heading in.

John ordered Clark to stay outside, which he didn't seem to mind; the dog was quite interested in investigating scents in this unfamiliar place.

The interior of the one room house was much warmer, but drafty, Rachel noticed immediately. It was relatively well ordered, though it showed the usual signs of being comfortably occupied. The smaller of the two tables sat near the fireplace. It bore a bowl of pecan shells, and a tray of nuts was drying on the side of the table closest to the heat. That explained the staining on Lenore's hands, Rachel thought. A few small bunches of onions, herbs and other vegetation hung from the ceiling, as well as some strips of dried fish and what appeared to be jerky. Squirrel, perhaps? The tiny countertop held a pile of assorted root vegetables, apples and squash, as well as a basket with about half a dozen eggs; a cutting board and knife waited on the kitchen table next to several vegetables. It was a lean collection of food for three people, but not desperate. Obviously, they weren't starving, Rachel chided herself; there were still a number of chickens squawking about outside.

There was a full-size bed in the corner, a pile of folded up bedding on the couch, and a sizable pile of wood stacked beside the fireplace along with an old hatchet. A pot of something steamed within, hanging above the flames. All in all, the place was comfortable and nicely settled.

John leaned against the wall beside the door, taking the place in. Rachel glanced at him, taking in his mood: alert, but relaxed.

"Let me clear those shells, give us some more room," Lenore said, sweeping them into a metal bucket of eggshells and vegetable castoffs. "Compost," she said, covering the bucket with a lid and tucking it under the sink.

"How did you find us?" Verre asked Rachel, looking back and forth between her and John.

"John saw you a couple of days ago and thought you matched the description of a friend I'd been looking for, so we came out to find out," Rachel responded smoothly before he could respond. She shrugged out of her backpack and outerwear, rolling her shoulders with relief.

The other woman nodded, satisfied.

"Speaking of which," John spoke up, "I thought you all might be able to use some supplies." Reaching into his rucksack, he placed a number of items on the table, including a small fishing net, a first aid kit and several pouches of venison jerky and dried fruit. "It looks like you're doing pretty well," he said, motioning around the place, "but it couldn't hurt to have a few more things."

"Is this milk?" Lenore asked, pointing at the large mason jar.

"From ewes. Pasteurized, even," Rachel informed her, and both women looked impressed.

"There's some butter too," John said. "Also from sheep." He gestured towards a small plastic container with a lid.

Lenore nodded slowly at the small bounty on the table, looking impressed. "You must have a pretty good arrangement, then." She eyed Rachel for confirmation, and she responded with a small inclination of her head.

Verre gave the items on the table a suspicious once over before narrowing her eyes at John.

"What?" John asked at once, meeting her gaze.

Rachel bit her lip. He had his usual direct, no-nonsense tone, something she anticipated that Verre would deem...aggressive. Hostile, even. The other woman sucked her teeth in irritation before glancing at Rachel, who returned a subtle, apologetic head shake and grimace.

Verre stared at John a while longer before speaking. "Why? Why would you give things to strangers?"

He scoffed, then shrugged. "Rachel's not a stranger, is she? It's as much from her as it is from me. She's put a lot of work into the place over the past few months." Rachel flushed as Verre shot her a questioning look, but John barreled on, heedless. "Rachel's important to me; you're her friends. The way I see it, we're helping out her friends."

Verre's eyebrows shot up. "Oh! I see," she replied, nodding. "We appreciate the gifts."

John inclined his head in response. He pretended not to notice the inquisitive looks that the women threw at Rachel. "Is anyone injured or in need of medical care?"

"John's a medic," she explained. Rachel brushed her hair out of her face, meeting their eyes with a reassuring, if bashful, smile. "A good one," she added. "You can barely even see the scars where he did my stitches."

Lenore hid a maternal smirk behind her hand then cleared her throat before taking the kettle across the room to hang in the fireplace. Verre shook her head. "Gabe and I were pretty sick a little while ago. Lenore kept us going, but we ran through a lot of our supplies during that week or so that we were laid up."

"Couldn't be helped," Lenore replied. "John, I heard you saying something about a better setup? Can you tell us a bit more about it?"

He nodded slowly. "There's a farmstead not too far away from my place. Good condition, bigger than this. Close to the river, has a small orchard and a garden. I knew the couple that owned the place. Orchard was planted to always have at least one tree in fruit, year round - although some of the trees are things like lemons, quince, things like that. Garden's all perennials, and I've kept it up. Not a lot of anything in particular - there's a bit of this in spring, and a bit of that in autumn, and so on. It's enough for one or two people to live on, if they're....ascetic," he said, looking at Rachel. She shot him an amused smile. "But there's a lot more cultivated land in that direction. If we were neighbors, we could help each other out." John shifted his weight, brushing his hair from his face. "There are a few places with cleared land that could use planting and tending. I haven't had the time to devote to it, with all the places I'm already maintaining. But we could make short work of it, between the five of us."

The older woman clasped her hands together. "So what - you teach us about the area, and we work together to collect food and supplies and things?"

John shot her a charming smile. "That sounds about right. There's already a few plots of growing things, plenty of food. Rachel and I could use some help tending the existing crops. I have several containers of seeds also. We can figure out the exact details later, but I'd propose some kind of sharecropping arrangement for any of the established plots and crops that I've been keeping, if you choose to utilize them. And you would have to follow my instructions." Verre's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "It's not about control," John clarified. "I've been taking care of these place for a long time and I've lived here even longer. In exchange for your help, your household would be given a percentage of those crops. Before your lovely friend came along, I'd been maintaining everything by myself for some time." He slipped an arm around her shoulders. It was a movement that came naturally to him - and to Rachel, something that did not go unnoticed by the others. "Anything you grow at your place or in a plot you clear is yours, of course, and you can consider the things that are already growing there a housewarming gift. You'll find it rather verdant, even in this weather," John added with pride. "If things work out, then come spring we can probably set you up with some chicks. There are always plenty of baby animals once it warms up."