Chapter 146: She Charged Extra for Getting Wet

Dove waited until the crew leader finished his call before holding out the map. He wore a stained work vest and the tired expression of a man answering the same question from six shopkeepers. She gave him a better question before he could mistake her for a seventh.

"If that yard still has a pump, what exactly do you need? I don’t want to bring back something expensive-looking that doesn’t fit."

He studied the marked shed, then wrote down the unit type, fittings, hose size, and fuel requirement. His crew needed equipment for muddy water, not a little clean-water pump somebody used on a garden fountain. Dove made him draw the hose connection beside the words. He also showed her the damaged fitting from his own crew’s kit, so she could compare the shape without guessing.

She asked whether somebody could go with them, but his workers were needed at the broken line. She borrowed the sample, wrapped it in a cloth, and wrote it beside the return list. Finding equipment was much easier when somebody explained what they were looking for before she left.

Thorne watched from her side while Edrik checked the posted road closure. The maintenance yard had been released for equipment recovery after its staff moved to the base. The crew leader gave her the recovery slip, naming the shed and the payment his office could approve if the pump worked.

They agreed on trade credit, not a promise that she could ask for a favor someday. Testing came before payment. Dove could keep loose surplus goods listed for salvage, but anything still marked as active crew equipment stayed there unless the slip covered it.

"And I’m not coming back soaked because somebody forgot to mention the road’s gone," she added.

The worker pointed to the raised access road. A crew had used it that morning. The lower yard was wet; the shed entrance remained dry. Dove asked when they had left, wrote the time down, and accepted the job after both men checked the route.

Sprout put it beneath her Local Salvage Leads. Sixty normal coins would pay for recovering and delivering the specified working pump, once verified by the crew. No reward for an empty casing or an impressive story about almost finding it.

"Does finding the right model count if it won’t start?" she asked. Sprout said the crew had to confirm it worked. "Fine. No points for bringing home a very heavy disappointment."

"Clear conditions reduce disappointment."

"Tell that to the people who advertise pockets on women’s pants."

Edrik looked at her face and smiled. She told him Sprout was feeling helpful, which worried all three of them for different reasons.

Day Seventy-Six had begun with her pond-water wash and a breakfast large enough that neither man could complain about leaving hungry. Four family bottles of dish soap sold before they shut the shop, clearing the thirty-nine-normal sales goal. The buyers paid in dry food and towels; Dove stored the towels, with more road finds still needed once they traveled. The twelve-Favor target and exercise task stayed open until earned.

She posted a return time with room for a delay, then told the restaurant worker next door where they were going. That wasn’t asking permission. It meant somebody would know where to start looking if they didn’t come back. Edrik approved so quietly she only noticed when his hand brushed hers.

Edrik drove the raised road with both handcarts secured in the pickup bed. They would need them between the shed and the road, where the truck couldn’t turn. Dove kept the equipment drawing beside her, glad they had room for the pump if they found it.

At the yard, the chain-link gate stood open under the recovery notice. Two low workshops faced a gravel square. The dry service shed stood to the right on a concrete pad, while water covered the left workshop’s doorway. Their access road ran uphill behind the dry building. Dove could picture leaving before she started imagining what she might find.

Dove waited with Edrik at the entrance while Thorne checked behind the shed, then followed them inside once they had checked the room. The building smelled of oil and damp cardboard. Pumps, hose reels, and bins of fittings sat on metal shelves, most with old maintenance labels tied to their handles.

Dove matched the drawing rather than picking the largest machine. The right pump sat on a low wheeled frame beside two coils of hose. Its service tag listed a test before the crews moved, but that wasn’t proof it would start today. She checked the identification with Edrik and left it for the maintenance crew’s proper test at the base.

"That one," she said, relieved to have something more useful than a guess.

Edrik tried the handle. "Heavy. We move it on the trolley."

"I wasn’t planning to store the whole thing and pass out on you."

Thorne looked at her. "You considered it."

"Briefly. Then I remembered being carried while unconscious is much less fun than choosing the position."

His grin arrived immediately. Edrik shook his head, but Dove caught the smile he tried to hide while checking the trolley wheel. Sprout counted the reactions quietly. She would rather earn amusement while solving a problem than pretend every flirt was a chore it had assigned.

They recovered the matching fittings and hoses, then searched the marked surplus bins. Work gloves, sealed rags, spare clamps, and clean utility buckets came out in small loads. Dove stored three by touch, cleared the road task, and kept checking until the dry shelves held only broken or restricted equipment.

Her husbands moved the pump toward the side door, then stopped. From there, the shortest route crossed the lower gravel square before joining the access road. Brown water now covered that square, deep enough to hide the edge of a drain. The trolley’s small wheels would never stay steady beneath a load that heavy.

Dove stepped back beside Thorne and looked toward the high doorway behind them. They had the right machine and the right fittings. Getting it out meant choosing the slower route before the water chose for them.