Fic: Love in the Midwest (1/2)
Author: lar_laughs
Word count: ~16000
Rating: R
Pairing(s): John/Rodney, Ronon/Teyla, Evan/Amelia
Summary: Life on the Dotted A, a ranch on the Colorado/Kansas border, is always an adventure but things really heat up when Amelia goes back to Kansas City to help out her cousin, Ronon Dex. John invites the man back to help out at the ranch, never thinking for an instant that the band of thugs was trailing them, intent on mischief and mayhem.
Warning(s) highlight to read: alternate universe, mild violence, the blatant use of current equine headlines, some language
Notes: A big thanks to Aster for her beta help and the continuing hand holding that I seem to need for these challenges. Also, I used this article at the Time-Standard (California) for specific guidelines on EHV-1. I know this was a horrible tragedy in the horse world but it helped in the shaping of this story so I grabbed what I could from all the different articles that are piling up on the subject. I also apologize for being very vague with the military verbage. This is very much a work of fiction and I made things work for me.
Companion piece to Love in the Midwest.
Love in the Midwest
Chapter 1: Grace for the Day
The pile of peeled potatoes was piling up on the counter as Teyla watched the sun get lower and lower in the sky. This was normally Amelia's job but the girl had dashed off early yesterday with a mumbled explanation of a family emergency. It left them in the lurch, what with the calves deciding that they wanted to come at least two weeks earlier than anyone had predicted. Seemed everyone was having family emergencies.
That thought made Teyla grin broadly. It was nice to smile, seeing as there wasn't much to smile about these days. The weather on the Kansas/Colorado border had been decidedly less like spring lately and more like the dead of winter. They'd lost three head in the blizzard last week because they'd been in one of the outer pastures, away from any shelter. The day before the wind and snow had hit, it had been sixty degrees. No one, not even the weather man, had seen that particular weather pattern coming.
Rodney had spent more than a little time gloating about the storm. He'd been pushing, for weeks, to be given permission to come up with something that would be a better weather detector. Something that could be used right here, right now without having to depend on the local channels in either Colorado Springs or Colby to tell them what they might be able to expect. Between the last few storms that had come upon them unexpectedly and the coming tornado season, Elizabeth would probably be swayed to let him start tinkering.
Right now, there wasn't time for tinkering. The only reason she was in the kitchen was because the hands would need food when they finally made it inside. And by hands, that meant every single living soul that could walk more than three steps in a row before falling down on his wee little bum. Not that Torren wouldn't have loved to be outside right now instead of in his bed like the year old that he was. This was not the sort of work that a little boy would be welcome to watch, even if she would have permitted him out in the cold and damp and coming dark.
When the potatoes were all peeled, she cut them up and dropped them into the pot of water that had been simmering on the stove since she'd come into the room. As big as the pot is, she knew it would need time to heat up. Seemed she hadn't lost all her cooking knowledge, no matter how she tried to get away from it every time she could. When Elizabeth offered to hire someone to cook for them full time, Teyla had been the loudest voice of agreement since cooking duties so often fell to her since no one liked eating John's version of pancakes more than once a week and Rodney only knew how to dial for pizza. That was always fun but the tip was always more than the pizza, considering they were at least fifty miles from the nearest pizza place. Seventy-five, for the decent stuff.
All the other people who lived here were hired for their ability to ride and rope and brand. In a pinch, Lorne could be depended on to stir something up but they saved his cooking skills for times when they were far enough away to need a cook stove and the dutch ovens. On a working ranch of this size and scope, there was little time and energy on cooking and cleaning.
Tonight was the old stand-bys. She had chicken ready to fry up and the potatoes would be ready to whip when the first straggles started in from the fields. There was a tossed salad already in the fridge, something she'd put together after lunch clean-up so she could be ahead of the game when she came back inside to finish dinner. It was pretty weak to call it a tossed salad and not just lettuce with a few carrots thrown in for color. Tomorrow, she'd need to remember to run down the road to Parrish's to see what kind of vegetables he had growing in his greenhouse this time of year. Torren would be excited for the trip and, truth be told, so would she. Conversation that wasn't all about gestating cows and everything that surrounded that experience would be a welcome relief. Even if said conversation was about soil and water and the million and one things that needed to be done before apples could be grafted.
"I need to go on a date. One where there's conversation and candlelight and food that I didn't help cook or shop for," she said, half to herself, as she pulled out the first pieces of chicken from the skillet and transferred them to a tray in the warming oven.
"Don't we all."
Teyla turned, her cheeks already burning with embarrassed color as she tried to figure out how she was going to play this. "I didn't hear you come in, John."
The man looked all done in. He was in his stocking feet, as everyone was in the main house unless they remembered to leave slippers in the mud room, and had unbuttoned his work shirt but had only gotten half of it untucked from the waist band of his jeans. Half his dark hair was lying flat and the other was sticking up straight but not in the way it normally had. Instead of making him look rakish, he looked disheveled. There was a streak of blood on his forehead; whether from him or an animal was uncertain.
"Is there coffee?"
"Of course. Go wash up and I'll have a cup waiting for you." She nodded toward the direction he was already headed. "And don't even think of heading toward your office. You'll sit down and forget how to get back up again or how to get your eyes open again. It would be a shame to get water spots on that manuscript sitting on the corner of the desk."
He narrowed his eyes as he looked over his shoulder at her. "For your information, it's not on the top of the desk anymore. I had to lock it up after I caught Rodney trying to sneak a peek yesterday. At least I know someone in this house hasn't been snooping around."
"Not today," she called out after him, tucking her smile away for later because the outside door was opening again, the mud room filling with cold bodies trying to get their work boots off without sitting down or tipping over. They were all silent, tired to the bone, but this was just a brief respite before they headed back out.
If anyone would talk, it would be Rodney. His mouth seemed to unhinge when he was tired which, with these hours, was most of the time. The man didn't look or talk or act like a cowboy but he was in the middle of everything these days. This round of calves was all his doing. For the last three years he'd been tirelessly leading a team that was working on a new breed of cattle that ate less food while producing more meat. The DNA sequencing alone had taken most of the first two years. Now he was reaping the rewards of his apparent success by donning a heavy coat and boots at every opportunity to see if his theories were working. For a scientist, he made a surprisingly good cowboy.
No one was bothering to stop his ramblings, but Lorne and Grodin were guiding him to a chair just to make sure he got to the table. If Rodney didn't get fed every four to six hours, he became even more irritating than normal, mostly because he was scared of letting his blood sugar drop. In the entire time he'd been here, they'd never not fed him at least three decent meals a day. The few times the meal times had differed from normal, he'd grown so tense that they'd taken to leaving a box of snacks for him in key locations, just to be on the safe side. No one was going to starve while they were at the Dotted A. Not even the scientists who weren't used to working around the clock like this.
"Anyone left out in the cold?" she called out over her shoulder as she finished up the last batch of chicken.
"Checkers is checking one last thing in the barn." Stackhouse laughed nearly as hard as Markham, both of them pleased with the joke that had taken them days to perfect.
"His name," she reminded them dryly, "is Radak or Zalenka. You'd do well to remember that."
Neither man looked like they were feeling at all bad about the insult. In fact, they were still grinning when Elizabeth walked up behind them. "I think Dr. Zalenka could use a hand. I'm glad to see that you both have offered to help him so that he'll be able to get to dinner before it gets cold." She held out their coats, waiting for them to either refuse or accept their banishment with grace.
As she knew they would, they took their coats and walked back out into the cold without another word. When their boss gave an order, even one that sounded calm, they knew to follow it right away. This was more than a job. Everyone at the Dotted A was part of a family, one that both worked and played together as a unit. Banter now and then was acceptable but both men had taken it to the extreme lately, finding ways to poke at him with both their words and their actions. It wasn't like they were doing it to be nasty. They just weren't good at accepting new people. Radak had been here for several months but that still made him fair game, especially with the language barrier.
But, she thought with a sigh, this was not something to be concentrating on at the moment. She still had potatoes to mash. That thought led her to another one.
"Has John come back from washing his hands?" she asked over her shoulder.
Several people replied negatively before Rodney stood up. "He probably sat down at his desk and fell asleep. Again. I'll go get him."
Teyla thought about telling him to sit down, that she would go get him, but she didn't have the time right now to try to get their writer-in-residence back to the table. With any luck, it wouldn't take Rodney long to get the job done although she had her doubts. It was Rodney's loss if he didn't get back when the food was hot. Even so, she set aside two plates piled high with food and placed them in a warm spot at the back of the stove.
Chapter 2: These Are the Moments
John remembered typing in his password to start up his computer but everything went fuzzy after that. It had been days since he'd gotten any new words in any of his documents. At this point, he could only hope his agent wasn't expecting a miracle because that's what it was going to take to get either of these books in on time. When this current situation was under control, he'd have to send an email for an extension... again. If it hadn't been his publishers idea that he live on a real ranch while writing this series, he didn't think they would understand why he hadn't been able to write lately. Pregnant cows didn't care about when his deadline was. They had their babies wherever and whenever they felt like it.
Someday, when he wasn't so sleep-deprived, he might be able to work that into the next Steele Thompson novel. Right now, it wasn't anything he wanted to relive. With six books on the bookstore shelves, he'd already used a lot of the ranch life that he'd experienced over the last few years. Most of it he gave a sugar-coating because no one would believe it.
With a chuckle, John opened his eyes. He either needed to get to work or he needed to go get something to eat. The second was probably the better choice, anyway. If Teyla was making her fried chicken, it was going to go quick and he wasn't entirely certain she'd be able to keep any back for him. It was first come, first serve on nights like this. All the cold and the lack of sleep made everyone slightly cranky so that they were more likely to fight for their share. Teyla's chicken was worth winning the fight, though. Not that Amelia's was anything to sneeze at, though.
"Hey."
Rodney's soft greeting from the doorway had John blinking his way out of the dream about a pile of chicken already on the desk in front of him. He really had been asleep, his eyelids almost gummed together. "Dinner started?"
"Yeah. You're missing it. Not like you to miss a meal."
"No," John retorted, stretching his arms up and over his head, "it's not like you to miss a meal. I miss them all the time."
"Yes, well... I figured you shouldn't miss this one."
As much as he appreciated that Rodney was trying to come up with conversation, John couldn't let him off so easily. Rodney had been the best at what he did for so long that he'd forgotten what it was like to be new at something. While he was a brilliant scientist and the only person in the country to be able to breed a cow that could eat less hay while getting more meat (something that shouldn't have been impossible but wasn't when the brain of Rodney McKay came at the problem), Rodney was crap at relationships. That was by his own admission, made only after more beers than even John remembered either of them drinking. Now, whenever possible, John liked to give him practice at this.
"And why is that?" It was hard not to smile, though. Rodney looked confused as he worked through what exactly John was asking him. He was smart enough that John knew he'd have it figured out soon. The moment he rolled his eyes, John laughed. "You just look so cute when you're trying to look out for my best interests."
"Very funny."
"No, but it could have been." Taking sympathy on the man, John pushed his chair away from his desk. "But thank you for thinking of me. That was nice."
"I'm getting good at nice."
Rodney suddenly looked so damned proud of himself that John couldn't help but chuckling. He was about to say something when his phone started ringing. Sure enough, when he checked it he saw that it was his private line. There were only a handful of people who had this number. One of them, his agent, swore never to call him without good cause, while another, his brother, flat out refused to call him, and a few of them were in the house with him. That left Amelia.
"Hello?"
"John?"
It was hard to tell for sure if she was the one actually calling since he could barely hear her voice over the static of the connection. "Amelia? Is everything going okay at home?"
"No." There were sobs on the other side of the connection but she pulled herself together. "I... I know this is a lot to ask but I need help. It's my cousin. He's been... well, he's been kidnapped, I suppose."
"Shouldn't you call the police?" John looked up as Rodney moved to stand beside him. He shook his head to show that everything appeared to be okay, as close a crying Amelia could be okay, and held up his hand to keep Rodney from peppering him with questions he couldn't answer just yet. "They'll need to be called before-"
"It's not that kind of kidnapping. It's the kind that I can't tell anyone about or he'll be hurt. He probably already has been hurt. It just... I don't know what to do. There's no one here I trust and, well, I know you're probably still calving but-"
John almost flinched as Rodney took the hand he'd extended out. It hadn't been meant as a Take my hand because I need it gesture but it was nice that Rodney had taken it upon himself to offer the support. If taken as John was sure that Rodney meant it, it was the sort of thing that one person did for another whom they liked in a I'm here for you way. After being alone and on his own for so long, it was nice to have someone around to offer help.
"I'll be there tomorrow afternoon. Can't make it any sooner because I'm going to need some sleep. I suggest you try it, too."
The fact that he'd made her laugh, even one that sounded nearly like a hiccup, was good to hear. "I will. And... thank you."
"Of course. Just hold on. Okay?"
She didn't answer but he could almost hear her nodding. It was good enough for him.
Chapter 3: A Flight Risk
It was always strange to fly in John's helicopter. Teyla didn't mind the noise but the hovering was odd. The Bell 430, a dark blue with the ranch's brand painted in white along the back rotor arm, was John's baby and he would have driven it everywhere if he could have. While Teyla knew that time was of the essence on this mission, she also knew that they could have conceivable driven to Kansas City. It was just another excuse for John to take the chopper out. He loved to fly this thing and kept it in impeccable condition. Too bad it was only taken out to check on the pastures or when he needed to travel. In the early days, John used it to travel back and forth to see his editor but now he'd taken to checking in via his computer.
"We're almost there." Teyla almost jumped out of her seat as John's voice came through her headset. With a few deep breaths, she was calm once again. This was not the time to let any nerves that might come up bother her. The main reason she came was because, quite frankly, Rodney couldn't.
Go with him. Just... watch out for him, okay? He forgets sometimes that he's not in the military anymore and that this isn't a mission where he'll have Marines at his disposal if he needs help. Since she couldn't help but agree with the man, she nodded solemnly and promised to watch out for John if he'd do the same for her and help Zalenka watch Torren. While not the ideal babysitter, especially at this time of the year, the only other idea she'd had was to take him to her uncle's house and that... well, that bridge had been burned a long time ago.
The last thing she wanted was her son being used as a pawn to bring her back into the Emmagan fold. She still wasn't ready to be that woman, the one they had always assumed she would be. Her parents were dead. There was nothing she could do to get them back and there was no way she could take their place in this world they had created. The community was their idea. Not hers. She'd tried it their way for a bit, easing out of life at the Dotted A and back into that old way of life. She'd even attempted picking a mate to see if that would ease her way back in to that life. It hadn't. She had Torren and would never give him up for anything but that didn't mean she wanted to go back. At least on the ranch, she was allowed to come and go freely. Her world wasn't quite so confined and narrow as it was with her family.
"Teyla?"
Her head snapped up again. She'd let herself drift away on her thoughts and her face must have shown her consternation because Lorne was looking back at her from the front seat where he was helping John with the navigation coordinates, his own face mirroring her frown.
"I am fine. Just... thinking."
"Right. Thinking. Well, we're about ready to land. You ready for this?"
She couldn't help the sneer that replaced her frown. The ranch hands forgot that they weren't the only ones who had once ridden the circuit, ready for anything and asking for more. As much as she hated to remind them of her own belt buckles and trophies, she was every bit as prepared for the unexpected as they were. The only difference was that she'd been able to go into the ring with a horse she trusted to get her to the buzzer. That didn't mean she trusted just anyone but it certainly did mean that she was more willing to work as a team than most of them were.
In the fifteen minutes it took for John to land the helicopter, Teyla had once again composed herself so that none of her thoughts showed on her face. When John held out a hand to help her down out of the cab, she was able to smile at him and thank him for his kindness. None of her earlier turmoil was there to cloud her expression or keep her from focusing on the task at hand.
After only another half an hour, they were walking toward a beat-up blue Suburban. Amelia stood by the front door, her normally expressive face hidden in the shade of a too-large ball cap. She lifted a hand in greeting but quickly got into the driver's seat as soon as they got close enough to do anything more than wave. Teyla took the seat behind Amelia while John took the passenger seat and Lorne got into the back with her.
Something seemed off about this, seeing as Teyla knew for a fact that Lorne was sweet on Amelia. They weren't exactly out in the open about what kind of relationship they had but they most definitely had one. Unless all those kisses she'd walked in on over the past year had just been about friendship. If that was the case, she wanted to rethink her friendship with both of them.
As Amelia put the large vehicle into gear, Teyla suddenly understood the arrangement. From his position, Lorne could watch Amelia without having to worry about being obvious. If he had set where John was, he would have had to turn his body to get as good a view as he had. John was trying but the seat belt was getting in his way. As he peppered their hostess with questions, he struggled with the most comfortable way to sit so that he could carry on a planning session.
That was most definitely what this was. Most of the basics, they already knew from the first few phone calls John had made. There were still holes that needed to be filled in and John, ever the master plotter, had spent the flight figuring out just what additional information he needed to know.
He was also working at putting Amelia at ease so that when they finally pulled into the driveway of a dilapidated house in the middle of a subdivision that Teyla wouldn't have been comfortable walking through closer to twilight, she had taken off the hat and was smiling once again. She'd even snuck a few peeks back at Lorne when she thought that no one was watching.
"So, you know where he's being held and who's holding him? Still, I have to ask again, why aren't you going to the police with this?"
She spread her arms wide, taking in not only the house but the whole neighborhood. "Does this look like a place the police are going to come running to? Sure, they'll take my information but Ronon's already been in trouble with them a few times. They're going to look for him just enough to keep my satisfied that they're trying but they won't find anything. If they did, they'd have to do something about it. This is not a place where can live and expect too many results from the police. This is not the Dotted A where Elizabeth can call up Sheriff Caldwell with a complaint and he listens because they're drinking buddies from way back. This is a place that a person runs away from and never really expects to come back to."
"But surely-" Teyla started to say when a cell phone's ring interrupted her.
Amelia looked at the caller ID, her expression tightening up once again. "Yeah?" Her eyes widened as if she heard something she wasn't expecting to hear. "How did you... No, I thought... Okay but... No, listen. They're friends. I called them here to help you. Just tell me where to come pick... What?"
She took off running around the edge of the house, leaving the rest of the group to stay or to follow. Teyla was first to sprint after her, probably because she wasn't completely sure that the girl wasn't just using this as a ruse to get away from them. She should have been willing to let her run but she found that she wanted to keep the girl around and not just because she wanted to take on cooking duties again. This was something that she, for one, needed to see through.
Because she was so closely behind Amelia, she was the first one of the group to meet Ronon. Her first impression didn't go as Amelia might as planned. Before she'd even had a chance to slow to a halt, a tall man had her pinned to the side of the badly-peeling house. Even with their differences in weight and height, she wouldn't have been in this situation if surprise hadn't been on his side. Even with all that they had come here to do, she truly hadn't expected anyone to be waiting for them in the backyard. Maybe she should follow John's advice and become a little less trusting.
"Let me go," she growled even though her wind pipe felt like it might be crushed at any moment.
"Amelia, who-"
"Let her go." John's voice was much too calm. It wasn't until she heard the twin clicks of two rifle's being cocked and ready to fire that she realized she'd been the only one to read the situation wrong.
"Why should I?" The man continued to look directly into her eyes, his last concern seeming to be the fully-armed men behind him. Teyla couldn't help but notice the scar running up his face, slightly marring the upper lid of his right eye and cutting away part of the brow above it. If she wasn't mistaken, he'd seen the service end of a broken bottle in a bar fight sometime in the past and hadn't gone to get the scar taken care of. It probably served him well when he was trying to look intimidating.
"Because she asked nicely. Where we're from, when a lady asks politely, we go out of our way to do as she requests." John's drawl was a little more pronounced that it normally was. He only brought it out when he was trying to intimidate or impress. She highly doubted that he was hoping this man would ask for his autograph when this was all said and done.
Amelia stepped forward for the first time. She laid a hand on Ronon's arm but it did nothing to ease the pressure on Teyla's throat. "Ronon, these are the people I was telling you about. I asked them here to help you get away from Queenie and her gang."
"I didn't need any help. I told you I'd get out of this on my own. No need dragging strangers into this."
Seeing as this was going to either come to a head with her conscious or unconscious, Teyla attempted to help out her cause a little more herself. "We are friends. Now let go of me or I tell those handsome men over there to shoot and hope they remember not to hit me in the process. I would rather get hurt by some friendly fire than by these scare tactics of yours."
He loosened his hold just the slightest. Just enough so that Teyla could get some leverage so that the foot to his kneecap had some drive behind it. Unfortunately, he only grimaced at both. Fine. If he wanted to play that way, she would let him in a secret that a few cowboys had learned when they tried cornering her in the barn. She might have looked small and sweet but she was deadly when it came to protecting herself and those she loved. It was one of the reasons that John brought her along with him when he was away from the ranch.
In a matter of seconds, he was down on his knees and Teyla could step away from him just far enough so that he couldn't get his hands on her again if he wanted to try for a second round of hurt. From the look of things, he wouldn't be coming after her again any time soon. John and Lorne also felt confidant of this, lowering their guns as they gave him sympathetic glances. They'd both been where he was, but only for the sin of doubting she could do what she said she could do.
"Now do you plan on listening?" He nodded, his head still bent down as if he was kneeling to her in adoration. "Good. Now, this is-"
Before she could finish her sentence, he lashed out with a strong arm against her legs. This time, she was prepared for him. When he made contact, she moved with the blow before swinging her own arms out in a flurry of movement that had him flat on his back this time. The only thing that kept her from beating him to a bloody pulp was that he'd stopped his own attack as soon as he realized what was happening. He kept his hands up in a show of surrender that she found endearing, in an odd way. Normally, when she put a man on the ground like this, she could only sneer at him. This man had done nothing but trying to keep his cousin safe. The arm at her throat hadn't given any ground because she was a woman, either.
She bent over him. "I am going to give you one more chance. The next time you try something like that, I'm going to grab John's gun and shoot you myself. Do we understand each other?" This time, when he nodded, she smiled and offered a hand up. "Good. My name is Teyla. This is John and Evan. We're friends of Amelia."
"She's talked about you before. I just had to be sure. Hope you don't mind, ma'am."
Amelia took Ronon's hand in hers. "How did you get free from them? Tyre said they were going to take out their payment in your flesh this time."
"Yeah, well, I got away. 'Nough said."
"No one gets away from Queenie. Not with the kind of money your dad owed her."
John's mouth was a thin line as he watched the conversation flow around him. When he'd finally had enough of watching and not participating, he shook his head and spoke up. "I only know some of the story. I think you owe me the rest of the story just for the fact that I wasted all this gas on coming here for nothing."
"Not for nothing," Amelia protested. She tugged on Ronon's sleeve to get his attention. "This isn't over and you know it. She didn't just let you go without taking something from you or making you promise something. You're just lucky she didn't kill you this time." When Ronon just shook his head without offering an explanation, Amelia just rolled her eyes.
"Fine, I'm going to tell them if you won't. Ronon's family decided to buy a house out in one of the subdivisions away from this part of town. This is where we grew up." She pointed to the house next door. "That's where I lived and Ronon lived next to that. This house is where our Aunt Ara lives. All one big happy family, living together on the block they grew up on. Ronon's dad worked for years to be able to afford something better for his family. He bought a house and, a year later, found out that it had some serious damage to the foundation and basic structure. They tried getting it fixed but it cost a lot more than they could afford so they decided to go after the contractor."
"We couldn't touch them. Not in court or out," Ronon growled. He tugged his arm away from his cousin as if he couldn't stand to be touched while discussing his past. Teyla felt an odd connection to him in that moment. She didn't like to talk about her family either. John had pulled bits and pieces out of her over the past few years but nothing like what this man was having to endure.
"So you decided to make your own form of justice?" Lorne asked. His voice was soothing and Teyla noticed that he wasn't looking at Ronon but at Amelia even though she had yet to give him anything but a glance now and then.
When Ronon shrugged, John took over the conversation. "So this isn't something that's going to go away. If we factor in the time that Amelia had to spend to travel here and our time away, this is a spendy way to get back at someone who you can't win against. Is anyone actively in trouble? Like, is anyone else being held against their will?" When both Ronon and Amelia shook their head, John smiled in that way he had when he'd come up with what he thought was the best plan for the situation. Most of the time he was right so not a lot of people argued with him. Well, no one else but Rodney, but Teyla was convinced he did it so that John would notice him because he didn't do it nearly as much as he had in the past. "Okay, so here's what we're going to do. Lorne, you're going to drive Amelia back. I assume it will take a little over two days to get back." He held up his hand to silence Lorne when he would have protested. "Two days."
Next, he turned back to Ronon. "Seems to me that you would be better off if you got out of this town for awhile. Why don't you come back in the chopper with me and Teyla? There's always work to be had at the ranch. In the meantime, we'll sic Elizabeth's lawyers on this problem and see what they can't unearth."
Ronon looked down at Amelia to see what she thought of the idea. When she nodded her head, the first smile gracing her lips since they'd arrived, he nodded his head as well. "I don't take hand outs. I'll work to pay off any time the lawyers spend on this issue."
Teyla laughed as John grinned and held out his hand. "Good. Then we'll have you around for a good long time."
Chapter 4: You Need to Unwind From Time to Time
It took two weeks for everything to even out on the Dotted A. Amelia and Lorne had taken three days to get back from Kansas City, trying to convince everyone that the work truck had sprung an oil leak but no bill ever showed up for the repairs. Elizabeth had taken the news of their newest worker with the aplomb that John had expected of her, offering to show Ronon around the ranch and not even batting an eye when he refused. Rodney had been a tad too enthusiastic to hear that there hadn't been any shooting of any kind but John could appreciate his worry and welcome home attention.
Ronon had been the biggest surprise. When John had offered him a job, he'd figured the man would make some small talk and in a few days, be one of the other hands. The problem was that he flat out refused to take part in small talk. Yes, he answered direct questions but he didn't do much more than that. When the conversations swirled around the dining room, he just sat back in his seat and watched everyone. John felt like an exhibit in a zoo at times when the man was staring at him. It was like he was learning what it was that he was supposed to be doing, how he was supposed to act.
Rodney was the one, surprisingly, who picked up on the signs. "He's a kid from the streets. You don't do the wrong thing out there or you get killed."
"And how would you know?" John had chided from his place in front of the computer screen. It was where he was spending all his free time these days and Rodney had learned that he could come in for a visit if he didn't make too much noise. What was noise and what wasn't was always up for discussion. "From watching Cops?"
"I'll have you know, I was in a production of Les Mis when I was in grade school. They taught us how to be street children. I got rave reviews."
"From your mother?"
"And my grandmother."
The conversation had moved on to what Rodney was working on so that John only had to comment in monosyllables after that, but it had set him to thinking. That was exactly what Ronon was doing. He was discovering all the nuances that went in to being a good cowboy. Whatever he had been in his previous life, he had learned to look and listen before acting and speaking.
Over all, John couldn't complain about Ronon's performance when he was working. He knew enough about horses to be slightly afraid of them but not enough that he set them off. Teyla had put him on a horse almost as soon as they'd touched the ground and he'd known enough to know that the animal was docile. That was more than John could say about his first time up on Doc. He was still checking fence line by truck but he was making time to practice his riding so he'd be on the same level with the others soon.
Was it the new love of riding that had him constantly at the stables, John wondered as he powered up the computer after dinner, or the instructor? While Rodney hadn't mentioned the amount of time that Teyla and Ronon were spending together, he had to assume that even the focused scientist hadn't failed to notice. There was most definitely something going on between those two. Love? Maybe. Friendship? Most definitely. He liked the idea of Teyla having a friend. She didn't let many people close. He and Elizabeth were the only ones she spent any of her precious free time and Radak, the Czech scientist who knew who to juggle and could make Torren laugh, was her only choice of babysitter if Amelia was unavailable.
Tonight, he was going to test his theory because tonight was a time for celebration. The only reason he'd even come to his office on this beautiful spring day was to check his emails and, sure enough, there was one here from his editor. Danger on the Range was done with final edits and was going to the printer. Cover art for Murder in the Back Forty had been submitted and the initial outline for Farmhouse Fear had been okayed.
God, he hated those titles but they hadn't been his idea and his real name wasn't on any of them anyway. John just came up with the decent mysteries that filled out the one hundred and fifty pages (if he was lucky) and reaped the rewards. Because he used a pen name at the request of the publisher, they never expected him to go to any book signings or glad-hand any patrons. For a hefty fee, they'd bought and paid for his silence.
Picking up the ranch phone, he dialed the number down to the lab barn and asked for Rodney. Several minutes went by before the extension was finally picked up with a curt, "Yeah?"
"Go take a shower. We're going out."
There was a pause. "John?"
"Who else would it be? Of course, it's John. We're going out. I got good news and I want to celebrate."
"This isn't a good time. I have-"
"It's never a good time," John growled, because it never was. It was impossible to tell if the two of them were dating because they never went on actual dates. They hung out at the ranch house, watching movies and then moving things to one of their bedrooms. Whenever one of them wanted to go out, the other never seemed to be able to get away. It was a damned shame. One of them had to cave and tonight, well, that was going to be Rodney.
"I got the news from my publisher. Tonight, I'm going out on the town. I feel like closing down the bar. If you in, you're in. If not, I'll find someone else." Instead of slamming down the receiver like the little devil on his shoulder wanted him to do, John added, "Please come."
There was a sigh on the other end of the line. "Give me fifteen minutes."
"Fifteen and no more."
John flicked down the handle with his finger before dialing the number to the horse barn. "Teyla? It's John. I got confirmation from my publisher. Yeah, I know. Great, right? So, I was thinking of going by Jack's and having a few rounds. Maybe shoot some pool. Throw some darts. See where the night takes us. You and Ronon want to join me? Well, and Rodney if he gets moving fast enough. Yeah, I can give you fifteen minutes. No more than that or I'm out on my own. Okay, okay. I won't go on my own. Not again."
He was smiling when he hung up the phone. Since he didn't need to freshen up, having done that before dinner, he leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms over his head. Sometimes, he really liked his life.
In twenty minutes, almost exactly to the minute, Rodney, Ronon and John crowded into John's work truck. Teyla, at the last minute, had discovered that Torren was running a fever and had to back out. It was only at her insistance that Ronon hadn't stayed back with her. Still, he was watching the back door as if he assumed she would burst through it at any minute, begging him to stay behind.
"Torren's a tough kid. They have a tendency to get fevers when they're teething," John mentioned, as if he had to convince Ronon that he wasn't needed and this wasn't some elaborate ruse that Teyla had come up with to get him out of the house. "And Torren's cut a lot of teeth lately. He just gets cranky and it helps to have his mama around."
Rodney was the one to grunt this time while Ronon said, "Probably isn't anything to worry about."
"Nope. Nothing to worry about. Just a normal part of being a kid."
"I was in the hospital four time before I was five," Rodney offered.
Ronon immediately stiffened up. "Maybe we should-"
"He won't need to go to the hospital for this fever. Rodney had to go to the hospital because he had croup. It's a great story unless you're eating and then it's kind of gross. Maybe he can tell it... later." John shot Rodney a glare. Just then, the tires hit a particularly deep groove in the road and the conversation lagged as they tried not to hit each other or the roof or the dashboard. As a distraction, it worked perfectly.
There weren't many vehicles in front of the Jackalope, or Jack's as the locals called it, but it was still early yet. The sun had set hours ago but the weather was starting to warm up and most of the farmers and ranchers in the area were starting to think about spring as if it might just show up when the calendar said it should. It was always iffy in these parts. But the warmer weather after the cold winter they'd had was giving people hope and keeping them working longer to be ready for the warmth the moment it showed up.
"Tonight's on me, boys." John was feeling generous but he'd also figured that Rodney wouldn't drink more than one beer and even that would take awhile. While he didn't know how much of a drinker Ronon was, he didn't seem like the kind of guy that would get stinking drunk. At least, not his first night out. One drink each would probably be the max each of them consume so he'd be taking some of the cash in his wallet home with him.
"Wish it really was," Rodney muttered before moving off to see what the line was like at the pool table. Ever since he'd learned the game, Rodney had become the become something of an expert. No one would play him for money but plenty of players lined up to see if they could best him at least one time. To date, no one had.
No one, that was, until Ronon. By the time John got to the table with the drinks in hand, both men had their sticks out and were concentrating on the table. "Who's winning?" he asked, fully expecting to hear Rodney crowing about beating yet another unexpected sap.
This time, it was Ronon's smile he saw. "Me. Rodney really beat everyone in town?"
"This one and the next over. You're really winning?"
Ronon nodded but his smile didn't dim. In fact, it broadened as Rodney began to grumble about what a fickle bitch fate could be. To his credit, he never once laughed. Not in that game or the rematch that Rodney demanded after that one. A crowd gathered but everyone was silent as they watched the reigning champion was toppled.
"Beaten by a caveman," he muttered as he sank down on the chair beside John. "The guy can barely string three words together yet he someone understands the basic dynamics of geometry enough to be able to pull off two wins without even trying."
"Don't be a sore loser, Rodney. He had you-" A yell brought John's head up as he looked for the problem. Sure enough, just as he feared, he saw Ronon fly through the crowd. He knew, for a fact, that Ronon wasn't an easy man to throw around. When he saw a huge man stalk after him, only to pick him up like a child and hurl him back the way he'd come, John knew they were in for some trouble.
"Stay here, Rodney," he shouted as he stood up and unbuttoned the cuffs of his long-sleeved shirt. "I need to go help Ronon."
Surprisingly, Rodney surged to his feet as well. His smile was predatory. "No, this is one of those times I'm going to help. You can't have all the fun tonight."
"Suit yourself." John shook his head as he tried to figure out who was going to be in more trouble in the next several minutes - Ronon or Rodney? No matter. John would do his best to defend both of them.
Continued in part 2.
Word count: ~16000
Rating: R
Pairing(s): John/Rodney, Ronon/Teyla, Evan/Amelia
Summary: Life on the Dotted A, a ranch on the Colorado/Kansas border, is always an adventure but things really heat up when Amelia goes back to Kansas City to help out her cousin, Ronon Dex. John invites the man back to help out at the ranch, never thinking for an instant that the band of thugs was trailing them, intent on mischief and mayhem.
Warning(s) highlight to read: alternate universe, mild violence, the blatant use of current equine headlines, some language
Notes: A big thanks to Aster for her beta help and the continuing hand holding that I seem to need for these challenges. Also, I used this article at the Time-Standard (California) for specific guidelines on EHV-1. I know this was a horrible tragedy in the horse world but it helped in the shaping of this story so I grabbed what I could from all the different articles that are piling up on the subject. I also apologize for being very vague with the military verbage. This is very much a work of fiction and I made things work for me.
Companion piece to Love in the Midwest.
Love in the Midwest
Chapter 1: Grace for the Day
The pile of peeled potatoes was piling up on the counter as Teyla watched the sun get lower and lower in the sky. This was normally Amelia's job but the girl had dashed off early yesterday with a mumbled explanation of a family emergency. It left them in the lurch, what with the calves deciding that they wanted to come at least two weeks earlier than anyone had predicted. Seemed everyone was having family emergencies.
That thought made Teyla grin broadly. It was nice to smile, seeing as there wasn't much to smile about these days. The weather on the Kansas/Colorado border had been decidedly less like spring lately and more like the dead of winter. They'd lost three head in the blizzard last week because they'd been in one of the outer pastures, away from any shelter. The day before the wind and snow had hit, it had been sixty degrees. No one, not even the weather man, had seen that particular weather pattern coming.
Rodney had spent more than a little time gloating about the storm. He'd been pushing, for weeks, to be given permission to come up with something that would be a better weather detector. Something that could be used right here, right now without having to depend on the local channels in either Colorado Springs or Colby to tell them what they might be able to expect. Between the last few storms that had come upon them unexpectedly and the coming tornado season, Elizabeth would probably be swayed to let him start tinkering.
Right now, there wasn't time for tinkering. The only reason she was in the kitchen was because the hands would need food when they finally made it inside. And by hands, that meant every single living soul that could walk more than three steps in a row before falling down on his wee little bum. Not that Torren wouldn't have loved to be outside right now instead of in his bed like the year old that he was. This was not the sort of work that a little boy would be welcome to watch, even if she would have permitted him out in the cold and damp and coming dark.
When the potatoes were all peeled, she cut them up and dropped them into the pot of water that had been simmering on the stove since she'd come into the room. As big as the pot is, she knew it would need time to heat up. Seemed she hadn't lost all her cooking knowledge, no matter how she tried to get away from it every time she could. When Elizabeth offered to hire someone to cook for them full time, Teyla had been the loudest voice of agreement since cooking duties so often fell to her since no one liked eating John's version of pancakes more than once a week and Rodney only knew how to dial for pizza. That was always fun but the tip was always more than the pizza, considering they were at least fifty miles from the nearest pizza place. Seventy-five, for the decent stuff.
All the other people who lived here were hired for their ability to ride and rope and brand. In a pinch, Lorne could be depended on to stir something up but they saved his cooking skills for times when they were far enough away to need a cook stove and the dutch ovens. On a working ranch of this size and scope, there was little time and energy on cooking and cleaning.
Tonight was the old stand-bys. She had chicken ready to fry up and the potatoes would be ready to whip when the first straggles started in from the fields. There was a tossed salad already in the fridge, something she'd put together after lunch clean-up so she could be ahead of the game when she came back inside to finish dinner. It was pretty weak to call it a tossed salad and not just lettuce with a few carrots thrown in for color. Tomorrow, she'd need to remember to run down the road to Parrish's to see what kind of vegetables he had growing in his greenhouse this time of year. Torren would be excited for the trip and, truth be told, so would she. Conversation that wasn't all about gestating cows and everything that surrounded that experience would be a welcome relief. Even if said conversation was about soil and water and the million and one things that needed to be done before apples could be grafted.
"I need to go on a date. One where there's conversation and candlelight and food that I didn't help cook or shop for," she said, half to herself, as she pulled out the first pieces of chicken from the skillet and transferred them to a tray in the warming oven.
"Don't we all."
Teyla turned, her cheeks already burning with embarrassed color as she tried to figure out how she was going to play this. "I didn't hear you come in, John."
The man looked all done in. He was in his stocking feet, as everyone was in the main house unless they remembered to leave slippers in the mud room, and had unbuttoned his work shirt but had only gotten half of it untucked from the waist band of his jeans. Half his dark hair was lying flat and the other was sticking up straight but not in the way it normally had. Instead of making him look rakish, he looked disheveled. There was a streak of blood on his forehead; whether from him or an animal was uncertain.
"Is there coffee?"
"Of course. Go wash up and I'll have a cup waiting for you." She nodded toward the direction he was already headed. "And don't even think of heading toward your office. You'll sit down and forget how to get back up again or how to get your eyes open again. It would be a shame to get water spots on that manuscript sitting on the corner of the desk."
He narrowed his eyes as he looked over his shoulder at her. "For your information, it's not on the top of the desk anymore. I had to lock it up after I caught Rodney trying to sneak a peek yesterday. At least I know someone in this house hasn't been snooping around."
"Not today," she called out after him, tucking her smile away for later because the outside door was opening again, the mud room filling with cold bodies trying to get their work boots off without sitting down or tipping over. They were all silent, tired to the bone, but this was just a brief respite before they headed back out.
If anyone would talk, it would be Rodney. His mouth seemed to unhinge when he was tired which, with these hours, was most of the time. The man didn't look or talk or act like a cowboy but he was in the middle of everything these days. This round of calves was all his doing. For the last three years he'd been tirelessly leading a team that was working on a new breed of cattle that ate less food while producing more meat. The DNA sequencing alone had taken most of the first two years. Now he was reaping the rewards of his apparent success by donning a heavy coat and boots at every opportunity to see if his theories were working. For a scientist, he made a surprisingly good cowboy.
No one was bothering to stop his ramblings, but Lorne and Grodin were guiding him to a chair just to make sure he got to the table. If Rodney didn't get fed every four to six hours, he became even more irritating than normal, mostly because he was scared of letting his blood sugar drop. In the entire time he'd been here, they'd never not fed him at least three decent meals a day. The few times the meal times had differed from normal, he'd grown so tense that they'd taken to leaving a box of snacks for him in key locations, just to be on the safe side. No one was going to starve while they were at the Dotted A. Not even the scientists who weren't used to working around the clock like this.
"Anyone left out in the cold?" she called out over her shoulder as she finished up the last batch of chicken.
"Checkers is checking one last thing in the barn." Stackhouse laughed nearly as hard as Markham, both of them pleased with the joke that had taken them days to perfect.
"His name," she reminded them dryly, "is Radak or Zalenka. You'd do well to remember that."
Neither man looked like they were feeling at all bad about the insult. In fact, they were still grinning when Elizabeth walked up behind them. "I think Dr. Zalenka could use a hand. I'm glad to see that you both have offered to help him so that he'll be able to get to dinner before it gets cold." She held out their coats, waiting for them to either refuse or accept their banishment with grace.
As she knew they would, they took their coats and walked back out into the cold without another word. When their boss gave an order, even one that sounded calm, they knew to follow it right away. This was more than a job. Everyone at the Dotted A was part of a family, one that both worked and played together as a unit. Banter now and then was acceptable but both men had taken it to the extreme lately, finding ways to poke at him with both their words and their actions. It wasn't like they were doing it to be nasty. They just weren't good at accepting new people. Radak had been here for several months but that still made him fair game, especially with the language barrier.
But, she thought with a sigh, this was not something to be concentrating on at the moment. She still had potatoes to mash. That thought led her to another one.
"Has John come back from washing his hands?" she asked over her shoulder.
Several people replied negatively before Rodney stood up. "He probably sat down at his desk and fell asleep. Again. I'll go get him."
Teyla thought about telling him to sit down, that she would go get him, but she didn't have the time right now to try to get their writer-in-residence back to the table. With any luck, it wouldn't take Rodney long to get the job done although she had her doubts. It was Rodney's loss if he didn't get back when the food was hot. Even so, she set aside two plates piled high with food and placed them in a warm spot at the back of the stove.
Chapter 2: These Are the Moments
John remembered typing in his password to start up his computer but everything went fuzzy after that. It had been days since he'd gotten any new words in any of his documents. At this point, he could only hope his agent wasn't expecting a miracle because that's what it was going to take to get either of these books in on time. When this current situation was under control, he'd have to send an email for an extension... again. If it hadn't been his publishers idea that he live on a real ranch while writing this series, he didn't think they would understand why he hadn't been able to write lately. Pregnant cows didn't care about when his deadline was. They had their babies wherever and whenever they felt like it.
Someday, when he wasn't so sleep-deprived, he might be able to work that into the next Steele Thompson novel. Right now, it wasn't anything he wanted to relive. With six books on the bookstore shelves, he'd already used a lot of the ranch life that he'd experienced over the last few years. Most of it he gave a sugar-coating because no one would believe it.
With a chuckle, John opened his eyes. He either needed to get to work or he needed to go get something to eat. The second was probably the better choice, anyway. If Teyla was making her fried chicken, it was going to go quick and he wasn't entirely certain she'd be able to keep any back for him. It was first come, first serve on nights like this. All the cold and the lack of sleep made everyone slightly cranky so that they were more likely to fight for their share. Teyla's chicken was worth winning the fight, though. Not that Amelia's was anything to sneeze at, though.
"Hey."
Rodney's soft greeting from the doorway had John blinking his way out of the dream about a pile of chicken already on the desk in front of him. He really had been asleep, his eyelids almost gummed together. "Dinner started?"
"Yeah. You're missing it. Not like you to miss a meal."
"No," John retorted, stretching his arms up and over his head, "it's not like you to miss a meal. I miss them all the time."
"Yes, well... I figured you shouldn't miss this one."
As much as he appreciated that Rodney was trying to come up with conversation, John couldn't let him off so easily. Rodney had been the best at what he did for so long that he'd forgotten what it was like to be new at something. While he was a brilliant scientist and the only person in the country to be able to breed a cow that could eat less hay while getting more meat (something that shouldn't have been impossible but wasn't when the brain of Rodney McKay came at the problem), Rodney was crap at relationships. That was by his own admission, made only after more beers than even John remembered either of them drinking. Now, whenever possible, John liked to give him practice at this.
"And why is that?" It was hard not to smile, though. Rodney looked confused as he worked through what exactly John was asking him. He was smart enough that John knew he'd have it figured out soon. The moment he rolled his eyes, John laughed. "You just look so cute when you're trying to look out for my best interests."
"Very funny."
"No, but it could have been." Taking sympathy on the man, John pushed his chair away from his desk. "But thank you for thinking of me. That was nice."
"I'm getting good at nice."
Rodney suddenly looked so damned proud of himself that John couldn't help but chuckling. He was about to say something when his phone started ringing. Sure enough, when he checked it he saw that it was his private line. There were only a handful of people who had this number. One of them, his agent, swore never to call him without good cause, while another, his brother, flat out refused to call him, and a few of them were in the house with him. That left Amelia.
"Hello?"
"John?"
It was hard to tell for sure if she was the one actually calling since he could barely hear her voice over the static of the connection. "Amelia? Is everything going okay at home?"
"No." There were sobs on the other side of the connection but she pulled herself together. "I... I know this is a lot to ask but I need help. It's my cousin. He's been... well, he's been kidnapped, I suppose."
"Shouldn't you call the police?" John looked up as Rodney moved to stand beside him. He shook his head to show that everything appeared to be okay, as close a crying Amelia could be okay, and held up his hand to keep Rodney from peppering him with questions he couldn't answer just yet. "They'll need to be called before-"
"It's not that kind of kidnapping. It's the kind that I can't tell anyone about or he'll be hurt. He probably already has been hurt. It just... I don't know what to do. There's no one here I trust and, well, I know you're probably still calving but-"
John almost flinched as Rodney took the hand he'd extended out. It hadn't been meant as a Take my hand because I need it gesture but it was nice that Rodney had taken it upon himself to offer the support. If taken as John was sure that Rodney meant it, it was the sort of thing that one person did for another whom they liked in a I'm here for you way. After being alone and on his own for so long, it was nice to have someone around to offer help.
"I'll be there tomorrow afternoon. Can't make it any sooner because I'm going to need some sleep. I suggest you try it, too."
The fact that he'd made her laugh, even one that sounded nearly like a hiccup, was good to hear. "I will. And... thank you."
"Of course. Just hold on. Okay?"
She didn't answer but he could almost hear her nodding. It was good enough for him.
Chapter 3: A Flight Risk
It was always strange to fly in John's helicopter. Teyla didn't mind the noise but the hovering was odd. The Bell 430, a dark blue with the ranch's brand painted in white along the back rotor arm, was John's baby and he would have driven it everywhere if he could have. While Teyla knew that time was of the essence on this mission, she also knew that they could have conceivable driven to Kansas City. It was just another excuse for John to take the chopper out. He loved to fly this thing and kept it in impeccable condition. Too bad it was only taken out to check on the pastures or when he needed to travel. In the early days, John used it to travel back and forth to see his editor but now he'd taken to checking in via his computer.
"We're almost there." Teyla almost jumped out of her seat as John's voice came through her headset. With a few deep breaths, she was calm once again. This was not the time to let any nerves that might come up bother her. The main reason she came was because, quite frankly, Rodney couldn't.
Go with him. Just... watch out for him, okay? He forgets sometimes that he's not in the military anymore and that this isn't a mission where he'll have Marines at his disposal if he needs help. Since she couldn't help but agree with the man, she nodded solemnly and promised to watch out for John if he'd do the same for her and help Zalenka watch Torren. While not the ideal babysitter, especially at this time of the year, the only other idea she'd had was to take him to her uncle's house and that... well, that bridge had been burned a long time ago.
The last thing she wanted was her son being used as a pawn to bring her back into the Emmagan fold. She still wasn't ready to be that woman, the one they had always assumed she would be. Her parents were dead. There was nothing she could do to get them back and there was no way she could take their place in this world they had created. The community was their idea. Not hers. She'd tried it their way for a bit, easing out of life at the Dotted A and back into that old way of life. She'd even attempted picking a mate to see if that would ease her way back in to that life. It hadn't. She had Torren and would never give him up for anything but that didn't mean she wanted to go back. At least on the ranch, she was allowed to come and go freely. Her world wasn't quite so confined and narrow as it was with her family.
"Teyla?"
Her head snapped up again. She'd let herself drift away on her thoughts and her face must have shown her consternation because Lorne was looking back at her from the front seat where he was helping John with the navigation coordinates, his own face mirroring her frown.
"I am fine. Just... thinking."
"Right. Thinking. Well, we're about ready to land. You ready for this?"
She couldn't help the sneer that replaced her frown. The ranch hands forgot that they weren't the only ones who had once ridden the circuit, ready for anything and asking for more. As much as she hated to remind them of her own belt buckles and trophies, she was every bit as prepared for the unexpected as they were. The only difference was that she'd been able to go into the ring with a horse she trusted to get her to the buzzer. That didn't mean she trusted just anyone but it certainly did mean that she was more willing to work as a team than most of them were.
In the fifteen minutes it took for John to land the helicopter, Teyla had once again composed herself so that none of her thoughts showed on her face. When John held out a hand to help her down out of the cab, she was able to smile at him and thank him for his kindness. None of her earlier turmoil was there to cloud her expression or keep her from focusing on the task at hand.
After only another half an hour, they were walking toward a beat-up blue Suburban. Amelia stood by the front door, her normally expressive face hidden in the shade of a too-large ball cap. She lifted a hand in greeting but quickly got into the driver's seat as soon as they got close enough to do anything more than wave. Teyla took the seat behind Amelia while John took the passenger seat and Lorne got into the back with her.
Something seemed off about this, seeing as Teyla knew for a fact that Lorne was sweet on Amelia. They weren't exactly out in the open about what kind of relationship they had but they most definitely had one. Unless all those kisses she'd walked in on over the past year had just been about friendship. If that was the case, she wanted to rethink her friendship with both of them.
As Amelia put the large vehicle into gear, Teyla suddenly understood the arrangement. From his position, Lorne could watch Amelia without having to worry about being obvious. If he had set where John was, he would have had to turn his body to get as good a view as he had. John was trying but the seat belt was getting in his way. As he peppered their hostess with questions, he struggled with the most comfortable way to sit so that he could carry on a planning session.
That was most definitely what this was. Most of the basics, they already knew from the first few phone calls John had made. There were still holes that needed to be filled in and John, ever the master plotter, had spent the flight figuring out just what additional information he needed to know.
He was also working at putting Amelia at ease so that when they finally pulled into the driveway of a dilapidated house in the middle of a subdivision that Teyla wouldn't have been comfortable walking through closer to twilight, she had taken off the hat and was smiling once again. She'd even snuck a few peeks back at Lorne when she thought that no one was watching.
"So, you know where he's being held and who's holding him? Still, I have to ask again, why aren't you going to the police with this?"
She spread her arms wide, taking in not only the house but the whole neighborhood. "Does this look like a place the police are going to come running to? Sure, they'll take my information but Ronon's already been in trouble with them a few times. They're going to look for him just enough to keep my satisfied that they're trying but they won't find anything. If they did, they'd have to do something about it. This is not a place where can live and expect too many results from the police. This is not the Dotted A where Elizabeth can call up Sheriff Caldwell with a complaint and he listens because they're drinking buddies from way back. This is a place that a person runs away from and never really expects to come back to."
"But surely-" Teyla started to say when a cell phone's ring interrupted her.
Amelia looked at the caller ID, her expression tightening up once again. "Yeah?" Her eyes widened as if she heard something she wasn't expecting to hear. "How did you... No, I thought... Okay but... No, listen. They're friends. I called them here to help you. Just tell me where to come pick... What?"
She took off running around the edge of the house, leaving the rest of the group to stay or to follow. Teyla was first to sprint after her, probably because she wasn't completely sure that the girl wasn't just using this as a ruse to get away from them. She should have been willing to let her run but she found that she wanted to keep the girl around and not just because she wanted to take on cooking duties again. This was something that she, for one, needed to see through.
Because she was so closely behind Amelia, she was the first one of the group to meet Ronon. Her first impression didn't go as Amelia might as planned. Before she'd even had a chance to slow to a halt, a tall man had her pinned to the side of the badly-peeling house. Even with their differences in weight and height, she wouldn't have been in this situation if surprise hadn't been on his side. Even with all that they had come here to do, she truly hadn't expected anyone to be waiting for them in the backyard. Maybe she should follow John's advice and become a little less trusting.
"Let me go," she growled even though her wind pipe felt like it might be crushed at any moment.
"Amelia, who-"
"Let her go." John's voice was much too calm. It wasn't until she heard the twin clicks of two rifle's being cocked and ready to fire that she realized she'd been the only one to read the situation wrong.
"Why should I?" The man continued to look directly into her eyes, his last concern seeming to be the fully-armed men behind him. Teyla couldn't help but notice the scar running up his face, slightly marring the upper lid of his right eye and cutting away part of the brow above it. If she wasn't mistaken, he'd seen the service end of a broken bottle in a bar fight sometime in the past and hadn't gone to get the scar taken care of. It probably served him well when he was trying to look intimidating.
"Because she asked nicely. Where we're from, when a lady asks politely, we go out of our way to do as she requests." John's drawl was a little more pronounced that it normally was. He only brought it out when he was trying to intimidate or impress. She highly doubted that he was hoping this man would ask for his autograph when this was all said and done.
Amelia stepped forward for the first time. She laid a hand on Ronon's arm but it did nothing to ease the pressure on Teyla's throat. "Ronon, these are the people I was telling you about. I asked them here to help you get away from Queenie and her gang."
"I didn't need any help. I told you I'd get out of this on my own. No need dragging strangers into this."
Seeing as this was going to either come to a head with her conscious or unconscious, Teyla attempted to help out her cause a little more herself. "We are friends. Now let go of me or I tell those handsome men over there to shoot and hope they remember not to hit me in the process. I would rather get hurt by some friendly fire than by these scare tactics of yours."
He loosened his hold just the slightest. Just enough so that Teyla could get some leverage so that the foot to his kneecap had some drive behind it. Unfortunately, he only grimaced at both. Fine. If he wanted to play that way, she would let him in a secret that a few cowboys had learned when they tried cornering her in the barn. She might have looked small and sweet but she was deadly when it came to protecting herself and those she loved. It was one of the reasons that John brought her along with him when he was away from the ranch.
In a matter of seconds, he was down on his knees and Teyla could step away from him just far enough so that he couldn't get his hands on her again if he wanted to try for a second round of hurt. From the look of things, he wouldn't be coming after her again any time soon. John and Lorne also felt confidant of this, lowering their guns as they gave him sympathetic glances. They'd both been where he was, but only for the sin of doubting she could do what she said she could do.
"Now do you plan on listening?" He nodded, his head still bent down as if he was kneeling to her in adoration. "Good. Now, this is-"
Before she could finish her sentence, he lashed out with a strong arm against her legs. This time, she was prepared for him. When he made contact, she moved with the blow before swinging her own arms out in a flurry of movement that had him flat on his back this time. The only thing that kept her from beating him to a bloody pulp was that he'd stopped his own attack as soon as he realized what was happening. He kept his hands up in a show of surrender that she found endearing, in an odd way. Normally, when she put a man on the ground like this, she could only sneer at him. This man had done nothing but trying to keep his cousin safe. The arm at her throat hadn't given any ground because she was a woman, either.
She bent over him. "I am going to give you one more chance. The next time you try something like that, I'm going to grab John's gun and shoot you myself. Do we understand each other?" This time, when he nodded, she smiled and offered a hand up. "Good. My name is Teyla. This is John and Evan. We're friends of Amelia."
"She's talked about you before. I just had to be sure. Hope you don't mind, ma'am."
Amelia took Ronon's hand in hers. "How did you get free from them? Tyre said they were going to take out their payment in your flesh this time."
"Yeah, well, I got away. 'Nough said."
"No one gets away from Queenie. Not with the kind of money your dad owed her."
John's mouth was a thin line as he watched the conversation flow around him. When he'd finally had enough of watching and not participating, he shook his head and spoke up. "I only know some of the story. I think you owe me the rest of the story just for the fact that I wasted all this gas on coming here for nothing."
"Not for nothing," Amelia protested. She tugged on Ronon's sleeve to get his attention. "This isn't over and you know it. She didn't just let you go without taking something from you or making you promise something. You're just lucky she didn't kill you this time." When Ronon just shook his head without offering an explanation, Amelia just rolled her eyes.
"Fine, I'm going to tell them if you won't. Ronon's family decided to buy a house out in one of the subdivisions away from this part of town. This is where we grew up." She pointed to the house next door. "That's where I lived and Ronon lived next to that. This house is where our Aunt Ara lives. All one big happy family, living together on the block they grew up on. Ronon's dad worked for years to be able to afford something better for his family. He bought a house and, a year later, found out that it had some serious damage to the foundation and basic structure. They tried getting it fixed but it cost a lot more than they could afford so they decided to go after the contractor."
"We couldn't touch them. Not in court or out," Ronon growled. He tugged his arm away from his cousin as if he couldn't stand to be touched while discussing his past. Teyla felt an odd connection to him in that moment. She didn't like to talk about her family either. John had pulled bits and pieces out of her over the past few years but nothing like what this man was having to endure.
"So you decided to make your own form of justice?" Lorne asked. His voice was soothing and Teyla noticed that he wasn't looking at Ronon but at Amelia even though she had yet to give him anything but a glance now and then.
When Ronon shrugged, John took over the conversation. "So this isn't something that's going to go away. If we factor in the time that Amelia had to spend to travel here and our time away, this is a spendy way to get back at someone who you can't win against. Is anyone actively in trouble? Like, is anyone else being held against their will?" When both Ronon and Amelia shook their head, John smiled in that way he had when he'd come up with what he thought was the best plan for the situation. Most of the time he was right so not a lot of people argued with him. Well, no one else but Rodney, but Teyla was convinced he did it so that John would notice him because he didn't do it nearly as much as he had in the past. "Okay, so here's what we're going to do. Lorne, you're going to drive Amelia back. I assume it will take a little over two days to get back." He held up his hand to silence Lorne when he would have protested. "Two days."
Next, he turned back to Ronon. "Seems to me that you would be better off if you got out of this town for awhile. Why don't you come back in the chopper with me and Teyla? There's always work to be had at the ranch. In the meantime, we'll sic Elizabeth's lawyers on this problem and see what they can't unearth."
Ronon looked down at Amelia to see what she thought of the idea. When she nodded her head, the first smile gracing her lips since they'd arrived, he nodded his head as well. "I don't take hand outs. I'll work to pay off any time the lawyers spend on this issue."
Teyla laughed as John grinned and held out his hand. "Good. Then we'll have you around for a good long time."
Chapter 4: You Need to Unwind From Time to Time
It took two weeks for everything to even out on the Dotted A. Amelia and Lorne had taken three days to get back from Kansas City, trying to convince everyone that the work truck had sprung an oil leak but no bill ever showed up for the repairs. Elizabeth had taken the news of their newest worker with the aplomb that John had expected of her, offering to show Ronon around the ranch and not even batting an eye when he refused. Rodney had been a tad too enthusiastic to hear that there hadn't been any shooting of any kind but John could appreciate his worry and welcome home attention.
Ronon had been the biggest surprise. When John had offered him a job, he'd figured the man would make some small talk and in a few days, be one of the other hands. The problem was that he flat out refused to take part in small talk. Yes, he answered direct questions but he didn't do much more than that. When the conversations swirled around the dining room, he just sat back in his seat and watched everyone. John felt like an exhibit in a zoo at times when the man was staring at him. It was like he was learning what it was that he was supposed to be doing, how he was supposed to act.
Rodney was the one, surprisingly, who picked up on the signs. "He's a kid from the streets. You don't do the wrong thing out there or you get killed."
"And how would you know?" John had chided from his place in front of the computer screen. It was where he was spending all his free time these days and Rodney had learned that he could come in for a visit if he didn't make too much noise. What was noise and what wasn't was always up for discussion. "From watching Cops?"
"I'll have you know, I was in a production of Les Mis when I was in grade school. They taught us how to be street children. I got rave reviews."
"From your mother?"
"And my grandmother."
The conversation had moved on to what Rodney was working on so that John only had to comment in monosyllables after that, but it had set him to thinking. That was exactly what Ronon was doing. He was discovering all the nuances that went in to being a good cowboy. Whatever he had been in his previous life, he had learned to look and listen before acting and speaking.
Over all, John couldn't complain about Ronon's performance when he was working. He knew enough about horses to be slightly afraid of them but not enough that he set them off. Teyla had put him on a horse almost as soon as they'd touched the ground and he'd known enough to know that the animal was docile. That was more than John could say about his first time up on Doc. He was still checking fence line by truck but he was making time to practice his riding so he'd be on the same level with the others soon.
Was it the new love of riding that had him constantly at the stables, John wondered as he powered up the computer after dinner, or the instructor? While Rodney hadn't mentioned the amount of time that Teyla and Ronon were spending together, he had to assume that even the focused scientist hadn't failed to notice. There was most definitely something going on between those two. Love? Maybe. Friendship? Most definitely. He liked the idea of Teyla having a friend. She didn't let many people close. He and Elizabeth were the only ones she spent any of her precious free time and Radak, the Czech scientist who knew who to juggle and could make Torren laugh, was her only choice of babysitter if Amelia was unavailable.
Tonight, he was going to test his theory because tonight was a time for celebration. The only reason he'd even come to his office on this beautiful spring day was to check his emails and, sure enough, there was one here from his editor. Danger on the Range was done with final edits and was going to the printer. Cover art for Murder in the Back Forty had been submitted and the initial outline for Farmhouse Fear had been okayed.
God, he hated those titles but they hadn't been his idea and his real name wasn't on any of them anyway. John just came up with the decent mysteries that filled out the one hundred and fifty pages (if he was lucky) and reaped the rewards. Because he used a pen name at the request of the publisher, they never expected him to go to any book signings or glad-hand any patrons. For a hefty fee, they'd bought and paid for his silence.
Picking up the ranch phone, he dialed the number down to the lab barn and asked for Rodney. Several minutes went by before the extension was finally picked up with a curt, "Yeah?"
"Go take a shower. We're going out."
There was a pause. "John?"
"Who else would it be? Of course, it's John. We're going out. I got good news and I want to celebrate."
"This isn't a good time. I have-"
"It's never a good time," John growled, because it never was. It was impossible to tell if the two of them were dating because they never went on actual dates. They hung out at the ranch house, watching movies and then moving things to one of their bedrooms. Whenever one of them wanted to go out, the other never seemed to be able to get away. It was a damned shame. One of them had to cave and tonight, well, that was going to be Rodney.
"I got the news from my publisher. Tonight, I'm going out on the town. I feel like closing down the bar. If you in, you're in. If not, I'll find someone else." Instead of slamming down the receiver like the little devil on his shoulder wanted him to do, John added, "Please come."
There was a sigh on the other end of the line. "Give me fifteen minutes."
"Fifteen and no more."
John flicked down the handle with his finger before dialing the number to the horse barn. "Teyla? It's John. I got confirmation from my publisher. Yeah, I know. Great, right? So, I was thinking of going by Jack's and having a few rounds. Maybe shoot some pool. Throw some darts. See where the night takes us. You and Ronon want to join me? Well, and Rodney if he gets moving fast enough. Yeah, I can give you fifteen minutes. No more than that or I'm out on my own. Okay, okay. I won't go on my own. Not again."
He was smiling when he hung up the phone. Since he didn't need to freshen up, having done that before dinner, he leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms over his head. Sometimes, he really liked his life.
In twenty minutes, almost exactly to the minute, Rodney, Ronon and John crowded into John's work truck. Teyla, at the last minute, had discovered that Torren was running a fever and had to back out. It was only at her insistance that Ronon hadn't stayed back with her. Still, he was watching the back door as if he assumed she would burst through it at any minute, begging him to stay behind.
"Torren's a tough kid. They have a tendency to get fevers when they're teething," John mentioned, as if he had to convince Ronon that he wasn't needed and this wasn't some elaborate ruse that Teyla had come up with to get him out of the house. "And Torren's cut a lot of teeth lately. He just gets cranky and it helps to have his mama around."
Rodney was the one to grunt this time while Ronon said, "Probably isn't anything to worry about."
"Nope. Nothing to worry about. Just a normal part of being a kid."
"I was in the hospital four time before I was five," Rodney offered.
Ronon immediately stiffened up. "Maybe we should-"
"He won't need to go to the hospital for this fever. Rodney had to go to the hospital because he had croup. It's a great story unless you're eating and then it's kind of gross. Maybe he can tell it... later." John shot Rodney a glare. Just then, the tires hit a particularly deep groove in the road and the conversation lagged as they tried not to hit each other or the roof or the dashboard. As a distraction, it worked perfectly.
There weren't many vehicles in front of the Jackalope, or Jack's as the locals called it, but it was still early yet. The sun had set hours ago but the weather was starting to warm up and most of the farmers and ranchers in the area were starting to think about spring as if it might just show up when the calendar said it should. It was always iffy in these parts. But the warmer weather after the cold winter they'd had was giving people hope and keeping them working longer to be ready for the warmth the moment it showed up.
"Tonight's on me, boys." John was feeling generous but he'd also figured that Rodney wouldn't drink more than one beer and even that would take awhile. While he didn't know how much of a drinker Ronon was, he didn't seem like the kind of guy that would get stinking drunk. At least, not his first night out. One drink each would probably be the max each of them consume so he'd be taking some of the cash in his wallet home with him.
"Wish it really was," Rodney muttered before moving off to see what the line was like at the pool table. Ever since he'd learned the game, Rodney had become the become something of an expert. No one would play him for money but plenty of players lined up to see if they could best him at least one time. To date, no one had.
No one, that was, until Ronon. By the time John got to the table with the drinks in hand, both men had their sticks out and were concentrating on the table. "Who's winning?" he asked, fully expecting to hear Rodney crowing about beating yet another unexpected sap.
This time, it was Ronon's smile he saw. "Me. Rodney really beat everyone in town?"
"This one and the next over. You're really winning?"
Ronon nodded but his smile didn't dim. In fact, it broadened as Rodney began to grumble about what a fickle bitch fate could be. To his credit, he never once laughed. Not in that game or the rematch that Rodney demanded after that one. A crowd gathered but everyone was silent as they watched the reigning champion was toppled.
"Beaten by a caveman," he muttered as he sank down on the chair beside John. "The guy can barely string three words together yet he someone understands the basic dynamics of geometry enough to be able to pull off two wins without even trying."
"Don't be a sore loser, Rodney. He had you-" A yell brought John's head up as he looked for the problem. Sure enough, just as he feared, he saw Ronon fly through the crowd. He knew, for a fact, that Ronon wasn't an easy man to throw around. When he saw a huge man stalk after him, only to pick him up like a child and hurl him back the way he'd come, John knew they were in for some trouble.
"Stay here, Rodney," he shouted as he stood up and unbuttoned the cuffs of his long-sleeved shirt. "I need to go help Ronon."
Surprisingly, Rodney surged to his feet as well. His smile was predatory. "No, this is one of those times I'm going to help. You can't have all the fun tonight."
"Suit yourself." John shook his head as he tried to figure out who was going to be in more trouble in the next several minutes - Ronon or Rodney? No matter. John would do his best to defend both of them.
Continued in part 2.