The Rule of Three (10 page)

“It’s settled, then,” the farmer said. “Now let’s go take a look at that mower. It’s been giving me fits.”

11

“Can we talk?” Herb asked me later, after the riders were back and the others were in the barn, helping them put the horses away.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“I want you to be careful,” Herb said.

“Don’t worry.”

“You know I wouldn’t leave you here if I didn’t feel it was safe.”

“I just hope my mother thinks the same thing.”

“She’ll understand. And don’t worry about Rachel and Danny. You know I’ll watch over them tonight.”

“Okay.”

“I spoke to Mr. Peterson to let him know he can count on you. I also told him I was giving you this.” Herb pulled out his little snub-nosed pistol.

I drew away slightly.

“The safety is on. You know how to use it, right?”

“Yeah, but I can’t take your gun.”

“If you don’t take it, I don’t think I can leave you here. Just ask Mr. Peterson where you can keep it today. And make sure you carry it tonight.”

I took it from him. It felt frightening and reassuring all at once.

“But what about you? Don’t you think you might need it?”

“I have a second weapon with me,” he said. “I always have a backup just in case.”

Of course he did, I thought, as we swapped the holster from his belt to mine. The holster was compact, and the gun was concealed under my jacket. It felt so heavy as we walked back to join everybody else that I was certain everyone would notice it, but nobody seemed to. I handed my car keys to Brett.

“I still think it would be better for me to stay,” Brett said.

“You have to go out on patrol tonight, Officer,” Herb said.

“That’s true. Duty calls,” he said, acting like a big cheese.

I gave Rachel a hug, while Brett thanked Mr. and Mrs. Peterson for a great visit. I got the feeling he was laying it on pretty thick, and I definitely didn’t like the way Lori was looking at him.

They got into the car with Brett behind the wheel. It just seemed wrong to have him driving—as wrong as it was for him to even be looking at Lori. Rachel waved out the window as they started away. We watched until they made the road, turned, and were gone.

“So what now?” Todd asked.

“Now we get down to work,” Mr. Peterson said.

*   *   *

Despite thick work gloves, the barbed wire still got through, puncturing or scratching my skin. There was no good way to handle the stuff.

Todd and Mr. Peterson were ahead, driving posts into the soil with a big sledgehammer. They alternated who held the stake and who wielded the hammer. I could feel the pounding running through the ground and up my legs. They were moving pretty fast, driving the posts just deep enough to support the wire but not deep enough to stay upright very long. There had to be a sacrifice made here—strength and depth versus speed and distance. With any luck, by dark the whole north and west sides of the barn and house would be fenced, leaving only two approaches to be guarded.

I hammered the third staple into the post, trapping a strand of the wire in place. I removed a glove and wiped the sweat off my forehead. The sun was almost directly overhead and blazingly hot.

“Looks like you’re falling behind.” Lori was standing there holding a tray with a pitcher of lemonade and three glasses. That looked really good. She looked even better.

“There are two of them and only one of me,” I said.

“Maybe you don’t have time for a glass of lemonade.”

I put down my hammer. “I think I better find some time.”

She poured and handed me a glass. “This is so nice of you and Todd to help.”

“I’m the nice guy. Todd’s only here because of the pie.”

“Seriously. I hope with you here my father will be able to get some sleep tonight. He’s hardly slept since this all started,” she said.

“I guess none of you has gotten much sleep.”

“Not much. I must look hideous.”

I looked her up and down. “I wouldn’t say hideous.”

She smiled.

“Now, horrible or haggard, those words would fit.”

She reached out and gave me a playful smack on the shoulder.

“Careful now, don’t go abusing the hired help.”

She laughed and then suddenly stopped. “You know, that’s the first time I’ve laughed in a couple of days. This has been hard, really hard.” She suddenly looked like she was going to lose it.

“Just remember that you all can sleep well tonight and we’ll take care of things.”

“That’s tonight, but what about tomorrow night and the night after that?” Lori asked.

“Tomorrow things might be fixed and this will be over.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” I asked.

I think we both knew it was a lame but reassuring lie.

“Could you stay another night?” she asked.

“Maybe.” But probably not. My mother wasn’t going to be happy about this. Doing it without asking was the only way I was here tonight.

“If you can’t come back, maybe somebody else can. Your friend is very nice,” she said.

“Todd is actually a pretty good guy.”

“I meant Brett.”

“Brett isn’t that nice,” I blurted out.

She looked surprised by my reaction. I was more than a little surprised myself, considering I barely knew the guy.

“I mean, he’s not my friend. I guess he’s a nice guy, but sometimes it’s hard to tell. Some people confuse fake manners and a fancy car for nice.”

“Fancy car?” she asked. “Just who are we talking about?”

In a blink of an eye I’d moved from Brett to Chad.

“I could be talking about a lot of people,” I said, trying to back away.

“You haven’t ever liked Chad very much, have you?”

I’d said too much already, but since I’d started I went on. “I guess I just don’t like his
type
,” I said.

“And you think that Brett and Chad are the same type?”

“Not exactly. Brett is a grown-up who’s old enough to be your, well, much
older
brother.”

“And Jeremy?” He was the guy she had dated before Chad. “You didn’t like him either, did you?”

“I figure you yourself didn’t like him much, because you broke up with him.”

“So you think I’ve been interested in the wrong type of guy?”

“That’s not for me to say.”

“Have you ever thought that I’m dating the
wrong
guys because the
right
ones haven’t ever asked me out?”

“I’ve sort of, you know, thought about that.”

“Maybe it’s time to stop
thinking
and start
doing
,” she said.

Was she asking me to ask her out? That would be incredible, unbelievable and—

“Hey!”

We both turned around. It was her father.

“Are you planning on sharing any of that lemonade?” he yelled out.

“Oh, sorry, Dad!”

Lori took the empty glass from me. “All right, Mr. Nice Guy. I guess we’ll have to finish this conversation later.”

12

I walked up the driveway, slowing down as I approached the trip wire. I couldn’t see it, but I knew which trees supported it. I stopped just short, leaned over, and reached out until I brushed my hand against it, making sure I didn’t disturb it and trigger the bells. I just wanted the reassurance it was there.

I turned to the right, retracing the steps I’d taken two dozen times before, walking sentry on the south side of the farm. Todd was doing the same on the east side. The other two sides were bounded by the fence. We hoped that the fencing would either stop any intruders or slow them down enough so that we’d hear them trying to get through.

The farmhouse was well set back from the road and hidden from view by stands of trees on both sides of the lane. The lane itself was rutted gravel and dirt, so narrow that at places the trees leaned over and met in the middle so that it seemed more a tunnel than a driveway. While most of the farmland was cleared fields, there were still some parts that had been left wild and rough—and could easily hide somebody coming toward the farmhouse.

Lori and her parents were inside sleeping. At least I hoped they were sleeping. If I were them, I didn’t know how well I’d sleep knowing that Todd and I were the ones offering the protection. We both were carrying baseball bats, and of course I had the pistol Herb had given me, but nobody except Mr. Peterson knew that. Todd had tried to convince them to let us have guns, but Mr. Peterson hadn’t given in to the idea. Maybe it would have made Todd more confident, but it would have made me less. A gun in his hands would have been a danger to everybody, including me and him. At least I’d fired a gun before. My mother had insisted that, since there were firearms in our house, I had to have some training as well as some time on the firing range.

If there was any sign of trouble, we were supposed to either run to get Mr. Peterson or make enough noise to wake him up and he would come out with his shotgun to help us confront the problem.

I was doing my best to keep my footfalls silent. That way nobody could hear me coming and I could hear somebody else’s steps coming toward me. So far, all I’d heard were Todd’s. He sounded like a moose breaking through the trees, but it was reassuring to know he was there. I stepped over some roots and came out from under the trees. It was surprisingly bright. I caught sight of Todd as he rounded the corner of the barn.

“So can you remind me again why I’m doing this?” he asked as we got closer.

“To help Lori’s family.”

“No, no, that’s why
you’re
doing it. Why am I here?”

“Because you’re my friend.”

“I must be a damn amazingly
great
friend to spend the entire night walking around in the dark carrying a baseball bat because
you
want to impress some girl.”

“You are a damn amazingly great friend.”

“I’m glad we have this figured out. She better be worth all of this.”

“She is, I think.”

“You better be more certain than just
think
. I’m out here helping you make brownie points and—”

We both turned our heads at the same sound. Somebody was walking down the lane. Actually, it looked like it was more than one somebody.

“Go and get Mr. Peterson,” I said.

“Nope. There’s more than one of them, so there should be more than one of us out here right now.”

“Two of us isn’t going to help much if there’s ten of them. We need backup with a shotgun.”

“I can’t just leave you here by yourself.”

I pulled the pistol out of its holster. Todd’s eyes widened in surprise.

“But I thought it was agreed we wouldn’t have guns,” he sputtered.

“Herb made me take this. Mr. Peterson knows about it. Now go—they’re getting closer.”

Todd ran off, the sound of gravel crunching under his feet. I could hear them coming—not just their footsteps but their voices as well. There were definitely a lot of them. I had to get to the right position, and that meant going directly toward them, alone, in the dark, not knowing how many of them there were, how they were going to react, and whether they were carrying any weapons.

I took a step forward and had to use every ounce of determination to move the next step and then the next. They were getting louder as I got closer.

We had moved the hay wagon back to the barn, as Herb advised. But we’d replaced it with the tractor, which
we
could use for cover and move quickly if necessary. I came up behind it and I could see the intruders bathed in moonlight coming up the driveway. I tried to do a quick count, but their shapes and shadows blurred together—were there six or seven or five? It didn’t matter, because I was outnumbered.

I hit the switch Mr. Peterson had shown me, and the tractor’s headlights came on, freezing the uninvited visitors in place, hands shielding their eyes. There were seven of them, and they were carrying bats, clubs, and a hockey stick. They also each had a large plastic container. They crowded together under the glare of the lights like they were huddling for safety. I was hoping the lights alone would chase them away, but while they looked confused, even scared, they weren’t retreating.

“Who’s there?” one of them yelled out.

They didn’t wait for an answer. They started walking forward again.

“Stay where you are!” I yelled out. My voice sounded shrill and unsure, but it stopped them again.

“Step out where we can see you,” one of them demanded.

There was no way I was going to do that. They started inching forward again.

“You were told to stop moving!” Mr. Peterson stepped out of the trees, no more than two dozen feet in front of them, leading with his shotgun. He took a few steps forward, and they backed up the same distance.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded.

Todd came up behind me at the tractor. Off to the side I caught sight of Mrs. Peterson in the shadows, holding her rifle.

“This is private property,” Mr. Peterson said.

“We just need water,” one of the men said, holding up a container.

“You just need to leave,” Mr. Peterson said.

“Come on, mister, we need some water for our families.”

“If you only need water, why are you carrying weapons?” he demanded.

“To protect ourselves,” another man said. “It’s getting dangerous out there.”

“It’s going to be more dangerous for you
here
if you don’t move, right now! Get off my land!”

All except one of the men started to back off. “Look, I understand we shouldn’t have startled you in the middle of the night like this,” the man said. “But if you have any, I can’t leave without water. My kids need it. Are you really going to shoot me for that?”

Nobody moved. Nobody talked. Somebody had to do something. I slipped my pistol into my pocket, where it was still handy, and stepped forward.