Granny B was a feisty sixty-four-year-old hard-working Oregon rancher’s wife who been to the school of hard knocks and kicked its ass. She’s been a pretty woman in her youth. Still, the combination of ranch life and sixty years of suffering the Oregon sun and wind affected her once creamy smooth complexion. Yes, rode hard and put up wet aptly described her to a T. Her many wrinkles were a road map from her tours in the Middle East to blizzards in the mountains of Oregon punching cattle and rough ranch life. She was rough as a corn cob but gentle as a lamb when needed. Her tongue could praise good work or flay the hide off a wayward ranch hand.
Bessie Clark loved the twins with all her heart and was proud of the people they’d become. She’d become their mother when her son and daughter-in-law had died when the twins were just kids. Bessie became Granny B because Jackie had called her ‘Bethee’ and couldn’t say, Bessie. Granny B was now sixty-four, gray-haired, and five foot four inches tall. She had grown up on the ranch and had been raised by her dad and older brothers. Jackie wasn’t the only tomboy the farm had produced in its one hundred and forty years of existence.
Granny B had been a nurse in the Iraq war when the enemy had overrun their base. She’d picked up an M4 rifle and had promptly shot four of the intruders saving several lives while being shot herself. She’d received the Purple Heart and a Distinguished Service Medal even though her Division Commander had turned her in for the Medal of Honor. Granny B had married a fellow soldier, returned to Oregon to take over the ranch from her ailing father, and never left. Her husband and Granny B had become doomsday preppers and raised the twins to be self-sufficient and always prepared. They’d been preparing for when TSHTF all their lives. Now, they would be tested.
Jackie looked at her twin brother. “I didn’t know we had a badass for a granny.”
Tom thought for a few seconds. “I guess any grandma who can still rope cattle and brand calves has to be some kind of badass.”
Jackie touched Tom’s shoulder. “We’re both fairly good at the outdoors stuff like camping, fishing, and hunting, but we could be looking at a survival situation. Neither of us was in the military and don’t have combat experience.”
“But little sister, Grampa and Granny B taught us a lot about survival and prepping. We might have to use that stuff we thought was a waste of our time when we were teenagers.”
Jackie frowned since she could always read her brother’s mind. “I sense you think this will get worse, quick.”
“Sis, you read the same Post-Apocalyptic books and watched the old Jericho reruns on cable. All I can think of is we have about three days before the shit hits the fan and ninety more days to survive until everyone else starves or kills each other off.”
“Tom, we didn’t have much of a childhood or social life later as teens. Grampa was so paranoid about people knowing where we lived. Crap, neither one of us has much in the way of social skills. Your wife hated being isolated on the ranch. We never went to the movies or anything. Hell, I didn’t date until I went away to college.”
Tom nodded and then smiled. “I almost laughed at Granny when she advised me to get back on the horse after Gwen died. Her birds and bees talk didn’t prepare me for courting Gwen or our marriage. I thought working on the ranch was exciting enough. I think Gwen was tired of ranch living and would have left me if she hadn’t died.”
Jackie snickered. “Tell me about it. I met a boy I liked the first week at college, and he put his hand on my butt when he tried to kiss me. I gave him a karate chop and threw him to the floor. All the boys were afraid of me for months. Then I found a boyfriend and didn’t know what to do with him. I felt out of place and came home the next semester.”
“Tom, it’s been two years. You have to trust people and find love, or you’ll become more distrusting and cynical. You’re kinda mean at times to me and Granny B.”
Tom ignored the comments and placed an arm around his sister. He chuckled. “Is there hope for us? I loved having Gwen around but got sick of her whining all the time about going to town.”
Jackie knew about Gwen cheating on her brother, but Gwen had died before Jackie could work up the courage to tell him. “I know what you liked about having Gwen around. Remember, my bedroom shared a wall with your bedroom. I had to sleep out on the porch many a night.”
Red or crimson didn’t do justice to describe Tom’s cherry red face. “I uh … why didn’t you say something?”
“I guess I could have said, - Brother, dear, please make a bit less noise while humping your wife, or maybe – Dear sister-in-law, please stop moaning so loud. That would have gone over like a turd in a punch bowl.”
Tom was too embarrassed to answer.
“Well, look here. I found a way to shut you up.”
Samantha and Betty had started a conversation but stopped when they saw Tom and Jackie watching them. Betty smiled. “Your grandma and Bill appear to have hit it off. What can we do while we’re waiting on those two to catch up on war stories?”
