Not a Drop to Drink (20 page)

Lynn found his hand with hers. “Follow me,” she said, and led him to Lucy’s cot by the fire. “You can sleep here.”

“Wait.” His hand squeezed hers. “Who said that’s the end of the backrub?”

Lynn snorted in the dark. “There’s not room for both of us in there.”

“We’ll make it work.” He tugged on her in the dark, and she hesitated. “I don’t want anything from you, but I’m not ready to let go yet.”

She wordlessly climbed into the cot. Eli slipped his shirt off and slid in beside her, snaking one arm around her rib cage. Lynn had expected to tense up again, with the feeling of his skin so close to hers, the entire length of their bodies. But instead she relaxed and leaned into him.

“You can think of it as heat conservation, if it makes you feel more practical,” Eli said in her ear and she giggled. She laid against him for a while in silence, enjoying the thud of his heart against her eardrum, the companionable tangle of their legs. The small differences in their bodies were fascinating to her; the rasping of his stubble against her cheek, the bony outcrops of his knuckles, so much more prominent than her own. She ran her thumbs over them, surprised at how strong his hands had become in the short time since she had met him. Her fingers strayed up his arms to the muscles that had developed there, tracing the lines of his veins.

Long nights spent alone in her bed had not prepared her for the intimacy of lying with him, no matter how comfortable. His hands were doing their own exploring and her breath caught in her throat.

Eli broke the silence. “So . . . I’m not used to asking for permission, but I don’t want to get shot either.”

“Permission for what?”

“A kiss.”

“Oh, sure,” Lynn said offhand, surprised that such a small thing had made him uncomfortable. She leaned forward and gave him a quick peck on his cheek; Mother’s ultimate show of affection that had followed her down into sleep on the rare occasions.

“Uh, that’s not quite what I meant,” Eli said.

“What then? That’s how Mother always kissed me.”

Eli’s arms tightened around her. “I’m not going to kiss you like your mother. C’mere.”

His hand tightened in her hair, and Lynn was surprised when he brought his mouth to hers. Then pleased. He moved against her and she quickly understood that body heat could be made and not just conserved.

He pulled away from her. “Okay, that’s enough—or I’m going to have to throw myself into a snowbank.”

“Why’s that?”

Eli tucked her head under his chin. “I’ll explain some other time.”

“Fair enough.” Lynn settled in against him.

Eli stroked her hair for few minutes more before speaking. “Earlier, when you asked about Neva, I meant to tell you she made something for me to bring Lucy as a present.”

“Yeah?” Lynn waited for him to continue, irritated that Neva had come up in conversation yet again.

“She tried to make some kind of doll out of dried grass and sticks, but when I picked it up, it fell apart. Neva went to bed and cried. She said she has nothing to offer her little girl.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Maybe, but I kinda know how she feels. I almost didn’t come over here today for the same reasons. I didn’t . . . I wasn’t supposed to be the one in charge when we left the city, you know. Bradley was the strong one, the smart one, the one who knew what to do. We got out here and I could barely keep them alive. I’m learning but I still don’t have much to offer, especially to you.”

Lynn nestled her head underneath his chin. “You survived. You kept them both alive. You’re doing something right.”

“And I found you,” he added. “That’s pretty right, I think.”

“I think so too,” she said quietly, the sound of his heartbeat loud in her ear.

And they slept.

Lynn woke to the sound of Eli loading wood in the stove, the soft morning light rendering the basement the same gray as his eyes.

“I can do that,” she said.

“I know you can,” Eli answered, but kept loading it anyway.

She moved to the edge of the bed, where the pillow still smelled like him, and decided to lie there a few more minutes. He’d already dressed in his heavier clothes and was rubbing his hands against the chill of the basement. She burrowed farther under the covers, indulging herself in an unaccustomed lack of responsibility.

“Gets cold down here quick, once the fire goes low,” Eli said.

“Yeah, mornings can be chilly. Does your place hold heat okay?”

“I’ve got no complaints.” He shut the door to the stove and Lynn watched him for a moment, glad that she no longer had to hide her interest. He returned her gaze and smiled. “Do you ever wonder what it’s like somewhere else?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like somewhere without subzero winters?”

“Mother would talk about going south sometimes,” Lynn said. “But I never wanted to.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause then we’d be like any other wanderers, carrying the only water you have and hoping you find more before long.”

“You’d rather have your pond and tough out the winters?”

“Much rather.”

Eli nodded. “When we left the city I was terrified, and we had a destination in mind. I can’t imagine walking without a goal.”

“How long were you out there, before you found the stream?”

“Weeks. Maybe even a month. I tried to keep track of the days but pretty soon I was measuring time more by how big Nev’s belly was getting, not in sunrises.”

“See many people out there?”

“Mostly it was just gunshots, some of them aimed at our feet. Although one whizzed right by my ear. No shout, nothing. Just a bullet coming for my head. I didn’t even know we were close to somebody’s water.”

Lynn could see it. Eli slogging through the last of the falling leaves at an incredibly slow pace so that Neva could keep up. Lucy probably trailing behind because of her swollen feet, maybe looking for grasshoppers as she went. And then a gunshot . . . Lynn recoiled as if she’d pulled the trigger herself. “Most people will at least give you a warning shot, like the ones you had—the ones aimed at your feet.”

“But not everybody.”

“No, not everybody.” Lynn got out of bed, put on her warmer clothes, and started a pot of coffee.

“That’s tempting,” Eli said, watching her. “But I should probably go. Neva will be worried if she wakes up and I’m not back.”

“Right,” Lynn said, focusing on the pot of water. “Do you ever . . . hold her like that? Like with me last night?”

“No,” Eli said immediately. “It’s not like that between us. I’m boy enough to know she’s beautiful, and man enough to know she’ll always be my brother’s wife.”

Lynn smiled at his honesty. “I had to ask.”

Eli opened his mouth to answer her but there was a pounding on the door. Lynn grabbed her handgun and went up the stairs. Seconds later, Lucy came bouncing down. “Hey, Uncle Eli!”

Lynn followed more slowly with Stebbs on her tail. “Hey, Uncle Eli indeed,” he said wryly, looking between the two younger people. “Would it be naïve of me to assume that you left late last night and came back early this morning?”

Lynn blushed and began making up the cot, then realized she was bringing attention to the fact that there was only one cot to be made. “Don’t start,” she said tightly to Stebbs.

“As much as I’d love to spend the morning teasing you, I’ve got a serious question for you both.”

Lynn stopped making the bed. “What is it?”

“How long has it been since either one of you saw smoke to the south?”

“Weeks, easy,” Lynn answered quickly, having checked every morning.

Eli glanced at her, thinking. “I don’t remember any recently, but to be honest I don’t always look.”

“I’m with you,” Stebbs said to Lynn. “It’s been a while, and nothing’s surviving without heat in this weather.”

“You think they’re gone?”

“Gone or dead.”

Eli leaned back in his chair. “I feel like shit for saying so, but that’s a relief.”

“It’s a relief, period,” Lynn said as she tried to place the unfamiliar feeling of contentment and warmth that had spread through her chest at the sight of the people she cared about gathered safely under her roof.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

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Sixteen

L
ynn couldn’t remember a winter that had been so content. The plentiful snowfall meant that there was no need to break the ice on the pond to gather water. When they were thirsty, Lynn and Lucy gathered snow in buckets and warmed it on the stove, or ate it in frozen mouthfuls, after pelting each other with it first.

With the threat from the south removed, Lynn joined Lucy on the ground and showed her the different tracks in the snow. Deer and raccoon, the occasional flying leaps of a squirrel that left a sporadic, clumsy trail. The padded track of the coyotes that had been making appearances again. Lucy learned fast and wanted to know more. Lynn taught her how to distinguish the different birdcalls of the hardier birds that stayed for the winter, and how to make a grunt call with her cupped hands to attract bucks.

Lucy was thriving, her thin arms and legs now stocky with muscle from fighting her way through the snowdrifts in search of her next adventure. Lynn followed her, plowing after the little footprints and warning her off the icy pond on the warmer days. They made the occasional trip to Stebbs’, though it made Lynn anxious to go. Lucy told her no one wanted a pond that was frozen solid, and they agreed to only be gone a little while. Lynn found her worries melting away once in Stebbs’ comforting presence, and they usually stayed long past her time limit.

Eli visited often, making the arduous trek from the stream even on the coldest of days. Lucy would shower him with attention for a while after he showed up, then be distracted by something new, leaving them to talk privately and hold each other’s gloved hands. Eli’s visits were short by necessity. Neva liked some moments alone, but her fear of the wilderness didn’t allow those moments to stretch into hours.

“There’s a fine line between enjoying some alone time and just being downright lonely,” Eli said as they trailed in Lucy’s wake one snowy afternoon.

“Do you think she needs Lucy back?” Lynn asked, even though she wasn’t ready to make the offer. “I don’t want Neva to hate me, but I want what’s best for Lucy.”

“Right now—and I hate to say this—being with Neva is not it,” Eli answered. “She’s not entirely stable. She carries that gun that you gave her inside her bra.”

“That hardly makes her unstable,” Lynn said, letting go of his hand to pat the sidearm she had tucked into her coverall’s pocket. “It’s common sense.”

“Maybe for a girl like you it is, but Neva hadn’t even seen a gun until we got here. Now she sleeps with one?”

Lynn shrugged off his concerns, and they walked quietly hand in hand for a while. “Do you think she’d come over here? Maybe she’d leave the stream now that the men from the south are gone.”

“It’s possible. I can ask.”

“Stebbs says there’s a warm spell coming. Maybe then?”

“Maybe.” Eli squeezed Lynn’s hand and stopped her in her tracks. He held her face in his hands for a moment, tucking stray strands of hair back under her cap. “Can we stop talking about Neva for just a minute?”

Lynn agreed with a smile and leaned forward for her kiss.

A small voice taunted them in the distance. “Lynn and Eli sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

Eli turned to her, his voice rolling over the snowdrifts. “Do you even know what that spells, brain wave?”

“Uh . . . I think it spells that you’re in love.”

“Hmm . . .” Eli turned back to Lynn, his hands still on her face. “She might be onto something.”

Lucy popped up beside them. “Can I have hot chocolate?”

“Race ya!” Eli challenged Lucy and they started for the house at a dead run that turned into a rolling ball of clothing when Lucy took him out at the knees. Lynn followed more slowly, noting the muted edges of the drifts. The snow was melting, imperceptibly at first, but it was going. Soon the spring would bring warm temperatures, mud everywhere, and a high water mark in the pond due to runoff.

For the moment, life was good.

Though she knew spring was close, the nights were still long and Lynn’s dreams were not as pleasant as her days. Sleep came easily but didn’t last long. After one nightmare, Lynn woke with Mother on her mind. Lucy’s even breathing filled the room, and she envied the little girl her deep sleep and innocent dreams. She unwrapped her legs from the sheets, pulled her boots and coat on, and silently slipped up the basement stairs and out the back door.

There was no moon. The utter blackness of the outdoors descended upon her and swallowed all her thoughts, leaving her aware only of her surroundings and what could hide in it. She unshouldered her rifle and sat on the stone step, grateful for the familiar worries of something she could control. Lucy’s sleeping form, curled and content, slipped through her mind and she tightened her grip on the rifle, eyes roaming the black expanse of the night.

Her eyes drifted to the south from habit, where a pale glow made the tree line of Stebbs’ woods visible. “What the hell?” Lynn was so taken aback that she spoke aloud, her words trickling away into the night.

She thought for a second that she had worried away the entire night, but the sun wouldn’t be rising in the south, and the glow she saw there wasn’t the natural pink streaks of the morning. It was a sickly yellow, its pale aura reaching only past the stark black of Stebbs treetops, and shedding light no farther.

Lynn studied it with a grim face, her mouth tight. She clicked the rifle safety off, all traces of fatigue stolen from her in a breath. This light was unfamiliar and strange.

Which meant it was dangerous.

Stebbs appeared on the horizon a few days later, his limping trail snaking behind him. Lucy had learned quickly how to spot his track, the telltale drag of his injured foot left an easily distinguishable pattern in the snow. For weeks in the dead of winter, he had created crisscross paths in the snow, making a game for her to find the right one that ended with him, and a bear hug. She ran toward him the second she spotted him, abandoning Lynn to the task of scraping ice off the doorstep alone.