Light of Dawn Read online

  “We would have heard.”

  “Maybe, if it was somewhere close. But we’re going to Kansas. That takes us past Dallas and Oklahoma City. No telling what we’ll learn.”

  “It’ll be nice to be anywhere but here,” Lanh admitted.

  “Really?” Carter had been squatting in front of the shelves, but he dropped onto the floor, crossed his legs Indian style, and studied his friend. “I thought you were the new Asian cowboy, totally into this whole live-off-the-grid scene.”

  “Yeah. I like it. Plus, I’m good with horses.”

  He was good with horses. Who would have figured that, since he’d never been within a hundred feet of one before the flare? He had become a sort of veterinarian apprentice. A vet tech in the new age of no tech. Which was why he hadn’t been around when Patrick and Bianca had first shown up. He’d left before dawn to walk to Jerry Lambert’s place so he could help with a foaling. The mare had done well, and the foal was healthy. Society might fall apart around them, but nature plodded on.

  “So you love it here, but you want to leave.”

  Lanh shrugged. “You appreciate a place more if you get away now and then. And who knows? Maybe we’ll meet some girls.”

  “Thought you’d already found one.”

  “Yeah, so did I.”

  “Monica is working through some stuff. Give her time.”

  Lanh shook his head. “Hopefully we can be friends someday, but we’ll never be more than that. We just weren’t…right for each other.”

  “I guess.”

  They finished combing through the supplies and carried their packs down the hall to the room they would be sharing. Lanh had lived in the house since moving to High Fields, but Carter had stayed in the cottage with his mom. Tonight, it would apparently become the honeymoon suite.

  “Boys, great. You appear just when I need help.” Georgia pushed two stuffed bags into their arms. No one else called them boys, but coming from Georgia it sounded like a compliment.

  “What is this stuff?” Carter asked.

  “Take it over to your mom. She’s helping Bianca get ready.”

  Georgia hurried back into the kitchen, muttering something about wedding cake.

  “No way she can come up with a cake,” Lanh said. “When was the last time we had sugar?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past her.” Carter opened his bag. It was filled with candles. More candles than he knew they had. “Why would Patrick and Bianca need these?”

  “Adults, dude. They’re not to be understood.”

  They hustled across the yard to the cottage. The wind had turned from the north, which no doubt meant rain. Temperatures were dropping too. Carter hoped it wasn’t a true blue norther. Surely, March was too late for that.

  Lanh banged on the door.

  Carter’s mom opened it, but she didn’t let them in. “Thank you. Would you see if you could help Patrick and Max in the barn?”

  So they tromped over to the barn and helped arrange a ragtag collection of chairs and benches into a semicircle. Everyone was laughing and joking and teasing Patrick, who seemed to be enjoying every minute of it. But when they were finished sweeping and swiping at cobwebs, Patrick pulled the two of them aside.

  “I appreciate your offering to go—”

  “Don’t say it.” Carter looked him directly in the eye. He’d known Patrick for practically all of his life, and he could feel what was coming.

  “Yeah, we’re going,” Lanh said. “After all, we’re the next generation. We need to know what’s out there.”

  “I know you do. The thing is, I didn’t want to alarm Georgia and Roy with the details, but it’s pretty grim.”

  Lanh stuck his thumbs in his pockets. “I was in Austin, remember? I’ve seen grim.”

  “Yeah, you saw bodies stacked on the side of the road and hoodlums taking over neighborhoods.” Patrick ran a hand over his face and glanced up at the rafters of the barn before returning his gaze to them. “All the petty thieves—they’re gone. Killed. The people who weren’t quick enough to respond? Also killed. What’s left are the hardened criminals who will do anything…”

  “They’ll want our food and supplies,” Carter said. “I get it. We’re both good shots.”

  Georgia hustled into the barn carrying a basketful of fabric.

  Patrick jerked his head to the left, and they all trooped back near the horse stalls. “They want more than our food or supplies. Some of these people will kill you because they’re bored, or because you refuse to join their clan. You’re either with them, or you’re a threat. If you’re a threat, you need to die. If you’re not a threat, then you don’t deserve to live.”

  “Why are you telling us this?” Carter asked.

  “To ease my own conscience, I guess. You’ll be a big help. Both of you will. Going out in twos? That’s foolishness because someone has to be on guard all the time. Together we make a group of seven, and that’s better. I just want you to know how bad things are. To be prepared for it.”

  Patrick waited a moment, but when neither Carter nor Lanh replied, he turned to go.

  Lanh called after him. “What about the Remnant?”

  For his answer, Patrick shrugged and walked away.

  FIVE

  Shelby and Bianca had been holed up in the cottage for most of the afternoon. They’d placed Georgia’s candles all around the small living room, the bathroom, and the bedroom. The other bag had held a variety of items, including some lace, a disposable razor, lotion, and shampoo.

  “Real shampoo.” Bianca opened the top of the travel-sized bottle and took a deep breath. Then she pushed it under Shelby’s nose. “Smell it.”

  “Honeysuckle.”

  “Where did she find this stuff?”

  “There’s no end to the things that Georgia can find. She goes beyond resourceful. She’s amazing.”

  “Tell me about Carter. He looks…different.”

  Shelby had been pulling items from the bag, but she stopped and plopped onto the couch next to her best friend. “That day in July, when we returned from Austin, Roy met me at the door and told me that Carter had been in an accident. He looked terrified. Even Georgia was rattled.”

  Bianca moved closer so they were sitting on the couch and staring into an empty fireplace, their shoulders touching.

  “He’d broken his leg badly and fallen into the river—so there was some hypothermia. His blood sugar levels were all over the place. It took five days to stabilize him.”

  “You must have been in a panic.”

  “I was. After all we’d been through, I thought I was going to lose him from a broken leg. Meanwhile, Max, Roy, and every other able-bodied person were dealing with the Cavanaghs.”

  “Cavanaghs?” Bianca scooted back into the corner of the couch, pulled her knees up into the circle of her arms, and waited.

  “Some losers on the far side of the creek. They’d been stealing from the families on this side for a week or so. We hadn’t figured out who it was, but Carter…he’d heard them talking. If he’d been seen by them, they would have killed him.”

  “They were that bad?”

  “Worse. We’d hoped when we showed up in force that they would leave, but they’d taken over the farmhouse on the far side.” Shelby pulled in a deep breath and attempted to explain what had happened with as few details as possible. “The fighting lasted nearly a week. We lost…too many.”

  “And Carter?”

  “He healed. Somehow he healed. Not even a limp, but something happened to his metabolism…”

  “He’s painfully thin.”

  “We feed him everything we can spare, which he doesn’t want to take. Jerry Lambert—”

  “The vet.”

  “Yeah. He thinks that the infection was so deep that his body had to use all of its resources to fight. He says to give Carter time.”

  “I’m surprised you want him to go with us.”

  “I don’t know that I want him to, but Carter…he’s differen
t now. He’s not a child anymore, and he deserves to be able to make his own decisions.”

  “And the insulin supply?”

  “We had to use more than we’d planned when he was sick. What’s left should last us through mid-June, barring any other problems.”

  “Three months.”

  “Yeah.”

  “We’ll find more. Somewhere between here and Kansas, there has to be more.”

  They sat there for a moment, thinking of what might lie ahead of them and all that had occurred since they’d parted in July.

  “I’m sorry about your mom, Bianca. She was always kind to me.”

  “We’ve all lost someone. You lost your parents long before the grid went down. Carter lost Kaitlyn. Georgia and Roy have lost neighbors and friends. We’re living in a time of loss. Of grief.”

  “Tonight we’re not.” Shelby stood and then pulled Bianca to her feet. “Tonight we’re having a wedding.”

  They spent the next three hours preparing Bianca to be a bride.

  She took a long, hot bath in the tub, though they’d stopped using the limited propane supply for baths months before. Shelby heated water on the woodstove in the living room. They both laughed as she poured it into the tub, mixing it with the two inches of cold water and adding a splash of bubbles. When she had the bath half full, Bianca slipped into the old claw-foot tub and sighed.

  “A bubble bath. I didn’t think I’d be having one of these anytime soon.”

  “It’s your wedding day. I want it to be memorable.”

  Bianca opened one eye. “Memorable. Yeah, I think we have that covered.”

  Shelby walked over to the wedding dress, which was draped on a satin hanger they had hooked over the shower door. She shook out the dress, which was unnecessary. The steam from Bianca’s bath was already doing its work, the wrinkles in the fabric practically disappearing before her eyes. Plopping onto the floor, her back against the wall, she confessed, “I always dreamed of a lavish wedding—a string quartet, fountain of champagne, and a wedding cake decorated with fresh flowers.”

  “And the groom? I assume there was a groom in this daydream.”

  “That part was always a little fuzzy for me.” Shelby ran a thumb nail along the grout that separated the pink tiles. The floor must have been laid in the fifties when the cottage was built, when pink tiles were the rage.

  “Tell me about you and Max.”

  “What’s there to tell?”

  “So you’re still dancing around your feelings…”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t lie to me, hermana. I know you.”

  “Like a sister,” Shelby whispered.

  “Yes. You are like family.” Bianca raised a bubble-covered foot and pointed her toes at Shelby. “But we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

  “Thank you.”

  “What do you want to talk about then?”

  “Your pedicure.” Shelby jumped up and pulled out a drawer in the bottom of the bathroom vanity. “What color do you want?”

  “Red.”

  “Red?”

  “Yeah, red. The color of love.”

  SIX

  Georgia had placed lanterns around the barn.

  Jerry Lambert showed up a few minutes before sunset. In addition to being a retired veterinarian, he was licensed to perform weddings. “It was my sister’s idea. We filled out one of those online forms.”

  Shelby thought it was a perfect though small assembly—Roy and Georgia, Lanh and Carter, her and Max, Patrick and Bianca, and Jerry.

  Max had set the benches and chairs up at one end of the barn.

  There was little doubt that Georgia had been in charge of the decorating. Ribbon that Shelby was sure she’d seen at Christmas had been twisted and hung from the hayloft. A table to the side was covered with Georgia’s lace tablecloth—something they used on the first Sunday of every month when they had their celebration dinner—an extravagance that Shelby found herself looking forward to more than she would have thought possible.

  “Celebrating life is important,” Georgia had explained that first month. “It’s too easy to take what we have for granted and to focus on what is lacking.”

  “Give thanks to the Lord,” Roy had echoed.

  And so it was that every month each member of their group looked for a special treat to squirrel away—a bar of chocolate someone had given Lanh when he tended to their lame horse, beef jerky Max had seasoned with honey and garlic, wild onions Roy had found by the creek. The meals rarely made sense nutritionally speaking, but they always lifted their spirits.

  Tonight the table was covered with lace. Georgia had managed to rustle up a single layer sheet cake, baked in the outdoor oven Roy had rigged up. It was sweetened with honey instead of sugar, but it was a luxury nonetheless. Someone had pulled early blooming bluebonnets from the field and placed them in bowls on both sides of the cake.

  Georgia’s company dishes—a white pattern with light pink flowers—and good silver were stacked at the end of the table.

  Everyone had cleaned up. Carter had managed to wrestle down his cowlick, Lanh had changed out of the hoodie he constantly wore, and Max had donned a freshly starched shirt.

  “Your mother did that for you?”

  “What?”

  “Ironed your shirt. You realize she had to use that antique cast iron that weighs about eight pounds.”

  “She’s old fashioned like that.”

  “I have no idea how she had the time.”

  “To iron a shirt?”

  “To do all of this.”

  Georgia hurried to the front of the room, handed Jerry their family Bible, and then sat down in the front row. She was wearing a dress Shelby hadn’t seen before, a soft blue knit that fell to her ankles.

  Max nudged her shoulder and cocked his head toward the open door. “Would you look at that.”

  Shelby turned and saw Bianca crossing from the cottage to the barn, holding up her dress so that it wouldn’t drag in the dirt. She’d insisted on spending the last thirty minutes alone “to pray and think about my parents.” The last of the day’s light spilled across the fields, catching the pearls on her dress and the shine in her hair.

  Roy stood by the door, dressed in his Sunday suit, complete with black tie. He offered Bianca his arm, and that act of kindness caused tears to sting Shelby’s eyes.

  “You’re crying already?”

  “I’m not crying.”

  “It hasn’t even started yet.” Max snagged her hand and pulled her toward one of the benches, but they all remained standing as Bianca entered the room.

  She wore her mother’s dress that she’d brought from home. The fabric was aged, and the style was from a bygone time—floor-length, tulle with an A-line design and a princess V-neck. Appliqued lace adorned the shoulders, hips, and hem. Shelby had braided a two-foot length of light blue lace through Bianca’s long, black hair that was twisted and piled on top of her head. It wasn’t a veil, but it would have to do.

  The bouquet she held was more bluebonnets, tied together with the remainder of the lace.

  Patrick wore clean jeans, a western shirt, and a look of pure adoration.

  Jerry opened with the simplest of prayers, asking for God’s provision, protection, and grace. Then he asked, “Who gives this woman to be married?”

  “I do,” Roy said, his voice deep and steady as he guided Bianca’s hand to the crook of Patrick’s arm.

  “We have gathered in this place tonight to join Patrick Goodnight and Bianca Lopez in holy matrimony.” Jerry peered over the top of his reading glasses. “Are we ready?”

  “We are,” they both murmured.

  Patrick and Bianca turned toward one another, and then Bianca realized she was still holding the flowers and there was no flower girl. She laughed and held them up as if to say, Who wants these? Georgia darted forward and took them, saying, “I’ll press these for you later.” Patrick clasped Bia
nca’s hands in his.

  “Do you, Patrick, take Bianca to be your wife, to have and hold from this day on, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?”

  “I do.”

  “And do you, Bianca, take Patrick to be your husband, to have and hold from this day on, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?”

  “Sí. I do.”

  Max reached into his pocket, pulled out a handkerchief, and passed it to Shelby. She didn’t bother to deny the tears streaming down her face.

  “God has promised to never leave you, to follow you. For where you go, he will go, and where you remain, he will remain.” Jerry opened the Bible, adjusted his glasses, and said, “The book of First Corinthians, chapter thirteen reminds us of the nature of love. I encourage you both to read it in the days ahead, to commit those words to memory, to let them sink into your heart.”

  “We will,” they said.

  Jerry looked down and read, “And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.”

  Those words seemed to sink into Shelby’s bones. So little remained of what had been. Yet this group—every single person here—loved one another. She tried to fill her heart with that thought. To banish the doubt and fear, and focus, if only for a moment, on that one truth.

  There was only one ring, the wedding ring Bianca’s father had given her mother. Patrick slid it onto her finger as she gazed up into his eyes.

  Then Jerry raised his hands and said, “Forasmuch as Bianca and Patrick have consented together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company of witnesses, and have given their pledge, each to the other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving a ring, by the power vested in me by the State of Texas, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”