Gwen chewed her lip, warring with the desire to remain at Loomis’s side. Before she could reluctantly volunteer herself for Tommy Boy’s team, Loomis spoke.
“You take the boys. They’ll both be useless to Cara, and Kevin can practice his writing.” She glanced back at their wagons, seeing both boys fidgeting with excitement, oblivious to Cara setting up a space for their tents. “Give Kevin the notebook and pencil. Terry can scrounge and check his penmanship.” That met with Tommy Boy’s approval, and soon the scavenger hunt began.
“Oh, excellent.” Loomis grinned as she stared at the storefront before them. “I wish I’d brought my rifle.”
“Why?” Gwen carefully wrote down the address in the notebook as Loomis tried the locked door.
Loomis pulled a crowbar from the satchel on her shoulder. “It’s a camping goods store. There’s bound to be hunting gear too. Shells for the shotgun and rounds for the rifles.” She tapped the glass door, the shatter loud in the abandoned street. It tinkled as she cleared a space to safely reach the locking mechanism and opened it. Gwen entered behind her. The front of the store held clothing and a line of sleeping bags hanging from the wall. A display in the front window showed a number of styles of hiking boots, and a small display case of pocketknives. From there, the interior became murky with dusty darkness. “Light the lamp so we can see what we’ve got here.”
Unslinging the hurricane lamp from her shoulder, Gwen used one of the precious matches they’d scrounged from their McAdam house. She set the cover in place and held it up, illuminating the rest of the store. Loomis was already at the back counter, rummaging behind it, and Gwen passed a rack of backpacks and tents and camp stoves to get to her.
“Yes!” Loomis held up a box of .22 rounds. She reached for Gwen’s lamp and peered into the cabinet beneath the useless cash register. “Quite a bit, too, all different calibers.” She stared speculatively at the box in her hand before thrusting it into her satchel. “Finder’s fee.”
“Duh.” Gwen grinned.
Loomis smirked. “Let’s check the back.”
Gwen followed Loomis into the gloom. Just as she entered the back room, she saw a shadow flash across the store. She paused, looking back out at the street. Across the way another pair of searchers had just broken into an electronics store. Nothing else moved within her vision. She frowned, the hair on the back of her neck rising in reaction.
“Gwen, come on. I can’t see back here.”
Shaking her head, Gwen dismissed her fears. This was Cascade, not the city. There were no marauding bands of children willing to kill for the smallest scrap of food. She turned away and stepped into the back storeroom to light Loomis’s way.
***
At sunset, Loomis and Gwen returned to the town square. Things had changed considerably in their absence. The place resembled the Festival camping field now. Tents littered the grounds, spilling out into the street, while carts and wagons had been pulled to the outside of the gathering. A picket line had been set up on the south side with volunteers set to keep watch against any unwanted wildlife that might think the horses and oxen were a free meal.
By far the best find they’d had was the camping store. In addition, they’d found a small grocery, a candy shop and an art gallery. The salvageable material was mostly in the grocery, but even that wasn’t much. It had been looted before the former Cascade residents had left for parts unknown. The candy store had been trashed, and several hard winters and rodents had destroyed most of the remaining stock. Still, there were plenty of household implements. The gallery must have belonged to a sculptor as they’d discovered a wealth of wood-carving tools. That would set someone up handsomely in the future. The campsite was abuzz with what the teams had discovered during their search. Someone had found a liquor store with a few remnant bottles, and Walker had authorized an initial raid of its contents. Several bottles of whiskey, rum and vodka floated through the camp as night fell.
After a potlatch dinner cobbled together from the few remaining Cascade food sources and what the community had brought with them, Walker called everyone to a meeting in the center of the park. Loomis scooped up a campstool and a sheepskin, she grinned at Gwen, hooking an arm through hers, and they found places to set up in the crowd. She indicated Gwen should sit on the stool, and tossed the sheepskin to the ground at her feet, settling back against Gwen’s legs. A box of rounds, a cornucopia of goods to replenish Lindsay Crossing, and a beautiful woman to share it with—life couldn’t get much better.
“This meeting is called to order.” As everyone settled down, Walker grinned. “Most of the businesses have been checked out, and it looks like we’re sitting on the motherlode.” He held out his hand to quiet their cheers. “While the teams were out having a look at things, I had a few people checking the homes. Looks like we’ve got nine hundred or more places around here.” Another round of applause interrupted him. “That breaks out to twenty-five houses a homestead.”
Loomis did the math in her head to be sure Tommy Boy wasn’t being slighted. She grinned and winked at Gwen, leaning into a caress before turning back to Walker.
“Now there ain’t no way we’ll get all these goods back home in one trip, we know that. Our first priority is the commercial district. We’ll schedule at least two more runs before the end of the season, but the houses are your own to deal with.”
“One house, one family?” someone called out.
“No. We don’t know if the pass will hold for years on end, and let’s be honest, folks. There’s no guarantee these places will be standing twenty-five years from now with no one to take care of them.” He scratched at his beard. “No, we figure you all now know you have twenty-five houses to draw from. Take ’em at your leisure.” He had to speak up to be heard over the noise of others speaking. “Just remember, mark the houses like you mark the ones in McAdam.”
Loomis felt a nudge from Gwen’s knee, and looked up.
“Was that from you?”
She shrugged, seeing no reason to deny her manipulations. Over the last month she’d come to terms with her skill, knowing she used it for the greater good. “Yeah. It’s too big a trip to do on a regular basis. The sooner we clean it out, the sooner we can return to normal life.” Gwen leaned down and kissed her. Loomis had no idea what she’d done to deserve it, and didn’t bother to question the gesture.
Kipfer had pulled an old freestanding blackboard into the firelight. It looked like it could have come from one of the schools or an antique store. Scrawled in chalk was a list of the day’s findings with numbers and stars next to some. Walker stood and went to the board. “This is the list of places we’ve found so far. We’ve figured out which ones were most important, and we’ll start them tomorrow. I want the majority of us to work in three teams. We’ll do a full inventory of goods, load them up, and get ’em home. They can be divvied up when we get back.”
“What about the twenty-five houses?”
Walker grinned, his teeth flashing in the light. “I got a box of spray paint from the general store. We’ve got a good hundred people here right now. Ain’t no reason why we can’t let thirty-six of you scrounge and mark your homes.”
The audience murmured in pleasure. Loomis looked over at Tommy Boy standing tall a little ways away from her, arms crossed over his chest. He wouldn’t know the first thing about which houses to pick for decent survival materials. “Hey, T.” He looked at her and stepped closer, hunkering down beside her. “Do you trust me?”
He stared at her, eyes narrowing in the faint firelight as he considered her question. Loomis felt Gwen’s hand on her shoulder, caressing. Tommy Boy shot a glance up at Gwen, and Loomis wondered what he saw there. He returned his attention to her and nodded. “Yeah. You ain’t done me wrong since we come to you.”
Loomis smiled, pleased. From him, his trust was a gift of magnitude. “You go with the rest to load up the business district tomorrow. Let me pick your twenty-five houses.” She saw an unreadable flicker in his ex
pression. “I know what kinds of places to look for that’ll get you a good deal. You know I won’t short you—your need is greater than ours.” She cocked her head. “I just want to make sure you have the best start possible.” Her reward was Gwen’s hand easing into her hair at the nape of her neck, and she forced herself not to shiver at the erotic touch.
Tommy Boy frowned in consideration before giving her a grudging nod. “A’ight.” He held out his hand. She shook it, slipping into the gang sign greeting with practiced ease. He stood and walked back to his viewpoint.
Fingers tugged her hair, and Loomis looked up at Gwen. She smiled as Gwen leaned close, closing her eyes as those sweet lips caressed hers in the darkness. Someone sniggered nearby despite the ongoing discussion keeping most everyone’s attention on Walker, and Loomis ignored it. She’d decided that the town had already heard most of her dirty laundry over the years; she’d be damned if she’d hide this. Besides, Weasel’s worsening attitude stirred something inside her. She couldn’t let him think he had any kind of say in her life or her town. Escalating the kiss, she turned slightly and brought a hand up to bury in Gwen’s hair. After several luxurious moments, she pulled away.
“Thank you.” Gwen leaned her forehead against Loomis’s, a whisper touch upon Loomis’s lips.
“Didn’t do it for you, but if this is how I get thanked, I’ll do it again.” She smiled at Gwen’s breathless giggle, getting another quick kiss.
“Marissa Loomis, you just wait until I get you into our tent. I can think of a game or two to play.”
“Promises, promises.” Loomis gave her a final peck before turning back to the meeting. She relaxed into Gwen’s touch, mind far from the sacking of Cascade and Weasel’s menace.
Chapter Thirty-One
Loomis collected her notebook from the day before and stepped out of the tent. Gwen, Tommy Boy, Kevin and Lucky had all been assigned to a team loading up the hardware store. Most people were already off doing the same, leaving the campsite with the bare minimum of people to keep away roving animals attracted by the smells of food.
Cara looked up from the thermos she filled by the fire. “You want to pack anything with you for lunch, or are you going to check in?”
“Probably check in.” Loomis noted Al Hansen climbing aboard a nag. As he cursed at the animal for not moving fast enough, she turned back to her cousin. “Just to be safe.” She accepted the thermos with a grin of thanks. “I don’t plan on doing any more than a cursory scan, but you know how it is.”
“Where you heading?”
Loomis opened up the map, holding it for Cara to get a look. “I told Tommy I’d be in this area. If I remember right, it was a working-class neighborhood, not summer people. Should be a lot of tools and the like there.”
Cara nodded in agreement. “Okay. I’ll keep that in mind. Don’t make me send a rescue squad after you.”
Snorting, Loomis folded her map, tucking it into her hip pocket. “As if.” She stood, thermos in hand, and walked to Tempest who seemed much happier in a saddle than a yoke.
“Loomis.”
The hesitant tone was unfamiliar coming from Cara. “What?”
Cara pursed her lips, eyes darting around their immediate vicinity. “This thing with Gwen…”
Loomis ducked her head. It had been a long time coming—a whole month—but Cara apparently felt comfortable enough to finally say something about the deepening relationship Gwen and Loomis enjoyed. Loomis finished shoving the thermos into Tempest’s saddlebag. “What about it?”
“Are you sure it’s the right thing? For you, I mean.”
Smiling, Loomis went to Cara, clasping her upper arms. “Sometimes I wonder the same, but I think so.”
Cara grimaced. “But…a woman? Really?”
Loomis laughed. “Ask Annie Faber who and where was her first kiss.” She chuckled at Cara’s befuddled expression, and leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek. Whispering, she said, “Behind the horse barn the summer of Orphan Maker with me.”
She left a stunned Cara and mounted Tempest. “Close that mouth, woman, before the flies get in.” Then she guided her horse out of the encampment.
***
Gwen looked up from the overflowing shopping cart she’d appropriated for her task. She’d been instructed to systematically strip this aisle with a handful of others, and it was about time to unload it into the next available wagon waiting at the front of the hardware store. “I’ll be right back.” She received a nod from the townie nearest her as she pushed the cart toward the front of the store.
The sun was high and bright, making her wince as she shoved the cart over the jamb of the door. A pair of people were lined up in front of her with a wheelbarrow of goods, another before them unloading into the wagon. She gladly waited her turn, enjoying the fresh air and sunshine while she could. Glancing down the street, she saw Tommy Boy at the camping goods store she and Loomis had searched the day before. She smiled and waved, but he didn’t see her. A frown chased away the smile as she spotted Weasel coming up the street. She wondered why he wasn’t working with the rest of them. Even Walker was involved, loading crates of goods from the same store where Gwen toiled. It wasn’t like Weasel had a homestead to be tagging houses for, right? He just had that house in town he’d moved into. Was he planning on starting his own homestead of Gatos? It was a valid possibility, though she hadn’t heard any of her former family discussing it.
Weasel called Tommy Boy, interrupting his re-entry to the camping goods store. The wheelbarrow in front of Gwen moved, and she absently pushed her shopping cart forward, keeping her attention on the meeting across the street. Weasel pulled Tommy Boy away from the others. He seemed angry, unyielding, speaking with the set of jaw that Gwen recognized even at this distance. Tommy Boy was in deep shit with Weasel for some reason, and Gwen had a good idea why. Living with Loomis had made Tommy Boy and his family the enemy in Weasel’s eyes, a traitor. As he took Tommy Boy to task, leaning in to speak as he glared at the taller man, Gwen wondered what he was saying. Whatever it was infuriated Tommy Boy who stood taller, chest out, arms loose at his side in preparation of an attack. What the hell is going on?
“Hey.”
Gwen turned to see the wheelbarrow had been unloaded, and she was next. She pushed forward and began emptying the shopping cart into waiting hands while trying to keep an eye on the proceedings across the street. In the process, she dropped a handful of tools on someone’s foot, earning a shout and a curse from the man to whom she’d handed them. She silently swore and apologized. By the time she could refocus on the impromptu meeting, Tommy Boy was glaring down the street, and Weasel was out of sight. She left the cart at the store entrance, trotting across the street to catch Tommy Boy before he went back inside. “What’s going on? What did Weasel want?”
He glared down at her, still mad.
“Come on, T! What did he say?”
Tommy Boy’s jaw worked as he stared over her head in thought. He looked back the way Weasel had gone. “He wanted me to arrange an accident.”
Gwen studied him a moment, confused. “An accident?” She felt faint as she comprehended his words. Grabbing his upper arm, she shook him. “For Loomis?”
“Yeah.” He shook his head. “I told him no yesterday. Way I see it, she ain’t done me or mine any harm. Gangsta ways are dead and gone. I don’t owe him nothing.” He spat into the street. “I got to trust her to do me right, and I got to do the same by her.”
She let him go, searching for signs of Weasel on the street. “Where’d he go?”
He turned and pointed. “Left on the corner. I think he’s going to see if he can find her.”
Shit! Would Weasel just want to fight Loomis, or kill her? Who fucking knew? He’d been acting so weird since they’d arrived in Lindsay Crossing. It was anybody’s guess which way he’d jump. He no longer led with an iron fist, didn’t have someone close to ease the loss of no longer being in control. Gwen looked down at the .9mm pistol in Tommy Boy’
s waistband. “Give me the gun.”
“Aw, girl. You don’t want to—”
“Give me the damned gun, T!” He handed it over without another word. Gwen popped the magazine, checked the ammunition, reloaded and ensured there was a round in the chamber. “I have to find Loomis.” She paused to look at him. “You can stay here or grab some hands. I know she was planning to head into the southwest part of town today.”
Tommy Boy nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Gwen backed away, still talking as she moved. “Walker’s in the hardware store. Tell him what’s going on.”
“Got it.”
She turned and dashed away, turning left at the corner. She had to find Loomis before Weasel did.
***
Loomis easily kicked the sagging fence down, sliding into the backyard. So far, she’d found three houses for Tommy Boy and one for her homestead. She’d seen two other stead holders in this neighborhood. Time was of the essence. It was a shame only one person was allowed to locate private property per family unit. Terry had an excellent eye when it came to locating just the right sort of house that would yield decent wares. He would have been good to have along. She checked the back door, finding it unlocked, and carefully opened it. The windows were grimy but let in enough light for her to see a good-sized country kitchen. Nodding to herself, she stepped inside, mindful of where she placed her feet. She’d taken a tumble through rotten floorboards in the last place.
Several minutes later, she unlocked the front door and left the house. Reaching into her satchel, she pulled out the neon orange spray paint and shook it with a clatter loud enough to scare sparrows out of a nearby tree. She covered her face as she sprayed “Garcia” across the door, mindful to keep upwind of the worst of the paint fumes. Twenty feet away, Tempest snorted in equal distaste and Loomis grinned back at him. “It’s nasty, isn’t it?” He shook his head, mane flopping, and she laughed. “Come on, fella. Let’s find the next one.”
Orphan Maker Page 25
