A special thanks goes out to Skyrose who beta'ed this chapter for me and continues to be such an encouragement.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter Ten: “Relativity”
Driving Heather’s truck wasn’t exactly what Jake Green would term a ‘quiet’ experience, but it was the first time that day when he’d truly been left alone to his thoughts.
And what a rollercoaster of a day it had been. Meeting with Hawkins, having the tendrils of responsibility of not just Jericho but the future of their nation beginning to stretch and take hold of him, had made him contemplative. Could he be what Jericho needed? Could he do what Hawkins asked of him? This part of him—this very large part of him—wanted to remove himself from the situation. In the past, that would have been his solution.
But there was no such thing as running anymore. The grass wasn’t greener on the other side of the fence, though he supposed it might have contained Heather’s giant irradiated ants. Despite the seriousness of the situation out there and within Jericho itself, Jake couldn’t help but allow himself the smallest of smiles. No, the opportunities weren’t any better out there than they were in Jericho, but Jericho had something that the outside world didn’t have: his past and his hope for the future.
Then there was the offer Beck had made him earlier: to become sheriff. Jake knew he had to take the job. He’d be able to kill two birds with one stone. Keep the people of his town safe and keep an eye on the new government. In theory, it was the perfect opportunity. In practice, Jake wasn’t altogether sure he’d be able to stomach working with Major Beck. Hell, who was he kidding? It would probably be a matter of working for Major Beck. There was something about the man that pushed all of his buttons. Was it his interminable patience bordering on condescension? Was it just a throwback to the issues Jake had with authority, in general? More often than not, his father’s voice resounded in his head. “If it was a sunny day, and I said the sky was blue, you’d argue just for the sake of arguing. If you’re going to fight for something, you better be damn sure it’s worth it.”
And that was Jake’s problem. What was worthwhile? His pursuit of happiness at the expense of others? Giving of himself to others at the expense of himself? Was there a middle ground somewhere?
As Jake drove, his eyes caught sight of a Kansas flag still flying outside Michael Flaherty’s construction company. Against the backdrop of blue, Jake recognized the sunflower, Kansas’s state flower. The seal of Kansas was also pictured, illustrating a field being plowed by a farmer, a steamboat on the banks of the Kansas River, and a wagon train. On the horizon was a series of stars. Jake realized that he essentially had the flag memorized. All those years he and Eric spent hanging out at town hall as a kid had rubbed off on him, seeing the array of flags in his father’s office, including the U.S. flag and the Gadsden flag. But for all the times he’d seen the Kansas flag, he’d never truly considered the state motto: Ad Astra per Aspera. To the Stars through Difficulty.
Jake remembered enough of his Kansas state history to know that the motto referenced the difficulty Kansas had in being accepted by the Union during the time leading up to the American Civil War, as well as being an acknowledgement of the pioneer spirit of those hardy people who settled and worked the land.
Who knew more than 150 years later that the motto would be so appropriate?
Jake frowned. ‘To the stars through difficulty,’ indeed. What would become of them? Jake suspected a choice was coming around the bend.
Seeing the tall figure of his brother and the slight figure of Heather shook Jake from his thoughts. He drove by them, watched them in the rear-view mirror as they both did a double-take, and completed a U-turn to pull alongside them.
“Want a lift?” he asked casually, the look on his face leaving no doubt as to how pleased with himself he was to have Charlotte running.
A smile spread across Heather’s features at the sight of her old truck. Charlotte was strangely comforting to her, from its occasional dents to the familiar sputtering noise she made. “Forget giving me a lift. I want to drive! Scoot over.”
“Burgers?” Mary asked as she approached the trio of Eric, Heather, and Jake who had just settled into a booth.
Jake nodded. “Yeah.” He recalled an evening, just a few months, when he sat at the dinner table with his parents, Eric, and April, eating instant mashed potatoes and salivating at the thought of a cheeseburger. It seemed like another lifetime ago.
“You know me so well,” Eric replied as he stood to lean across the table to quickly kiss the curly haired proprietor of Bailey’s.
Mary shrugged. “That, and my own severely limited menu. Still, we’ve managed to make the burger interesting again.” She couldn’t say that they were entirely through with shortages. There were plenty of things that Mary Bailey would’ve loved to get her hands on—including, but not limited to, any citrus, a multitude of imported beers and liquors, and chocolate—but the food supply was improving, beef being a major and welcome addition over the last month.
“You certainly won’t get any complaints from me,” Heather piped in, now that she’d stopped long enough to realize that she actually was hungry. “I’ll take the famous Bailey burger with all the fixings, minus onions.”
Mary grinned. “Good choice, especially if you plan on kissing someone later on.”
Heather’s cheeks reddened and she coughed slightly, while Jake shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Eric shot Mary a look of amusement mingled with ‘oh no, you didn’t.’
Mary smirked, remembering the night before when she’d given Jake the push he needed toward Heather. Though from the look of things, they may were back to square one. Well, if Jake didn’t get his act together, Mary was pretty certain that the young lieutenant who ordered the iced tea the night before would beat Jake to the punch, and it would serve him right. “I was just kidding. You guys are a tough crowd. Some food should do a world of good for you. And some booze, too. It’s past 10:00 A.M.”
“So 10:00 is the new 4:00?” Eric asked, not entirely surprised that people’s drinking habits had changed since the bombs. He’d been known to indulge more frequently than in the past himself.
“People get started earlier and earlier these days,” Mary commented off-handedly, though that small observation was reflective of the much larger problems at hand. Her eyes traveled to the bar where Dr. Kenchy Dhuwalia sat, drink in hand. Jake cast a glance in his direction, as well, and hoped that he’d have the alcohol out of his system by the time his late shift started at the clinic.
“None for me, Mary. I’m driving,” Heather grinned as she lifted her truck key with pride, the key now affixed to her new key chain from Gail. Her embarrassment from Mary’s comment was pushed aside at the delight of having Charlotte operational.
The corners of Jake’s mouth turned up at the sight of the happiness that shone in Heather’s eyes. It was good to see. She deserved that and so much more.
Eric’s eyes fell upon his brother, and for what wasn’t the first time since he and Heather ran into Jake half an hour before, Eric was tempted to ask him what the hell he was thinking by continuing to involve himself in Heather’s life when he was getting married to Emily. But he hadn’t for two reasons: he didn’t want to confront Jake in Heather’s presence and Eric figured he already knew Jake’s answer, and that answer would involve a deflection back to Eric’s own relationship shortcomings.
Mary reached out and touched the keychain lightly, noticing the inscription: Home is where you’re loved. “You don’t say? Did you get your truck up and running?”
Heather looked to Jake, her expression softening. “No, I have Jake to thank for that.”
“I’ll go down in history as the man who put gasoline in a truck,” Jake said wryly.
“Sometimes even the smallest kindnesses make all the difference in the world,” Heather replied, her voice reflective. “Playing a game of soccer with a group of kids, filling a friend’s gas tank. They may seem insignificant at the time, but to the person who receives the kindness…” her voice trailed off. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to get on my soapbox.”
“And I don’t mean to sound like a jackass. I’ve just never been very good at this.”
“At what?” Heather asked.
“Receiving compliments,” Jake replied.
Eric pounced. “C’mon, Jake. You should be used to it. Back in high school, you received plenty of compliments from our classmates. Remember the time you and Stanley put Gerhardt’s nickname to the test and let a ….”
Jake held up his hand. “That’s enough about that.”
“Good old ’Show No Mercy Percy’?” Mary asked as she handed the lunch order to an employee walking by and slid in the booth next to Eric.
“They still call him that,” Heather supplied. Percival Gerhardt’s tenure at Jericho High School was one of legend. For seventeen years he’d been the principal of Jericho Elementary’s sister school. And from what Heather had heard, for seventeen years, he’d been the victim of countless pranks and high jinks at the hands of his students. Apparently, he wasn’t much more popular among teachers, either. The word through the grapevine was that he’d once been an assistant principal in Hays, and when he announced he’d be moving to Jericho to take the principalship here, the teachers had literally danced in the hallways, celebrating his imminent departure. Heather hadn’t had much occasion to be around the man, but his reputation certainly preceded him.
Mary looked at Heather and explained, “The things Jake and Stanley did to him are legendary to this day.”
Heather was intrigued. “What did you and Stanley do?”
Jake smirked. “Let’s just say that knowing me is not going to improve your reputation with him,” he said to Heather.
“No kidding,” Eric grumbled. “Do you know how hard it was to be your kid brother? Mr. Gerhardt expected a repeat of the Jake years when I came along.”
“I may have done some things to make Principal Gerhardt’s life miserable, but I was really only returning the favor. Now that I’m older and wiser…”
Eric coughed loudly, prompting a sour expression from Jake.
“…or maybe just older,” Jake amended, “I can honestly say that I’d do it all over again.”
Heather laughed lightly and shook her head. Her imagination was running wild, envisioning what trouble Jake had caused. She had her own flirtations with mischief, such as affixing toy soldiers to her youth minister’s house using Vaseline, but she was quite certain her mischief paled in comparison.
“Hopefully not all of it,” Mary asserted. “Remember what we talked about last night? The definition of insanity and all…?” Jake glowered at Mary, but his glare rolled off Mary’s back. “Einstein’s a genius. You can’t argue with him.”
“Einstein?” Heather asked. “Oh, one of my heroes. To paraphrase, he said that if you can’t explain something to a six year old, then you don’t know it yourself. I always took that to heart when I walked into my classroom.” Heather paused. She could only imagine what Einstein would say about what they’d become, finally and irrevocably using nuclear weapons to the tune of their own destruction.
Eric’s eyes fixed on Mary. “I like how he described relativity. ‘When a man sits with a pretty girl for an hour, it seems like a minute. But let him sit on a hot stove for a minute and it's longer than any hour. That's relativity.’
“Mmm. Mr. Smooth,” Mary said stroking Eric’s face, “with a very rough beard. Speaking of a hot stove, I’d better go make sure everything’s going okay in the kitchen.” She pressed her lips to Eric’s briefly before sliding out of the booth and leaving.
“And I need to wash my hands,” Heather announced. “Rule #7: Cleanliness may not be next to godliness, but those around you will sure appreciate it.”
“You and your rules. Some things never change,” Eric commented.
Heather thought about her trip to the junk yard, and her nose wrinkled involuntarily. “If you’d had your hands on some of the things I’ve had my hands on today, you’d want to drown your hands in alcohol.”
Jake slid out of the booth allowing Heather to exit, his eyes following her as she walked toward the ladies room. Her ponytail bounced back and forth as she walked, but what Jake noticed most was her sleek neck and the gentle curve of her hips. Could it only have been last night when he’d touched her there? When he’d felt the supple skin of her neck and when their bodies had moved together in a dance?
“What was that death look you were giving Mary?” Eric asked as Jake settled back into the booth.
“Nothing,” Jake replied.
“If that was nothing, then what about the look you were giving Heather just now?”
Jake’s eyes narrowed. “How about you interpret this look I’m giving you?”
Eric ignored his brother. “You can’t have it both ways, Jake,” he said stretching his arms out in the booth.
“What are you talking about?”
“Emily and Heather. You can’t have it both ways. You can’t be engaged to Emily and drool over Heather. It’s not fair to either one of them, and more importantly, I’m not going to let you do that to Heather. She deserves better than that.”
Jake didn’t even know where to begin with what his brother was saying. Beyond Eric’s blatant hypocrisy, there was the fact that Eric was making very little sense. About the only thing Eric was saying that did make sense was that Heather deserved better than him. “You’re not in any position to be the champion of virtues when it comes to women.”
“You’re right. I have made every mistake that there is to make in a relationship. I don’t…” Eric paused, considering how to put his thoughts into words. He’d had a lot of time while in New Bern to reflect on the choices he’d made. “…regret falling in love with Mary. I only regret that I wasn’t up front with April at the start. I could have saved her a hell of a lot of heartache.” He swallowed hard. “And maybe I could have saved her, too.”
“There was nothing you could have done for April or the baby, Eric.”
“That’s not true, but thanks for saying that,” Eric replied shaking his head. He clasped his hands together. “Look, I’m not saying these things to you from some high horse, Jake. I know how hypocritical it sounds to give you relationship advice. I get that. But I also know how easy it is to fall into the trap of…” his voice trailed off. “Look, if you’re going to be with Emily, be with her. If you’re going to be with Heather, be with her. But don’t do this back and forth of false hopes.”
Jake considered Eric’s words. He wanted to refute what Eric was saying about Heather, but truth be told, Jake had thought of her often, not just in the last two days since her return to Jericho, but since they’d met on the school bus the day of the attacks. Heather Lisinski was different from anyone he’d ever known; despite all they faced, she made him want to believe in the beauty of life, not its horrors. She made him believe in her, trust her, when Jake had been conditioned for so long not to trust anyone. Yes, he wanted to refute Eric’s statement that he was drooling over Heather, but there was no refuting the truth. The only thing Jake could do was keep a handle on it. “I’m not engaged to Emily,” he finally said. “I don’t know where you got that idea.”
Eric’s brows furrowed. “Someone told me.”
“You’d think some of the gossip would’ve died down when Gracie Leigh died,” Jake commented and then cringed. “That sounded…”
Eric wrinkled his nose. “Yeah.”
“Heather is my friend, Eric. Same as she’s yours. I want her to be safe, to be happy. That’s it.”
“You’re right. Heather is my friend. I guess I don’t look at my friends the same way you do. And I sure don’t dance with my friends the way you do.”
Jake looked away, seeing that Mary was now back behind the bar. He had little doubt where that nugget of information originated. “Mary talks too much.”
“We don’t have any secrets from each other. Can you say the same for you and Emily?”
Jake ignored his brother’s question. “Speaking of talking too much, what in the hell were you thinking?” His voice was even, his features stern.
Eric rubbed his beard. “What are you talking about?”
Jake lowered his voice, but what he lacked in volume, he compensated in harshness. “You ran to Gray Anderson of all people, who then went off running his mouth to Beck. The man acts before thinking.”
Eric’s eyes widened. He could spout a litany of instances when Jake acted before thinking. And Jake wanted to lecture him? “Pot meet kettle,” Eric replied. “You want to lecture me about being short-sighted? At least I’m trying to do something to make things better around here.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jake demanded.
“Ever since…” Eric averted his gaze before he continued. “Ever since Dad died, what have you been doing with your time, Jake? Hanging around the ranch with the horses? Mulling over your existence? Complaining without being willing to do anything about it? I can’t do it on my own, Jake. I’m not Dad.”
“You’re sure as hell not.”
Eric head snapped up to meet Jake’s gaze. “You remember what he said to you before he died? He was proud of you. And you know what? I was, too. You were decisive—and I knew, God I knew, it was a suicide mission, but I was willing to follow you anywhere you led, Jake. You were ready to die for what you believed in, so why can’t you live for what you believe in?”
What Jake wanted to say warred with what Eric needed to hear. “What I believe in, Eric? You don’t even know what I believe in. You don’t know shit. You don’t know what I think or what I feel. You don’t know me.”
His brother’s words did not surprise Eric. It was Jake’s fall back, but Eric was not going to let it slide. Not this time. “You want to run the show, Jake? Is that it? You want to run things? You want to handle Gray Anderson? You want to rebuild this place? Then stop hiding and start running things.”
“Beck asked me to be sheriff,” Jake supplied. “Is that out in the open enough for you?”
Eric was momentarily speechless. After a moment, he regained his composure. “When?”
“Earlier today.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That I’d think about it.”
“Jake, you have to do this!” Eric insisted, his voice raising. Jake motioned for him to quiet. With his voice lowered, Eric continued, “This could be an opportunity to find out what’s really going on and have some say.”
“I know,” Jake agreed. “And I’m going to take it.”
“You ever think you’d be on this side of the law?” Eric asked, a slow smile spreading across his features.
“Iced tea to go, please.” Lieutenant Jacob Hamilton stood at the bar in Bailey’s, the curly-haired bartender meeting his easy smile. Since running into Emily Sullivan an hour earlier, several circumstances had changed. He’d managed to get to Jennings and Rall and have some Buffalo Credits placed in Heather’s name from his own account. The small ledger he carried in his shirt pocket would allow her to purchase some modest necessities that she might have need of. But he still had to find her first, and time was running out. His C.O. had shown up at the library with new orders for him.
“Too bad you’re not staying. Heather Lisinski is around here somewhere.”
Hamilton glanced at the corner booth, seeing Jake Green with a bearded man but no Heather.
Hamilton chuckled. “If anyone could convince me to shirk my responsibilities, it would be her.”
“There she is,” Mary replied and pointed toward the alcove where the restrooms were located. Mary waved at Heather, who, upon seeing her with Hamilton, approached the bar.
“Hey there,” Heather said.
“Hey there yourself. I’m glad I ran into you,” Hamilton said with a smile. Heather didn’t think she’d ever known a man who smiled more. Somehow, though, it seemed to fit him and his personality; his smiles were genuine and they made her feel warm and comforted.
She returned his smile. “It’s good to see you, too.” And it was. Some part of Heather felt as though she’d known Hamilton for years rather than days.
“How are you gettin’ settled?” he asked.
“Fine. Gail has been very good to me.”
“And Jake?”
Her eyes darted to the corner booth where Jake and Eric sat. She was momentarily startled to see Jake’s intense gaze upon her. Her heart began to pound, its standby reaction to Jake Green. She forced herself to calm down, reminded of Emily’s earlier announcement and the handsome man who stood next to her. She focused on Hamilton and found herself drawing nearer to him. “Jake, too.”
“I’m goin’ to be gone for a coupla days. Wanted to say goodbye before I headed out.”
“Where are you going?”
“New Bern,” the lieutenant responded. An involuntarily shudder ran through Heather, a movement he noticed immediately. “You okay?” He reached out and held her elbow, steadying her.
“I’m fine,” she replied. “Just…” her voice trailed off. She looked down at her hands. She’d just washed them, but they suddenly felt dirty again. And sticky. And was that copper she smelled?
“Thinkin’ about your time there?”
His words shook her from her thoughts. “Yeah,” she managed before looking up at him again. “Hamilton, be careful in New Bern.”
He reached out and tweaked her chin lightly. “Dorothy, I’m always careful.” His tone was easy-going as ever, but the look of sincerity on his face let her know he was taking her words to heart. “So your old stompin’ grounds.”
“More like I got stomped on,” Heather said absently. “Listen, if you get the chance, could you do me a favor while you’re there?”
Without hesitation, he replied, “You know I will.”
“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask,” Heather replied, surprised that she wasn’t met with a block wall of the mantra she’d heard from many of the military personnel she’d encountered first at Camp Liberty and then at Camp Hayward over the last month: ‘that doesn’t fall under my jurisdiction.’
“I’d do anythin’ humanly possible for you if it meant you’d flash me that smile of yours.”
Heather felt her face grow warm, and she couldn’t help the smile that crept onto her features despite her best effort to be serious. “You’re flirting with me again.”
“Damn skippy. You should be flirted with and often and by someone who knows how.”
“Mmm. My own Rhett Butler? I’m not exactly Scarlet O’Hara,” Heather said with a smile. She’d seen the movie enough times to recognize the lines. When she was in college, she’d even played a drinking game that involved downing a shot every time Scarlet slapped someone. “So how is it that you can quote Gone with the Wind? Or, nearly quote, as it were.”
“Ah, some things are best left a mystery. Now, what can I do for you while I’m in New Bern?”
“I have a friend there that I need to get a message to. The phones…” Heather frowned as she thought of the lack of communication between Jericho and the outside world. Goodness, when had a town thirty minutes away suddenly become ‘the outside world’? But isolated as they were from one another, at least officially, it was an apt description. Something still felt wrong about that. If she only knew who to ask about it without getting the standard runaround. “…the phones won’t work to call outside of Jericho, and things aren’t exactly great between Jericho and New Bern right now.”
“This must be a special friend,” Hamilton noted.
“He is,” Heather replied. “My best friend growing up. He’s like the brother I never had. You may have heard me mention him. Ted Lewis.”
“When Major Beck debriefed you,” Hamilton replied. “Yes, I do remember.”
Heather’s chin trembled slightly. “He doesn’t know I’m alive. He—like everyone else—had been told I was dead. I just…I just want him to know I’m okay.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Hamilton replied.
“Let me write his address for you,” Heather replied, relief washing over her. She pulled a small note pad and pen from the canvas bag she carried. Sitting at the bar, she jotted down the address, as well as a brief message for her friend.
As she wrote, Hamilton leaned against the bar and asked, “Did I see you drivin’ an old truck a few minutes ago?”
“That was Charlotte,” she replied as she dotted an i.
“Is Charlotte a woman who looks just like you, right down to your dimple?” he asked with a wink.
Heather felt her face grow warm. Hamilton was flirting again, and while she had to admit that it wasn’t altogether unpleasant, she was unaccustomed to the amount of attention she received from the young lieutenant. “Charlotte is my truck.”
“Of course,” he replied in mock realization. “How foolish of me.”
“Come on. Don’t you have a name for your tank or something?” Heather asked.
“My tank?”
“Your tank. I know all you army boys have your own tanks. The Allied government must keep you well-supplied.”
Hamilton enjoyed hearing the teasing tone in Heather’s voice, but there was something in her eyes that indicated disapproval. Her expression changed as soon as she mentioned the A.S. government. A part of him wanted to call her on it, to try to make her understand why he’d shifted loyalty. It probably shouldn’t have mattered what Dorothy thought; she wasn’t there. She had not seen and heard what he had, but bother him it did.
He took a deep breath. There would be time enough for serious conversations later. For now, he wanted to enjoy what little time he did have with his Dorothy from Kansas before he had to head out. “I have somethin’ to confess,” Hamilton said, his voice lowering as he tilted his head down conspiratorially. “I do have a tank. It’s named Bocephus.”
“Bocephus?” Heather echoed in disbelief.
“After the great one, Hank Williams, Jr.”
A smile curled on Heather’s lips, and she began to laugh lightly.
“There’s that smile.”
Heather folded the paper once and tucked it in Hamilton’s shirt pocket. “And there’s the message,” she replied. “You have to know that I’m not used to so much attention.”
“I’m not used to givin’ so much attention, Dorothy, but you are different.” And she was. Heather Lisinski was the first woman Jacob Hamilton had met in ages that he could imagine taking home to meet his family and enjoying the simple things in life with, such as sitting on the front porch, just taking pleasure in each other’s company. “I’d like to call on you when I return, if you’d allow it.”
Heather nodded. “I’d like that.”
“Good. Before I forget,” he pulled the ledger from his pocket, “this is for you.”
“What is it?” Heather asked, taken aback by the thin, leather bound book.
“Military issue Buffalo credits. You can use it at any of the stores in town that’ll accept the credits. It’s a little like a gift certificate. It’s not much, but it’ll help you get back on your feet and get a few things you might be needin’.” He could see the confusion and disbelief etched on her features. “You should’ve gotten one of these yesterday, but someone dropped the ball.”
“Are these being issued to everyone?”
Hamilton shook his head. “Nah, just those with special situations, like yourself.” He wasn’t about to tell her, for fear that she would refuse the ledger, but it wasn’t for just anyone he’d empty a month’s worth salary from his account.
“Thank you for the delivery,” she replied fingering the ledger. “This will be very helpful.”
Small kindnesses, indeed.
“I’ll see you soon, Dorothy.” He turned to Mary. “Thank you for the tea, Ms. Bailey.”
“Call me, Mary.”
“Thank you, Mary,” he amended. Hamilton looked back to Heather, patted the pocket that held her message for Ted, and went on his way.
Heather looked to Mary who was watching Hamilton leave, her head tilted appreciatively. “Your young lieutenant has a really nice ass, Heather.”
“Mary!”
“What? Am I not supposed to notice? I didn’t say it was better than Eric’s. Just that it’s nice. He just seems too good to be true. Adorable and attentive. Is he the real deal?”
“I think he just may be,” Heather replied with a small sigh. “I mean, I don’t know him well yet, but…”
“You said yet.” Mary’s knowing grin made Heather want to duck back into the ladies room. “That means you’re planning to get to know him.”
“Yeah, I suppose I am.”
“Good for you! I’m glad to see you’re branching out.” Mary leaned on the bar toward Heather. “Let him give Jake a run for his money.”
Heather lowered her voice. “Mary, there’s no competition. Jake is just a friend. He and Emily…”
“Have been torturing each other and themselves off and on for years. I know, I know,” she replied with an exaggerated roll of her eyes.
Heather pursed her lips, not liking the direction the conversation had taken. “Look, Emily is my friend. I want to see her happy. I want to see Jake happy.”
“And you really think they’ll be happy together? They haven’t been yet.” Heather frowned. “And what about your happiness, Heather? Being a martyr never got anyone anything.”
Heather bristled. She opened her mouth to tell Mary that she wasn’t the type of woman who stepped into other people’s relationships, but caught herself. No good would come from opening old wounds. “I’m not being a martyr.”
“I see the way you and Jake light up around each other. You just—I don’t know—sparkle. That’s a good word for it. But if you aren’t willing to go for Jake, I’m glad you’re going to give Lt. Hamilton a chance. I’ve known a lot of men in my time, and I can promise you that they don’t make ‘em like that anymore. Looks and personality.”
Heather nodded. “I know.”
“And,” Mary added with a waggle of her eyebrow and a sly grin, “he seems like the kind of man who would keep you hot on cold winter nights.”
“Well, spring is sprung,” Heather replied as she stood from the barstool and shifted from one foot to the other. “I don’t need him for warmth—or anyone for that matter.” She looked back at the booth where Jake sat with Eric. She could stay in the frying pan with Mary or jump into the fire with Jake. It still didn’t feel safe to be around Jake; she enjoyed his company, yes, but the problem was that she enjoyed it too much.
Mary watched where Heather’s gaze had taken her. “Lt. Hamilton seems very safe. No complications, no entanglements there.”
Safe. When Heather had stepped foot back in Jericho, she thought she’d made it to a safe haven. The incident with the man from New Bern showed otherwise. The world wasn’t the same. She wasn’t the same.
Would someone come for her the way that man came for Tony Schubert? How long until the people of New Bern heard that she was back? Maybe there was a benefit to the lapse in communications, after all.
Heather shrugged. “There’s no such thing as ‘safe’ anymore.”
“So how did things turn out with the would-be assassin?” Heather asked trying to keep her voice casual as she settled back into the booth with Eric and Jake. Despite her best efforts to maintain her composure, the thought of the man from New Bern nearly getting away with murdering Tony Schubert on the street made her palms feel clammy and her throat parched. And what if the man had managed to turn his gun on Jake? Once again, Jake put himself out there, daring fate, daring death.
“Would-be assassin?” Eric repeated incredulously as he looked from Heather to his brother.
“Man from New Bern,” Jake explained briefly.
“Another one?” Eric asked leaning back in the booth, concern etching itself on his features. “That’s what? The fifth one in two weeks’ time?”
“Sixth,” Jake corrected.
“You okay?” Eric asked turning to Heather. He was surprised she hadn’t mentioned it earlier when they met up, but there were so many issues that had come up, Eric thought she must’ve been running on automatic.
She, in turn, nodded. “There was no bloodshed, thankfully.” Their eyes met, a shared understanding passing between them.
Jake picked up on the existence of an unspoken message but not the message itself. They were withholding something. What? He couldn’t be sure, but from the doleful expression on Heather’s face and the concerned look on Eric’s, Jake knew it was something signficant.
“I’ll talk to some of the men,” he said to Heather and then focused on Jake. “We’ll get the Rangers to redouble their efforts.”
Jake frowned, a motion that did not go unnoticed by his brother. “What?” Eric asked. “What?” he repeated.
“Nothing,” Jake replied sullenly not wanting to have that particular conversation then and there.
“I hate it when you do that.”
“I’m not doing anything,” Jake groused.
“Please don’t tell me. Not another argument,” Heather interrupted. “Of course, this is coming from a girl who has no siblings, but I thought once you grew up, you were supposed to put aside petty bickering.”
“That’s just on TV and in self-help books,” Eric said with a shake of his head. “Besides, Jake’s still not grown up yet.”
“I’m nearly two years older than you are, so what does that say about you, Eric?” Jake turned to Heather. “Going back to your original question, he’s in Beck’s custody, but Beck’s following standard operating procedures.”
“Which means?”
“They get held until they cool off,” Eric explained. “Then they get returned to New Bern to regroup and try again.”
“Oh,” Heather replied numbly. She wondered if Hamilton’s mission to New Bern involved returning the man who tried to kill Tony Schubert. “That’s just…” her voice trailed off. “When will it end?”
“Blood feuds don’t end overnight,” Jake commented. He, more than anyone else, knew that. If the opportunity ever came to get his hands on Constantino without endangering his town or his family, he’d welcome the chance to put a final end to that particular feud.
Heather sighed. “They sure don’t. We were all there. We know what the people of New Bern were being told, the propaganda, the lies, that Phil Constantino had them all believing. I almost think that if we had a way to reach out to those people who were our friends, we could begin healing, but we can’t even make a flipping telephone call.”
Jake grew alarmed. “You aren’t planning on going back are you?”
The intonation of Heather’s voice left little doubt. “Please. Give me some credit.”
“Sorry,” Jake shrugged.
“So I saw that lieutenant give you something,” Eric interjected, changing the subject.
“Um, yeah. A ledger of Buffalo Credits. Military issue, he said.”
“God, I hate those things,” Eric groaned. “They’re putting a stranglehold on several of the merchants.”
Heather frowned. “Do you think I shouldn’t use them? I was thinking of going to see Mr. Steele over at the Appliance Mart.” Heather looked to Jake. “I tried to get the heating element earlier, but he’s not bartering anymore, and at the time, I didn’t have any of these Buffalo Credits. Now I do.”
Jake shook his head, stunned. Here was a woman who had little more than the clothes on her back, and she was willing to spend what little she did have on parts to repair his mother’s hot water heater. “No, you should use those to get some things you need. I have another idea of where we can get the heating element we need for the hot water heater.”
Once Jake and Heather made it through the military check point on the edge of town, the three-and-a-half mile drive to the ranch was uneventful. Nevertheless, Jake couldn’t help but notice that Heather was clutching the steering wheel of her old truck so tightly, her knuckles were white. When they reached the gate, Jake quickly opened the truck door and slid out, key in hand for the lock. After unlocking and opening the gate, he was back in the truck, and the two drove up the gravel driveway.
“Are you sure your mom won’t mind that we’re basically cannibalizing the hot water heater from the ranch house?” Heather asked as she put the truck in neutral and pulled the emergency break.
Jake recalled hearing his mother’s surprised screech coming from the bathroom the other day when she’d evidently stepped into a cold shower expecting a warm one. “Positive.”
“I always thought it was so beautiful out here,” Heather confided as she turned off the engine. Her eyes surveyed the green pastures and the grove of fruit trees in the distance. “I used to go running out this way. Back before…” Strange how life had gone on. Last fall and winter, spring had been difficult to imagine, but these pastures, like so many others, were beginning the renewal process. It had always thrilled Heather to see the dull browns of winter being replaced by the newness of spring. It used to be that spring held so many possibilities. Now, she wasn’t sure what the future would hold.
“Yeah,” Jake nodded when her voice trailed off. So many aspects of their lives were measured by the day the bombs hit. There was life before the bombs, which seemed in many ways like a distant memory, and then there was life since the bombs, a life in which even the simplest things they’d once taken for granted—like a jog in the countryside—could be extraordinarily dangerous.
“So did you spend much time out here when you were younger?”
“You could say that. Growing up, I helped with chores after school. Actually I lived out here for awhile,” he explained pointing to the modest ranch style house. “The summer after my freshman year in college. Gramps and I—we were quite a pair.” The faintest smile played upon Jake’s lips at the thought of his grandfather.
“Mmmm, the two of you must’ve left a string of broken hearts,” Heather teased. “E.J. Green was quite the charmer, and I’d say you took after him.”
“You knew my grandfather?” Jake asked retrieving the bag of tools from the back of the truck before starting down the fork in the gravel road that led to the house.
Heather laughed, the sound of her mirth mingling with the crunching of the gravel under her feet. It felt good to be back here, to reminisce with Jake about someone who had been special to her. Well, to both of them. “Jake, everyone knew your grandfather. But let’s just say that he rescued a damsel in distress once.”
“Oh?” Jake considered Heather to be so self-sufficient, he found it difficult to believe that she’d ever been in need of rescuing—New Bern, notwithstanding.
“I was out this way running and turned my ankle. Actually, I sprained it pretty badly. He brought around his Gator to collect me. I felt like Terrell Davis being hauled off the field to go to the locker room for the umpteenth time—minus the obvious, of course—that I’m not a running back for the Broncos or a man.” Heather frowned slightly. She was rambling again.
The two walked up the four steps and stopped on the front porch while Jake pulled the screen door open and inserted the house key into the front door. “I can totally see it. Gramps was so proud of his Gator. He used to ride around the ranch for hours on it, going from one end to the other.” He looked back at Heather. “Of course, the chance to help a pretty girl probably made his day.”
Heather felt her face grow warm from Jake’s compliment. He thought she was pretty. Normally, Heather didn’t put that much thought into her appearance. She was always what she would consider low maintenance—if her hair and clothes were clean, she was good to go. Chapstick was her cosmetic of choice. Maybe the occasional mascara back in the day. So, no, she wasn’t one who was prone to spend hours in front of the mirror studying her face or her body, but hearing Jake call her pretty made her heart do somersaults.
Jake walked inside, and Heather followed. The front door opened into a living room, accented with wood trim, rust colored carpet, and poplar boards crisscrossing the ceiling. A large, field stone surfaced fireplace consumed much of one of the walls. A series of framed photos were set along the mantle. The furniture –a sofa and two rocking chairs and end tables—were covered with sheets.
It was bittersweet stepping foot in the house again. It was both familiar and unfamiliar. One of the things she’d remembered so vividly about E.J. Green’s house was that it always smelled of a combination of cinnamon and tobacco. Now it smelled stale, lifeless. That made sense. The person at the center of the place had been gone for quite awhile. It had been probably three years since Heather had been there.
She looked to Jake who seemed less affected than herself. Of course, he’d probably been there countless times since his return to Jericho.
Heather walked to the mantle and saw a photo of E.J. with Johnston and Eric. The three men were dressed in tuxedos, and Eric—minus his beard—wore a boutonniere on his lapel. It must’ve been from Eric’s wedding. But where was Jake?
She turned back and looked back at him. “He was a shameless flirt, your grandfather.” Her eyes lit up with amusement. “I remember E.J. telling Roger that he was going to steal me away from him.”
Jake did a double take. “Hold on a sec’. You dated Roger? For real?”
“For like two seconds.” With an exaggerated sigh, Heather added, “The truth of the matter is that Roger just couldn’t stand the stiff competition. He folded under the pressure.”
Jake’s eyes widened. “You and Roger?”
“When he first moved to Jericho, just a few weeks after I did, we lived in the same apartment building. Turns out that was about the only thing we had in common. We went on one date at the Pizza Garden. Total disaster. Of course, it was the Pizza Garden, so I should’ve known.”
“Hey, I liked the Pizza Garden,” Jake interjected.
“Hmmm. Maybe it was this date that left a bad taste in my mouth where the Pizza Garden is concerned, pun intended. We hadn’t even ordered our drinks before I was wishing I’d set up some kind of rescue line, a pre-planned ‘emergency’ of some sort.”
Jake groaned. “Don’t tell me you use the ‘rescue call’ method.”
“Hardly, and that was the source of my problem. Lucky for me, help arrived in the form of—“ Heather stopped abruptly.
“In the form of…?”
She clasped her hands together. “I’m sorry. This is just weird.”
“Well, you can’t stop the story there.”
“Yes, I can. Storyteller’s prerogative.”
“Heather…”
Heather fidgeted with her fingers and picked at the side of her right thumb, a nervous habit. “In the form of Emily,” she blurted out. “Emily was there getting takeout. I didn’t realize she was there at first, but I saw Roger looking behind me, off to the side. I turned, and there she was.”
“He was on a date with you and looking at other women?” Jake’s posture stiffened.
Heather shrugged. “I probably should have been upset that my date was ogling my best friend, but all I could think was, ‘Thank you God for small favors.’ I invited her to join us, and the two of them hit it off. I left as soon as it was polite to do so.” She stopped and reflected for a moment. “Well, maybe a little before it was polite, but they definitely didn’t need me.”
“So let me get this straight. Your first date with Roger was actually…”
“Emily’s first date with Roger. Yeah, that’s been a running joke with us for years.”
Jake grimaced. Heather was so nonchalant about the experience, but Jake found it unsettling. Emily had to have known Heather was on a date with Roger. So how could she willingly engage her best friend’s date in flirtation?
Heather misinterpreted his frown.
“Gosh, Jake, I’m sorry. That was a really long time ago. Emily is not pining for Roger. I ran into her earlier, and she’s…she’s really happy that the two of you are back together and that you’re getting married.”
Jake’s brows furrowed. “Where did you hear that?”
“Emily,” Heather replied, her eyes nervously darting between the floor and Jake’s face. “I saw her earlier today. She told me.”
Jake’s jaw clenched. “Unbelievable.” He pulled the front door open and walked out onto the porch, leaning his hands against the railing and bending his body. Heather followed.
“I’m sorry. Was it supposed to be a secret? Because I accidentally told Eric, thinking that he knew.” Heather nervously bit at her lip. “I kinda wish you would’ve told me.” She spoke in such a small voice, one tinged with disappointment—or was that sadness?—it made Jake feel like his heart skipped a beat.
Taking a deep breath, he turned to look at Heather. For the first time, Jake could see the hint of sadness that he’d heard in her voice. Her blue eyes, while they normally twinkled, seemed to show resignation. Part of him—a rather large part—wanted to reach out to her, but reason won over, and Jake found himself clutching the banister instead.
“Heather, Emily and I are not getting married.”
The Gator that Heather talks about with Jake is a utility vehicle commonly used on ranches and farms. The following link will give you a clearer picture of exactly what one looks like.
http://www.deere.com/en_US/ProductCatalog/GC/servlet/com.deere.u90785.cce.productcatalog.view.servlets.ProdCatProduct?pNbr=1970W&tM=GC&link=enav
Terrell Davis was a star running back for the Denver Broncos who was known for getting injured. He retired in 2004.