The corporal was silent for an uncomfortably long half a minute. “You want me to try to dig into military supplies and provide you with gunpowder,” he finally said.
Lewis looked a bit surprised at his reticence. “Nothing illegal or unethical, of course. I want to go through proper channels. I’m just wondering if you could get me in touch with a quartermaster, or maybe if you’re aware of any civilian group that has some available. I might be able to squeak together a finder’s fee, or I could promise you a share of the reloaded ammo.”
Bryant’s expression cleared, and Trev blinked when he realized the guy had been afraid his cousin was suggesting something illegal. Jeez, had he thought Lewis wanted him to steal the stuff from the military? No wonder he’d been fidgeting like he was being backed into a corner.
“I can’t make any promises but I’ll look around,” the corporal said. “I like the idea.”
Lewis’s grin returned. “Yeah, it’s a good way to spend the winter months.”
The soldier was still holding the shell casing. He absently rolled it between thumb and forefinger. “Are you planning on gathering up more of these?”
“I was, actually. Now’s the time to do it, and I want to have enough that I never have to run around scrambling to find more. Especially when I can get them for free right now with just a little effort.”
Bryant nodded. “With our troops running low on ammo I can pretty much guarantee the quartermasters are thinking of reloading themselves. I’ll try to get you the smokeless powder, but in the meantime they might be interested in buying or trading for brass. Assuming they don’t put us to work scouring the fronts for them.” He shrugged. “If not then trading some of what you scrounge up might be your ticket to getting powder out of them. I’ll look into it.”
“Thanks. That means a lot.” Lewis offered his hand, and the corporal gripped it firmly, then moved on to shake Trev’s hand as well.
Trev appreciated being included. “Well now that we’re done talking about reloading, should we finish up with the unloading?”
Chapter Three
Surplus
“I know, I know,” Matt told Meredith Banks, doing his best to stay patient, “and you’re not the first to ask. Believe me, we all want to get our share and take it home so we can start sorting through it and make plans.”
“So why aren’t we?” the older woman demanded, completely ignoring the bustle of activity going on around her. The last of the supplies had been unloaded off the trucks and the soldiers were getting ready to head out, looking eager to be done with the job. “Why are you dragging your feet on letting us have what’s ours?”
Aside from the fact that we just finished getting it? Matt thought irritably. He couldn’t blame her, or the others who’d come with the same question for that matter, for being possessive about food they desperately needed. Still, it irked him a bit that the ones coming around hectoring him about it were usually also the ones who’d stood on the sidelines watching rather than helping out however they could.
Thankfully Catherine came to his rescue, passing by with a clipboard she was using to jot down a list of what they’d received so far. At least as best she could manage; it was a daunting task considering the sheer volume of it.
“We still need to decide just how to evenly divide the supplies, which might take a little time,” she told Mrs. Banks mildly. “You do want to get your fair share, don’t you?”
The older woman immediately changed tunes. “Of course! I’m glad at least someone running this town has some sense.” She went off at least partially mollified.
The former Mayor turned to Matt with a smile. “All part of the job,” she said. “Speaking of which, it looks as if Corporal Bryant is nearly ready to head out, if there’s anything you want to say to him.”
Matt grimaced, reminded of the request Trev had passed on to him. Another part of the job. “How’s the tallying coming?”
It was Catherine’s turn to frown. “Nowhere near done. I’ll need to grab some people to help, and probably some more to make sure the “helpers” don’t wander off with anything. And we’ll probably want to stick around to make sure they don’t, either.” She gave him a significant look. “And the fact that there’s such a huge variety of food, not only varying in types but in quality, is going to make fairly distributing it a nightmare. No matter how hard we try someone’s going to feel slighted. And that’s only going to get worse when they hear about the town’s share.”
“Town’s share?” Matt repeated, surprised.
“The surplus for over eighty extra people,” the older woman clarified. She was interrupted by the sudden rumble of truck engines starting up, and she waved him towards where Bryant was still talking with Lewis, Trev, and Lucas, while Deb, Jane, and Lewis’s sister Mary all waited at the periphery listening in. “Go be Mayor, but then the town leaders need to have a serious talk about what we’re doing with those extra supplies.”
Even new to being Mayor as he was, Matt could tell that handling the surplus was going to be a problem no matter what decision he made concerning it. Just one more part of the job.
With a sigh he made his way over to Bryant. “On behalf of Aspen Hill wanted to thank you again, Corporal,” he said, offering his hand.
“Just following orders, although welcome ones,” the soldier replied, returning a crushing grip. He hesitated. “So, uh, about the veterans…”
“It’s something the town will have to discuss,” Matt replied, shaking his head, “although I think it would be a good thing.”
“Good. Then maybe I’ll come back around in a week or so to get your answer.”
Matt opened his mouth to ask why the man didn’t just use a radio, then he caught Bryant glancing towards the cluster of women standing nearby. Specifically Mary. The corporal’s face reddened slightly as if he realized he’d been caught, and he hastily turned back to his truck. For her part Mary seemed to have noticed the attention, humming uncertainly to herself.
As he watched Bryant leave he bit back a grin. Lewis’s sister was a lovely young woman, the sort of classical blond beauty who tended to catch the eye. Although she was so shy she always seemed more flustered than pleased by the attention. She didn’t talk much, but she always seemed to be quietly humming some song or another.
Matt had once overheard Trev making a passing remark to Lewis about Mary’s humming, which sparked the insight that she picked songs to hum that mimicked her feelings or somehow commented on a situation. That had led to some funny instances where her borderline rebellious or teasing choice of music nearly made Matt laugh out loud, which would’ve revealed he was on to her secret.
Of course, it also led to a bit of awkwardness when he’d caught her humming love songs around him. He’d avoided the awkwardness by avoiding her, which was a shame because she was one of the sweetest people he knew.
Other than Sam, of course. But then again his wife was hard to top.
As if his thoughts had been a summons Sam appeared to lean against his arm, slipping her small hand in his. Even nearly seven months pregnant with their child his wife was still very petite, which was all the more noticeable given Matt’s own height. She was more than a classical beauty too, with raven hair and just a hint of olive in her skin from her Mediterranean heritage.
“Was Corporal Bryant making eyes at Mary?” she asked, dark eyes dancing.
He shrugged and grinned at her, extricating his hand to pull her close to his side. “Where have you been all this time?”
“Helping Terry sort through the few medical supplies the convoy brought.” Sam grimaced. “There’s not much there. Clean bandages, sewing thread and needles repurposed for suturing, and a few bottles of antiseptic. No painkillers or antibiotics at all, or even so much as a bottle of cough syrup.”