chapter 6 - Shaking Hands And Kissing Babies
ANNA
Last night was one of the best nights of sleep I have ever had, and when I woke this morning, surrounded by Luke’s warmth, it took everything in me to get out of bed. But I knew it wasn’t an option to stay there cocooned when I smelled the mouthwatering aroma of bacon. When my stomach growled as loud as a bear, we had both jumped out of bed, rushed getting dressed, and with our bags in hand raced downstairs.
John had cooked an amazing spread, and with the six of us plus John, there hadn’t been a single bite left uneaten. Luke had even snatched the last strip of bacon away from Easton and handed it to me. That’s love right there.
After breakfast was over, we all helped John load his wagon with the canned goods he intended to trade in town, and it wasn’t long before we set off. The trip toward a town called Greenville was much quicker by horse. It would have been faster without the wagon, but we made pretty good time. We left John’s ranch around eight a.m. and arrived in Greenville about eight hours later.
I was surprised to see Greenville was a bustling town, with people on horse and foot, traveling one road to the next. John had said after everything collapsed, the people of Greenville banded together with the help of the Diablo gang and rebuilt. There hadn’t been many buildings left standing back then, considering Greenville was like many cities across the country and had mostly been burned to the ground. But from the looks of it, they had been able to salvage some, and what they couldn’t, they built on their own.
We’re on the main thoroughfare now, the street lined by one and two story buildings. To my right is a general store, a fabric store, and a restaurant called Midge’sDiner. On my left is a saloon with wild west swinging doors leading in the front, a bakery with a glass case just inside the window lined with loaves of fresh baked bread, and at the very end is something called a barber shop. I’m not sure what that is, but it has a beautiful glass tube out front, the center spinning with red, white, and blue. There are dozens of other buildings boasting various businesses, including one with the front glass tented and reads Greenville Police Department. Everything the church has told us over the years would indicate total lawlessness outside their walls. Vater Henry even spoke of the people in a sermon not long ago, referring to the people and few towns that were left as archaic. This doesn’t look like archaic. Sure it’s not the high tech world my parents grew up in, more like the time my great grandparents lived in, but from the looks of Greenville, our people have the potential to be back where they were in just a few generations. Well, maybe we shouldn’t go back to the exact way things were, but instead to something better. This town gives me hope.
I’m jerked from my thoughts when I notice Luke is staring at me with a wide smile. What, do I have something on my face?
“What is it?” I ask him, running my hand across my mouth just in case.
He lets out a brief laugh, and then answers my question. “You don’t have anything on your face, if that’s what you’re thinking, Little Minx. I guess I just enjoy watching you see everything for the first time. Kind of puts things in perspective.”
From my right, Easton interrupts him, and I turn to give him my attention. “It really does. Look at ‘em, they all have that same look on their face.” He nods toward Cody and Chase, and I see they too look enthralled with this place. Their eyes are large, tracking from one building to the next, and their mouths are slightly agape. “Kind of makes me feel like we’ve taken what we have out here for granted.”
Tommy on his other side nods and grunts in agreement, as Chase and Cody realize they have an audience. They both close their mouths, turning to follow John once again, and only a few minutes later we come to a large open area filled with rows of tables covered by tents of various sizes and colors. Seeing the row closest to me, the tables are filled with a multitude of wares; canned goods, fresh baked pies and bread, quilts and clothes, and the last one in the row is lined with handcrafted bows and arrows, as well as several leather quivers.
Gimme. Gimme.
We turn the corner at the last row, and stop in front of an empty set of tables, shaded by an off white tent. I assume this is where John intends to set up the items he brought to trade, and I’m proven right when he dismounts from his horse and begins unloading the items from the back of his wagon.
None of us seem to think twice as we begin to help him unload, and then I start setting the canned goods out on the tables. So far I’ve displayed jars of honey, canned tomatoes, green beans, and pickles, as well as quite a few jars of what looks like peach cobbler filling.
John sees me eyeing a jar of pickles, and walks over taking it from me before opening the lid and offering me one. I’d like to tell you I declined or hesitated, but instead I dove in face first. And I’d also like to tell you I stopped at just one, but that would be
