The Cabin on The Blue Ch. 03

Lenore and Verre were looking at Rachel, who had gone quite red in the face. The other women had been giving her knowing glances over her new companion, and she knew that Verre especially would ply her with questions. Everything about John's manner spoke of an intimacy between them.

"Do you know what sorts of things are growing there now?" Lenore asked.

"Apples, cabbage, onions and artichokes," John ticked the items off on his fingers. "And you get a fair amount of deer in the orchard after the apples on the ground - all of the trees have been wrapped against them." He rubbed his chin. "There's lots of greens in the warmer months. The previous owners grew corn, squash, tomatoes and cucumbers there. In the milder winters, it'll go dormant and come back in the spring. Lots of rhubarb come summer. Gail was particular to making a variety of rhubarb pies...."

Rachel bit back a smile as he continued. His knowledgeable enthusiasm was captivating, and his rugged good looks only helped to hold the attention of his audience.

"That sounds worth seeing, at the very least," Verre replied, and Lenore nodded in agreement. The two excused themselves to the other side of the room, continuing their discussion in whispered tones.

John gave Rachel's rear a playful squeeze once no one was looking. "You're quite handsy, Sir John," Rachel shot up at him, hands on her hips.

"Oh, does that bother you now?" He smirked, leaning against the wall. "You've told me of Verre. Tell me about the others."

She paused at the abrupt shift of topic, gathering her thoughts. "Lenore was a teacher. She knows lots of useful things. Once, she made us all clothes and stuff from a trunk of linens, blankets and things we'd found. I got a tunic sort of thing made from pillowcases. They were periwinkle blue with little yellow and white flowers," Rachel continued, smiling, "and she knit blankets for both babies. Gabriel's her grandson; he's eleven. Very productive near a halfway decent source of fish." John looked skeptical. "Gabe used to keep our entire camp in seafood. There were no slackers in my crew," she replied, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "They're good. You could be a little less cagey about your place, but I get it."

"It's getting late." John motioned to the sky. "If we head out now, we'll be back just before dark. We can come back tomorrow, once they've had time to decide."

Rachel opened her mouth, taken aback, when Verre plunked down on the couch a few feet away. "We've decided," she informed them. "We want to go. It's been getting colder, and we need a place to hunker down for the winter. Everything you said sounds good."

"I think that's a great choice," Rachel beamed.

"We need to pack up and wait for Gabriel anyway," Verre continued, "so we could meet you if you're in a hurry to get back tonight. Meet at this farmstead in two days?"

"No," Rachel said. "How are you going to find the place? It's not like taking an exit off the highway."

"We could meet in the middle then," Lenore suggested.

"I don't trust it," Rachel shrugged, unapologetic. "I think we should stay together."

"Maps and directions have been working for people for eons, you know," John said. "I can draw up something before we head out."

Rachel rolled her eyes at him. "Are you a professional cartographer?" She asked, her voice unusually sharp. John held his hands up in surrender and she turned her attention back to Verre and Lenore. "I would be beside myself for the next two days. What if you get lost or something happens?" She shook her head, frowning. "I don't want to go through worrying about my friends again if I don't have to."

"I'm not sure what your rush is, and I don't want to pry -" Lenore started.

"-Unless you have a sick brother you need to hurry back to?" Verre hazarded, ducking the flick from Lenore's dish cloth that followed soon after.

"-but it would be nice not to split up again just yet." Lenore's face took on a placid, patient mien as she smiled up at John.

"Agreed," Rachel replied, flicking her eyes at John. She drummed her fingers on the table. "How long do you need to get packed up?"

The other two women shot each other a thoughtful glance and Lenore shrugged. "I expect we can get most of it done tonight."

Verre nodded. "Packing up in here, sure. But we need to get the chickens ready for transport. And there are a few things in the garden that are almost ripe, but they could use another night in the ground."

"I'd rather sleep on the ground than make this trip again tomorrow." Rachel turned to John, a hopeful expression on her face. "We really ought to stay."

"You'd be welcome to share our roof, of course," Lenore added with a chuckle. "No need for you to suffer from exposure."

"John? Please," Rachel said as she stared up at him.

She pleaded so prettily, John thought, as he felt his resolve waver. "We'll stay the night. Might as well get some use out of the tent we brought," he said in a gruff voice. He was rewarded with a soft cheer of happiness from the women and a chaste kiss on the cheek from Rachel.

"We were just about to get started on making dinner," Lenore said. "Let's wash up. Then we can sit and catch up while we work. It really is so good to see you again..."

Rachel reached out for John, holding him back for a moment. "Thank you," she murmured, giving his arm an appreciative squeeze.

"The horses," John said, brushing her hair away from her face with tender fingers. "I need to put them up for the night."

Lenore responded from the sink, her foot poised over the pedal under the sink. "There's a horse out there now. We found her a few weeks back. She's friendly, and used to people. We've been calling her Star. You can put your horses in with her. And the dog, if you want."

John hovered, looking down at the table. Lenore had added several more items to her pile, wanting to make sure there would be enough food for their guests as well. The older woman's knife flew as she cut up potatoes, squash, peppers and onions. "What's that going to be?" Rachel was relieved to see Lenore smile at him; she didn't think Verre was a fan of his directness, thus far.

"Depends on whether or not Gabriel comes back with anything," she replied, selecting another acorn squash. "If he does, it'll be sides for a nice fat fish. Otherwise, these'll get browned and then thrown into the stewpot with the other vegetables." Lenore gestured at the steaming pot in the fireplace. She clucked regretfully. "We put down one of the cockerels a few days ago, but the only thing that's left of him now is the stock in that pot. I regret that we don't have better to offer."

"I think we've got something to add to the dinner table," John said with a nod as he headed out.

When he returned, he produced a pouch of wild rice along with an entire smoked chicken. Rachel's eyes widened in amused surprise; the poultry had clearly been taken from his smokehouse stash. "This should ease the burden of our unexpected appearance at your dinner table." John said. "Can't hurt to have a bit of chicken, even if the kid is successful at catching something."

Rachel and Verre exchanged a glance, both stifling their laughter. If Gabe didn't bring back something, the water was empty.

"Oh, you are a treasure!" Lenore exclaimed, scraping a pile of diced potatoes into a pan with a small amount of oil. "And none of this 'burden' talk," she added sternly. "We're happy to have you here." Just then, the bells on the gate sounded and Lenore perked up even further.

Verre peeked through the curtain. "It's Gabriel," she confirmed, unlocking and cracking open the door. "Don't drip water on the floor," Verre reminded him when he stepped through.

The boy stepped through carefully, lugging a pail. "It took a while, but I caught a few decent ones at the end!" He froze, then grinned. "Rachel!" Gabriel dropped the pail on the ground to hug her. "Where have you been? How did you find-" He spotted John and stopped again, looking wary. "Who's that?" Gabriel looked to his grandmother, who nodded her assurance at him.

"He's fine, Gabriel," Lenore said.

"He's my friend," Rachel told him, nodding.

"Friend," Verre drawled under her breath, and Rachel elbowed her.

"I'm John," he said, closing the distance to offer the boy his hand to shake. Gabriel took it awkwardly.

Rachel hid a smile behind her hair. No one shook hands anymore, but John was such a traditionalist in some ways.

"Let's get these fish cleaned up, yeah?" John proposed, gesturing for Gabriel to lead the way.

"I'll warm up some of this chicken," Verre said. "Very gracious of you."

John nodded at her, smiling, then turned to join Gabriel at the kitchen sink, angling himself to watch be able to see the rest of the place while he worked. It was weird to suddenly be in a house full of people after so long. He watched as Verre took a cleaver to the chicken, cutting it in half lengthwise with a single smooth motion before wrapping one half in a cloth and setting it to the side. "Half for dinner, and we'll save the rest." Verre left the other half on the cutting board, amiably shooing Lenore away take over the dinner preparation.

"I'll help," Rachel volunteered immediately, taking up a paring knife and sitting down next to Verre.

The two sat huddled at the table while they worked on dinner, speaking to each other in low voices with frequent glances at John. There was also occasional stifled giggling. Lenore moved on to gathering and packing for the morning's journey once she had handed over further preparation of dinner to the others.

John studied the two young women while they continued to whisper, feeling unusually self-conscious. Rachel was doing most of the talking. She was very animated in spite of her hushed tones, and Verre kept throwing looks at John. It already felt like she had seen him naked from the way she was eyeing him. At least Rachel was saying good things? John thought, his eyebrows knitting. He wondered what, exactly, was being said.

Gabriel busied himself with the fish, pausing from time to time to look up at John or watch his hands as they worked. Aware of the boy's attention, John asked him a few friendly questions about his catch. All the while, he was keeping half an eye on Rachel and Verre.

Occasionally, Rachel would speak at a normal volume and say relatively innocuous things like, "you seriously have NO idea" and "Yes. So amazing," and John's favorite, "I thought I was going to die", always followed by a naughty, secretive laugh that made him want to spank her. Reviewing the memories that Rachel might be relaying to her friend was rather stimulating, and knowing that she was talking about having sex with him was driving him crazy. He couldn't wait to get her alone.

"So, John, what other kinds of things grow out there?" Lenore asked. She had several questions about the area they were relocating to. John could clean fish in his sleep, and he found himself thankful for the distraction from Rachel.

"We're done with the fish," Gabriel announced, and Rachel swooped over to take them. She paused to surreptitiously pinch John's rear as she passed him. She and Verre moved over to the fireplace to prepare the food, continuing to speak in quiet voices.

The meal was ready shortly thereafter; cooking the food had been significantly quicker than preparing it. "We won't need to do much in the morning," Verre declared, plating portions and serving the table. She peered into one of the pots. "There will be plenty of chicken and veg left for breakfast, and we only cooked up half of the pouch of rice."

"It's pretty great to have chicken again," Gabriel added. He licked his lips as Verre carved off several pieces of poultry and added them to his plate. "Fish is good but it gets boring if you have it allllll the time." The boy scrunched up his face. "But without the fish we'd be eating nothing but vegetables."

John grinned while Verre and Rachel exchanged amused glances, and Lenore laughed aloud. "He has no idea how lucky he is," she said with a wry smile.

"Yeah," Verre inserted. "'Nothing but vegetables'." She let out a snort that was derisive yet affectionate. "There were times when I would have committed unspeakable acts for a diet of anything as wonderful as fresh vegetables."

John was finally able to get Rachel's attention again during dinner. "What was that poem? The one you started reciting...when I was convinced you were going to get us shot?"

The others chuckled, and Verre leaned forward to answer him. "We all caravanned down here together," she said, motioning to the others, "but Rachel and I started from Central City. There was this woman- Lily, I think-"

"Lilac," Rachel supplied.

"Right, Lilac," Verre continued, "and she was a real eccentric type. Used to be an English professor before, something like that."

"Professor of Poetry and Creative Writing," Rachel chimed in. "And Lilac looked like a flower child. Super long, wavy blonde hair - and from her shoulders down it was all pink, purple and blue from Before, 'when we had time for frivolous things like hair salons, as she put it." An amused, nostalgic grin spread across her face. "And she wore these long prairie dresses, with sweatpants, and turtlenecks, and these...ridiculous fur-cuffed boots underneath."

Verre nodded in agreement, laughing. "They were crazy looking - but they were warm and comfortable." She began spearing chunks of fish and squash with her fork. "So every night she would tell us a story or perform some sort of poem. And then one night she got really nervous and told us that she had a surprise for us, a piece that she had been composing for some time." She paused to eat, and Rachel immediately picked up where she left off.

"It turned out to be this gorgeous, inspirational composition about our post-modern lives, the joys and perils of being on the road.... We all loved it. We would beg and chant for her to perform it as often as possible, and people wrote down copies of it to take with them...." Rachel shook her head with a fond, sad expression. "It took Lilac like ten minutes to do the entire thing, but I only ever memorized one verse."

Verre began reciting, her cadence slow and measured. "We were youthful Princesses and Princes of a Lost Kingdom. The Congressional Council squandered the riches. I am a Daughter of the Road and Night. I Survive to Thrive. I am a Daughter of the Sea and Sun. I never wait alone." She motioned towards Rachel with her fork, the corners of her mouth lifted in mirth. "Somehow she always forgets the line about the Council."

Rachel rolled her eyes at her. "I didn't always forget it. It started as a protest-"

"-Because you don't agree with the politics," Lenore and Verre finished along with her. Rachel grimaced in exasperation, then burst into laughter with the others.

"Alright then," John replied, grinning.

"I'm really glad to see that you're all doing well," Rachel said, motioning around the place. "By the time Verre and I got to the river...I didn't know if anyone else had made it. And then John and I - well, we couldn't find any traces of anyone..." She shook her head. "How did you two get away?" Rachel asked, looking between Lenore and Gabriel.

Lenore sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Luck, mostly. Gabriel and I were heading back from foraging with a few others - Dell, Laney, Pete - we had filled our canteens, and we were just at the orchard line when we heard the alarm bells and yelling..." She frowned, rubbing her forehead, and the boy looked grave. "We got separated from the others, and I ran with Gabriel. We hid in a deer blind in the woods for a while, then we made way to two of the stashes to stock up on a few things." Lenore shook her head. "Someone else had been to the stashes before us, but they hadn't been stripped. We hoped that meant we would meet up with whoever had been there, but no one showed at either of the rendezvous points."

Rachel's brow knotted as she blew on her tea. She and Verre had grabbed their go bags from the house, but nothing else. "The others, what did they take? What was missing from the stashes?"

The older woman tilted her head to the side, her expression thoughtful. "Water from the first one-"

Gabriel piped up. "And a bunch of first-aid supplies."

Lenore nodded in agreement. "And foodstuffs and a knife from the other..." She shook her head. "We thought we were well prepared. And yet, I have no idea how many of us survived and where any of the others might be," she admitted with a heavy sigh. "It's been rough with loses all the way around." Lenore met Rachel's eyes across the table. "Seeing another familiar face out here is a relief. And you've even made a friend," she added brightly.

"How many were in your group before you got separated?" John asked.

"Twenty-two," Verre replied quietly. "Sixteen adults. Six kids."

"We had a good setup. Big farmhouse in the middle of some old orchards," Gabriel said to John, talking through a full mouth. His grandmother cleared her throat, giving him a look, and he swallowed before continuing. "Olives, stone fruit, and sunflowers. And we had lots of chickens, turkeys and stuff."

"I'm sure Rachel's told him all of that already," Lenore interjected, her tone gently chiding.

John nodded. "Sure, some of it. I don't think she ever mentioned the sunflowers, though."

"We had a huge field!" Gabriel said, his face brightening. "Everyone liked olive oil better, but we used to press sunflower seeds too. Mostly for cooking, but did you know that it has medicinal uses?"

His grandmother chuckled, taking a sip of her tea. Rachel and Verre hid amused smiles, watching John nod along politely as the boy talked. It was obvious that the youngster had been yearning for male companionship.

After dinner, Rachel and Verre volunteered to do the dishes, continuing to whisper and laugh, their heads practically bent together.

John approached, clearing his throat as he did. They both turned with such startled, guilty expressions that he paused in his tracks. Still? He thought, incredulous. Surely the broad strokes could have been covered in a fraction of the time they had been talking? They must be having a very detailed conversation. His face reddened.

"Hi," Rachel greeted him. She was smiling, but her eyebrows were raised in question - and she seemed... impatient?

"Do you want to go for a walk in a bit?" John asked her.

"Uhhh," Rachel glanced at Verre, who murmured something into her ear, and then nodded vigorously. "Oh, right. Definitely at some point, but I promised Verre we'd do something after the dishes," she said, focusing on John again. "After that, I'm all yours." Rachel smiled, then turned back to Verre, effectively dismissing him.

John frowned in annoyance.

"John?" Lenore waved at him from her spot beside the fire. Her grandson stood nearby, rocking back and forth on his heels energetically, his brown eyes bright with excitement. She looked apologetic when John approached. "Gabriel has been asking me about the fishing in that part of the river. He wants a lot more information than I even thought to get from you."

"Fishing the Blue happens to be one of my favorite topics," John told the boy. And a subject of sufficient interest to occupy my attention. He sat on the couch and looked over at Gabriel. "What do you want to know?" The boy was full of intelligent questions. John looked over his shoulder from time to time while he answered them; Rachel and Verre were still huddled together, though they seemed much more serious now.

It turned out that Gabriel was very interested in learning more about John's fishing traps. "Passive fishing," he repeated. "Is it hard, building the traps? Do you think - could you teach me?" He asked, bouncing with enthusiasm.