Page 41 of Homestead

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It’s late when Jimmy and I are finally on our way home. He’s pulling the cooler again, cleaned out and now holding our milk, cheese, and butter from the Hurleys.

The night is dark because it’s a new moon. While we’re on the road by the farms and houses, I’m perfectly comfortable, but once we start up the hill toward the woods, I actually feel a little nervous.

Jimmy always carries weapons, but still… Darkness is dangerous, and I’m not used to being out in it.

“You okay?” he asks after a while.

“Yeah.” I smile up at him so he won’t know what I’m thinking.

He reaches over with his free hand and pulls me closer. “You scared?”

“No. Not really.”

“It’s pretty safe around here. The bad sorts tend to stay over toward the border to The Wild. But if you’re worried, we can leave earlier next time.”

“No, no. I’m fine. And I know you can take care of any problems. I’m just not good at defending myself.”

“Yeah. Not sure I like that.” He’s frowning now.

“I just never… never had a chance to learn. My grandpa never wanted me to use a gun.”

“I get that. Not your fault. But what would you think about me teaching you? I don’t like you bein’ helpless when I’m not around.”

“I’d be happy for you to teach me. Thank you.” I’m smiling again, for real this time. “I’d feel better too.”

“Okay, good. We’ll work on that. I got a smaller pistol that Mary used to use. You can have that.”

I’m about to answer when two figures appear at the rise of the hill. I’m so startled I shrink toward Jimmy automatically.

He pulls out his gun from the holster on his belt and aims it toward the two men approaching. He’s also got his rifle strapped to his back and a second pistol on his ankle. He never leaves the house unarmed.

I don’t recognize these men. Neither does he because he doesn’t lower his weapon as they get closer.

I don’t like the looks of them. It’s hard to explain exactly why, but they look dangerous. Not like our neighbors around here.

They don’t say anything as they pass, and they stay on the other side of the road.

Jimmy turns around so his back isn’t toward them as they keep walking away.

I hear one of them say as they’re almost out of range, “Lucky bastard.”

It takes me a minute to realize he must be referring to me. Jimmy is a lucky bastard because he’s with me.

What else could he mean?

“Don’t like the looks of ’em,” Jimmy mutters when they’re finally out of sight.

“Yeah, me either.”

“Might be part of the gangs. They shouldn’t be this far into our territory.”

“What will happen if they get too close?”

“We’ll have to fight ’em again.” He sighs, making a face. “Really don’t wanna have to do that.”

“Oh. Me either.”

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