._ ._.. ._ _ ._ _._ _ ... ._.. _ _ _ ..._ . (Always Love)
Title: ._ ._.. ._ _ ._ _._ _ ... ._.. _ _ _ ..._ . (Always Love)
Characters: Beck, Heather, OCs
Rating: PG
Chapters: 2/?
Notes: Un-betad, all mistakes are my own. :)
There had been a week or two of peace after Edward Beck broke his allegiance to Cheyenne. In that time, we learned that Jake and Robert Hawkins had made it to Texas and that Texas had sided with the United States against the ASA. A week after that, we found out that Colonel Hoffman, still allied with the ASA, had died in the battle of Kansas City. U.S. troops had surged across the Mississippi from Missouri, taking the city practically overnight. More astonishing was how quickly all of Oklahoma came back into U.S. control. Others were less impressed, pointing out that they were bordered by Texas and the U.S. on two sides. And during that time, we learned that the U.S. had promoted Beck up two ranks to Colonel.
I think he would have rather stayed a Major. Stayed a Major who knew where his family was, that had a country that was united and whole. I think we all wished for the unattainable at one point or another during those first few months of the civil war.
Kansas became a whole different matter. Bleeding Kansas. A phrase that hadn’t been used since before the first civil war came back into use. The U.S. troops, cocky from their victory in Kansas City, fought door to door and street to street in Overland Park and then again in Olanthe as they attempted to push west along the I-70 and southwest along the I-35. Soon they and the ASA troops became bogged down in the struggles for control. Thousands had died, we heard. It was only a matter of time we thought till the war came to us and we prepared the best we could -- New Bern turning out munitions around the clock, Jericho stockpiling what foodstuffs it could.
About a month later, the war crept up on us like a beast, stealthily and craven, in the night. Up until that point, we had been spared. Later, some would say it had been a miracle for us to have had peace for as long as we did.
It was the night after the destruction of New Bern that I decided to find Edward’s family. Believe me, there was more than one little voice in my head arguing that I had lost it. I admitted to myself that I was attracted to him early on. Probably even before I stole that survey page from his office. Which made my guilt at the time over doing it that much worse. I so wanted to trust him. Heck, my gut was screaming to trust him. But my head convinced me it would be the less prudent thing to do. What if I gambled and lost, it reasoned. What if I gambled, won, but someone got hurt or even killed in the process? Then what? No, my brain stated, Beck was still too much of a variable to be counted on at that point.
So I stole the page out of the office and guilt gnawed at me in my weaker moments for a long time after. Yeah, it was the right thing to do. I know that. My trust in Jake was never in question, regardless of what passed between us, or didn’t. Jake wouldn’t lie to me. But if I had any other way of doing it, I would have.
And when Beck confronted me, I stood up and took my licks. And the guilt twisted its way around my gut that much more. But I was angry too. About ready to “spit bullets” as Emily would say. He was a good man, despite his flaws. I couldn’t believe he was that blind. Which meant he had to be scared, too scared to admit that Cheyenne was rotten to the core.
So I told him so.
Looking back, I realize it wasn’t the most diplomatic thing to say. When you’re angry, though, you tend not to think about diplomacy.
Wow. You’d have thought he had been slapped. Good, I thought, because I really, really wanted to slap some sense into him. Apparently nobody else was going to, so I took upon myself.
Him locking me up was the obvious answer that he didn’t appreciate my sentiment.
I don’t think I’ve ever prayed as hard in my life as I did when I was sitting in that jail cell. I’m not going to lie, I was afraid for myself. I was terrified for him, though.
God, I prayed, I know the truth, but please let Beck figure it out before anyone else gets hurt. Please.
I lost track of time. I hadn’t noticed the shifting of shadow and light across the cell or the soldier standing before the bars for some moments.
The door squeaked open.
“You’re free to go,” he said.
As I walked, a sense of peace came over me. With every footfall, assurance that my prayers had been answered grew stronger. By the time I walked into Beck’s office, I was biting my cheek to keep from smiling.
He did what was right. My faith hadn’t been misplaced.
I didn’t make him any promises that day. Just stood by him and offered my support. My guilt didn’t disappear that day, but at least it had lifted some of its weight off my spirit.
I hadn’t even heard the battle of New Bern as I slept that night. A-10s swept in just after midnight and destroyed the munitions factory. But the ASA wanted New Bern to suffer for its rebellion. They bombed the little town till the main street was non-existent. Not one tree, leaf, bud, no blade of grass was left.
And I was too busy the next morning mitigating a deal out on the Richmond farm to find out what happened in New Bern. A refugee named Miller from Tucson wanted to farm a section of Stanley’s and Mimi’s fields with native southwest seeds. Apparently most of the southwest that he’d been through so far had very little arable land left due to the fallout from Denver and Phoenix, and to a smaller extent, from San Diego and Los Angeles.
Stanley was having second thoughts about planting it since most of the seeds consisted of different types of pepper.
He had made a face when he looked into the largest bag labeled corn.
“It’s blue!” Stanley said in exasperation. Mimi walked up next to him and slid her hand into the top of the bag.
“Blue corn!” she laughed. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had blue corn tortilla chips?” She turned to him with a smile.
Miller seized the opportunity.
“Oh, I’ve got recipes for that and lots of salsa recipes for the peppers. And marinades, and rubs, and -“
Mimi waved a hand and Miller ceased. She and Stanley looked at one another for a moment, having an unspoken conversation. Finally, Stanley gave her the lightest of smiles.
“How many acres would you need, Mr. Miller?” he asked.
I think at that point, I took a sigh of relief. Miller was so happy he looked like he could do a jig.
“Only a couple of acres. I’d be willing to help out on the farm. What ever you needed to have done. . .” Stanley and Miller walked off.
I looked out to the horizon. Thick black smoke covered most of the northwest.
“I hope we won,” Mimi whispered as she stood next to the railing.
“Me, too,” I whispered.
“The factory has to be gone though,” she mused. “Stanley and I woke up a little after midnight to planes flying overhead. They were flying so low, everything rattled and shook.”
She rubbed at a spot in the paint.
“When we looked to see what was going on, a huge ball of fire leapt into the air above where the factory would be. The flames were . . .,” her voice trailed off, her hand making muted gestures in the air.
I wrapped my hand around one of hers, concerned.
“Are you all right?”
“Well, other than having several years scared off my life, I’m fine. I don’t think I can say as much for the people in New Bern.”
She looked over at me.
“Have you heard anything?”
“No, I didn’t have time to stop by headquarters this morning,” I said. “I came straight here.” I glanced at my watch. Noontime. I had to get going. There was likely to be a bundle of paperwork on my desk
“I’ve got to go,” I said, pulling out my truck keys. Mimi tightened her grip as I pulled away.
“Let me know if you hear any news,” she said. I knew what kind of news she meant. I gave her a quick nod and her hand fell away.
Fear laced its way through and around my heart on the drive back.
Characters: Beck, Heather, OCs
Rating: PG
Chapters: 2/?
Notes: Un-betad, all mistakes are my own. :)
There had been a week or two of peace after Edward Beck broke his allegiance to Cheyenne. In that time, we learned that Jake and Robert Hawkins had made it to Texas and that Texas had sided with the United States against the ASA. A week after that, we found out that Colonel Hoffman, still allied with the ASA, had died in the battle of Kansas City. U.S. troops had surged across the Mississippi from Missouri, taking the city practically overnight. More astonishing was how quickly all of Oklahoma came back into U.S. control. Others were less impressed, pointing out that they were bordered by Texas and the U.S. on two sides. And during that time, we learned that the U.S. had promoted Beck up two ranks to Colonel.
I think he would have rather stayed a Major. Stayed a Major who knew where his family was, that had a country that was united and whole. I think we all wished for the unattainable at one point or another during those first few months of the civil war.
Kansas became a whole different matter. Bleeding Kansas. A phrase that hadn’t been used since before the first civil war came back into use. The U.S. troops, cocky from their victory in Kansas City, fought door to door and street to street in Overland Park and then again in Olanthe as they attempted to push west along the I-70 and southwest along the I-35. Soon they and the ASA troops became bogged down in the struggles for control. Thousands had died, we heard. It was only a matter of time we thought till the war came to us and we prepared the best we could -- New Bern turning out munitions around the clock, Jericho stockpiling what foodstuffs it could.
About a month later, the war crept up on us like a beast, stealthily and craven, in the night. Up until that point, we had been spared. Later, some would say it had been a miracle for us to have had peace for as long as we did.
It was the night after the destruction of New Bern that I decided to find Edward’s family. Believe me, there was more than one little voice in my head arguing that I had lost it. I admitted to myself that I was attracted to him early on. Probably even before I stole that survey page from his office. Which made my guilt at the time over doing it that much worse. I so wanted to trust him. Heck, my gut was screaming to trust him. But my head convinced me it would be the less prudent thing to do. What if I gambled and lost, it reasoned. What if I gambled, won, but someone got hurt or even killed in the process? Then what? No, my brain stated, Beck was still too much of a variable to be counted on at that point.
So I stole the page out of the office and guilt gnawed at me in my weaker moments for a long time after. Yeah, it was the right thing to do. I know that. My trust in Jake was never in question, regardless of what passed between us, or didn’t. Jake wouldn’t lie to me. But if I had any other way of doing it, I would have.
And when Beck confronted me, I stood up and took my licks. And the guilt twisted its way around my gut that much more. But I was angry too. About ready to “spit bullets” as Emily would say. He was a good man, despite his flaws. I couldn’t believe he was that blind. Which meant he had to be scared, too scared to admit that Cheyenne was rotten to the core.
So I told him so.
Looking back, I realize it wasn’t the most diplomatic thing to say. When you’re angry, though, you tend not to think about diplomacy.
Wow. You’d have thought he had been slapped. Good, I thought, because I really, really wanted to slap some sense into him. Apparently nobody else was going to, so I took upon myself.
Him locking me up was the obvious answer that he didn’t appreciate my sentiment.
I don’t think I’ve ever prayed as hard in my life as I did when I was sitting in that jail cell. I’m not going to lie, I was afraid for myself. I was terrified for him, though.
God, I prayed, I know the truth, but please let Beck figure it out before anyone else gets hurt. Please.
I lost track of time. I hadn’t noticed the shifting of shadow and light across the cell or the soldier standing before the bars for some moments.
The door squeaked open.
“You’re free to go,” he said.
As I walked, a sense of peace came over me. With every footfall, assurance that my prayers had been answered grew stronger. By the time I walked into Beck’s office, I was biting my cheek to keep from smiling.
He did what was right. My faith hadn’t been misplaced.
I didn’t make him any promises that day. Just stood by him and offered my support. My guilt didn’t disappear that day, but at least it had lifted some of its weight off my spirit.
I hadn’t even heard the battle of New Bern as I slept that night. A-10s swept in just after midnight and destroyed the munitions factory. But the ASA wanted New Bern to suffer for its rebellion. They bombed the little town till the main street was non-existent. Not one tree, leaf, bud, no blade of grass was left.
And I was too busy the next morning mitigating a deal out on the Richmond farm to find out what happened in New Bern. A refugee named Miller from Tucson wanted to farm a section of Stanley’s and Mimi’s fields with native southwest seeds. Apparently most of the southwest that he’d been through so far had very little arable land left due to the fallout from Denver and Phoenix, and to a smaller extent, from San Diego and Los Angeles.
Stanley was having second thoughts about planting it since most of the seeds consisted of different types of pepper.
He had made a face when he looked into the largest bag labeled corn.
“It’s blue!” Stanley said in exasperation. Mimi walked up next to him and slid her hand into the top of the bag.
“Blue corn!” she laughed. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had blue corn tortilla chips?” She turned to him with a smile.
Miller seized the opportunity.
“Oh, I’ve got recipes for that and lots of salsa recipes for the peppers. And marinades, and rubs, and -“
Mimi waved a hand and Miller ceased. She and Stanley looked at one another for a moment, having an unspoken conversation. Finally, Stanley gave her the lightest of smiles.
“How many acres would you need, Mr. Miller?” he asked.
I think at that point, I took a sigh of relief. Miller was so happy he looked like he could do a jig.
“Only a couple of acres. I’d be willing to help out on the farm. What ever you needed to have done. . .” Stanley and Miller walked off.
I looked out to the horizon. Thick black smoke covered most of the northwest.
“I hope we won,” Mimi whispered as she stood next to the railing.
“Me, too,” I whispered.
“The factory has to be gone though,” she mused. “Stanley and I woke up a little after midnight to planes flying overhead. They were flying so low, everything rattled and shook.”
She rubbed at a spot in the paint.
“When we looked to see what was going on, a huge ball of fire leapt into the air above where the factory would be. The flames were . . .,” her voice trailed off, her hand making muted gestures in the air.
I wrapped my hand around one of hers, concerned.
“Are you all right?”
“Well, other than having several years scared off my life, I’m fine. I don’t think I can say as much for the people in New Bern.”
She looked over at me.
“Have you heard anything?”
“No, I didn’t have time to stop by headquarters this morning,” I said. “I came straight here.” I glanced at my watch. Noontime. I had to get going. There was likely to be a bundle of paperwork on my desk
“I’ve got to go,” I said, pulling out my truck keys. Mimi tightened her grip as I pulled away.
“Let me know if you hear any news,” she said. I knew what kind of news she meant. I gave her a quick nod and her hand fell away.
Fear laced its way through and around my heart on the drive back.