"It's rather amusing, watching the young children at play. Already our son Jacob seems to have his eye on the prettiest girl in school, young Annabelle. She's a blonde-haired, blue-eyed little angel, with all the boys quite wrapped around her finger. How sad that she's an orphan, both parents having died in an outbreak of typhoid fever. She's a ward of the church, and I suspect the Reverend Mother plans to groom her for the convent. I imagine a trail of broken hearts will lie in her wake, should that happen..."--excerpt from the private journal of Ephraim Barton
Smoky Hills Part 9
The Morning Mist
Heero was awake before sunrise, as usual, and didn't even bother trying to doze back off. Instead, he rolled out of bed and padded silently down the hall to the bathroom, pausing at Trowa's door to peek in on his sleeping friend.
The auburn hair stuck out from under a thick quilt, and a soft snoring reassured Heero his patient was resting comfortably.
He didn't bother leaving a note--Trowa would know he'd gone running when he realized the dogs were missing--assuming he even woke up before they got back.
"Hey boys," he greeted the two dogs, who were curled up on the hearth rug, side by side. "Wanna go out?"
Thor was up at once, yawning and stretching, while Balder thumped his tail on the floor, waiting for Heero to pause and scratch his scruffy ears.
"C'mon lazy bones. Let's go. You can have breakfast when we get back."
Heero grabbed a windbreaker off the rack he'd installed by the back door, and whistled for the dogs, hearing the click of their nails on wood just before they bounded past him and out the door.
"Stick with me!" he cautioned, heading down the footpath behind them.
While he hadn't kept up with his habit of running every morning since they'd arrived at the farm, he still tried to keep up some sort of routine. He hoped that once most of the major work was done, he could increase his daily workout back to his former regimen.
The morning air was chilly since the abnormal hot spell had ended, and it was a welcomed "slap in the face" that made Heero eager to get moving and warm up. So after a cursory stretch, he set out at a steady jog along a game trail he and the dogs had discovered the first week there.
While he ran, he had time to let his thoughts wander and his eyes roam over the landscape around him.
The forest was at a rather unlovely stage, the early spring buds and leaves just beginning to fill out into the more lush growth of summer. But it smelled of pine and cedar, and the early morning mist gave it a softer, more ethereal look.
That was nothing compared to the meadows that lay just on the other side of the woods around the farmhouse.
When Heero burst from the trees onto the grassy path, a wide field lay before him, knee deep with grass and early wildflowers. It might once have been a hay field; in fact, it almost had to have been, or the forest would have reclaimed it long since. Trowa's ancestors most likely harvested it to feed their livestock over the long winters.
The mist had risen, as the early rays of the sun began to peek through, and as Heero and the two dogs ran across, he could look up and see the hills ahead swathed in a mysterious shroud of fog.
"Beautiful," he breathed aloud, between steady inhalations and exhalations.
Taken aback by his uncharacteristically visceral reaction to the landscape, Heero turned towards a trail that ran upwards, deeper into the forest. He hadn't yet explored that particular path on his daily walks with the dogs, and he was curious to see where it led.
To his surprise, it wound its way up to a ridge and then along it until he found himself slowing to a walk, the better to enjoy the spectacular view.
His trail ran parallel to the reservoir, and high enough above the treetops that it gave an unobstructed view of the lake, and the sunrise over the hills on the opposite side. It was really quite breathtaking.
Heero stopped and let his gaze sweep the landscape and take it all in, savoring the solitude and peace for a long, tranquil moment.
Then Thor barked and bolted into the woods, Balder hot on his heels.
"Hey, get back here!" Heero yelled, his meditative mood shot to hell, as he sprinted after the dogs, hoping to catch up before they got too far ahead. "Balder! Thor! Come!"
He was at a distinct disadvantage, pursuing the long-legged hounds through thick underbrush and gullies. They hadn't stuck to the trail, but had dashed headlong into a thicket, probably on the heels of a hapless rabbit, or startled deer.
"Fuck!" Heero snarled, slapping tree branches aside and increasing his pace. "Thor! Come back here, dammit!"
Even as he yelled and pursued the wayward dogs, he knew it was futile. Thor was willful at the best of times, and Balder tended to follow his lead, being the younger of the two. Thus, Heero counted himself lucky when he stumbled upon the pair nosing around a clearing.
"Bad dogs!" he scolded, walking up and quickly taking hold of their collars. "You have got to stop taking off like this." He was about to start hauling them unceremoniously back home, and was thinking of fashioning a leash out of his windbreaker, when he realized what they were examining.
Someone had made a campfire in that clearing--not too long ago, from the looks of it.
Releasing the dogs, Heero went and knelt beside it, running a hand over the rocks that formed a circle around the ashes and debris. "Hm." He noticed that the ashes had been beaten down by rain, which made the site at least three weeks old; it hadn't rained substantially since he and Trowa had arrived. He'd been grateful for that, when he made the repairs to the barn roof.
Among the ashes, Heero also found remnants of cigarettes and joints. So, some local kids had come out there to get high. And when he walked around the clearing, he also found a few beer cans and wrappers from snacks, as well as the obligatory condom wrappers.
"Fucking kids!" he sighed kicking at a stump.
The last thing he and Trowa needed was a bunch of local kids snooping around the property. The plans his partner was already drawing up called for privacy above all. Clearly the old, faded "no trespassing" signs scattered liberally over the acreage belonging to the Barton farm, weren't sufficient.
Making a mental note to add signs to their next shopping list, Heero gave up his examination of the area, and whistled for the dogs to follow him.
Then he realized Thor had ghosted away into the trees while his attention was diverted.
"Fucking shit!" he growled.
Balder looked up at him, his expression so innocent it practically screamed for a halo to be gleaming over his head.
"You little creep," Heero muttered, unable to keep from grinning at the shaggy-faced clown. He ran a hand over Balder's head. "C'mon. Let's go round up your bad, bad brother."
He had no luck in that department, and ended up back at the house by mid-morning, hoping to find the dog there.
"Hey, Trowa!" he called as he flung open the back door and let Balder trot in ahead of him. "Has Thor made it back here yet?"
"Haven't seen him!" came a reply from the kitchen.
He stalked in to find Trowa eating a bowl of oatmeal and drinking coffee. "That damned hound took off again," he growled, heading for the coffee pot.
"He'll come home," Trowa said reassuringly. "He's just testing his boundaries a bit. First time he's ever had a couple of hundred acres to play in--he wants to see it all."
"The only part he's going to see once I get a fence built is a fifty by fifty section of the back yard!"
"We could start checking the pasture fence. I know it's only split-rail, and a lot of the posts are rotted; but maybe we can tack livestock wire on the inside so it'll hold him."
Heero shook his head. "He weighs too much. All he'd have to do is jump up on it, and he'd knock over a whole section. What he really needs is chain link fencing--tall chain link fencing."
"A little training wouldn't hurt, either," Trowa pointed out. "If I was back on my feet, I could do some obedience work with him. But since I'm not, maybe you could find classes somewhere local."
Heero grimaced. "Barton, the last thing I want to do is parade Thor in front of a bunch of strangers, while I fumble at teaching him to come when he's called."
"Anti-social?"
"It comes with the territory," Heero quipped, his humor gradually returning. "The girl at the gas station assured me everyone who's lived here has been reclusive and unfriendly."
Trowa gave an abortive snort. "Well, ya got her and the mailman convinced. Now there's just a few thousand other residents to persuade."
"Not a problem. We're posting new 'no trespassing' signs next week." Heero plunked down in the seat opposite Trowa. "I found a place out in the woods where some kids must've been partying...campfire, beer, pot and condoms."
"Lovely."
"So, I'm going to pick up some new signs to post, and make sure there's one every hundred feet along the perimeter of the property."
"Well, it's hardly necessary along the road," Trowa pointed out. "But maybe in the woods where the boundaries aren't as clear..."
"Everywhere," Heero insisted. "Look, considering what's out in that barn, we don't need anyone snooping around--anywhere."
"Don't you think going overboard on 'posting' the place will make it a bit obvious we've got something to hide?" Trowa leaned back in his chair, stretching his bandaged leg out in front of him. "I mean, when I was a kid, a 'no trespassing' sign was like an invitation."
"Really? I always took it to mean I was to stay out and mind my own business."
"Goody two-shoes."
"Vandal."
Trowa laughed, gesturing towards the stove. "There's oatmeal left in the pan, Heero. And I browned some sausage to go with it. Have breakfast and you won't be so cranky."
"Yes, I will," Heero predicted. "Until I find Thor, I promise to be downright irritable."
"He'll come home in his own time," Trowa assured him. "Wagging his tail behind him."
Heero narrowed his eyes. "You wouldn't be comparing me to Little Bo Peep, would you?"
"Hey, at least I passed up the Goldilocks reference," teased Trowa. "Have some porridge, why don't you?"
"I'm not sure I want to, now."
Trowa laughed aloud at the petulant tone. "God, you are so easy. Just eat, would you? You know you're gonna spend most of the day looking for Thor, because you won't be able to stop worrying until he's found. So you'll need sustenance."
Heero got up and went to the stove, stirring the thick oatmeal and taking an experimental sniff. "You put in cinnamon?"
"A touch."
"Well, maybe I could choke down a little bit," came the smirking reply.
"I thought that'd get you."
Heero filled a bowl with oatmeal and helped himself to a few of the sausages, taking the meal to the table to enjoy.
"Hey, I've been going through the junk mail," Trowa spoke up, gesturing to the stack on the corner of the table. "You know you've got about four letters from Relena."
Heero slammed down his spoon so hard the table shook. "I know!" he blurted. "I had to refuse a registered one yesterday."
"Seriously?" Trowa rolled his eyes. "She's really determined to find you, isn't she?"
"I meant to write 'refused' on the ones that came in the regular mail and send them back," Heero sighed. "I'll have to take care of that soon." He rubbed his forehead, looking pained.
Trowa gave a half-hearted smile. "Well at least they're all just addressed to you by name and town. She hasn't got the street address."
"No, or she'd probably show up at the door," Heero groaned. "Dammit, Trowa, when I accepted her invitation to that charity ball, it was just so I could get a closer look at my ex. I never intended to lead her on--at least, not to this degree."
"It's not your fault. Not really. I was there when you explained to her that you had no desire to continue any kind of relationship, social or romantic. Just 'cause she can't take a hint--"
"She wouldn't take it if I shouted it over a bullhorn," Heero sighed. "It was one fucking date, Trowa. One!"
"Well, and all that flirting beforehand," Trowa threw out, not wanting Heero to forget how much of the predicament was of his own making.
"Thanks for pointing that out," muttered his friend, picking up his spoon and digging into his oatmeal.
"Just making sure you learned your lesson."
"Yes, I did, quite thoroughly."
"And that is--?"
"Never lead on a girl as single-mindedly determined as Relena Darlian."
"Amen to that," chuckled Trowa.
TBC...
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