Options Are Good (4 page)

“I know,” Bandy said. “I have to work in the morning, too. But I’d have been working a double tonight anyway, so it isn’t that much later for me than it would have been. And so much more fun.”

Bandy put on his hat, stood up, and took Ana-Bella’s hand. They walked hand in hand to the check stand and Bandy signed the bill and retrieved his card. They had not been interrupted a single time during their time there. Bandy asked the clerk to call for a cab and Ana-Bella took his hand again as they went outside.

The night had cooled down and before Ana-Bella could say anything, Bandy had his blazer around her shoulders. “You didn’t have to do that,” she told him. But she stood close and added, “But I’m glad you did. It is cool out now.”

Ana-Bella kept the blazer on after giving the driver the address to the motel where she was staying the night. She hadn’t taken Bandy’s hand in hers again, so Bandy didn’t either. But he did get out and walk her to the door of the motel room and take the blazer when she slipped it off her shoulders.

“I had a wonderful time, tonight, Bandy,” Ana-Bella said quietly. “I am so glad I lost that bet. I just hope I haven’t disappointed you. This is all I have to offer.”

“It is more than enough,” Bandy said. “I was neither asking nor expecting any more. And you’re sure you’ll be okay on the trip tomorrow?”

“Oh, yes. But how about you? Can you drive home?”

“I could,” Bandy said, but quickly added. “But I’m not going to. I’ll have one of the guys pick me up in the morning so I can get the truck. This has been too good of a night to risk anything alcohol related.”

“Good. I knew you were a good guy. I’m glad you’re a prepper, too. It is what got us together for the evening. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Ana-Bella Sheridan,” Bandy replied. She slipped through the door and was gone. Bandy, an even worse whistler than he was dancer, was whistling anyway when he got back into the taxi.

“Where to, Mac? Home to the wife?”

That cabbie didn’t get a tip, either.

CHAPTER TWO

Bandy thought about Ana-Bella often the next month, mostly when he was working on the greenhouse. He even thought about asking Betty for the phone number that Ana-Bella had given when she arranged for the load.

But that was a little presumptuous he decided. He sighed one Sunday evening, muttering to himself, “It was just a chance encounter. Nothing more,” and decided to put Ana-Bella out of his mind.

It wasn’t that easy to do, but Bandy threw himself into getting the greenhouse finished before winter and took all the overtime he could get to help finance it.

So it was coming up on Thanksgiving when Bandy put the finishing touches on the greenhouse and support building and fired up the systems. He wouldn’t get any worms, fish, or rabbits yet, but had everything ready for them. He would use the Verti-gro system as a basic hydroponics system until he had more experience with the systems.

The Monday before Thanksgiving he was surprised no end when Ana-Bella’s truck showed up at the warehouse just before shift end. She had a load on and Bandy wondered why she was stopping.

When she climbed down out of the cab she waved and walked over to join Bandy at the access door. “Don’t think I can get much more on your truck,” Bandy said with a smile.

Ana-Bella was also smiling. “Nope. Think not. And it isn’t why I stopped. I need some help.”

She hand held out her hand, but more held Bandy’s when he took it to shake it. “Are you all right?” The immediate concern in Bandy was obvious to Ana-Bella and the doubts she’d had about stopping to talk to him began to fade.

“Oh, I’m fine. There’s just a… situation… One I need to talk to someone with special skills and get some advice. You wouldn’t happen to actually be getting off on time again today, would you?”

“Actually, yes. The full swing crew is already here. I will be leaving right on time.”

“Would you mind getting a cup of tea somewhere with me so I can pick your brains for a little while?”

“I wouldn’t mind at all. There is a place not far from here where we order in lunch once in a while. No good truck parking, but you can leave the rig here and we can go in my truck.”

“That would be so great, Bandy! Thank you.” She squeezed his hand and let it slip from hers. “Let me park out of the way and grab something from the sleeper.”

The rest of the warehouse crew were watching in awe as Ana-Bella joined Bandy in the employee parking lot and got into his truck.

“Quite the truck,” Ana-Bella said, having looked it over as they approached.

“It’s no Rufus, but it does most of what I want,” Bandy replied.

“Rufus?” Ana-Bella asked.

Bandy looked over at her and smiled. “Name of a very well equipped post-apocalyptic world use vehicle I read about in a prep story.”

“Prep story?”

Bandy nodded and turned into the diner parking lot. “Yeah. There are some authors that write about preparedness and survival possibilities for entertainment and some educational purposes, and post them on the web.”

“I see. I guess we could have walked down here,” Ana-Bella said, getting out of the truck after the short ride. “But that information makes me more sure than ever I’ve come to the right person for advice.”

“Not sure how, but whatever I can do to help, I sure will.” Bandy held the door open for Ana-Bella and then led the way to a booth near the rear of the restaurant. The waitress was right there and they got their order for tea, and, as it turned out, pieces of coconut cream pie before Ana-Bella began to tell Bandy of her problem.

“You know that load I picked up for my dad’s friend, Longhammer?”

“I remember it fondly, actually,” Bandy said.

“Yeah. Actually, I do, too,” Ana-Bella replied with a smile. “But it is at the heart of the matter. Longhammer is in a hurry now to get something built. He has good contacts in the government and thinks that things are going to get really terrible in the future. Possibly even war with China. Nuclear war.”

“I have the same feeling,” Bandy said softly. “I hope that doesn’t make things worse.”

“Just the opposite. Means you know what is driving him. The problem is, he became acquainted with some… how should I put it… less than savory characters. They don’t call themselves a militia, but they are in trouble with the Sheriff back home all the time over militia activities.

“Now, I did some research on prepping and survival after meeting you, and think you are, as you said, a prepper, as opposed to what some people, like this bunch, are coming off as. A bunch of lowlifes looking to take advantage where they can, now, and in the future, if it turns bad.

“They have Longhammer buying up guns and ammunition now and are trying to turn him into one of them, with the idea of taking over the area in the event of a major disaster, based out of the shelter he’s getting ready to build. Everything I’ve found out tells me that they aren’t at all representative of what prepping, or really even survivalism, is all about.

“They are simply a dangerous gang that has big plans for the future. And they won’t be good plans for my family and friends at home. I need someone I can trust… You… to come up and talk to my Father and help him talk Longhammer into ditching these guys before things go any further than they already have. Could you… Would you do that? This Thanksgiving? I’ll pay all expenses…”

“Not necessary, Ana-Bella. I’d be glad to help. And don’t worry about the expenses. I can travel inexpensively when I want to.”

“You’d have a place to stay at home,” Ana-Bella said. “You can stay with my parents. I’m sure they won’t mind. You wouldn’t have to get a motel or anything. And Mother is a great cook.

“They are both worried about Longhammer and what could happen in the future if that gang takes control, or even try to, if things get bad.”

“I can stay in a…”

“No. The house. I insist. I don’t want this to cost you. You’d be doing me a big favor.”

“Well… Let’s wait and let your father decide whether I can stay or not. When do you need me up there? And for how long? We’re taking the full holiday and weekend off, so that isn’t a problem at all. And if need be, I can talk my boss into letting me have a couple of days at either end, too. Things slow down a bit this time of year.”

“You’d do that?” Ana-Bella’s eyes were wide.

And very blue, Bandy decided, looking deep into them for the fraction of a second before she blinked and he tore his eyes from her face out of fear of doing something stupid, silly, or both. Like trying to kiss her.

“Of course I would, Ana-Bella. Situations like this need to be nipped in the bud. I’m a proponent of legal state militias and home defense groups. I’m not in favor of a gang of thugs trying to run things to their advantage at the expense of other people.”

“Well, I have to drop this load tomorrow,” Ana-Bella said. “And then I’m headed home for until after Thanksgiving. Whenever you could show up during that time would be great. Dad has already invited Longhammer and June and their kids for Thanksgiving dinner this year.”

“Okay. I’ll be there before then.”

“Oh, thank you, Bandy! I knew I could count on you. But I need to get going if I’m going to make my delivery time tomorrow.”

“Sure thing,” Bandy said. He took care of the check while Ana-Bella went to the bathroom.

There wasn’t much talk on the three minute ride back to the warehouse. Another touch of hands, lingering, and Ana-Bella was on the way to deliver her load, and Bandy went in to talk to Alan.

“Aw, man! You and that woman! She’s corrupting you. I need you here at work these next two days.”

It struck Bandy the wrong way and Alan knew it immediately.

“Careful what you say of the lady,” Bandy said in a tone of voice, and with a look on his face that Alan had never heard or seen.

“I didn’t mean that like it sounded, Bandy,” Alan quickly said, knowing instinctively that Bandy would just flat out quit on him if he implied anything bad about Ana-Bella. “Just…”

“Best you don’t say anything else,” Bandy said. “Do I get the time or not? Next two days and next Monday and Tuesday, just to make sure I have enough time to do what I need to do.”

There was no way Alan would push it. “Of course you can have the time off, Bandy. And I’m sorry I upset you. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Good enough. Then I’ll see you the Wednesday after Thanksgiving.”

Bandy was still a bit stiff legged when he went back out to his truck, and Alan was feeling very lucky he hadn’t lost an employee and had his clock cleaned to boot, though he really couldn’t picture Bandy getting physical. Probably.

Bandy thought long and hard on what he would take with him, and how he would approach the situation when he got there. But by seven in the morning the next morning, Bandy was on the road, headed for near Oklahoma City, still mulling over Ana-Bella’s trust in him.

He pushed pretty hard, though he took breaks regularly, to eat and go to the bathroom, and top off the multiple fuel tanks installed in the truck.

Bandy had planned, initially, on camping out, but the weather was taking a turn for the worse, and he decided that a couple of nights in motels wouldn’t cost him too much. It was just a matter of the best option for the situation. He could certainly handle the weather camping out, but he could make better time stopping at motels rather than setting up and then breaking down camp at a campground.

It was just after noon when Bandy checked the addresses Ana-Bella had given him at the diner. He drove past the large Farm Supply business and Implement dealership that Angus Longhammer owned. A slight whistle made it past his lips. It was an impressive place.

And then, when he got to Ana-Bella’s parent’s place, he whistled again. She’d said her family raised horses and cattle, but hadn’t mentioned the extent of the place.

There were half a dozen beautiful barns, as well kept up as the large home, and the other three smaller homes on the property. Lush green pastures and paddocks contrasted with the deep brown of the groomed dirt in the corrals and horse training areas. The various driveways, that weren’t concrete, were nicely tended gravel.

Bandy pulled up to the main gate and saw the call box on one gate post. He got out and rang the house.

“Hello. Yes. My name is Bandy Hawkins and…” That was all he got out before a booming voice, even over the speaker, cut him off.

“So you’re the one. Come on up. I’ll meet you out in front of the house. Mind the dogs.”

Bandy saw the gate begin to slide sideways and got back into the truck to drive up the long winding driveway to the buildings on the slight rise of the property.

He knew it was a test when the man standing on the walkway up to the house from the parking area stood where he was and let Bandy get out of the truck to be treated by three grown Airedales and four pups of various ages.

Bandy took his time, let the dogs thoroughly check him out, and then stood up straight to walk over to greet Ana-Bella’s father, the pups running around him, still a bit excited. But the adults took off and the pups quickly followed at a word from Sheridan.

“Mr. Sheridan?” Bandy asked.

“Yes. Bob Sheridan.” Sheridan didn’t make the handshake a test, but it was firm. “And you are Bandy Hawkins. Not quite what I expected, from my daughter’s descriptions.”

Bandy didn’t quite know what to make of it, so he didn’t mention it. “I just wanted to check in and let you know I was here.” Bandy grabbed his hat, and Bob grabbed his beautiful gray felt cowboy hat as a gust of cold wind stirred up some dust.

“I’ll head in and find a motel. Ana-Bella has my cell phone number, so she can call me when she gets in and…”