Settlement: WOLF CROSSING

Chapter 3: The Weight of Azure

On the short walk to Starr's, Rachel thought about Duncan's glimmering azure eyes and his wavy dark-brown hair that had sun-streaked lighter shades that were more evident in the sunlight. The ends of his longer hair across his nape curled up just above his shirt's collar and made it irresistible for her not to want to reach over and slide her fingers through the strands.

She knocked on the door and Starr immediately came to answer the summons.

“Hey.” Rachel smiled. “Duncan is loading up for his trip north. Do you have anything to send?”

“Oh my goodness! Yes I do! Thanks for coming over. I hadn't realized how late it was. Come in. I'll get the packages for you.”

As Starr rummaged in the common area of her house gathering the material and items, Rachel stood near the door. “No rush. Duncan was heading over to Solomon's and Donal's, and you know how those men can lose track of time.”

Like most residents in the settlement, Starr lived in what was once a shipping container. While Rachel had no idea what that meant, she had heard about large moving boxes made of metal that road across the Republic land on steel tracks. Steel was not a commodity she or anyone else in Wolf Crossing had even been privy to, but she had heard wondrous stories passed down from later generations about such travel and vessels and buildings that reached the clouds.

The shipping containers were made of hard metal that were visible on the four walls and ceiling, while the floors were made from wood planks. Most had rotted out when Rachel started cleaning and repairing the main building; so when people moved into a container, they had to replace the floorboards. Each resident was permitted to cut out windows and either encase with glass, when available, or whatever clear cover they could find. Some people put up wood shutters, while most didn't even cut out holes for windows. The expenditure of having a window was beyond some people's reach so they chose to use more oil lamps and candles to enlighten their dwellings.

Starr had decorated her house as best as she could, considering her feeble earnings. After feeding and raising the sheep and goats she had for cotton and other fabrics, she lived very six-penny and barely had enough to survive. It wasn't until the nomads came to town every spring that Starr would have a surplus of currency earnings added to her tag card.

Starr laughed and handed Rachel two boxes. “I have some new spun cotton that I need to work on this weekend. When's Duncan heading back up north?”

“Probably the first part of next week.”

“Okay. I should have it ready by then.” Starr looked around the room. “Well, I believe that's all of it for now. Thanks again.”

“Anytime. Let me get these back to the post for him.”

She bid goodbye to her friend with a promise to stop by over the weekend so they could catch up. As she strolled down the main thoroughfare towards the trading post, Rachel heard someone calling her name. Instantly she recognized the voice and ignored the plea for her to stop. She quickened her steps, hoping to get inside the main building and out of his sight.

She picked up her pace, hoping to make it to the postal room before he entered the main building. She got inside the room, slammed the door and set the packages from Starr on the counter. Just as she caught her breath, someone rang the bell from the outside of the postal. With her hand on her chest she strode across the room toward the small sliding counter top window. She swooshed open the divider and saw a resident of the community.

“I need to see if I have any post.” The woman replied. “Hannigan. Otis or Cora Hannigan.”

“Let me check.” Rachel scanned the shelves looking for a package or letter for the woman. “No. I'm sorry, I don't see anything for you.”

“Oh, thank you. When is the next delivery from Blight Town?”

“Probably not until late next week. We just got a drop off late last night.”

“Oh, my.” The woman's face seemed worrisome, but waved her hand dismissing her impression of concern. “I will check back then.”

Rachel slid the partition shut and decided to wait a few minutes to leave the room. She wanted to make sure and give Evan Knotts enough time to give up waiting for her to return to the main market area before she exited the postal.

Taking a deep breath, Rachel inched her way closer to the door. Just as she reached for the knob, someone banged on it from the other side startling her. She jumped and yelped.

“Rachel? Is that you?” It was Duncan's voice.

“Yes, I'll be out in a minute.” She released a sigh, grabbed Starr's packages and opened the door. Duncan stood, his back on the wall and his arms crossed over his broad chest. He smiled when she emerged and pushed off the wall.

“You sure you're okay?”

“Yes, I was helping a customer and was just about to come out here when you knocked on the door and it startled me.”

His eyes narrowed while his lips pursed, and she knew Duncan half believed her; but now was not the time nor the place to tell him about Evan. She would do that another day when he wasn't preparing to leave.

“I'm all loaded, but wanted to head over to Bamm's diner for a quick bite before I leave. Would you have time to join me?” He took the packages she was carrying.

They stopped near the ledger counter and she scanned the building for Georgia. “If I can find Georgia, I can have her watch register all the sales.”

With the tag card currency system, only certain merchants were allowed to mark sales and exchanges of currency. Rachel and Georgia were the only two people in her business that could lawfully sign for patrons.

While Rachel waited for Georgia to appear, she and Duncan talked about everyday events. When his conversation turned to the government and his disheartenment with their laws and restrictions, Rachel listened to his words. She agreed with him at every level and joined in the quiet conversation, but hushed her words when someone walked nearby. If someone was caught bad-mouthing the government or the jurisprudence of the Republic, it would mean harsh consequences, sometimes the offender would face death for treason.

“I get so frustrated, Rachel. I mean, the government and the CP's are not reasonable.” Duncan was telling her a story about a fellow messenger who had been found guilty by association when he had delivered a letter to someone connected to the Resistance; a rumored vigilante group that was plotting to overthrow the Republic and Globalist America government.

“And he wasn't even a member of the Resistance.” Duncan scowled and raised his voice. “Just because he is the assigned messenger for that community. How was he to know what he was delivering?”

“It doesn't seem right.” Rachel agreed, then added. “Keep your voice down. You don't want anyone to hear you.” She knew, as well as everyone else, that spies and traitors were rampant. When speaking, you had to be careful what you said and whom you said it to.

“Sorry.” Duncan lowered his head. “I just get so angry about it.”

“I know you do, Duncan. But you have to be careful.” Her eyes scanned the area and she didn't see anyone within eavesdropping distance. When her eyes reached the entrance to the building, she saw Evan. Just when she started to look away, his eyes locked in on hers and he began walking in her direction. “Oh, goodness.”

“What?” Duncan followed her gaze. “What's he doing here again?”

“He's always strolling through here. He says he's looking for Trey, but... I have my doubts.”

“Trey? Why is he looking for your brother?”

“I'm not exactly sure. He says he needs to keep an eye on the troublemakers. I guess he classifies Trey as one.”

Duncan shook his head as Evan approached.

“Rachel, I was looking for you earlier.” He ambled up to the counter. Nodding acknowledgment to Duncan, “Gates.”

“Knotts.” Duncan returned the greeting.

Both men seethed the other's name, so it was hard not to pick up on the animosity they equally shared for one another. Their eyes latched and both men glowered at each other. If left to their own devices, Rachel figured a battle would ensue.

Rachel cleared her throat drawing both men's attention back to her. “What did you need, CP Knotts?” She used his official title, as she knew the law. When speaking to and addressing a civil patrol lawman, lowly subjects had to use their formal designation.

“Excuse me?” He turned his head to look at her.

“You said you were looking for me earlier. For what reason?” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Duncan strain to remain calm. His hands kept clenching up at his side and she could see his chest swelling up as he attempted to maintain his composure. She had seen Duncan react this way every time Evan Knotts was near, but his anxiousness grew when the CP was speaking directly to her. Rachel was unsure if the grounds for his behavior were because he despised the government so much, or if Duncan didn't like Evan around her.

“I need to speak to Trey.” Evan completely forgot about Duncan and his agitation.

“Regarding what?” Rachel picked up a rag and began wiping down the glass counter top, giving the impression that Evan's attendance meant nothing to her. She lost count of the number of times Evan had inquired about Trey in the last few weeks. She half doubted there were a real grounds for his need to speak to Trey' leaving her ever skeptical of Evan's intentions.

“I need to ask him about some unsavory people he has been seen conversing with.”

“Seen? Or rumored?” Duncan spoke up.

“I was directing my questioning to Miss Dixon.” Evan cut him off. “This matter is of no concern to you.” His eyes narrowed as he glared at Duncan. Turning his attention back to Rachel, “Do you know where I can find Trey?”

“No, as a matter of fact, I don't. I haven't seen my brother since last night.” Rachel tossed the rag onto the counter top, lowered her head but kept her eyes glowering at Evan. Her forehead furrowed and her eyes challenged Evan to continue the conversation.

“Well...” Evan glanced between Rachel and Duncan. “If either of you see him, please tell him to come by my agency building.”

“I'll make sure to relay your message.” Rachel hissed between clenched teeth.

Evan nodded in her direction, frowned in Duncan's direction then spun on his heels to leave. But before he took a step, he glanced back at Rachel, “May I remind you, concealing your brother could get you in trouble with obstruction of an ongoing Republic probe.”

Rachel smirked, rolled her eyes then spoke. “I know the laws, CP Knotts. You explain the consequences to me and everyone else all the time.”

Evan nodded and continued his path past the tables and traders. Rachel and Duncan watched his departure. It wasn't until Evan was halfway through the building that Rachel spoke.

“That man infuriates me to no end.” She picked up the rag again and began rubbing a non-existent speck of dust.

“Forget about him.” He placed a hand over Rachel's to stop her fastidious wiping with the rag. “Find Georgia and let's go eat. We can talk more privately.”

Rachel nodded, released the rag and saw Georgia heading in their direction. She signaled to the woman that she was leaving, then circled the counter and joined Duncan as they walked through the crowded trading post.