Chapter 108: The Bear Thought Her Bad Idea Was Excellent

The driver showed Dove the low bridge on the map. The bridge itself remained standing, but the road leading onto it had crumbled along one side. Above that damaged stretch stood an old auto shop. Its back driveway climbed through the trees and joined the road farther uphill.

"So we go around the broken bit," Dove said. "You could’ve started with that before suggesting we abandon dinner." The driver admitted he hadn’t known whether the carts would fit.

They slept in the feed store’s empty office rather than testing it in fading light. Thorne and Dove shared their blankets behind the desk; Edrik took the floor near the door. The organizer and his workers stayed in the front sales room with their own cart visible through the windows. Dove checked the single ground-floor exit before settling. If they needed to leave, she wanted their boots beside that door, not lost beneath somebody else’s blankets.

Before breakfast on Day Forty-Eight, Dove sat beside Thorne and visited her space in her mind. She brought out pond water, opened her eyes in the same chair, and filled her basin to wash. Sprout’s delivery held eight big bags of jelly beans. Six needed buyers. She looked at the remaining two with immediate plans, then noticed the padded travel seat on the reward shelf. Apparently she was meant to have choices this morning.

"Candy and somewhere to put my ass," she told it. "You’re finally speaking my language."

Thorne looked over from the eggs and tortillas he was warming. Dove kissed his cheek instead of explaining, earning a pleased rumble that made breakfast take longer than necessary.

At the service shop, Edrik left the cart on dry ground behind a low concrete wall. The flooded crossing lay fifty yards downhill. Dove could see where its shoulder had fallen away, leaving dark water under a strip of broken asphalt. Nobody needed to walk onto that to understand the problem.

The shop’s front repair bay stood open. Old steel ramps lay along one wall, and a heavy winch remained bolted beside the concrete apron. Beyond it, a narrow service drive curved uphill through the trees before meeting the road again.

"That," Dove said, pointing. "Can we get the carts there?"

Edrik checked the slope, then the ramp ends. "If the frames hold and we move one load at a time. Not with you riding on top."

"I was thinking more queen supervising from somewhere dry."

"That part suits you." His smile widened when she started examining the loose cans in their crate. "You’re going to make it lighter."

"I’m making it manageable. If I pass out, you get to carry me too. Terrible planning."

Could Sprout tell her how much would exhaust her? It could warn her, not promise a safe load. She touched and stored two cans, waited, then took two more while her head stayed clear.

Thorne dragged the steel ramps outside and straightened their bent ends so the wheels could reach the shop’s raised driveway. Edrik kept his hand on the weaker ramp, strengthening it while the workers pushed their load up. Dove stayed beside the driveway with the bags she had removed, calling a warning when a loose rope caught beneath a wheel.

Once both carts were on the higher ground, the damaged bridge was behind them. Nobody had to cross the flooded ditch, and nothing had been left beside the road.

"There," she said, putting her hands on her hips. "All that drama, and we still have lunch."

Thorne bent to kiss her before sitting on the low wall. Edrik released the ramp and rubbed his forearm. Their powers made the job possible; they still looked like two men who had earned food and a break.

Dove brought Thorne a chicken sandwich with cheese and sliced apples. Edrik received two, because she had seen what holding that loaded ramp cost him. Neither man was skipping lunch to do more work.

The organizer thanked them and marked the next safe turn on Dove’s map. His crew wanted to press on to a supply stop beyond the junction, but she wasn’t making her men haul another cart before they’d finished eating. He allowed four days for delivery. She said they’d catch up, then sat on the wall between Thorne and Edrik with her own sandwich.

Before leaving, the organizer and his workers bought six candy bags with canned fish, clean socks, and a sound pocket flashlight. Dove paid eight Favor for the remaining two. Sprout settled the rewards while she checked the flashlight and divided their candy. After getting the carts across, she intended to sit beside her men and eat something that didn’t require cooking.

She stored the three new trades, then put a few jelly beans in each man’s palm. Edrik studied his like she’d handed him something more interesting than sugar.

"It’s a jelly bean, Edrik. You don’t have to interrogate it first."

He ate one while watching her. "I prefer chocolate."

Dove laughed and took a red one. For a few minutes, she could enjoy lunch without watching the road.

Edrik sat beside her on the concrete wall, rolling a tired shoulder. Dove brushed dust off his sleeve and gave him a suspicious look. "Before you start, I remember that scratch was fine. Are you actually tired, or would you like me to fuss over you?" He glanced at Thorne, then back at her, looking far too pleased with his options.

"Both," he said. "Holding that ramp took more out of me than I expected." Dove nudged the sandwich closer. "Then eat. I’ll admire you while you chew." He picked it up, still watching her, and she found herself smoothing his sleeve again before realizing she’d done it.

"You can ask me to sit with you without pretending anything hurts," she told him. Edrik looked down at the hand she’d left on his sleeve. "I’ll remember that." She made herself leave it there when he smiled. "Try asking before I’m halfway across a parking lot next time."

Thorne stole a jelly bean from her pocket while she sat beside Edrik. Dove slapped his hand, then gave him another. They could have a few quiet minutes before the next damn problem.

Inside the empty public workshop, she recovered a mop and sealed paper towels. The gloves were waterlogged, so she left them. Edrik carried the mop back to the cart, and Dove stored the towels before checking the office for a dry place to sleep. Personal papers stayed on the desk.

A locked storage area stood beyond the office. Through its wire-glass window she could see folding chairs, a portable washstand, and stacked shelves of household supplies. Behind the building, through another window, she spotted the nose of a red pickup under a roof. The tires weren’t buried in snow, and nobody had stripped its doors off. Suddenly the folding chairs looked a lot less exciting.

Dove reached toward the latch, then stopped. Fresh blue paint marked the door, still glossy around the edges. Someone had claimed this room recently enough to leave fingerprints beside the lock.