Sarah shook her head. “No really, you’ve done enough.” But, reluctantly, she stepped into the house.
“The one store we went to didn’t have much, but we took everything they had. Ironically, it was mostly dog food which will be helpful for all the dogs we have here—but a bit of people food, too. Another group we ran into out there brought our part back for us. We already split it up evenly for everyone here. Let me get yours.”
Tucker left her in the foyer to run out to his garage.
Katie stood up. “Hi, Sarah. Is the baby better?” she asked as she made her way over, wanting to take a peek at Sammi.
Sarah quickly turned Sammi around to show Katie, and then flipped her back to her shoulder. She nodded. “She’s… yeah. She’s better. I was just thanking Tucker. And, if you see Jake, can you tell him and his brother I appreciate them trying to find the formula?”
“I will, but it’s his brother-in-law, not his brother,” Katie answered. “I’m sorry the stuff they brought back was so out of date. It’s a shame she can’t drink it. I used to feed my kids out of date formula and baby food all the time. Never had a problem.”
“I don’t think it would’ve been a problem, except it was years out of date.” Sarah looked to be sure Tucker was out of the house before asking, “Katie, I’m glad I got a chance to talk to you. Mickey told me what happened at the store. Is Tucker alright?”
Katie was puzzled. “Yeah, he’s fine. Why?”
“Because of the—” Sarah stopped. It was possible Katie didn’t know that Tucker was nearly shot at point blank, and that they’d seen death at every turn on their outing, even burying a family of four. “Because I know he felt bad about the formula not working for us,” she lied. “I just want to say, I know he did everything he could for her.”
She lifted Sammi up and sadly kissed her head.
Katie was even more puzzled. “But you said she’s better, right? She’s taking the rice water?”
“Oh, sure. She is. I’m just saying no one could have done more than Tucker did. He shouldn’t feel bad—about the formula… being out of date, I mean.”
Katie studied Sarah. While she did seem a bit better in spirits, she still looked deathly tired, and she sounded loopy. The last week had really taken it out of the poor woman. Katie couldn’t remember seeing her at supper, and the poor woman was thin as a rail. She was almost wobbly on her feet, too. She waved her toward the den. “Want to sit down?”
“No, I’ve got to get back and put Sammi down. Has Jake left yet?” She looked around Katie to the den and dining area. “I really wanted to thank him, too.”
“Yeah, they’ve already left. They hung around a bit and waited for their part of the haul from the grocery store and then they went by Jake’s house. I think he had some supplies that Gabby wanted him to get. They’ve gone home to Grayson’s place now. But I’ll tell him if I see him.” She smiled at Sarah. “Grayson had a heck of a toothache. Neva gave him something for it, and he was ready to get home and try it.”
“Neva knows a lot, it seems. I’ve heard the kids call her a witch,” Sarah said. “Wait. Is she a witch?”
Katie laughed. “No. Neva learned about natural remedies and plants and all kinds of stuff from her grandmother, back in the day. She’s the one that told us about those hay boxes we’re using to cook with now. I owe her… big time. Saved me hours of sweating over that fire, not to mention saving all of us firewood we can use in the winter… I mean, if the power stays out. So, nope. Not a witch,” she finished and laughed again.
Nervously, Sarah juggled her baby to her other shoulder, looking away. “I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry. My mouth sometimes…” She waved her hand in the air. “Anyway…” she faded off.
Tucker hurried in and opened the bag he was carrying for Sarah to look inside. “Sorry, it’s not much, but it’s something.” The contents of the bag barely covered the bottom. It was mostly snack items: beef jerky, peanuts, packs of cookies and chips. A can of soup was the only item that resembled real food.
He handed it to her and smiled.
Sarah hesitated, and then asked, “Tucker, what are we all going to do for food if the power doesn’t come back on?”
Tucker sighed. “I’m not sure, but we’ll do the best we can. There’s a few small gardens already planted here. We’ll work those. People are saving their seeds from any fruits and vegetables they still had. It’s possible we could try to plant them and see if they’ll produce. Won’t hurt to try. Some people have more than others, or different things than others, and we’ll barter and trade. Maybe we’ll try to go out of the neighborhood to look for food again, but not right now. It’s not safe out there, Sarah.”
He hadn’t shared the story of the lives lost on their run to town run yet. He wasn’t keeping it from anyone, but he just hadn’t wanted to talk about it. He just wanted to be safe at home, with his family safe beside him, and take a few days to absorb it. Besides, he felt sure Mickey and Frank would be talking about it soon enough—although their version might be slightly different from the truth. But he knew Sarah didn’t know. She barely came out of her house.
Katie squeezed his arm. “What about hunting? You mentioned Xander was going to take you and a few others out to teach them to hunt, right? We can get meat like that.”
Tucker nodded to both her and Sarah. “Yeah. Of course. We’ll be going out soon. Until then, if you run out of food, you just come here. We’ll do the evening meal as long as we can with the group, and after that Katie and I will share with you, won’t we Katie?” He looked to Katie for support.
Katie didn’t meet his eyes; or Sarah’s. “Ummm… sure. I’ll see you later, Sarah, I’ve got to get the kids to lay down. These work days are brutal with no sleep. Good night,” she said and hurried away.
Sarah backed up. “Well, good-night y’all. Thank you again.”
“You want me to walk you home?” Tucker asked, looking out across the dark street.
Sarah shook her head. “No, I’m used to being alone.” She turned and walked away, cooing to her daughter as she went.
Tucker watched her leave, wondering if she’d meant to say I instead of we. “Sarah,” he yelled. “Do you need more water? I can bring you some.”
Sarah answered without turning around. “No. I’m good.”
How could she be good? She was probably needing more water than most people with a sick baby. Or maybe she’s just using the wet wipes to clean the baby up, he reminded himself. As Tucker watched her unsteadily walk away, keeping an eye on her until she reached her door, she nearly dropped the bag of food on her driveway.
She scooped it up, and instead of carrying it in, she shoved it in her mailbox, seemingly overwhelmed with her burden. He wished she’d have let him walk her home. He could’ve carried the bag.
“Sarah!” he yelled again, feeling as though he’d left something unsaid.
She turned around, cocking her hip and adjusting Sammi on her shoulder. “What?”
“We’ll get through this. All of us,” he assured her.
She gave him a weak smile. “You can’t save the world, Tucker.”
Goosebumps rose on Tucker’s arms. Those were the last words the old woman in the wheelchair had ever spoken—or something very close to that. Grayson had shared that with him after they’d buried the woman with her father and children under her apple tree.
In the next months to come, he’d remember those words, spoken twice in one day, by two different women, often.
45