Wouldn’t he?
The longer the silence stretched, the more worried she grew.
His gray eyes finally lifted to her. “My boss is assigning me a partner, Carrie.”
“Oh, that’s great,” she said, relaxing. “You work so hard. Maybe now you can…”
She trailed off as the words sank in. Oliver was getting a partner. Someone who would be with him for every sweep, every stop by her house. Someone who would know everything he was doing.
Including hiding thirty illegal citizens.
“Oh, no,” she breathed.
two
CARRIE STARED UP AT the tall patrolman, mind racing. Oliver came alone for government sweeps, and even then, he only searched the abandoned homes for stray vagrants. But if he had a partner, he’d have to search every single home, every single time. Government sweeps happened two or three times a month, which meant all thirty-four clansmen would have to pack up their belongings and crowd into May and CJ’s house, the only valid homeowners in the neighborhood, every time.
If Oliver got a partner, they were in serious trouble.
“Could your partner search our neighborhood anytime?” Carrie asked. “Even without a scheduled sweep?”
“Technically?” Oliver’s shoulders fell. “Yes.”
She felt ill. They’d have to post guards around the clock like they had that first year. Their entire lives could be thrown into upheaval—or destroyed—in a matter of seconds.
Carrie said the only thing she could think to say. “Oh.”
They stood on her driveway, him fingering his gun belt, her feeling ready to throw up.
“What does Greg think?” she asked. Greg would know what to do. He always did.
“He left before I could tell him.”
So she’d have to break the news to everyone.
One little hiccup, and things felt even more unstable in her secluded world.
“I’m sorry, Carrie,” Oliver said. “With this new promotion, I have a larger territory, and my boss thought I needed help. I don’t, but…well…yeah.”
“It’s fine. We’ll be fine,” she said. Besides, their safety was their concern. Not his.
He kicked the cement softly. “I’m not sure when I’ll be able to stop by and see you anymore either. It will be hard to get away.”
Thursdays, too? His visits had become part of her routine. He never stayed long, just long enough to warn her about the next sweep. The two of them would make small talk, talk about the weather if anything at all, and then he’d leave. Nothing special, but it had been every Thursday morning for five years.
Her stomach clenched. Jeff Kovach said this would happen.
So had Greg.
“If you reject him,” Greg had said, “he’ll promise to keep helpin’, but it’ll get harder and harder to see you. His visits will spread out until he disappears altogether. A guy like Oliver would rather be invisible than humiliated.”
Even if this had nothing to do with her choosing Greg, the timing could not have been worse.
“Beg if you have to,” Sasha said minutes ago.
“How soon?” Carrie asked.
“I’m not sure. With Jamansky and Nielsen’s arrests, we’re down a couple guys at the station,” Oliver said. “Chief Dario is desperate, so whenever he finds someone. Maybe as soon as next week. I…I’ll let you know before it happens, so don’t worry yet.”
“Yet?”
His forehead wrinkled. “Yeah. I’m really, really, really sorry, Carrie. Really sorry.”
She forced herself to smile. “Don’t be. We’ll be fine.” Physically, at least. She dreaded taking the blame for another thing, but they had at least a week to plan. They could come up with something by then.
Like around-the-clock guard duty?
Desperate for a different subject, she said, “The chickens are doing well. They’ve already lost their yellow down.”
“Oh. Good. The lady told me they would be good layers. I hope they are.”
Her smile faded. Oliver had bought her chickens for her birthday after his coworkers had wiped out their flock. She still couldn’t picture him asking some lady in some farm shop which chickens laid the best eggs, knowing he’d never eat a single one himself. Patrolmen didn’t need to raise chickens. They had government grocery stores. She couldn’t believe he’d go to all that trouble for her—especially after she chose the other guy.
Her eyes wandered across the street. Why had Greg left? She knew he had felt something more for her beyond friendship since. He’d basically admitted as much. But he kept insisting Oliver was better for her, a ridiculous notion that she hoped he’d give up soon.
Not yet, apparently.
Oliver leaned down to study her.
She turned and said quickly, “The trees are pretty, aren’t they? I miss seeing Downtown Shelton in the spring. Main Street was lined with these white flowering trees that seemed to go on forever. Every spring my mom and I made a special shopping trip to walk under their blossoms. You should see them. They’re breathtaking. Unless the government ripped them out.” She frowned up at him. “They didn’t tear the trees down, did they?”
“No. I actually saw them on the way here. They…uh…” He played with a gold button on his uniform. “They made me think of you.”
She froze.
Why was he doing this? Didn’t he know her heart was taken? She didn’t want to hurt Oliver. She had never even sought his attention.
“Carrie?” He cleared his throat. “Would you ever…I mean, would you want to maybe, to go see those trees? If you have time, I mean. We could, maybe, even go right now for a quick drive.”
“Now?”
He shrugged. “It wouldn’t take long.”
“But wouldn’t it be dangerous?” Ten years ago, a quick drive into her small town would mean nothing. Now the thought terrified her.
“No. I’m a senior officer now. No one should question me. But…I could write you a travel permit if it would make you more comfortable.”
Which might work if she had a citizenship card: yellow, blue, or green.
Sometimes she wondered if Oliver remembered how illegal she was. Even if he forged a citizenship card for her—any color—she’d only be allowed to travel between municipalities anyway, not take some leisurely drive. If anyone spotted her, they’d arrest her and throw her into a prison work camp until she could buy her citizenship back. A virtual life sentence. She could lose everything and everyone, but he acted like it was no big deal.
Maybe it was.
Maybe she understood President Rigsby’s card system less than she thought. She knew little of anything happening outside of her neighborhood except that she trusted Oliver Simmons.
And if he thought it was safe…
She leaned against his patrol car. The morning breeze blew her wavy hair around her face. Go for a drive. Leave the neighborhood. She hadn’t ridden in a car since the Collapse—she hadn’t even seen any other cars—but that’s not why she still hesitated.
It sounded like a date.
Oliver must have read her mind because he quickly amended, “Other people can come with us. Zach, Amber, and even”—he winced— “Greg.”
Greg couldn’t go because it would torture Oliver. But she didn’t want to go without Greg because it would torture her. Thankfully, Zach’s best friend, Tucker, came down the sidewalk with his brother, Chris. And not too far behind them was Richard O’Brien, a former accounting professor who agreed to teach Carrie’s small class of teenagers today.
“I would love to,” Carrie said, “but I have to teach school right now.”
Oliver turned and saw the group. “Right. Sorry. I forgot. Um…maybe we could go another day, like next week? Would that work?”
“Next week?”
Before she could think up another excuse, her front door burst open, and Zach shot out of the house. “What? Where are you guys going? Can I come? Can I?”
Oliver smiled down at Carrie’s thirtee
n-year-old brother. “I want to take Carrie downtown to see some trees in Shelton. If she says it’s okay, you can come, too.”
“Yes!” Zach punched the air. “I’d do anything to get out of this place. Did you hear that, Tucker? I’m leaving!”
Carrie shot him a warning look. “Zach, go back inside. I’ll be there in a second.”
“But—”
“Zach,” she said firmly.
Her little brother glared at her, a look he’d perfected from Amber. But he walked back inside, taking his friends with him.
“Good morning, you two,” Richard said, coming up from behind. “Nice to see you again, Officer Simmons.”
Oliver shook Richard’s hand. “Nice to see you, too, Mr. O’Brien.”
“Please, it’s Richard now,” Richard said warmly. Then he turned to Carrie. “Am I too early?”
“No,” she said. “We just need the girls. Maddie and Lindsey should be here any minute.”
Nodding, Richard joined the other teens inside. When Carrie had told her class that they were getting an accounting lesson, Amber had whined about how pointless it was to learn about money when they had none. But considering Zach didn’t know the difference between a nickel and a quarter, Carrie figured the lesson was long overdue. She still had hopes that these kids would get jobs—and a chance at a real life—someday.
“I’m in Joliet this weekend for training,” Oliver said. “Do you want to go next week, maybe Monday?”
For whatever reason, he really wanted her to see those flowering trees. She regretted bring them up.
“I can go Monday!” Zach called through the window. He and Tucker had their noses pressed to the screen.
The eagerness in their faces broke down the last of Carrie’s defenses. She smiled. “Monday would be great. Thank you, Oliver.”
Maybe if she asked May to join them—someone who would appreciate the spring colors—it wouldn’t look like a date, especially if she insisted that May sit in the front seat.
“Good. Great,” Oliver said, eyes bright with pleasure. “I’ll pick you up around 2:00, possibly 2:15. Is 2:15 okay?”
No one in their clan had a working clock. Carrie was lucky to know which day of the week—of the month—it was.
“That’s fine. How many people do you have room for?” she asked, reminding him—and herself—of the non-date-ness of this drive.
“Three besides you.”
Zach high-fived Tucker who had, no doubt, already conspired for the other spot. A quick drive might do them all some good. They’d been cooped up in Logan Pond long enough.
Amber’s two best friends were heading down the street, laughing and giggling. Six chatty teenagers were about to overtake Carrie’s house. If she didn’t nip it in the bud, she would never get them to calm down enough to listen to Richard.
“See you Monday, Oliver,” she said.
Oliver smiled another rare, genuine smile. “See you Monday, Carrie.”
He was still smiling as he drove away.
Before heading inside, Carrie glanced across the street. Had Greg watched the interchange? Would he be glad she agreed to go? Probably. But she couldn’t help feeling like she’d betrayed Greg somehow. The feeling intensified when she walked in and Richard, Greg’s new stepdad, gave her a quizzical look.
“I’m going with you on that drive,” Amber announced before Carrie could even shut the door. “I don’t care what you say.”
That got the other teens going, and the room broke out into a heated discussion. Carrie and Oliver were driving two miles into their deserted town to see some spring trees in bloom, and yet the teens nearly started a fist fight over who got the last spot. Carrie had no chance whatsoever to get her class back on task.
Or ask Greg to go.
three
AMBER KNOCKED THE CLAN signal on the Ziegler’s door. Unfortunately, Mrs. Ziegler answered.
“Braden isn’t home,” Mrs. Ziegler said.
No point beating around the bush. Amber liked that. She used to visit her best friends, Maddie and Lindsey, all the time, but since their dreamy older brother started paying attention to her, she and Mrs. Ziegler no longer pretended why she visited now.
“Do you know where he went?” Amber asked.
“He’s straining milk,” his mom said. “Or at least, he better be. He has a lot to do today.”
A veiled warning.
Mrs. Ziegler thought Amber distracted Braden from his jobs. However, Amber knew she just kept him entertained. Since Greg finished the well in her backyard a few weeks ago, her water chores had been cut in half. Luckily Carrie hadn’t replaced them. Besides, Braden was eighteen. An adult. Amber would be seventeen in the fall. It was time people stopped bossing them around.
“Thanks,” Amber said with a wave.
She strode down Woodland Drive, clutching Braden’s finished gift.
Come on. Be there, she begged silently. Love it. She grinned. Of course he would love her gift. What guy wouldn’t?
Amber found him straining goat’s milk behind May and CJ’s. His dad was turning dried manure into the garden. Braden’s back was to the well, and he didn’t hear her enter the gate, so she took a moment to appreciate the lines in his back, the strain of his shoulder muscles as he worked. His hair, a soft, sandy-blond, was on the long side, hanging down over his turquoise eyes. Now that Jenna Kovach was dead, their resident beautician, maybe Braden would let Amber cut his hair like Carrie had cut Greg’s.
Tiptoeing forward, she jumped out in front of him. “Boo!”
The bucket of goat’s milk nearly toppled. Righting it, his look of shock quickly melted into a crooked smile, showing off the adorable chip in his tooth.
“Hey,” Braden said. “What’s up?”
“I have a gift for you,” she said, sitting next to him. “Here.”
He turned her homemade gift every which way. “Wow. Thanks. Uh…what is it?”
“It’s a bracelet!”
His eyes widened. “A…bracelet?”
She giggled. “Don’t worry. It’s very manly. And this isn’t just any bracelet. I made it from my old red t-shirt. I have a matching one, see? Only mine is smaller and more girly.”
“Matching bracelets?”
“Yep!”
Mr. Ziegler snorted a laugh from the garden. Jerk. But when Amber turned back to Braden, she was all smiles.
“Want me to tie it on for you?” she asked.
“Right now?” Braden said. “Okay. Yeah. Sure.”
Draping the straining cloth over May’s well, Braden held out his wrist. Amber tied it on, letting her fingertips brush the muscles of his tanned forearms.
“Thanks, Amber,” he said, admiring it. “I actually like it.”
His dad coughed back another laugh which Amber ignored. Thankfully Braden did, too. He slid his hands into hers. Taking that as an invitation, she leaned into him, bringing her face closer to his.
“You really like it?” she whispered outwardly, while the inside of her shouted, Kiss me! He still hadn’t. He’d held her hand, flirted like crazy, so why wouldn’t he kiss her?
Maybe my breath? she wondered. Carrie found mint leaves in the woods only a few weeks of the year, but other couples in the clan kissed all year long.
Amber tipped her chin up in invitation. His light beard was shorter than others in the clan, and she was dying to know what it would feel like against her cheek.
Through his long bangs, she saw his gaze drop to her lips.
Yes! she cheered. Do it!
His dad stopped raking and cleared his throat loudly.
Braden dropped Amber’s hands and leaned away. “Uh, I should get back to work.”
Amber glared at Mr. Ziegler. Braden’s parents were worse than Carrie. But Braden went back to work, so she sat next to him and chatted away, keeping him entertained.
Only a few minutes later, she felt cold sprinkles on her shoulder.
“Rain!” she said, jumping up and running under the safety of M
ay’s roof. “Come on. It’s raining.”
“It’s just sprinkling,” Braden said. “Don’t be such a baby.”
Baby? Is that why he hadn’t kissed her? Maybe he didn’t consider her old enough. Pretty enough. Anything enough. Her bottom lip jutted out, which only made him laugh.
“You think you’re safe under there, water girl?” He flicked well water on her. A lot of water.
Amber yelped and backed against May’s house. He flung more water from the bucket. She was about ready to dump the whole water bucket on his stupid head. She hated waiting for her clothes to dry. But before she could yell at him, Mr. Ziegler trotted over.
“Braden, I need to deliver the milk to Sasha and the boys before the rain really starts. Finish cleaning up here.” He eyed Amber before continuing. “Don’t get distracted. It’s going to downpour any minute.”
“I’ll help him clean up,” Amber offered.
Mr. Ziegler rolled his eyes but left. Considering Amber was best friends with their three children, Braden’s parents should adore her. They used to. Maybe when she and Braden were married with their own kids, they would have a change of heart.
More sprinkles fell from the sky.
“Let’s go,” Amber said.
Braden set the goat stuff aside and joined her under the roof. “Wait. I have a gift for you.”
“Really? What is it?”
He put his finger to his lips and looked around to see if anyone was watching. No one was, but that didn’t stop him from being careful. He was always careful. Too careful.
Leaning down, he whispered in her ear, so close the heat of his breath sent shivers down her damp arms, “It’s on the side of the house. You might get wet. Do you mind?”
All that was on the side of May and CJ’s house was stacked wood and smelly buckets of chicken food scraps, but she would have followed Braden Ziegler anywhere. Hurricane. Typhoon. So she lied.
“I don’t mind.”
Squeezing her hand, he pulled her alongside the brick under the small foot of space where the roof hung over the house. Amber tried to figure out what he might have hidden over there for her. A flower? A necklace? And Maddie thought the bracelet was a stupid idea.
Citizens of Logan Pond Box Set Page 42
