Tori gasped. “Aren’t they guarding the border?”
“We’re going to find out. A week there and back, easy, and that’s not counting us having to actually find something.”
“Then you won’t be back until after the New Year,” Sarah said. She sounded disappointed.
“Nope,” said Chris, and then looked up as Lena hip-butted the kitchen door with an armload of firewood. “Probably not.”
“Probably not what?” asked Lena.
“Chris and Peter won’t be here for New Year’s,” Tori said. “They may have to cross over into Wisconsin for supplies, if they can get across the border. It’s not fair they fight on Christmas Eve and now this.”
Lena did her usual eye-roll, but this time Alex agreed with her. Life hadn’t exactly been fair, in case Tori hadn’t noticed.
Chris said, “If you guys want something special, make a list. I can’t promise anything, but—”
“Real coffee,” Lena said. “Failing that, a one-way ticket out of here would be nice.”
“Here we go again,” said Sarah.
Alex was tired of that subject already. “I don’t understand, Chris. You said there are other towns, right? And there are the various groups of raiders you guys keep fighting, right? So why don’t we, I don’t know, organize? Or trade? Or maybe just share and share alike? That way, you guys don’t have to worry about getting shot all the time and you don’t have to travel as far.” She remembered the discussion she’d had with Tom about this. “What you’re doing is kind of inefficient.”
“She has a point,” said Jess. She didn’t look up from scrubbing potatoes.
Chris looked uncomfortable. “That’s really not my call.”
“Why not?” Alex persisted.
“Well, first off, we’d have to have something worth trading,” Sarah pointed out.
“We’ve got supplies. We’ve got tools and weapons and—”
“We’re not going to trade weapons or tools,” Chris said flatly. “That’s like handing them the keys to the front door.”
“Well, what about clothes?” Alex persisted. “Or soap or candles or lanterns or—”
“Or us,” Lena said. She dumped wood in a loud clatter. “How much you think I’m worth, Chris?”
Chris looked like he’d been slapped. “Lena, it’s not like—”
“Oh, bullshit. We’re your precious little baby-makers. So what do you think you can buy with me? I guess that depends on when the guy gets tired—”
“You know,” Jess interrupted, “we could do with more wood.”
“Right. I forgot. Your house, your rules,” Lena said, and banged out of the kitchen.
Tori broke the silence first. “More coffee, Chris?”
“No.” His cheeks were splashed with scarlet. He wouldn’t meet Alex’s eyes. “No, I probably shouldn’t.”
“It’s not what you think,” Chris said tightly.
“I don’t care,” she said, not daring to look at him. “It’s none of my business.”
He said nothing. Their sleigh swept past the village hall, where a knot of Rule men were marching a cluster of refugees inside, and then they were heading northeast down the approach road to the hospice. The forest closed in and echoed with the clop of horse hooves. Alex watched the snow fall, felt it melt on her cheeks like tears.
Chris cleared his throat. “Alex …”
“It doesn’t matter, Chris.”