The phone rang, causing Arthur to jump out of the concentration he was in. He dropped his pen to the side and reached for the receiver, picking it up on the third ring.
"Crowe's Tavern, Arthur speaking."
"Son.... Name's David Rogers from Rail Station Number 30."
"Oh hello, Mr. Rogers. What can I do for you today? We haven't got another shipment there already, have we?"
"No, my boy. Something more serious, I'm afraid." The voice on the other end of the line paused and Arthur sat up straight.
"What is it?"
"One of our engineers called in a few minutes ago. Apparently they had a run in with a car at the western crossroads, next to the old depot. He gave a good description of the vehicle and I thought you guys might want to know about it... What with all the traffic you've been getting at your place lately. I was going to call the proper authorities, but I thought about you folks first."
"Sure, Mr. Rogers..." Arthur bit his lip, his heart pounding in his chest has he secretly hoped that the car didn't belong to anyone at the Crowe's Nest. "What'd it look like?"
"Fire engine red, Chevy Chevelle," Arthur's mouth dropped open as he recognized the description of Colin's car immediately. David Rogers continued, "Apparently the driver raced the train for a couple of miles before trying to cross the tracks. My engineer says that they clipped the Chevy at a good rate, sent it flying through the air."
"Oh dear Lord..." Arthur stood up, glancing frantically around the room. "I've got to go, Mr. Rogers... I've got to go...." He moved to hang up the phone and then spoke once more into the receiver, "We'll look after it, Mr. Rogers... Thank you, thank you very much." Arthur tossed the phone onto the desk and ran out the door.
"Whoa there, Artie... where's the fire!?" Andy shouted from behind the bar as he saw Arthur cross the room in a hurry.
"Colin... accident... train..." Arthur gasped, tripping over chairs as he scrambled forward.
"What?" Andy dropped his towel to the counter, "Speak proper English, mate... I can't understand a word you're saying! What's this about Colin?"
Arthur stopped at the door, his chest heaving. "There's been an accident... Mr. Rogers from the Train Station telephoned. Colin's been hit by a train..." And then Arthur was gone, racing down the street towards the Hotel.
"Holy shit..." Andy stood stunned, his eyes wide. Seconds later, when his limbs found the ability to move he was out the door himself.
"I think she'd like some fruit... maybe some juice, apple juice. Or maybe some ginger ale, that would go down nice and easy." Peaches listed off the items on her fingers.
"And some toast, you think?" Jeff added and Peaches nodded in agreement. " Alrighty... I'll head over to the Tavern and have Rick fix it up. I'll run it up to 'Chelle in about half an hour." He smiled softly as Rick's name crossed his lips, "I'll be back in a while." Jeff slipped out the back door and Peaches was left alone in the lobby of the Hotel. She leaped down in her seat with a heavy sigh, shaking her head at all that had happened in the last 12 hours.
"It couldn't possibly get any worse," she muttered to herself and then turned suddenly as the door burst open behind her, Andy and Arthur stumbling through, both of them talking at once.
"Hold up!!" Peaches spoke finally, holding her hands up as she glanced between the two young men. "One at a time please! Arthur?"
Taking a deep breath, Arthur explained the phone call with David Rogers. After he was done, everyone stood in stunned silence.
"Andy... go find Cort... he should be up at the stables with East. I'll get the van and meet you at the end of the road. Arthur, run into the back and pick me up some extra blankets out of the linen closet and see if you can find Max, he should be back there fixing a few of the shelves for me."
Both men nodding in acknowledgement and went about their assignments. Peaches glanced up at the ceiling as she reached for the keys to the van, thinking of Michelle sleeping peacefully upstairs in her room. "Dear God... let her sleep through this... this is the last thing she needs."
Loria rounded the corner and turned down the main street of the Crowe's Nest. To the left she saw what looked like Andy, running up the hill towards the stables. She hissed between her teeth as she looked at Colin, noticing the fresh blood on his hand, the rag she had used to bandage it soaked through. She pulled another rag from her pocket and pressed it against his hand, causing him to moaned.
"We're here, Colin...." She spoke softly, pulling up to the Tavern, and setting the emergency brake. She leapt out of the driver's side and ran around, opening the door and helping Colin out of his seat. "Careful now..." she slid an arm around his waist and braced his arm over her shoulder, supporting most of his weight.
"Colin?!" A female voice called from up the street but Loria kept walking, trying to keep her step steady as she moved towards the stairs. "Colin!? Loria!!" Finally, Loria looked up briefly to see Peaches running towards them, Max right behind her.
"Help me get him inside... he's going into shock." Within seconds, Max was on Colin's other side and together they helped him up the front stairs and into the Tavern.
Peaches directed them towards the fireside room and they lay him on the sofa. Liz had keep the fireplace going all morning and it was crackling loudly, filling the room with it's warmth.
"We've got to get him out of these wet clothes." Max muttered as he stripped Colin of his jacket and shirt and started on his shoes. "Ladies, I think it's best if you step out for a bit." Maximus spoke firmly, not glancing up from his duties.
"Here's the first aid kit, Max..." Arthur stumbled into the doorway, breathing heavily. Maximus took it with a nod, spreading out its contents in front of him.
"Let me help, Max..." Loria moved to kneel down beside him.
Maximus glanced up quickly, giving her a quick smile, but his eyes held an unusual seriousness. "No, thank you Loria... Thank you for all you've done so far.... but Arthur and I will manage. I think it's best if you leave. Peaches, send the others over here when Andy brings them down from the stables and see if you can find John. Have Annabella boil us some water and Arthur will be out for it shortly." Maximus pulled a knife out of his pocket and started slicing open Colin's jeans. Loria nodded numbly as she joined Peaches at the door.
"You don't need anything out of your room before we go?"
Tina shook her head, linking her arm with John's as they walked through the lobby. Peaches was overseeing the arrangement of a new shipment of roses, their heady scent already enhancing the interior with hints of honey, spices and fresh fruits. The technician smiled softly, something Biebe immediately noticed.
"Made me think. It's been a while since I sent a bouquet to the ETU office."
"Yeah, it has been, Sheriff, it has been. You can't believe the raised eyebrows every time I get one. Tina's got a secret admirer. That's what they all tease me about. And all they know is, he's not on the police department, and he's not from Louisville."
"It doesn't embarrass you? The teasing I mean?" he asked, holding open the door for her as they stepped outside into the warmth and sunshine of the Nest.
"Are you kidding? No, it doesn't, why should it? It's not every day a woman gets Internet ordered flowers with a card 'To Sunny' whatever-whatever, and then from 'J'. I *love* to see the looks on their faces, especially a couple of them," she admitted, thinking of one co-worker and the unit secretary, both nosy, jealous types.
"You just eat it up, don't you?"
"In one word: Yes!" and they both chuckled. "Yes...I...do." She glanced at her watch. "You're sure we've got time? It's almost 12:30 now."
"Yeah, it's only an hour's drive from here. And it's not like we're actually going hiking or anything, darlin'. Like I said, I just want you to see how beautiful it is up there for when we really *do* go camping. We - a few of the ladies and some of us Boyz - have road tripped in that area. I think you'll love it."
Her smile widened. "I think I will too."
They kissed one another, and although brief, there was desire behind it as well. John thought about what he had said to Tina while they were at the beach. Saying he loved her, and she not being awake to hear him. He was definitely going to have to make it up to her when he told her again - make it something unforgettable and romantic, to equal such a special moment. John had been mulling it over in his mind since realizing she was sleep. Then it had hit him as he recalled the formal dinner Trisha had organized for Laura and Tina when the two had been at odds with their partners, and needed a reunion. Tina had loved it because it suited her nature. What if he....
That was it! A private dinner in the rose gardens, just him and Tina. He would surprise her and ask she wear that gorgeous gown she'd put on for Trisha's evening. The Alaskan smiled to himself. Candlelight - lots of votives and the tall, slender types; the pillar styles, and perhaps some inside lanterns - English roses and sprays of heather. Maybe live music, performing those Thirties and Forties tunes she enjoyed so much. He would get with Annabella and plan a menu around the recipes from that "Last Dinner on the 'Titanic'" book which had been the basis for dinner parties around the world when 'Titanic' fever hit after the movie. Tina had told him of the one she attended at the famous Seelbach Hotel in Louisville - John's would just be smaller, but with the same elegance. He could get some input from Trisha to be sure he was doing the whole thing right. Hey, he would willingly wear a tuxedo just to enhance the atmosphere. The more he considered it, the more it sounded like a winner. And the biggest surprise of all: he would get someone to teach him how to dance.
Biebe regretted he had never been any good at it. Considering how skilled he was at hockey, dancing should have come easily, but it never had, not the way it did with most of his brothers. Tina enjoyed dancing, but John normally bowed out, happy to allow Bud, Colin or Lachlan to dance with her when she liked. He hated feeling so clumsy, despite her attempts to teach him. But he was going to change that immediately, so that when this surprise dinner came about, he could lead her onto the floor, and slow dance to...well, perhaps Cole Porter.
"John?" he heard Tina ask, probably wondering about his Cheshire Cat smile.
"Sorry sweetheart, just...thinking."
"A penny for your thoughts then," she teased, vigorously rubbing his chest.
"Uh-uh."
"Keeping secrets from me, John Biebe?"
"*Moi*? Hide secrets from you?" The sheriff chuckled, holding her a little closer. She would be so lovely in that long, black evening gown, the white wrap draped about her full bodice and falling into a train; the corset cinching her curvaceous full figure in all the right spots. He could just see himself gathering Tina in his arms so they could share their first real dance. He kept imagining 'Isn't It Romantic?' playing in the background...Sighing, he continued. "I can't hide secrets from you, darlin'. Wouldn't even want to try." /Except now// They were almost to the parking lot as he continued. "Nah, I was just thinking what a wild 24 hours we've had around here. I've never seen anything like it."
"Tell me about it. I'm just glad no newcomer showed up, or they might have left and never come back. It was just *too* weird."
"Yeah, well, I hope we don't see craziness like *that* again for a long time. Geez, what a freaking night. Doesn't look as if the insanity's going to end anytime soon either."
Reaching in a pocket to withdraw her car keys, Tina asked, smiling, "Why? You Boyz planning on trashing the Tavern again? I missed the initial part of that, remember? Time for a replay."
Loria followed Peaches outside and both of them spotted the others immediately, waving them down.
"What's happened?" Cort rushed to her side.
"Colin's inside... Max and Arthur are looking after him... in the fireside room."
"How is he?" East removed his hat as he stepped forward.
"The bugger tried to race a two hundred ton train, how do you think he is?!" Andy muttered, rolling his eyes.
"A train!" Loria's mouth dropped open. "He was hit by a train!?"
Peaches turned, giving Andy a passing glare, "You didn't see it happen?"
"No..." Loria shook her head. 'I... he was lying on the side of the road... his car was in the pond, I just thought he'd gone off the road."
"And then some..." Andy chuckled. His grin dropped when he saw the unimpressed glances aimed his way. Peaches turned away from him, her attention focused on Cort and East. "I need you guys to head out and get the car..."
Andy moved to stand next to Cort, "What for? I'm sure the thing's a write off."
"Andy, shut the hell up..." Cort smacked him on the back of the head and Andy bit his lip, muttering under his breath.
"Find young Johnny's truck, it's got a winch on it. We need to get Colin's car out of the pond before...." Peaches didn't complete her sentence, but Cort and East demeanor changed and she knew they understood. Loria glanced between them, trying to understand what Peaches was referring too.
"Holy shit," Andy exclaimed, "He's let the cat out of the bag, hasn't he?!" Andy's eyes grew wide as his mind comprehended what Peaches had meant.
Ignoring Andy, Cort nodded and he and East turned, "We'll get on it right away." They crossed the street and Andy started after them.
"Andy!?" Peaches called after him and Andy stopped in his tracks, turning slowly, his hands stuffed in his pockets. "I need you to find John for me. Tell that it's urgent... Max needs him in the fireside room."
Andy nodded, frowning as he glanced over his shoulder to see Cort and East disappear into the back of the garage.
"Now, Andy..." Peaches raised an eyebrow and Andy scooted off down the street.
Andy kicked a stray rock, grumbling under his breath as he headed towards the Hotel. "Why do I always have to be the messenger boy!?" Mimicking Peaches' voice, Andy stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets, "I need you to find John for me... Now Andy..." He knew where to find John, whereever Tina was. And then his eyes brightened. If he found them quickly enough, maybe he could catch up to Cort and East and join in on the real excitement. He remembered seeing the two lovebirds in the Hotel restaurant last, still talking over a late breakfast. Andy's step quickened and he rounded the corner approaching the Hotel from the parking lot.
He stopped suddenly, smiling as he saw Tina and John a few feet ahead of him. He stood behind a nearby oak and watched them for a moment, their backs to him. It always made him smile, seeing Tina on John's arm, seeing the way they looked at each other. He stepped forward to interrupt them, but stopped again when he heard John chuckle softly.
John chuckled again. "Nah...I was just thinking about what we saw in the restaurant. I can't get over that. I mean, he didn't raise his voice; no offensive comments. It was like a whole new Hando...or some escaped good twin he's kept locked in the attic. I'm like Rick. Just when I think I've seen it all up..." He paused on realizing that Tina had not yet hit the remote control on her key. Looking down at her, he realized Tina was still beside him, but she was unmoving, gazing at him with a distant sadness that made John's smile fade. "Tina?" She didn't answer. "Sweetheart? Something...uh,...something wrong?"
"You still don't understand," came the flat whisper, her voice beginning to choke.
John gulped. Shit...what had happened? "Sweetheart?"
The next words were clipped and choked. "You still...don't...understand."
Biebe shook his head, baffled. "I don't - - Tina, darlin', what...."
"After everything we went through yesterday - After everything that happened last...." She turned away momentarily, and when she looked at him again, her eyes had filled with tears. John felt his heart sink as he saw the pain on her features, and immediately, he regretted what he said. At the time it seemed so innocent, but now....
"Tina...Tina, I'm...I'm sorry, darlin'. I was...I didn't mean...." He stepped towards her, but she eased back a little. "Aw sweetheart..." His heart was breaking seeing the way she looked at him. God, he couldn't believe he had screwed up again, and his chest tightened, breathing increasing. "Tina..." For a moment he thought she would faint.
"John," she stepped back again, an act which caused his soul to sink. Why did she keep moving from him? "John...I'm...I'm sorry."
"No darlin', no. I'm the one who's sorry. I was joking, but I didn't realize...Please...I'm sorry." He felt close to begging, disbelieving that this was happening.
"I...Maybe we'd better not take that ride right now," came the matter-of-fact words.
"Darlin'..."
"I need to be alone...think things over." She shook her head, her lower lip quivering. "This isn't...I never thought...I...I need to be alone, John," she stressed in a louder tone, as if trying to convince herself that she needed to be apart from him. Again, she moved backwards.
"Tina..." He held out one hand, his gut screaming in pain as though part of him was being ripped away.
"John...it's not your fault, but...I need some space...please." Trembling, she stopped and took a step forward, seeming to approach him again, but on muttering, "I'm sorry," she turned on her heels and quickly walked back along the path to the hotel.
"Tina!" Biebe screamed, and she thankfully looked back. "Listen to me, sweetheart. Please listen." His voice broke as he pleaded, desperate that she hear him. "I swore to you last night...I promised you, I...I will never let Hando hurt you in any way. If he ever does or says *anything* that could harm you, I'll tear his little freaking body into so many pieces they'll *never* put him back together. I'd never let that son-of-a-bitch do something to you. You know that, don't you?" He watched her nod. "I'll take care of you, darlin', the best I can. None of us would let Hando hurt you."
He held his breath as he watched her consider that,...but when she again took a step in reverse, it was like a punch to the stomach.
"You shouldn't *have* to protect me! I come to this place to feel better than I do at home. I don't need..." She paused, shaking her head. "He just keeps moving closer and closer, John, can't you see that? And you know and I know he has a perfect right. This is *his* home, too, as much as it is yours, or Max's, or the others. You can't stop him forever."
"We can if it means protecting you."
"Fine, but you can't protect me from him if he's here!" she exclaimed, pointing at her head. "He's in my dreams now, John! My freaking dreams! That's one of the most private things a person has, and he's invading mine! What the hell can you do about that, huh?!" Stunned at her own anger towards her gentle Alaskan, Tina briefly buried her face in her hands and whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I shouldn't....Oh Jesus, Jesus...what's he done to..." Tears streamed down her cheeks when she looked at Biebe's own sad expression. "I can't, John, I can't...I can't."
"Tina...."
"John, please! Just...Just...I need to think. Can't you understand that?! I need to think! I have to be alone!" and this time her pace quickened as she practically ran towards Crowe's Hotel.
His heart was thumping so hard he could hear it in his ears. He watched her retreating form, his feet unable to move as the last few minutes replayed in his mind. An innocent comment, and now his world and hers had crashed around them. He didn't realize it would be taken the way it had, that she would react so sensitively. But he also hadn't taken into account how traumatized she had been by her nightmare on the beach. She might behave as though everything was all right now, however, the remnants of the dream still remained. Perhaps she *was* right. Although race never entered their relationship, he supposed there were things he could not understand. Tina always said how much she despised people who constantly used race as an excuse to justify their own mistakes. This, however, was different, and God knew he would never, never hurt her, not purposefully.
"Fucking stupid, John Biebe!" he said aloud, clinching his fists. "Stupid, stupid, stupid - - STUPID!" he shouted, picking up a large stone and hurling it so hard, it bounced off a tree trunk and nearly ricocheted into a nearby car. Great - - that's all he would have needed. Deciding that doing a Bud White imitation wasn't exactly his style, John sighed, frustrated, and gave a slight kick at a few rocks. He stared along the path, sighing again as he saw Tina open the front door and hurry inside. Feeling as though a vice was gripping his forehead, John heard himself whisper "Tina," his eyes swelling with tears.
And again the words chided him. "Stupid, stupid, stupid - - STUPID!"
Hando stared silently out the passenger window, watching the small community drift past the glass and fade away to a forested roadside. He could hear Syrena's fingers tapping on the steering wheel, keeping time with the low beat of the music. The road wound and twisted up a small mountainside then down on the western slope, toward the sea. His mind roiled in a maelstrom of thoughts and memories, and his vision blurred, unfocussed, until the gnarled trees, constantly buffetted by the coastal winds, were naught but a swath of mottled greens beyond the glass. He had lived a life of prejudice and power for so many years, making his socio-political beliefs plainly clear, but now, in this place, he felt those beliefs begin to crumble and confusion set in.
His brow furrowed as he thought of his encounter with Jeff and Rick, and he subconsicously clenched his fists, tightening the tendons and flesh around his wounds, and inhaled a hissing breath as tendrils of pain shot up his arms. He opened his hands, laying them flat on his knees, and continued watching the blur of greens flow by outside the window.
* * * * *
Syrena heard the hiss of his breath and glanced from the road to look at him. His head was slightly turned away from her, and she allowed her eyes to trace the dark line of the tattoo that ran up his neck. She yearned to reach out to him, to let him know that everything was going to be okay, but she tightened her grip on the wheel and dragged her eyes back to the road before her. The horizon stretched out in an endless line before her, interrupted only by the spire of a lone fishing boat in the north, about 8 miles out from the harbour there. Long lines of white capped waves broke on an expansive beach of pale sand, and to the south of the beach sat a basalt formation stood impervious to the pounding surf, sending spray high into the air. Seagulls and sandpipers wheeled and swooped against the blue sky, and she imagined she could hear their cries long before they were within aural reach. She continued tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, guiding the truck toward the sand-covered parking lot at the base of the hill.
Hando remained silent as she eased the truck into the empty parking lot and set the brake. She glanced at him and kerbed her urge to reach out and lay her hand on his arm. Her knuckles whitened against the steering wheel for a moment. So what now? The silent query bounced through her head as she released the wheel and turned the engine off. The truck, now silent, sat clicking as it cooled, buffetted by small gusts of coastal wind that rocked it gently on its shocks. She took a deep breath, holding it for a second before letting it out in a soft sigh, and turned to open the door and set her boots on the sand-covered blacktop.
* * * * *
As the brisk ocean air rushed through the open door, Hando broke from his reverie and looked toward her. She pushed the door closed behind her, not looking back, and walked to the edge of the blacktop. He watched her raise her face to the horizon, her hands clasped behind her back and the wind pulling her hair back from her neck and twisting her jacket behind her. The sun was slightly west of noon, and her shadow stood in a pool at her feet, swaying slightly as she did against the wind. His thoughts moved tempestously, jumping from past to present to future and back again, and he reached for the handle. He stepped quietly out of the cab, fighting the wind to close the door silently, and walked hesitantly to her side. Her eyes were closed, and there was a slight smile on her lips as she breathed deeply of the fresh ocean air. He moved closer to her, his arm almost brushing against hers, and watched her blindly take in the presence of the sea.
He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, resisting the urge to just take her in his arms and stake his claim on her body, and turned to look out at the sea. The horizon stretched out in the distance, the sky reaching down to kiss the water, the bluff to the north pressing determinedly into the pounding surf, the lighthouse standing solemnly on the edge of the bluff to warn away approaching vessels. Long waves broke and crept up onto the sand of the beach, leaving behind foamy tendrils to be battered to nothingness by the constant wind. The sky was a brilliant blue, but a darkness rested on the horizon, foreboding and ominous. Hando's memories kicked in, recalling a gloomy day on a beach not too unlike this one, the last day of his previous life.
He closed his eyes against both the salty air outside and the salty tears within as they welled up and threatened to fall. Davey, didn't you understand that I needed you? His breath caught in his throat; he struggled to swallow the lump that had arisen there and concentrated on drawing the brisk air into his lungs. His knees suddenly felt like liquid, the lump in his throat constricted, and the grey-green water blended with the grey-blue sky on the horizon then faded to a uniform grey before his eyes. He raised his hand to his neck and crumpled slowly to the sandy ground. He could feel the heavy fabric of his coat between his body and the ground. Underneath the sound of the wind and waves, he heard a vehicle approach and stop--it sounded large--then the engine noise segued into jabbered conversation in a language he didn't understand. The sounds faded until there was but white noise in his ears, accompanying the greyness before his eyes.
* * * * *
Syrena felt Hando's magnetism as he came to stand beside her but resisted the pull. She listened closely, letting the sounds of the sea fade to the background and concentrating on the cadence of his breathing beside her. Though his breath was carried away by the wind, she could feel it against her skin, and she longed to lean a little closer, just to brush against him, to feel the warmth of his arms around her like the night before. Calm yourself, Sy. One step at a time here, she chided herself silently. She noticed the hitch in his breathing but didn't turn to look at him, trying to bring her emotions under control. The wind picked up for a moment and whipped around her form, causing her to sway slightly in her stance, and the smile on her face grew into a full bore grin. The power of nature on the seashore had always fascinated her, and she felt an infusion of power rise up from her centre--the ocean always made her feel invincible and powerless, an odd combination but strangely comforting to her.
Her meditation was abruptly interrupted when Hando suddenly stumbled against her, his hand pressed to his neck, and fell in a heap at her feet. She knelt immediately at his side and looked into his face. His features were relaxed in unconsciousness, and the hand he had pressed to his neck dropped limply to the ground. She pressed her hand to his cheek, feeling his heat and stubble against her palm, and ran her thumb across his thick eyebrow, smoothing it gently. His legs were bent awkwardly beneath him, so she reached down to straighten them before easing behind him to lift him into a sitting position. She rested his head against her shoulder and wrapped her arms around him, rocking him gently until he regained consciousness. Her voice, breathing almost inaudibly against the conch of his ear, was the first thing he heard upon awakening.
Andy ducked as the rock bounced off the tree, only a few inches from hitting him in the head. "Bloody hell!" he hissed under his breath as he stayed low to the ground, half expecting John to start using the tree for target practice. When nothing happened, he stood slowly, peering out from behind one of the parked cars. John had turned back towards the Hotel, watching Tina run inside. He was kicking at the ground, his long hair hanging about his face and hiding his eyes, but Andy could see the tension in John's shoulders, and he recognized the gesture as John stuffed his hands deep into his pockets.
Andy wondered about leaving, but now probably wasn't a good time. He frowned as he thought about facing Peaches without the Sheriff at his side and decided that he would just have to give it a try. The worst thing John could say is to get himself lost. Andy stepped out from behind the car, calling John's name softly. Biebe's lifted his head, his gaze focused on the front door of the Hotel. His mouth moved, quivering slightly as it spoke silent words.
"John..." Andy called again, louder this time, but still the Alaskan looked away.
"John. We need you at the Tavern. It's an emergency." Andy walked forward until he was standing right behind Biebe, staring at his broad back. Biebe didn't turn and Andy noted that his breathing was coming out like quiet sobs.
"John... You're needed at the Tavern... It's very urgent." John turned his head slightly.
"What's wrong?" He asked, his voice a dry whisper.
"There's been an accident... a bad one." Andy moved to stand beside John, and the Alaskan turned slightly, brushing a hand over his face, his eyes still focused on the Hotel.
"Max needs you John... it's an..."
"An emergency... I heard you, Andy." John lowered his gaze and kicked at another rock. Suddenly he glanced up and Andy found a pair of tear-filled eyes staring back at him. "And I suppose you can't find anyone else for the job, eh? Got a problem, call Sheriff Biebe... Well, you know what... this sheriff is about to quit!" Clenching his teeth, John turned, giving a fleeting glance towards the Hotel before he started up the street.
"So who's been pushed through a pane glass window now?" John growled, Andy trotting beside him trying to keep up with the Alaskan's wide strides.
"Um... it's not that..." Andy shook his head.
John stopped, his eyes narrowing as he gazed at his younger 'brother.' "Don't tell me you're going mum on me."
Andy lowered his eyes, looking up the street towards the Tavern. "It's Colin... he's been in an accident, a bad one. He decided to drag race a train this morning....."
With a tightening of his jaw, John turned slowly and walked up the steps of the Tavern and inside. Andy stared after him and then giving a slight shrug, followed after him.
His hand resting on the door knob, John took a deep breath before entering the fireside room. Max was kneeling beside O'Brien, removing the bloodstained rag that covered his hand.
"He's a lucky bastard, John... apparently his car ended up in the pond after being clipped by the..." Max looked up and immediately noticed the tension in John's face, the moisture in his eyes, and knew instantly that something was wrong. He stared at John for a moment, searching his eyes. Something had definitely happened and Max knew that John was neither ready, nor in the mood to deal with the situation at hand. "It's alright John... I can look after things here. I... Colin's going to wish that he'd drowned in that pond after I'm through stitching him up, but he'll live." Maximus tried to smile, but dropped it when he saw John glance at O'Brien. "Go John... he'll be fine.
"Fuck him... the son of a bitch is breaking her heart as well as his own. If he keeps this shit up, she's going to leave him for good and after that he'll be as good as dead anyways. No soulmate, no soul." John closed his eyes and turned away.
Hando rose slowly to consciousness, and his mind registered the words as she sang them, almost whispering, rocking gently to an unheard rhythm against the wind. He kept his eyes closed, reveling for a moment in the feel of her arms around him and the sound of her voice. One of her arms was wrapped around his chest, holding him close to her with her hand between his arm and his body. Her free hand caressed his shorn head, her fingers tracing the ridges and bumps of his skull, and he smiled despite the roiling memories in his mind.
He opened his eyes, squinting against the brilliance of the day, and raised his hands to cover hers. He heard her voice catch in her throat when he touched her, and he shifted slightly to look up at her. "I...," his voice came out in a croak, and he cleared his throat. "Thanks," he forced the word out over his tongue and squeezed her hands in his.
"No worries, Hando. You okay?"
"Yeah, I... I guess... I was just... thinking of...," his voice dropped to a hiss, "Davey."
Syrena nodded silently, not really knowing what to say in response his statement. She knew how important Davey had been to him, his best mates for years. She tried to imagine how it would feel to be so betrayed by someone in whom she had complete faith and fell short of conjuring the image. Her heart skipped a beat when he brought her hands to his lips to press a kiss against each palm before extricating himself from her embrace and clambering to his feet.
She accepted his proffered hand and rose to find herself enfolded in his arms. In his eyes she could see the desire as he leaned toward her then drew back with a different emotion--Is that fear?--in his eyes. She smiled, raising her hands to press them against his chest, and took a step back. His arms fell to his sides, and he lowered his gaze to the ground with a heavy sigh. Syrena took his chin in her hand and raised it to look into his eyes. "It's okay, Hando," her voice carried on the wind, and she watched his reaction as she leaned forward to press her lips to his cheek for a moment before turning to walk to the truck.
She ran her fingers lightly along the curves of the white truck as she made her way to the back to retrieve supplies for the day. Her brow was furrowed; she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the tinted glass of the canopy and stopped for a moment. The angle at which she stood allowed her to see both her own reflection and Hando's, and she frowned harder, watching him stand where she had left him with his back bowed in almost a posture of defeat. Maybe the beach wasn't the best place to spend the day, she thought. She let her eyes wander away from Hando's still form to the horizon and smiled, No, I needed the beach after last night. Maybe he'll be able to open up a bit, what with all these memories. At that, she continued her track to the rear of the truck and busied herself pulling supplies out and stacking them on the sand-covered tarmac. Blanket roll, utensils, garbage bag, jacket, towels... what else should I bring? I should have filled the cooler with ice before we left... Oh well, hind sight's 20/20, eh? She chuckled softly as she surveyed the interior of the truck, double checking for other things to bring along before closing the canopy.
Reasonably satisfied with her small pile of supplies, she made her way forward to the cab and grabbed the bags of food that Rick had prepared for them. She moved to back out of the cab but was stopped abruptly by someone standing behind her. Syrena jumped forcibly, almost losing her balance and crushing the boxes of food before catching herself on the steering wheel. The horn blared when she hit it with her arm, and she yelped, jerking her arm off the horn as if it were on fire. Adrenaline coursed through her muscles, and she fought to catch her breath, sliding the food back across the seat and turning to sit behind the wheel. "Damn, Hando, you about gave me a coronary," she laughed, looking at him and seeing the expression on his face.
"Sorry, Sy, didn't mean to scare you." His voice was low, and he stepped back from the door, a movement that was almost a cringe.
"Hey," she reached out a laid a hand on his arm, squeezing gently. "It's okay, eh? I guess my mind was just elsewhere... didn't mean to flip out there."
"D'ya need a hand?"
"Yeah, that'd be great. Let's get this stuff together and figure out how we're going to carry it all, right?" He nodded in acquiescence and stepped forward to take the food from her. She locked the doors and followed him to the pile of supplies on the ground. "So, what do you think? Think we can get all this stuff?"
"No worries, love," he turned and smiled at her, a genuine smile that radiated gratitude, and she couldn't help but grin. He bent down and stuffed the utensils into one of the bags of food, the towels and the garbage bag into the other. The blanket roll had a leather strap, and he slung it over his shoulder as he stood up.
Syrena tied her jacket around her waist and locked the canopy, smiling at the reflection of Hando standing there holding two plastic bags and the leather strap across his chest. He looks out of place, she thought then turned to face him. "Want me to carry one of those bags?"
"Nah, I got it. So where to?"
"Well, there's a little cove down the beach about half a mile or so, good rocks for climbing and tidepools and a nice secluded bit of sand. I figured we could head down there for lunch. Sound good?"
"Sounds bonzer, Sy." He turned on his heels and strode across the parking lot and into the dry sand. Syrena followed after a couple seconds, taking long steps to catch up then falling into step beside him as they slogged through the shifting sand to the firm tide line and turned south. They walked in silence, surrounded by the roar of the waves and the rush of the wind, leaving a trail of footprints in the sand, the only proof of their passing until the waves rose to wash them away.
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Andy had entered the Tavern, hot on John's heels, but the Sheriff had quickly closed the fireside door behind him and Andy took the hint that he wasn't welcome inside.
"Hey Andy!" He felt a slap on his shoulder and turned to see Steve, camera bags strapped over his shoulders. "How about a cold beer, buddy. I'm absolutely parched."
"Make that three beers, Andy." Zack entered, a beautiful female on his arm. Andy nodded to Kelly, smiling softly.
"Sure thing, mates. Have a seat and I'll be with you in two ticks."
Steve approached the bar, dropping his bags to the floor. "Any exciting news today, Andy?"
"Let it rest, Steve." Jeffrey Wigand appeared in the side door, his arms laden with a tray of clean beer mugs. Steve chuckled, shaking his head.
"C'mon old man... I just want the latest, so much has happened in the last few hours... it seems we're on a roll.
"Did you hear Colin took a train head on?!" Young Johnny bounced into the room, right behind Wigand.
"No shit!" Steve stared at him, his eyes wide.
"Yeah... it was a big shit, the schmuck." Zack smacked Johnny up the back of the head. "And, it wasn't head on. The idiot felt the need to race a train and got clipped as he tried to cross the tracks."
"YEAH!" Johnny nodded enthusiastically, glancing sideways at Zack as he rubbed the back of his head. "I've raced trains before, but shit, mate... I've never taken one of them on..."
"Is the bastard going to be alright?" Steve glanced around the room.
Andy nodded towards the fireside room as he passed around several mugs of beer. "Max and John are looking after him now. Peaches sent Cort and East to pull the car out of the pond."
"Shit..." Zack shook his head, "I'd hate to see what it looks like now." Steve shook his head, swallowing a mouthful of beer,
"Hell man... I'd pay to see it... I bet it's banged up good... Man, O'Brien took on a bloody train. I don't fuckin' believe it!"
"That's not all..." Andy rubbed absently at one the new glasses that Wigand had brought in from the kitchen.
"I knew it!" Steve slapped the palm of his hand down on the counter, "I knew it... Andy, the best set of ears and eyes in town."
Andy blushed, grinning sheepishly. "I don't know..."
"Ah, c'mon man... don't keep us waiting!" Steve tapped the edge of the bar. Arthur appeared from the kitchen, Annabella right behind him. Their arms loaded with blankets and first aid supplies.
Andy raised his arms. "Alright... Alright!!" He leaned back against the wall, "It's John and Tina..." He glanced up and noticed that all eyes were on him.
"John and Tina?" Zach and Kelly spoke together.
"What's up with the two lovebirds?" Steve asked between sips of his beer.
"Well, that's just it..." Andy watched as everyone's stood still, waiting for him to speak. "But let me start at the beginning..." He looked down at the mug he was cleaning. He spoke quickly, telling them word for word what he had witnessed out in the parking lot. Everyone stared at him, eyes wide, hanging on his every word.
His heart aching within his chest, John sighed heavily and stepped out the door into the main room of the Tavern. He let his eyes adjust to the brightness filtering in from the front windows as he focused on the group that had gathered around the bar.
"And then she started crying," Andy was saying from behind the bar, "going on about how Hando had invaded her dreams and what was John going to do about that...."
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Arms full, Arthur shifted awkwardly, trying to balance the hot water kettle in one hand and a set of clean bandages and towels in the other. He turned his head, cracking his neck to the side as he listened intently to the turn of events as Andy wove them. He noticed a movement off to the side and glanced in that direction, his mouth dropping open as he saw John Biebe watching them.
Arthur stammered, his mouth suddenly dry. He glanced quickly between the still talking Andy and John, who stood silently at the entrance to the fireside room, his hand still holding the door knob. Arthur met the Sheriff's gaze, immediately sensing the anguish there.
"John..." Arthur's voice caught in his throat, coming out as a high squeak. The bandages and towels wobbled in his hand before tumbling to the floor, the movement causing Andy to glance in Arthur's direction. As he did, Andy saw John and he stopped mid-sentence, the glass in his hand falling to the floor, shattering to pieces.
Zack followed Andy's gaze, "Oh shit, John...." He stood slowly, not daring to look John in the face. Everyone turned and all eyes were on the Alaskan. "John, we're all so sorry about you and Tina."
John stared at Andy, who refused to meet his gaze, shame and guilt written all over his young face. He fumbled nervously with the bar towel, ringing it in his hands. John turned his eyes to the others, noting how their looks of shock and surprise were quickly turning to an uneasy stare. He stared back at them, letting them see the sadness in his eyes. In a matter of minutes, one of the most private moments of his life had been made public, something so close to his heart that it was like he had been ripped open wide and placed on display for the whole world to see. Andy lifted his head slowly, risking a glance across the room. John caught him instantly, holding his gaze for several seconds. And then suddenly John turned away from them, walking the few steps to the stairs.
The group of them watched in silence as John walked upstairs, his hand gripped tightly to the railing and his feet taking each labored step. He disappeared down the hallway and they released a collective breath, only to jump suddenly when they heard a door slam loud enough to cause the whole building to shudder around them.
