The McClane Apocalypse: Book One (44 page)

“Jesus, is that what happened, Reagan?” he asks softly and steps closer to her. She doesn’t answer him; John doesn’t even think she hears him because she’s a million miles away. He reaches out and touches her arm. Her eyes snap up to his as she expertly knocks his arm away.

“What?” she asks hoarsely and clears her throat.

“Did someone come at you with a knife?” he asks. “Is that the reason for your sc...”

“No!” she blurts nervously. “I have stuff to do. We’ll do some more another time, ok?”

It’s strange that she is even asking him, and she’s asking in a polite voice. It throws him off track. Her tone is hushed, almost sweet.

“Uh, ok. Sure, we’ll work more later,” he agrees, even though that wasn’t the plan. Whether she intended it to be manipulative or not, it was effective in getting her way.

“I need to clean out two stalls before I help pick corn with the kids, so I gotta go, ok? But thanks for the tips,” she adds in a voice so kind that John is stupefied.

She turns to go, but John calls after her.

“Uh hey, boss? You might want to change that shirt. Just sayin’.” She stops in the doorframe where he catches up to her.

“What do you... oh!” Reagan realizes and blushes beautifully and then swears not so beautifully. “Shit!”

“That’s not how I’d describe them but ok,” he says and chucks her under the chin. Her mouth drops open at his vulgar praise.

“You dick! Why didn’t you tell me?” she barks at him in anger, the nice voice gone.

“What? Why the heck would I do that? And spoil the view?” he says on a laugh.

He squeezes past her, purposefully brushing his chest and stomach against hers. Yep, one last moment of pure Hell for him before he goes out to work. She blushes even deeper, and the feel of her through their thin, cotton shirts is calamitous to his frayed nerve endings. When he’s only an inch outside the open door, something hits it with a dull thud. Bet it was her shoe. He doesn’t care; it was worth it. He’s going to need a lot of hard work to calm down. Maybe so much hard work, it’ll tear out his stitches, but it was worth it.

He goes straight for the equipment shed where he finds Derek and Cory working with Doc on the steam engine for the Ford tractor. They are doing what they do quite frequently. Doc smokes his pipe while the others stand beside him, and they are all contemplating. Contemplating, contemplating, contemplating. John is contemplating Reagan’s perfect breasts.

“What’s up, guys?” he asks as he comes to stand by his brother.

“We have to get this PTO working again. It’s jammed up for some reason. We’re gonna need it come corn harvest. The corn picker needs to be hooked on to the wagon to pull the whole unit. The alternative is to pick thirty acres of field corn by hand,” Derek tells him.

“Uh, yeah, this needs to get fixed,” John says, and they all laugh.

They spend the next two hours elbow deep in tractor grease and finally get the stupid thing fixed. Then he takes the Ford and Derek takes the Allis Chalmers tractor, and they cut hay on the east pasture for the rest of the day. When it’s time to go in for chores, John feeds the beef cows and horses since Reagan’s not in the horse barn. He tops off the chicken’s water trough. Kelly comes out of the dairy barn, and they sprint for the house, turning it into a competition. By the time they reach the back porch they are shoving and pushing and laughing. Derek comes late with Justin, who carries the cream, and Cory, who carries the milk. John likes to see the kids pitching in and helping. They all split for the bathrooms to clean up, and John goes to the mudroom where the laundry is done. It has the biggest, stainless steel sink, and he’s particularly filthy.

When he gets there, Reagan is already washing up. She normally gets as dirty as the men and the kids, who spend every day outside playing in dirt. She doesn’t see or hear him enter, so he has the advantage of watching her while she is semi-still. It’s a rare moment for her. She’s wearing a black t-shirt that says on the back: OSU Med Center in white lettering. It reminds him that her life had been so different before everything changed. John’s life hadn’t actually changed much. War, fighting, battles, more war, fighting, battles and now a different kind of war and fighting and home-front battles.

He stands next to her at the big sink and slathers his hands in the strange yellow soap that takes off grease, grime, animal dirt and maybe even down to the second or third layer of skin. Arianna flings herself onto his leg, catching him off guard. He laughs and looks down at her.

“Hey, munchkin. What are you up to?” he asks as she smiles up at him with her baby teeth.

“Momma says I need to wash myself,” she tells him with a pout.

“Well, I’d say she’s right about that. Did you leave any dirt outside, kiddo?” he asks playfully.

“Uncle John!” she giggles.

“Here, let me help you. You’re about as big as your aunt over here,” he says and picks her up so that she can lather her dirt-caked hands. She doesn’t do a very good job, so he helps her along. He laughs again because he thinks maybe her hands are as dirty as his. There’s ground-in dirt under her fingernails, but he can’t seem to get it to come out. Oh well, that’ll be for Sue to deal with later. A little dirt with dinner never hurt anyone.

“I wonder if I should hold up your Aunt Reagan, too. It’s a miracle she can reach the sink,” his joke makes Ari giggle from her belly. Reagan punches him in his good shoulder, splashing water over both of them and Ari.

“Hey!” John shouts, and Ari just laughs more.

“Serves him right, huh, Ari?” Reagan conspires with her minion.

“Yah! Serves you right, Uncle John!” she squeals with delight.

“Oh man, you little people McNuggets are ganging up on me!” he jokes.

“You’re a people McGugget, Uncle John!” the wiggler screams in delight as she misspeaks.

“Me? I’m six one, munchkin. I don’t think I’m a wee widdles like you and Aunt Reagan,” he tells her as they rinse off. Reagan’s slippery, wet hands brush his under the water, and it has a decidedly sensual feel. She pulls her hands back to wait for them to finish. She’d felt it, too; he just knows it.

“You’re six one? I knew you were kind of tall, but that’s really tall. That means you are almost a whole foot taller than me? That’s ridiculous,” she complains as if it’s a personal affront against her.

“Yep, a jolly, green giant compared to you two,” he says, making Ari screech at him and start into a rant.

“Hey, just ‘cuz we’re girls and we’re smaller than you doesn’t mean we’re not as tough as you, Uncle John,” she scolds. Man, does she sound like Reagan when she gets feisty.

As he sets her on the ground, he tickles her ribs, earning him riotous giggles.

“Tough, huh? You’re not so tough now, are you?” he asks as he continues to tickle her.

“Oh, now you’re just bullying,” Reagan says and punches his arm again.

“Oh? You want some of this?” he asks friskily. He grabs her from behind without thinking and tickles her ribs.

“Stop,” she pants. “Stop it, you idiot.” This time she laughs. She actually gives in and laughs. It’s the first time he’s ever heard it. Her laughter is as rotten as her. It’s guttural and ornery, just like Ari’s.

Arianna, being the sly nymph she is, takes the opportunity to jump on his back, and Reagan uses her newfound expertise in getting free and slices his arm. She spins and sucker punches him lightly in the stomach, which hardly affects him. It probably hurt her hand. Ari has her mouth pressed to his neck and is blowing raspberries there, which makes her laugh harder. She really thinks she’s got him, but mostly she’s just getting his neck all wet. He swiftly swings her over his head and lands her on her feet in front of him.

“Again, again!” she squeals, so he repeats the process in reverse and then down again.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you. You’re next, boss,” he warns.

“Like hell I am,” she swears and he reprimands her with his eyes. Such a sailor mouth. But she does have the faintest linger of a smile on her full lips.

“I like your smile,” he complements as he swings Ari up one more time and then down. The little girl’s laughter is infectious. Even Reagan doesn’t seem quite so immune to it. But she manages to give him a lopsided frown. It’s still better than the full monty. She looks at her feet uncomfortably.

“Hey in there, are you guys comin’ or what?” Sue calls from the hall. Ari runs for her mother, leaving John and Reagan alone in the mudroom at the back of the house.

She nervously crosses her arms and fidgets. John’s blocking her exit with his body.

“We should go,” she murmurs. Her toe taps and her eyes dart around, refusing to settle on him.

“I meant what I said. I like your smile. It’s very beautiful, just like you,” he says stupefied by her. Geez, he sounds like a love-smitten teen with his first crush. Coincidentally, that’s how Reagan makes him feel.

“Save it, Romeo. I’m not one of your forty-eight hour leave bimbos,” she says and cocks her head to the side.

“I would never think something like that about you, Reagan. Don’t you know me at all by now?” he asks her, insulted by her implication. She just shrugs indifferently.

“You seriously don’t think I could’ve seduced you by now if that’s all I was interested in?” he asks seriously.

“No! I don’t actually. Your confidence is ridiculous,” Reagan remarks snidely. She doesn’t sound convinced.

“Really? Is that a challenge, boss?” he drawls sensually. He takes a step closer to her and pushes a stray curl back from her forehead. “I’m a Ranger, you know. We never back down from a challenge.”

Her eyebrows rise in heightened awareness of him. He takes another step toward her, and she backs up, bumping the sink. John puts his hands on either side of the sink beside her, leaning down. She’s trapped, and she knows it. He can see the tops of her breasts rising and falling quickly above the vee of her shirt front.

“See? Nothing,” she swallows hard. “I’m not bothered by you in the least.” Her voice rises in pitch.

“You sure about that?” he murmurs. He leans further into her and decides to try and kiss her, though anyone could walk in at any moment. He’s technically not touching her yet. But she reads his tell and looks sideways. John’s intended kiss lands in her hair and a piece of her neck below her ear. Man, does she smell good.

“Are you done?” she asks breathily.

“Not bothered my eye, boss,” he says into her ear. She shivers delightfully against his lips, and he notices goose-bumps on her forearm.

“Although I’d like to have you all to myself for forty-eight hours, you’re not a one night stand to me,” he jests with her, steps back, and she rolls her eyes.

“Guys!” comes Sue’s shout again, this time more impatiently.

“We’ll discuss this later,” he tells her and turns to the side so that she can pass. She does so without touching him, without even her clothing brushing his. Reagan is barefoot, so her head barely reaches his chest. He’d like to crush her to him, to touch her everywhere, but he doesn’t.

Once the family is seated and the prayer is said, Doc leads off the conversation.

“Ok, so next week John and Reagan will go to the city. We’ll need each person to think of anything they might need so that it can be procured if possible. Make a list,” Doc says.

“Oh, we forgot to tell you, but Grams and I found some more clothes for the men. They were in storage totes. Some stuff from Dad and a few things from our brother,” Sue explains.

“That’s good. Never thought I’d worry about what I wore before I ran out of stuff. Now I feel like a bum,” John interjects.

“If the shoe fits,” Reagan says quietly. He frowns at her, and she goes back to her bread.

“Well, it’s not much, but you and Kelly and Cory can go through them,” Grams adds kindly. John is eating a giant bowl of chili with grated cheese made from the cows on the farm. It’s amazing what these women can do on this farm. His appetite is voracious as it is most days from so much back-breaking work. But there’s always plenty to eat.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Kelly offers.

“Don’t get too excited, Kelly. The most you might be able to use are a few of the shirts. Definitely not the pants,” Sue says with a chuckle.

“The Johnson’s had a son about your size Kelly. Maybe you boys could go over there and see if anything got left behind. Might be a good idea anyway to make a trip down the road. Check things out,” Doc adds.

“Yeah, we can make a run tomorrow after morning chores,” John says. “Me and Derek will go, and Kelly can stay here with Cory to watch the place.”

“I’ll go, too,” Reagan perks up.

“We don’t need you, boss,” John corrects her quickly.

“Yeah? How you gonna find your way around, genius?” she asks snidely.

“Reagan,” Grams warns.

“If you think it’s safe to take her, then Reagan could go with you, too,” Doc suggests.

“And I think we should see if we can salvage parts somewhere to get the Hummer running again. It’s the best defensive vehicle we have,” Derek remarks. He’s obviously alright with Reagan going because he doesn’t argue. It angers John. He doesn’t like her being off the farm, out in danger.

“That’s a good idea, Derek,” Doc agrees. “If anything is left over at the Johnson place we should take what we can put to use here. It seems wrong, but, according to the Wayne Reynolds, many of the families around the county have fled. Whatever they’ve left, they won’t be coming back for.”

“I agree,” Kelly speaks up. “That’s just the way it is now. Besides, it’s not like we’re breaking in and stealing from people living there like that gang tried on the Reynolds family.”

“Exactly. Ryan Johnson and his family were friends of ours, as well. He’d understand. He was the sort of man who would help out whenever you asked. I’d do the same for them if they’d stuck around and needed help,” Doc explains.

“There’s also a scattering of homes on small plots of land out on the main road, more like the suburbs. Fancy, big homes. Rich city people who moved out here and bought five acre plots to feel like farmers. Some of those homes could be abandoned, too,” Sue informs the men.

“Yes, but that could be dangerous,” Derek says.