asked. “Can you stay for supper?”
Rita smiled. “What’s for supper?”
He laughed. “Particular are you?”
“Always.”
He looked at her holstered pistol. “Have you had to use that yet?”
“Only once.”
The sound of a vehicle could be heard coming from the front of the house. Sarah soon walked onto the deck, smiled.
“I knew it was you.”
Rita stood to her feet and they hugged for a few seconds. She said. “You’ve put on a few pounds. You look healthier now.”
“My mother’s cooking. I see my dad found someone to sample his beer.”
“Its not beer. Its stout,” said Wally.
“I know, daddy.” She looked at Rita. “Want to go for a walk down by the lake?”
“Sure. Your dad asked me to stay for supper.”
“Good. We’re having fried chicken tonight. We stopped at a farm and picked up a few. They’re frozen except for one.”
“Chicken sounds good to me.”
Wally stood to his feet. “You two go for a walk, I’m going to help June unload the car.”
The two women walked slowly near the edge of the water, many migratory birds swam on the surface, dove under the water for a meal. It was a cloudless day, still warm but not like the July heat wave. It was a comfortable warm and they both enjoyed walking without a jacket.
“Everyone around here heard about what happened.”
Rita looked at the petite young woman. “I guess.”
“You were there, weren’t you?”
Rita nodded. “I was there. I killed some people.”
Sarah stopped walking, put her arms around Rita. They stayed like that for a while until Sarah said. “Are you feeling really bad about that?”
“I guess I am. They were mostly teenagers.”
“So? They would have killed you. And they wouldn’t be feeling bad about it either.”
“I know.”
They sat down on some rough prairie grass, stayed quiet, watched the scenery, the wildlife all around them. Watched two gophers playing, wrestling like little children.
“You find a boyfriend yet?” asked Rita.
“No. All the guys who joined Islam hightailed it out of here right after the thing in Assiniboia. One boy likes me. A man, not a boy.”
“You like him?”
“Not like that. He’s nice though. What about you, Rita, anyone you like?”
“I guess not.”
Sarah put her arm around her shoulder. “If I was man, I’d want you for my girlfriend.”
Rita laughed. “That’s nice to know.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“I was maybe thinking about joining the militia.”
“To do what?”
“I don’t know that either. Whatever they tell me to do I guess.”
Sarah leaned in and kissed Rita on the cheek, then on the lips. Rita kissed her back for a few seconds then pulled her face away.
“Why did do that?”
Sarah smiled. “You looked like you needed a kiss.”
“You often kiss women?”
“Sometimes.”
Rita smiled. Said nothing.
The two stayed silent for a few minutes then slowly got to their feet and walked back to the house where June Smith had chicken frying in the electric pan, potatoes, turnips and string beans boiling in pots on the stove and hot baking powder biscuits fresh from the oven. It was dark when Rita rode back to St. Victor. She was feeling better now. A little better anyway. If only the dreams weren’t there to remind her every night of what she did. She could hear the screams, see the blood. It ran in rivers. She usually woke up when she saw the blood.
Two weeks later Rita and Karen sat in on a meeting in the St. Victor community hall. A colonel from Moose Jaw was the guest speaker. He talked about how the country was divided now, pockets of resistance fighting the enemy all across the large country of Canada. Talked about the Western Militia. They were always looking for good people to join in the fight for freedom. He told the small group of people what he knew thus far. The oilfields in Alberta and Saskatchewan were safe and guarded by the militia. No oil was moving east anymore. Another refinery was planned for Regina, two more in Alberta. There were still problems in the cities, though help was arriving from different places even the United States. Ex military, ranchers, farmers, truck drivers, just about every kind of person who cared about being free. Men and women alike. None willing to live under the heel of Islam.
After the meeting was over the group stayed for cowboy coffee boiled over a fire pit out back of the hall. Rita chatted with some people she knew. Met Heather James, Tom’s wife. Rita thought she was pretty. They didn’t talk much. The guest speaker came walking over to where she and Karen stood together.
He looked at Rita. “Tom tells me good things about you. You didn’t sign up?”
Rita shook her head. “My sister needs me to help with the harvest and canning. Winter’s coming.”
The man’s name was Colonel Gilbert Knowles. He said. “Be a shame to lose your talents.”
“My talents? I’m a poker player.”
For a brief moment he was captivated by her beauty. Quickly recovered. “But I hear you’re more than just a poker player.”
Rita looked into his dark brown eyes. Tried to size him up. “Inside you said you are a colonel?”
He nodded. “Militia colonel.”
“How many real soldiers are joining up? Not people like me, but real soldiers.”
“More all the time. The Western Militia is now under the command of General Arnold. He’s a regular Army general. He’s working with the Provincial governments. In a few months we should be better equipped. Better organized. The training has already begun.”
“Equipped how?”
“The Governor of Montana is supplying us with weapons, advisors. Other states help too. Things in the U.S. are getting testy now. Not every state is liberal.”
Rita heard the cry of an eagle soaring above her head. She looked up and smiled. Thought of Joe Redbone. Wished he was here now. He always knew how to put things in perspective for her. She said. “Colonel, I need more time to think about this. I want to help, but I need some time.”
He smiled, looked at Karen. She was as attractive as her sister. He briefly wondered if they were twins. “How about you, Karen?”
She shook her head. “I’ll fight for my home here, but I can’t go off and join the militia.”
He looked at Rita again. “I have an office in Moose Jaw. Tom James knows where it is. If you change your mind you’ll find me there. Its at the air base.”
“We have the base?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“And the planes?”
“Yes. And the planes and the pilots. Not all of them but most of them.”
“But they’re only training airplanes aren’t they?”
“We’re adapting.