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On a Dark Horse	By : TarnishedArmour Category: G through L > Jericho Views: 1536 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Jericho is wholly owned by CBS and those affiliated with & responsible for the production and creation of the show. I make no profit from the use of said fandom, except warm-fuzzies from reviews.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
Time frame: Bombs + 6(ish) at the end; covers Bombs + 4-5 in a semi-gloss prose.
=-+=-+=-+=-+=-+
It was past midnight. Jonah had put the groups on shifts, and Titus had gotten the farmers to agree to split their time between their farms and the hauling. Noah had taken a few hours to rest after getting the ammo run to Johnston, and now he was taking over for Jonah on-site. Jonah and Aylah, a very grouchy Aylah, were returning to the office with a load of the metal ingots and car parts.
"If you want something tonight, Big J, you're out of luck." Aylah's murmur was barely audible over the engine noise.
"Aylah…shut up." Jonah didn't bother to raise his voice over a whisper. He was too busy trying to keep his eyes open and his attention on the road. The soft, even breathing beside him told him that Aylah wasn't listening. Jonah turned his attention to the road and some of the things they'd found over the day. What was he going to do with six cars worth of raw cotton?
*****
Jake and Heather finished pulling the loading ramp into the truck and pulled the door shut.
"Last load, Heather. We're off-shift until morning." Jake struggled to hold back a yawn.
"You're supposed to do another aerial tomorrow," she said, succumbing to the need to stretch her jaw.
"Not happening. Not with this to finish." He looked at the train. After the first several loads had been hauled in, they'd changed tactics. Each car had been checked for usefulness, the most useful things were taken first. The car filled with computer games and other electronics had been relegated by Jonah and Titus as "damned near useless" and left for later.
"Yeah. I just can't help wondering…" her voice trailed off as she looked down the rails to the last cars. They were pipe-and-log cars, and then there were the fuel tanks.
"Earth to Heather?" Jake said interrupting her pause.
"Oh. The fuel. We've tapped one of the tanks today--"
"Thanks to you, oh gasoline thief," he said, a tired smile taking the sting out of the words. She grinned back, just as feebly.
"But propane? The rest of it? One of Jonah's guys said they didn't have fuel trucks--something about the licensing requirements."
"Hazardous materials and small commercial transport don't quite mix. The gas companies tend to use their own tanks, but hire the drivers based on their own criteria. Besides, Jonah didn't want the fees associated with keeping the tanker trucks. He bitched enough about the two refrigerator trucks he had a few years back. Those didn't last long." They'd walked back to the cab and Heather took the wheel as Jake took shotgun. He'd started out driving, but after Mitchell had mentioned something about letting 'his honeypot' go it alone, he'd headed over and helped her out.
Emily hadn't stayed with them long, instead taking the job of positioning the trucks for loading and monitoring weights for private vehicles. Even though she had irritated her father during her wild years with Jake, she had learned the business part of the Jonah's enterprises almost without effort. Jake realized what Emily was doing. She should have continued driving, but she had a knack for the business and the vehicles that she had inherited from her father. No one was stupid enough to mention it to her, though. She was in a snappish mood, and it hadn't gotten any better when Jake had gone to help Heather.
Helping Heather. That was a joke, but it was his own fault that he'd been forced into her company. Forced probably wasn't the right word. He enjoyed working with the perky brunette. It was the way he had had to go keep her company and join her in the loading and driving--guarding on his part--that irked him. She seemed oblivious and was perfectly happy to have him around. He felt like a jackass, which was about par for the course where Emily and Jonah were involved. Mitch had made the comment, not Jonah. That made it worse, but there was too much to get done in a short amount of time to go deck the offending party. And he had invited the teasing, however malicious it was intended to be.
Well, he'd made the claim--even if Heather had no idea what he'd done. Better to keep her with him than around the others and unattached. She wasn't in danger, but he wasn't sure how she would take Mitch's brand of flirting. It was better to be there and lend a bit of protection by "claiming" her than to subject her to the crude comments of the guys. Jonah wouldn't let anyone touch her, but tempting fate was, in Jake's opinion, just plain stupid.
Now, so long as they stayed away from the office at night, no one would have to know about the reality of their relationship; more specifically, that there was no relationship.
"Oh." She climbed into the cab and turned the key. After several minutes of quiet, Heather asked, "Do you think Jonah would let me use his garage? I was listening to D'Shea about the maintenance, and I could really use a place to work on Charlotte."
"Charlotte?" he asked, wondering what else she could say that would surprise him. She knew how to work on cars? It seemed like every other sentence made him readjust his impression of her.
"My truck." Heather perked up thinking about restoring her baby. "She's been pretty badly used, but she's sturdy. Needs more engine work, though, and I won't even get into the bodywork…" Heather rambled on happily for several minutes.
The more Jake listened and watched, the more fascinated he was by her. Emily had been wonderful, wild and wicked, and he still loved her, but Heather was what his grandfather would call a class-A little firecracker. Emily had appealed to his emotions, but Heather simply intrigued him. He admired her, enjoyed her company, and was continuously wondering about what she thought and what random knowledge she'd come up with. No, she was nothing like the siren call of Emily. Heather demanded that he think to keep up with her, to anticipate her. Emily had been instinct and gut and pain and sensation. Was the fact that he found thinking so attractive a sign that he'd finally grown up? Or was it a sign that he'd outgrown Emily?
"Well?" she asked.
Jake had stopped listening a while ago, just enjoying watching her talk about something she enjoyed so much, wondering what else could put that expression on her face. He was guess chocolate and a new set of socket wrenches. And maybe a pair of sexy heels with an ankle strap--but he wasn't willing to bet on that. The socket wrenches, though…And she'd asked him a question. Dammit! What was it? Oh. Right.
"Hm? Oh. No, Jonah won't mind. He might put you to work doing other things, which means you don't get back in the classroom anytime soon. Unless Dad demands it."
"I can handle that," she said softly. "I'm a good teacher, Jake, but right now? I'll be babysitting, not teaching. And there are others who can handle that--if the kids even show up." The memory of the school bus coming back late with a 9-year-old with straws in her throat was still eating at several parents. None of her elementary students had gone to school yesterday, which had put her at loose ends, until the mayor's messenger had found her.
Jake let the silence fall back between them, wanting to warn her about the way Jonah could just take over your life, even when you were looking out for yourself. But it was late and the words wouldn't come. Or maybe he couldn't find the right words and force them out. He wasn't good with words. Actions, okay so he wasn't good with those either--he tended to crash and burn. But there had to be some way to keep her safe from the darker influences there.
Then again, maybe she didn't need any help. Maybe she could hold out against Jonah--maybe that bright-eyed enthusiasm and innocence was the key. Would she succumb to the things that drew him to the darker side of Jericho? The same leadership his father had, but without the strict moral code? The honesty that was a combination of spitting in the 'good people's' eye and staying alive in a world where breaking your word could mean death? Or would she keep him safe from falling back into old habits, old patterns of thought? From the old ways that had burned him so badly in Iraq?
Even with everything he'd been through, maybe because of everything he'd been through, there was something about Jonah that drew him. Heather might be his only lifeline to keep out of Jonah's grip, since his father seemed to be letting the man back into town. Even more surprising, Johnston was letting Jonah take Jake as help, even going so far as to volunteer Jake for Jonah's work. Granted, Jake was doing other things as well, but after all that had happened, wouldn't it make more sense for Johnston to keep Jake as far from his old mentor as possible?
Or was he just doomed to forever disappoint the one man whose good opinion mattered most to him?
*****
It took another four shifts to finish unloading the train of the most useful items, which comprised approximately one-third of the train. The planes were presently being disassembled, the metal skins and parts hauled to the airfield for Old Man Adams.
A group of older women was taking care of the luggage that had been on the airplanes, carefully unpacking, sorting, and repacking what was deemed to be purely personal property. Clothing, toiletries, foodstuffs were all sent to storage in town. Pictures, diaries, cards--those were stored carefully with the names of the owners on them. The warehouse that held this effort was led by a quiet lady named Jenny Clarind, Titus's wife. The older women had pulled some very personal things for use, like lingerie and computers, while putting various toys and dolls back into storage. Had anyone asked, Jenny would have explained her rationale with her usual calm, low voice. As no one was willing to disturb this particular chore, she was left with no conflicting input from the town.
The trains had been stripped of the most immediately useful things. After that, most of the people went back to their jobs and the work of survival. Jonah met with Johnston and the inventory supervisors, Mimi's position taken over for this meeting by Mary Bailey, who had benefited greatly from the large amount of various alcohols found in one boxcar. She had the only tavern, and so she got the alcohol. In return, she had to take over the briefing while Mimi was out, as she had put it, 'negotiating living space and conditions.' Since the IRS lady had mentioned something about audits making good blackmail, Mary could only wait to hear the outcome from Stanley. Mary was privately betting on Stanley's easy charm and stone-stubborn nature.
Jonah was left with a list of things that hadn't been unloaded and were, mostly, unexpected and unusual boons--if one knew what to do with them. The fabric was easy. The huge pipes, cotton bales, and electronic equipment, not so much. He'd mention them to Johnston at the end, after finding out what, exactly, they'd managed to get into the storefronts. After the first long day, everything had blurred together as a string of quick decisions, pleasant and unpleasant surprises.
"Okay, so here's where we stand," Mary began, more than a bit nervous about the gathering. It wasn't enough that Johnston and Jonah and the majority of the city workers--or their bosses--were present, along with several interested citizens, mostly appointed or elected as messengers to their section of town. Eric was there. Instead of worrying about what the reaction would be to the unexpected selection of sex toys, she was worried about what Eric would think if she botched this. In hindsight, she would decide she really should've worried about saying certain words in front of the preacher's wife.
Several useful things had been found, like the crates of batteries ranging from AAA to 12V to nickel-cadmium; the pesticides and fertilizers; the ammunition and weapons; the greenhouse and gardening materials; gas, coal, and other fuels; a gross of solar cells; dozens of clothing shipments for larger cities; and the set of blacksmith's equipment that had been on its way to a man in Wichita area. Titus and Maddie Clarind nodded as the list grew in length and usefulness. Jonah's head snapped up as Mary continued down the list, comfortable in the simple task of reading a long list after the first several items. He was about to ask her to repeat herself, but the preacher's wife beat him to it.
"I'm sorry, dear," the elderly lady said, interrupting Mary's impersonal reading of the inventory. It had been over 30 minutes, and they were into the less important finds. "But what did you say there was a case of? Dials?"
"No," Mary said, not even blinking, "dildos. There are also seventy sets of handcuffs, three cases of vibrators in various sizes and colors, some assorted domination and bondage paraphernalia including the standard chains and whips, a dozen penis-and-breast shaped ice trays, various nude and/or pornographic calendars, magazines, DVDs, videos, some other novelty items, and a few things no one is quite sure what they could be used for, unless it's a bizarre form of electrolysis." She glanced further down the page of her list to make sure she hadn't missed anything. "Oh. And one blow-up sheep."
Jake, who had slipped into the back of the room with the newest set of aerial photographs he and Heather had just gotten developed, hacked and coughed into his hand, remembering a threat he'd made to Stanley years ago regarding a blow-up sheep. He hoped no one could tell he was trying not to laugh. His mother, sitting in the front of the room near Johnston, gave him a dirty look. Jonah was more fortunate--he had years of biting his tongue and refusing to laugh aloud. The look on the old lady's face! But, were Miss Maddie's eyes gleaming?
Something about the idea of Miss Maddie owning a pair of handcuffs did not engender nausea, but sheer terror. The woman had left a deep impression on him, mostly in the form of fingers twisting his ear and the extensive hours of detention mowing the school's grounds. On the bright side, Johnston would share those memories, since her other hand had generally been connected to the older boy's ear.
"Oh my," the preacher's wife said, eyes glazing over in shock. "Surely that shipment wasn't meant for Jericho!"
"Ummm…the manifest said it was destined for New Bern, actually. Anyone ever hear of Lady Heather's House of Hedonism?" Mary looked up, gazing around the room. With those fateful words, every eye had turned to a certain petite brunette.
Heather was studying the 10x14 photographs she was holding. The absolute silence in the room finally caught her attention. When she looked up, every eye was focused on her.
"What?" she asked, completely oblivious to what Mary had been saying. Jake whispered the question to her, the susurrations loud in the unnatural quiet.
"You mean the crazy old lady is still in business?" Heather yelped, eyes wide. "I thought she'd died last year!" The silence got louder. Finally Johnston came to the rescue.
"Well, we'll figure out something to do with all of that. Eventually." He was interrupted by a wicked chuckle from Miss Maddie. Several other coughs and titters were heard throughout the slightly scandalized crowd. Johnston pressed his shin against the edge of his desk and used a tiny bit of pain to keep from blushing. Of all the blatantly stupid things to say… "Meanwhile, we have some decisions to make. We have seed, greenhouses, and various other things available now. Do we go ahead and set up secondary farms inside those? If so, how do we heat them, light them, and so on? How are we going to distribute the clothing and material? How are we going to determine fair pay, mortgage bonds, and the like? Most of our goods come from outside town, if not outside Kansas, and our industry is severely limited to the mine, the farms, and a few large businesses. There's money in town and in the bank, but we're on our own until we can manage some sort of contact with the outside world again. We need to think like the pioneers did when they founded this town, but we've got more people and more of some resources. We also have different needs and knowledge. I'm open to ideas here."
Jonah spoke up, finally voicing something he that had been nagging him for the past few days. "It's been over five days and we don't have power back yet. Fuel is, even with the tankers on the track, limited. We need to look at alternate forms of power, just in case something did happen to Topeka and the surrounding area, since our power comes from that area. And we need to consider that, with communications out and the size of our town, we are going to be low on the list of places to get back into service. If this blackout lasts, winter is going to be a particularly cold hell."
Johnston wanted to throw something at Jonah. Trust the man to twig directly to one of the worst-case scenarios and one of the things Johnston had been hoping to address after ideas started flowing through the room for other, smaller, concerns. Damn the man. Again.
"Windmills," Heather said, a single blurted word into the suddenly uneasy silence. "We can put together windmills. Solar cells for Kansas in winter would be pointless, but one thing we have plenty of is wind."
"Carl?" Johnston called on the city engineer. "Look into it. Get back to us with some sort of plan in the next two or three days." Carl nodded and made a note on his clipboard. He had also noted several different items his department could use for the city. This was one more thing to consider, and maybe they could figure out a solution.
Johnston looked out at the crowd again. "All right, with Carl and his men looking into that, if anyone knows about how to put together a wind turbine, or knows about electrical work for a city of any size, please put together what you know and let Carl have it to look over. Anything else that we need to address immediately?" He tried not to glare at Jonah. The glare, or lack thereof, made no difference to the man who irritated Johnston more than his own prodigal son did.
"We also have some things out on that train that we have room to store, but no idea what use they'll be. With the blackout, the electronics are useless--we can put them in the fallout shelters for now, just to keep any idiots from thinking they're fair game. But we have pipes, heavy construction materials, unprocessed cotton in bales, and literally tons of other things that we don't have any immediate use for. My men will continue bringing these things to the warehouses--the things that will fit--but what can we do with the rest?" Jonah shook his head. "Ideas?"
"Construction yard makes sense for those pipes--" one man began.
"The pipes aren't getting taken off those flatcars without a crane." Jonah shook his head. "They're at least thirty-six inch reinforced concrete and the smallest lengths over ten feet per section. The largest lengths are about a hundred feet in length. There are also steel pipes of the same size, as well as solid metal rods in lengths between forty and one hundred feet. We need some serious lifting power to get these taken care of. And what the hell use are they after that?" Jonah was not in the construction business, nor was he interested in the town infrastructure.
The man nodded, obviously considering the ways the pipes could be moved and stored for later. One lady, a woman who had lived through the depression and was widely considered to be the oldest citizen in Jericho, added her thoughts. She was a spry old lady, but she tired easily. Her voice held a small tremolo of exhaustion as she spoke.
"The cotton can be processed. Several of us learned to spin and weave by hand." A tiny smile ghosted over her wrinkled face. "It was a long time before Jericho got full power, so we learned to do things the old way." The lady looked over at Miss Maddie, "Something you youngsters seem to have forgotten." Tired she may have been, but the light, teasing tone made Maddie smile.
"Mm-hmm, but not all of us." Maddie Clarind added. She had been born into the Depression, but her memories of work and life really started during the war years. "And speaking of youngsters, those children need to get back into school." She pulled a document several pages thick and yellowed with age from the bag at her feet. "Now, this may sound odd to many of you, but old E.J. asked me to put together a plan for education to continue shortly after the Cuban Missile Crisis. Now, the population's grown some," several people chuckled, "but the bones are still good.
"Everyone here knows my views on idle young'uns and trouble," she raised one eyebrow at Johnston and glanced over to Jonah as well, "and who said that these children can't be useful? The basic premise is simple--they work in the library and research information for alternative ways of living, in this case without several modern conveniences, and in the afternoons work with mentors as apprentices. It will take a bit of time before they all find a comfortable fit for the afternoon work, but they'll continue learning." Maddie smiled, a faint, knowing smile. "And I've found hard work is an excellent motivator for academic excellence."
Johnston grunted, then chuckled. "There's nothing quite like hard labour to make sitting down to a book a luxury." He nodded, and was about to speak when the principal spoke up.
"Miss Maddie, please bring your paper to my house this evening. I'll keep the fire warm and the coffee hot." The man looked at Johnston, then the crowd. "I know you want your kids at home, where you can keep them safe, but if we keep them in school, they'll feel less adrift." His jaw tightened, "And stay out of trouble."
Several heads nodded. They'd noticed a lot more in the way of misbehaviour in the last few days, and this would serve two useful purposes. The children would be educated, and the town would have a small army of researchers working through the library stacks and private book collections.
Another lady, who had been whispering to her husband, had gathered the interest of several people around her. After some urging that caught the attention of most of the room, Johnston made her choice simple.
"Looks like we got someone with an idea back in the back," he said, his voice kind but gruff. He did not want to waste time on tender sensibilities or shyness. People needed to speak up now, while they had a group together.
Reluctantly, the lady stood and chimed in.
"Have you considered using the greenhouse materials to create old-fashioned orangeries?" Several people turned to look at the woman, most of them curious about the idea. She stumbled over her next words and then settled into an explanation. "They're not diff…Maybe it won't work here…I just…It's the way oranges were grown in England in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. They had large, heated rooms, most of which were half-sunken to help keep the warmth in. We have the equipment and the land to create sunken greenhouses, which would make the amount of material we need for each one even less--and having earth sided walls, at least for part of the walls, would keep the heat in better."
Nods went around the room.
"Is the nursery lady here?" Johnston asked. A woman dressed in a grubby pair of overalls and a warm jacket stood. "Can you get with Mrs.--I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."
"Belinda Carlisle," she said, her husband's hand slipping into hers for support.
"Belinda, then. Would you talk with Hattie Russell here about the way to put these together? She owns the nursery here in town, and she's got the greenest thumb around."
Miss Maddie laughed. "Everybody talks to her about their plants, even Stanley and my brother-in-law. And don't worry about the labour. We got plenty of people needein' something to do that will contribute food for later. Is there a limit on the yields in these orangeries? Or the crops?"
"I…I wouldn't try to plant wheat or corn, but most smaller plants will do nicely. Potatoes, carrots…anything that can be grown in a pot anyway. Definitely berries and vine vegetables." Belinda blinked, then slowly sat down as Hattie Russell began making her way through the group to sit next to her. Their conversation quickly moved from the town meeting to the door, then over to the Carlisle's house. A few people whose families had owned farms years ago followed them, and Johnston felt a weight raise off his chest. At least they had possible solutions for sustenance in the works.
Subjects were raised and batted around the room, several people volunteering to look into or hold meetings at their houses for a small group to put together a workable solution for what might be needed in the future. Things were pulling together. Another question came up about meats and the rules for hunting, since they had more than a few days before the food supply ran out now. The train and planes had rendered more than six weeks worth of supplies for the entire town, though not all of those were edible. Bethanne made a note on her list about hunting, putting Eric's name beside it. Hunting laws fell under the legal section of the equation and legal questions tended to go to Eric, at least for research and general implementation. Actual practice went to one of the seven attorneys in town. Three of them had been in Denver for a national conference.
*****
Jonah watched as the meeting broke up with ideas flowing back and forth across the room, different groups agreeing to meet at different houses and designating topics for discussion. He looked over at Johnston and felt something odd. It had been a long time since he'd contributed something good to this town. Longer since he hadn't been looked at sideways just for entering a room. That odd feeling was pride in his own part of the equation. He didn't want to lose it. As he walked over to Johnston, he noticed Jake and Heather coming forward, too.
"Johnston, Gail," he began, considering his next words carefully. He hadn't been more specific earlier because he hadn't wanted to cause a panic in the town, but there was something important on his mind, courtesy of Aylah's past and a few close calls at the wreck site. "If the power stays out, the Clinic will need everything we can get for fuel, unless there's a quick-fix with that windmill idea. I'd like to have Aylah look over the blueprints and city plans for that block. Everything else in town can make do without power until your group gets a plan in place, but if the med center goes dark, we are in a world of trouble."
"I'll help," Heather offered.
"Just what is your degree in, Miss Lisinski?" Johnston asked, finally curious enough about her varied talents and irritated enough with her to raise the question.
"Physics, actually." She grimaced. "But I also wanted to teach--so I had a double major. Minored in Applied Mechanics." Jake looked over at her and grinned. Big blue eyes narrowed. "If you so much as think the word overachiever, you're walking to the airport next week."
"Actually the word that came to mind was 'workaholic'," he replied, his grin widening. Heather shook her head and continued.
"The efficiency of any windmill will be dictated by its design, and since the windspeeds can vary so much here, even though the wind never really stops, I'd like the chance to look over what the engineers come up with--or what Aylah? was that her name?--comes up with for the clinic." Jonah nodded and promised he'd mention it.
Gail surprised herself and everyone else when she addressed Jonah. "If it hadn't been for you and your boys, we'd never have managed to get these things in before they were ruined. Especially the medicines and the farm supplies. It's been cold enough that the medicines were still good, but that feed and seed…" She took a deep breath and did something completely unexpected. "Thank you, Jonah."
Everyone stared at the redheaded woman, known for her straight-talk, whether you wanted to hear it or not.
"My pleasure, Gail," Jonah replied, the surprise in his eyes making her believe the words. It wasn't forgiveness-not by a long shot--but it was a start. Jake pulled the conversation out of the Twilight Zone by holding up the pictures he and Heather had snapped close to noon.
"Got new intel," he said, addressing his father in particular. "And it doesn't look any worse. There's another train, a smaller one, ten miles inside the county line on our side. It'd be a trip, but we can at least check it out."
"Mm." Johnston rubbed his face. "All right. A quick trip to observe, then, if it's worthwhile, we'll get to it as soon as we can. Otherwise, we'll finish with the one closest to town and see where we stand. I want to get people planning for a month from now, at the least. If possible, I want them to start looking toward March and what we'll have if we just keep going as we are."
Mary had stayed, wanting to hear more about the way they'd decide to distribute some of these things. "I think the seeds are planted, Mayor Green. Now we have to see what people come up with."
Jonah nodded and prepared to leave. "And with that, I need to get back and talk to Aylah. I'll send Stevie with the list of what we took out to the office. He's been organizing and packing while Leon and Billy have been working on the inventory. The rest of the men are pulling in loads for town."
"What did you keep, Jonah?" Johnston asked, his tone curious. In the past few days, Jonah had proven to be just as valuable as that Aylah hellcat had promised. Years had gone by without Johnston thinking of Jonah as anything but a pest and an outlaw, but now he could remember some of their time as kids--and that Jonah hadn't been much different from himself.
"Copper pipes, wires, fittings; metal ingots; some other things that Aylah wanted to look over. Certain things can be altered or refitted or even remade. She's got the experience and ability, I've got most of the tools." Jonah shrugged. "Seemed to be a fair division of labour."
"Would you mind having Old Man Adams and Oliver out to help? Adams is damned strong at finding practical uses for otherwise useless things, and Oliver has a knack with seeing the potential for small mechanical bits." Johnston omitted that Oliver was also completely nuts, but both men understood why. He'd been a gentle boy, before the draft. After spending time as a POW in Hanoi, well, he'd never been the same. Then again, neither had Johnston or Jonah, and neither one of them had been captured.
Jonah nodded. "Tomorrow." He looked out the window at the gathering dark. "I need to get back." He looked at Jake and Heather. "Drop in tomorrow. Seems like Heather has a good background, and you're handy to have around, Jake."
Jake nodded, a twitch in his jaw the only evidence of his displeasure, and put his hand at Heather's waist, surprising her a bit, but not shocking her. He'd been doing little things like that since she'd met Jonah. She figured he was just being protective, but she couldn't quite figure out why. Jonah seemed nice, even if he did come on a little stronger than she liked.
The thought of taking Heather out to Jonah's after the way he'd spoken up for her when his men first saw her gave Jake a headache. He'd do it, though. He could see the agreement on his father's face, the tentative encouragement on his mother's. And he wasn't going to let Heather go out there alone the first time. He'd taken her on as his responsibility, just to be safe. Now he was enjoying the company, but he dreaded explaining it to her. With any luck, he'd be able to avoid that until he'd convinced her to keep him around as more than a friend. He said something to Jonah about being there at a decent hour and watched as the man left.
As he spread out the pictures and Heather made notes on the whiteboard that had been pushed to the side for the meeting, Mary talked with Johnston and Gail about the distribution scheme they'd most likely be putting into place. Jake's hands paused suddenly.
Convince Heather to keep him around as more than a friend? But…he still loved Emily, didn't' he?
He worked to shove the thought from his mind as Johnston wound up his conversation with Mary and returned to the table to see the latest near-time map. No matter how much he liked Heather, no matter that his eyes wanted to follow her as she hobbled around the room, this report couldn't be botched by his own unruly thoughts.
*****
"So the brunette wants to check my work?" Aylah asked, half amused, half angry at the idea. "You sure this isn't an excuse to get another woman out here? Tired of me already, Big J?" They were in his room, she was drying off as he took off his boots.
Jonah looked down at his own personal hellcat. "Only when you get like this, Aylah. And she didn't say anything about checking your work. She has a complementary degree. Let her use it. Besides, this town is short on people who know their way around real tools. Most people, especially the farmers, can deal with their own small problems, but there's only a handful of people who do my kind of work." Jonah shook his head. "Or your kind."
Aylah nodded, accepting that explanation. That didn't make it any easier to swallow, though. The thought of someone else vetting her work on a simple wind-driven electric generator grated against her professional pride. She was good at what she did, and she never had really played well with others. Except Jake.
"Besides," he continued, taking off his shirt and moving to the shower, "Jake's already claimed her, mostly to keep anyone from here from chasing her tail, I think. He's coming here with her tomorrow. He's useful, so you can put him almost anywhere in the shop and he'll find something worthwhile to do." Jonah didn't stop to consider that no small part of that was due to the way Jonah had demanded excellence from Jake--even if the skills Jake learned had been applied in quasi-legal and flatly illegal areas. Jake was only a screw-up when it came to morality. He was a damned smart boy.
"Does she know that?" Aylah asked. Jonah understood her meaning.
"If she doesn't now, she will soon," he said, stepping into the hot water. After the long days, he was looking forward to the heat loosening the muscles that were screaming for mercy. It was going to have to be a long shower. He stretched his arms out and put his palms on the cool tiles, letting the water run down his neck and back. The heat was a welcome relief. He wondered how long it would take for Aylah to decide to be reasonable about Heather coming out here. Knowing her, it could be weeks. He was thinking he'd have a nice, hot shower and hoped for a restful night. If Aylah decided to be difficult, he could only hope she'd wait until morning to cause trouble. He was tense enough now that if he didn't relax, he wouldn't sleep. That wouldn't be good for anyone, including himself.
Back in the bedroom, Aylah thought over the conversation. After several minutes, she discarded the towel and walked into the steamy bathroom. She stepped into the shower behind him, ignoring the fact that she'd just finished drying off. He glanced over his shoulder at Aylah in surprise when he felt her arms wrapping around him and her body pressing against him. He didn't speak, didn't question this unusually sweet gesture of hers. She leaned against him for a long minute before she slid her hands to his shoulders and started kneading out the tension. He groaned as the knots in his neck and shoulders started to loosen, his knees threatening to give out at the sudden release of tension. When her hands slid down to work the long muscles by his spine, he felt more than just relief. After several minutes, he turned around and began to return the favour, pulling her against him and working his hands along the worst knots in her back. He felt her shift against him as the tension worked out of her and smiled when she sighed and nuzzled his neck.
Or not a not-so-restful night.
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On a Dark Horse