Eddie’s Prize (2 page)

She stared past the driver’s shoulder. “Is this an actual town? It looks as rundown as some of the abandoned houses we passed on our walk.”

Buildings looked like they had been half torn down and their windows taken away. There was a familiar fast food restaurant to their right, looking like it had been out of business for fifty years, abandoned for the elements to fade and wear away.

“The recession must have hit this area hard,” Carla suggested doubtfully.

Further in, roads became smoother, and efforts had been made to clean things up. They rolled past walls that separated whole blocks. The road went from dirt to something like cobblestones. The wagon seat bounced like a car with bad shocks. Even Carla, who Lisa thought was a rough and tumble tomboy sort of girl, looked a little green. Lisa was afraid her lunch was going to escape. Soon they saw people, all men, come out of buildings and take notice of them.

“Women!” shouted one, pointing at the wagon.

Lisa smothered a scowl. Paparazzi could be anywhere, and she didn’t want to show up in any gossip rags with a frown on her face. Still, how rude of those men to point and stare as if they’d never seen a woman before. This town didn’t look much better than the weird religious fort they just left. No cars, no street lights, or stores that she could see. The wagon slowed to a stop with a jangle of harness and a stomp of hooves in front of a gate in a wall. The farmers spoke quietly to the man at the gate, indicating Lisa and Carla with a wave of his hand. The gate guard craned his head to look at them with an open mouth.

“Yep, the mayor’s home,” the guard said, still looking at the women with wide eyes. “Probably in his office.”

The gate opened and they were waved through. Carla arched a brow at Lisa, who shrugged.

Inside the wall, the scenery went from urban disaster to country sprawl. It was pretty. This is what Lisa expected from the walled fortress she and Carla found earlier that morning. Tall meadow grass grew on either side of the road, and a big white Victorian house with pillars guarding its veranda stood at the end of the gravel drive. Some smaller houses were nearby, as well as a barn and other well-maintained buildings. The wagon rumbled down the drive to the front of the house. A couple of men stood on the wide porch. The wagon stopped about ten yards away. One of the men, big-bellied with brown hair and a grizzled, graying beard, came down the steps to stand a few yards away from the wagon.

One of the Odessa guards stepped forward to shake the man’s hand. “Mayor Madison,” he said loudly and lowered his voice to speak further.

Lisa exchanged a half-laughing, half-horrified look with her friend. Mayor? He looked like a beer-bellied, aging hippy with a hangover. Carla stood up and swung herself over the side of the wagon, landing on the dirt driveway with easy grace. Lisa doubted she could jump even if her feet hadn’t been killing her.

The second man flowed down the steps with the lithe grace of a cat. When the sun hit him, Lisa caught her breath. His hair was golden, a halo of curls around his face. His face was elegant, sun-kissed to a creamy golden tan, perfection in each clear-cut feature. As a model, Lisa worked with many handsome men, but none of them could top this one. Such beautiful blue-green eyes with dark lush lashes shouldn’t belong to a man. That wide, gracefully curving, kissable mouth made Lisa wonder what he would taste like. He could almost be called pretty, except his jaw was hard, his chin square, and his shoulders broad.

He came and stood beside the wagon. For once she didn’t notice a single thing that could be enhanced in the appearance of someone she met for the first time. He was a golden god. Lisa stared, besotted, into his beautiful, dark-lashed eyes until she heard Carla snort.
Oh, my God
, she said to herself.
I must look like a freshman mooning over the high school quarterback
. She felt the heat of a blush rush to her cheeks. Hoping she didn’t look like a fool, she smiled and waited for him to speak.

“Can I help you down?” asked the golden god. Even his voice made her want to swoon. The deep tone touched something, striking a spark between her thighs.

“Oh,” Lisa began, but before she could finish, he stepped up on the wheel axle, put his hands on her waist, and lifted her without effort to the ground. She stifled a gasp of pain when he put her on her feet. “Thank you.”

“Are you hurt?” he asked with concern.

His words warmed her, but she hurried to brush it off. “No, just a little sore.” She could have stared at him all day, but instead gave herself a brisk, inward shake and extended her hand. “Hi, I’m Lisa Anton. And this is Carla Zimmerman.”

He nodded politely at Carla and turned his eyes back to Lisa, taking her hand like it was breakable, spun glass. “Eddie Madison. Pleased to meet you.” He seemed to have to force himself to look back at Carla. “Pleased to meet you both.”

The other woman nodded distractedly, apparently more interested in the conversation between the bearded, aging hippy and the farmers than the Greek god come to life. There was a line between her brows as she glanced from their escort to Mayor Madison. The golden god listened too, so Lisa tried to focus.

Skinny? The mayor gestured at her, saying something about her being skin and bone. And Carla? The singer was by no means obese, but she was at least twenty pounds too heavy for her height. Lisa tried to follow the conversation, but all she could grasp was the farmers were talking about them like they were used cars they were trying to sell to a skeptical buyer. And the buyer pointed out flaws, like he was trying to get the price dropped down.

“Hey!” said Carla loudly. “We need help. The plane we were in crashed. People are hurt. They need to get to a hospital.”

All the men—and some more had drifted over from the other houses and building in the area—stared. The mayor pointed triumphantly at Carla. “And they’re crazy!” he shouted at the farmers, as if that were a clinching argument.

“They’re fertile,” the farmer countered, “and young enough to have twenty years of child bearing ahead.”

Lisa blinked. The words floated over the top of her mind before sinking in.
“What?”
she gasped.

“The blonde is too skinny to be fertile,” the mayor argued.

The farmer responded, but she didn’t hear it because the golden god had put his hand on her arm and whispered, “I don’t mind you skinny. I’ll see you have plenty of food so you can fatten up.”

Lisa pulled her arm away, half offended, and caught up with the conversation. “Eddie,” the mayor said, “why don’t ya take them gals up to the porch where they can set in the shade? Fetch them some water too. They’re probably thirsty from the drive into town.”

“Sure, Dad,” Eddie said, reaching for Lisa’s arm again.

The farmer grabbed her before Eddie could and jerked her away so violently she stumbled on her aching feet and almost fell. “They can stay put until we finish our business.”

Eddie’s beautiful face was hard and angry. “You be careful with her. You wouldn’t want to damage the merchandise,” he added sarcastically.

Carla looked like she couldn’t believe her ears. “Didn’t you hear me?” she yelled. “I said, there’s been a plane crash and people need medical help!”

Eddie’s dad looked at her with a serious expression. “Don’t you worry, ma’am, we’ll discuss it as soon as these gentlemen and I finish our talk. I promise, we’ll figure out what’s best to do.”

The women stood together beside the wagon, listening in disbelief as the farmers sold them to Eddie’s dad. The other men who came out to see what was going on began filing back and forth, carrying bundles and boxes from one of the barns to the wagon. Her friend was stiff with anger, her arms folded over her chest, her handbag hanging from one elbow. “The going price for two fertile women?” she hissed sarcastically. “Fifty pounds of coffee, a hundred pounds of sugar, and a chunk of salt. Are you insulted? I am. I’m worth at least twice that.”

Lisa nodded numbly. She’d always thought religious people were trustworthy. But these guys were some sort of weird cult. They were lucky the cultists hadn’t done something worse than sell them to the mayor of the neighboring town. She watched the Odessa men turn the wagon and drive away from the house.

“Well, now, ladies,” Mayor Madison said. “Why don’t we go on inside, get you a drink of water, and talk about what needs to be done.”

Eddie walked beside Lisa, and she was aware of the admiring glances he gave her. She cringed when she thought of how horrid she must look with her unwashed, flat hair and dirty, torn clothes. When was the last time she left her apartment looking half this bad?

The inside of the house was quietly elegant, with gleaming hardwood floors and white painted walls. The mayor led them past the foyer and other rooms to the back of the house and into the kitchen where two women, probably a mother and daughter, stood, looking curious. Lisa noticed the lack of modern appliances with unease. Were the Madisons a part of the weird cult too? No, the women wore pants, and the older one’s hair was cut in a short, graying-blonde bob. The few women in Odessa had worn ankle-length skirts and braided hair under white caps. The mayor kissed the elder woman on the cheek.

“This is my wife, Darlene Madison, and my daughter, Brianna,” said the mayor. “You’ve met my boy, Eddie. I’m Ray Madison, mayor of Kearney. Honey, these ladies will be staying with us for a while. They’ve come from Odessa.”

Eddie couldn’t seem to resist stroking his hand along her forearm. “This is Lisa Anton, and this is Carla Zimmerman,” he said.

“Edward,” his mother said warningly, and he stepped away from Lisa with the same uncanny grace he’d moved with before. Lisa was fascinated. Maybe he was a dancer?

Mrs. Madison waved at the table. “You girls sit down. Let me get you something to eat.”

She was a tall woman, wearing a button up cotton shirt and loose denim pants, with a large bosom, broad hips, and a face as beautiful as her son’s. Obviously he took after his mother in looks, not his father. His sister was built like their mother—her blonde hair was brassier and curlier than Eddie’s, her face not quite as pretty. She joined them at the table, looking at them with wonder. Mrs. Madison served them all slices of apple pie and glasses of water.

“Now then,” the mayor said. “Tell us about this plane crash. Where is it?”

The Madison family looked startled as Carla and Lisa explained everything that happened since yesterday morning when they boarded the plane in Minneapolis. Brianna and Mrs. Madison made sounds of horror and sympathy when they described the way the plane bucked and fell, nearly completely out of the pilot’s control, to the earth. The blood and the screams of the dying… Lisa’s mind stuttered to a stop when she remembered Alexander. She struggled silently with tears when she remembered him crying so weakly in her arms until his struggling heart finally stopped beating.

Under the table, Carla patted her knee and continued the story matter-of-factly. “Some of the survivors were sent to try to find help since the plane’s radio didn’t work and neither did the cell phones. We walked yesterday until sundown without finding anyone and started again at dawn. The first people we found were at Odessa. They brought us here. We need to send an air ambulance. Some people were badly hurt but still alive when we left the plane.”

“An airplane,” said Mayor Madison, shaking his head. “You think it’s about thirty or forty miles west of here and a bit north. You can leave that to me. I’ll round up some men, and we’ll get things taken care of. Meanwhile, you gals should go on upstairs and get a good rest.”

A weight fell off Lisa’s shoulders. She had been worried they wouldn’t be able to get help for the survivors they left behind. She paid attention to the pie on her plate. Lisa normally didn’t eat pie—it wasn’t in her diet plan. But this was really good. And even though a half hour ago she had felt nauseous in the wagon, she found now she was really hungry. When she got back to L.A., she’d skimp a little bit to make up for it, but right now she scooped up the last bite of pie with pleasure.

Mrs. Madison noticed. “You look like pie isn’t on the menu for you too often.”

“Not too often,” she agreed with a smile. “It was wonderful. Thank you.”

“Now, there,” said the mayor heartily. “You’re a bit on the scrawny side, but you have nice manners. A man should consider more than looks when he’s shopping for a wife.”

“Uh,” said Lisa blankly.

“Now, Ray,” said his wife in a commanding voice. “You get going. There’s plenty to get done, and there’s no time to waste.”

“That’s a fact.” Ray nodded and got up. “Eddie, you’re with me. Honey, we’ll likely miss supper. Don’t keep anything for us—we’ll grab a bite when we get back.”

While Mrs. Madison set a big kettle on the weird-looking stove, Bree went around the kitchen and pulled the blinds at the kitchen windows down. “You girls will want a little wash-up before you take your nap,” Mrs. Madison said briskly. “And let’s get your clothes washed right away. Take off your boots while the water is heating. Bree, bring some nightgowns and towels.”

Lisa looked around the kitchen. No refrigerator, no microwave, no dishwasher. It looked a lot like a kitchen in a pioneer museum. “Um…” Lisa didn’t want to be rude. “It’s so nice of you to take us in like this, but we don’t want to impose. If someone could take us to a hotel, we’ll be fine.”

Mrs. Madison shook her head. “That wouldn’t be safe for you at all. We’re perfectly happy to have you here.”

Carla was more direct. “I need to call my parents. They will be worried about me.”

The older woman shook her head. “I’m sorry. We have no phones.”

Carla’s large hazel eyes narrowed. “No phones? You’re not part of the cult from Odessa. Are you?”

Bree’s eyes peeped over the stack of towels she carried into the kitchen. She glanced at her mother as she set the pile down on the table. Mrs. Madison laughed gently. “No. They don’t quite approve of us down in Odessa, I’m afraid. No one has electric appliances or phones anymore, dear. Bree, get the basins. I think the ladies would like to soak their feet. I saw the way you were limping, both of you.”