Story Wayne's New Beginning

ComCamGuy said:
Nothing wrong with 9. It's main advantage is for parties. You know, when you need to bring enough for everyone...

An accurate hit with a 9 is better than a miss with a 45.

As it is, I tend to look at it like a round of golf. Yes you can use one club for almost everything, but sometimes it's better to use the right club for the right part of the course.

The problem that arrises is most people that go that route have a different type or style for the different caliber. That adds complications. If you use the same tipe and just adjust for the situation, it works better.

1911? 9mm, 10mm, 45 ACP and 38 Super all have their advantages, and the 1911 handles the same way, with the same controls .

Glock? even easier, and easier to bring enough for a party. My G36 has seven 45ACP on board and is the same size as a G19 and handels the same so easy for another person (like the significant other) to pick up and run just like her G19 or G23, no real adjustments needed.

The added advantage of the 9 is shootability and quantity. Downside is less energetic effect on target, making shot placement more critical, which 9mm is good for. Plus side is in feld ammo aquisition is more plentiful.

Overall, if it's energy and effect, 10mm beats out 45ACP all the way around, but is a little too energetic for some to shoot accurately.


For the average person, there's nothing wrong with a well maintained Berretta 92or Glock 17 or 19. They have a good likelyhood of hitting and will run forever in shitty conditions without advanced upkeep.

But all of that is common and boring.

I say give Connie a COP 357 Mag.

View attachment 618283



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COP .357 Derringer - Wikipedia

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I have been waiting for this conversation to pop up in my story thread. In chapter 5 Wayne discovers Mike's Korean War era 1911 and in chapter 16 Wayne discovers another 1911 in the safe room. So at least from a historical perspective there is something for the 45 cal fans out there. Also in chapter 16 is the mention of the Ruger Mark II .22. That would be the pistol the Mike used to tech Wayne basic pistol shooting when he was 14.

I realized today that I never specified what kind of pistol Connie had in Wichita Falls. That gets revealed in chapter 47. I know, that is a long time to wait, so I will just say Wayne convinces her to give up her daddy's little Walther PPK for a Glock 19. So that puts the story clearly in the 9mm realm.

I am trying to keep things "real", so we have to consider that Wayne joined the army in 1988. It is a coincidence that the army adopted the Beretta 92F/92FS at that time. Therefore, Wayne grows up in the 9mm world. In chapter 20, I mention that Wayne clipped on his Beretta holster for the UTV ride. I will say that his 92FS has been upgraded because he participates in USPSA events.

Now, to get into the danger zone. I tend to agree with CCG on the power vs volume issue. I can also admit that I am a bit of cheap SOB in my retirement years and I like the cost advantage of a 50% price difference in ammo. I myself have a Springfield XD9 and a XD9M. The 9 was purchased because I wanted something that somewhat concealable on my 6'3" frame. The 9M was purchased because I thought the longer barrel would help me shoot better (it turns out my bad eyes and bad habits are bigger issues).

I am sure my responses will disappoint just about everyone who reads this (including those who will say, "Why did he buy a Springfield?") I hope you will continue to read more of the story as I bring up other controversial issues like 'Why did Mike have a 50 cal in his armory?' The answer to that question, dear readers, is simple. Mike liked to build guns and reload. You need a 50 cal so you can buy all the special equipment so you can reload it.

Respectfully,

Z
 
ComCamGuy said:
Nothing wrong with 9. It's main advantage is for parties. You know, when you need to bring enough for everyone...

An accurate hit with a 9 is better than a miss with a 45.

As it is, I tend to look at it like a round of golf. Yes you can use one club for almost everything, but sometimes it's better to use the right club for the right part of the course.

The problem that arrises is most people that go that route have a different type or style for the different caliber. That adds complications. If you use the same tipe and just adjust for the situation, it works better.

1911? 9mm, 10mm, 45 ACP and 38 Super all have their advantages, and the 1911 handles the same way, with the same controls .

Glock? even easier, and easier to bring enough for a party. My G36 has seven 45ACP on board and is the same size as a G19 and handels the same so easy for another person (like the significant other) to pick up and run just like her G19 or G23, no real adjustments needed.

The added advantage of the 9 is shootability and quantity. Downside is less energetic effect on target, making shot placement more critical, which 9mm is good for. Plus side is in feld ammo aquisition is more plentiful.

Overall, if it's energy and effect, 10mm beats out 45ACP all the way around, but is a little too energetic for some to shoot accurately.


For the average person, there's nothing wrong with a well maintained Berretta 92or Glock 17 or 19. They have a good likelyhood of hitting and will run forever in shitty conditions without advanced upkeep.

But all of that is common and boring.

I say give Connie a COP 357 Mag.

View attachment 618283



en.wikipedia.org

COP .357 Derringer - Wikipedia

en.wikipedia.org en.wikipedia.org
Click to expand...
as far as magazine capacity, i carry usually a glock 21 or a 30. so 13 plus 1 in the 30, i have quite a large collection of 45 acp pistols, and a couple of ARs in that cal, 9 is ok

why a miss with a 45 and not a 9 ? i shot IPSC back when it began, they didnt even allow 9mm back then, you just have to learn to shoot but then about all you had for 9s was browning hi power, ( excellent gun) and smith 59. this was in the late 70.s

but i do own glocks in 9. 17, 19 and 26 i gave each of my daughters and all grandkids a choice of them, SIL was smart and took a 1911 in 45 acp. but also like i said before i had a ffl since 1975. did gun shows for over 40 years,

guess i like bullet mass over velocity and i know what a 45 will do do animal or person,
 
Zoomer said:
I have been waiting for this conversation to pop up in my story thread. In chapter 5 Wayne discovers Mike's Korean War era 1911 and in chapter 16 Wayne discovers another 1911 in the safe room. So at least from a historical perspective there is something for the 45 cal fans out there. Also in chapter 16 is the mention of the Ruger Mark II .22. That would be the pistol the Mike used to tech Wayne basic pistol shooting when he was 14.

I realized today that I never specified what kind of pistol Connie had in Wichita Falls. That gets revealed in chapter 47. I know, that is a long time to wait, so I will just say Wayne convinces her to give up her daddy's little Walther PPK for a Glock 19. So that puts the story clearly in the 9mm realm.

I am trying to keep things "real", so we have to consider that Wayne joined the army in 1988. It is a coincidence that the army adopted the Beretta 92F/92FS at that time. Therefore, Wayne grows up in the 9mm world. In chapter 20, I mention that Wayne clipped on his Beretta holster for the UTV ride. I will say that his 92FS has been upgraded because he participates in USPSA events.

Now, to get into the danger zone. I tend to agree with CCG on the power vs volume issue. I can also admit that I am a bit of cheap SOB in my retirement years and I like the cost advantage of a 50% price difference in ammo. I myself have a Springfield XD9 and a XD9M. The 9 was purchased because I wanted something that somewhat concealable on my 6'3" frame. The 9M was purchased because I thought the longer barrel would help me shoot better (it turns out my bad eyes and bad habits are bigger issues).

I am sure my responses will disappoint just about everyone who reads this (including those who will say, "Why did he buy a Springfield?") I hope you will continue to read more of the story as I bring up other controversial issues like 'Why did Mike have a 50 cal in his armory?' The answer to that question, dear readers, is simple. Mike liked to build guns and reload. You need a 50 cal so you can buy all the special equipment so you can reload it.

Respectfully,

Z
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I own three of the XD line (XDS, XD, XDM) in the 9mm and have found all to be very reliable weapons, each have their place in my carry routine, but my every day in my pants pocket always, is the Ruger LCP max in 380 when I'm not going with the larger 9mm, I sometimes don't even know it's there is so small and light, and the ranges one's going to have to use it for personal defense, the 380 x 13 rounds is more than enough to deal with whatever close up problem arises. It's gotten so one needs to always carry at home any more due to the brazenness of the criminal element.
 
I was a ‘45 or nothing’ guy for a long time. My first pistol was a S&W 645. The wife’s was a Detonics Combatmaster. We added to the collection over the years and branched out. Had to add a Beretta to the stable to keep tuned for work, played with more energetic cartridges with a 941 Jericho, a Gold Cup in 45, and a co-worker had a tuned 1911 in 9 for bullseye that made in into our safe. That was many years and lots of options ago

Most of the time anymore it’s Glock on the waist. If it’s 9mm, it’s a 48 set up in Roland config, and if it’s 45, it’s an older grip modded 36 with blended mag extension . Reliable and not horrendously expensive to replace if one has to sit in an evidence locker for months
 
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Zoomer said:
I am wrapping up chapter 80 and the end of part 1. I have started part 2 where the tone is less Wayne's Excellent Adventures to Wayne's Misadventures. I don't know what the ending will be, but it really is all about the journey.

Z
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Sounds familiar, the whole not sure what the ending is, thing. I know where mine is going, but no idea what we will see as we travel
 
Not sure how well I will express this, so assume positive intent (it truly is meant as a compliment). One of the many things I love about the fiction here is how it appeals to both men and women. While I am a big @Kathy in FL fan, I also really like your story and @ncsfsgm stories, I appreciate that yours and his are all about buying supplies with unlimited funds. Kathy's are about making due with what you have (and sometimes with what you can only find).

I will never ask or correct you about gun calibers or what type of weapon to use, but I will fuss at you for choosing the wrong flour or preservation technique. Just goes to show how when we prep, we need to be broad based - Bible, bullets, bouillon, and beans ( and I would add skills and practice in all of the above).
 
What? Just because it's 300-ish of them if you count them stem to stern through the 11.5 books so far? the big issue is with them all in the same place right now. Don't worry, I have some plans to cull some of the herd pretty soon. and I'm trying to focus on pieces and parts of the gaggle
 
ComCamGuy said:
What? Just because it's 300-ish of them if you count them stem to stern through the 11.5 books so far? the big issue is with them all in the same place right now. Don't worry, I have some plans to cull some of the herd pretty soon. and I'm trying to focus on pieces and parts of the gaggle
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but in my own defense, the 300 number isn't all the ones currently doing something, and some were bit parts on the list to keep the names straight for later use.

5 at Garen and Bekkas

4 at Dougs

6 at Zed's

8 at Larrissa's

9 at Karls

6 at Stephen's

8 at Odina's

and

about 14 at the southern camp

And all introed slowly over 11+ books

The rest are charactors who were at their various locations and went their separate ways in their own books
 

Chapter 23​



Wayne opened the door for Connie, and she climbed into the Land Rover. They drove to the transfer warehouse and retrieved her car. Before she started the engine, Connie looked over at him through the open window. “Would you mind following me to my apartment? I’d like to grab a few things.” She hesitated, then added more softly, “That’s if it’s still okay for me to spend more time at the farm. I just feel safe there.”

“That’s fine, Connie. I like knowing you’re safe. And if keeping you close gives me an excuse to have you nearby, I’m not going to complain.” He leaned into the window and kissed her gently.

A few minutes later, they arrived at Connie’s apartment building. The stairwell smelled faintly of dust and old paint, and the porch light over the landing flickered once before holding steady. As they climbed the stairs, her next-door neighbor, Kathy, cracked open her door and peered out. “Connie? Lord, I’m glad that’s you.” She opened the door wider, her eyes moving from Connie to Wayne and back again. “There’ve been strange men hanging around here. They kept pounding on your door and asking where you were. I told them I didn’t know a thing, but they didn’t like that answer. What in the world is going on?”

“Oh, Kathy, I’m so sorry you got dragged into this.” Connie rubbed both hands over her face, then forced herself to focus. “A lot has happened in the last several days. That crazy cop, Coonrod, followed me all the way to Wichita Falls and tried to break into my hotel room. When the police arrived, he pulled a gun, and they shot him. He won’t bother me anymore. Then tonight, James Bonneville tracked Wayne down and attacked him outside Charlie’s place. You remember the trouble I had with Bonneville. He’s in jail now, but I don’t know for how long.” She drew a breath and gestured toward Wayne. “This is Wayne.” Then her expression sharpened. “Did you recognize any of the men who came here?”

Wayne offered Kathy his hand. “Nice to meet you, ma’am. I’m sorry it’s under circumstances like this.”

Kathy looked up into Wayne’s face, worry pinching the corners of her mouth. “Nice to meet you, Wayne. Connie mentioned meeting a nice fella at the party last week. I’m glad you’re here with her. She shouldn’t be coming back to this place alone, not with men like that sniffing around.” She turned back to Connie. “No, I can’t say I recognized them. Heavyset boys. One maybe thirty, the other closer to forty. Not much hair on the tops of their heads. They had that mean family look, if you know what I mean.”

Connie’s face went still. “That sounds like the Coonrod brothers. They must have heard their older brother was killed.” She touched Kathy’s arm. “Thank you for telling me. I’ll let the sheriff know. You have a good night, and if anyone else comes snooping around, call me right away. Don’t open the door. Don’t argue with them. Just call.”

“I’ll, do that.” Kathy said. “And you be careful too. Are you staying here tonight?”

Connie paused and looked at Wayne.

Wayne answered before the hesitation could grow awkward. “No, ma’am. Connie is staying at my home in the extra bedroom. We’re working with the sheriff to keep her safe. If anything unusual happens around here, please let Connie or Sheriff Maybre know right away.” He gave her a reassuring nod. “You have a nice night, ma’am.”

Kathy wished them a good night, but she did not close her door until Connie had unlocked her apartment. The apartment was small and clean, though the old paint and tired furniture made the place feel worn down. Wayne glanced once toward the narrow hallway, and her bedroom.

“I just need a couple of minutes to grab a few things,” Connie said. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Wayne decided he would be most comfortable leaning against the kitchen counter, where he could watch the front door. A few minutes of Connie time turned into ten minutes of real time, but eventually she came back with three bags packed and her purse over one shoulder. “I’m ready,” she said. “Are you sure it’s okay that I stay with you?”

Wayne reached for her and pulled her into a hug. “It’s more than okay. It’s what I hoped would happen. Are you sure you have everything you’ll need for a while?”

Connie looked around the room. “Now that you mention it, I should grab some food from the fridge. No sense letting it go bad if I’m not back for a few days.”

They packed several food items into shopping bags. Wayne was loaded down when they walked back down the stairs, and Kathy watched from her window with a worried smile that did not quite reach her eyes.

They drove their separate vehicles back toward the farm, the lights of the city fading as they drove into the dark night illuminated only by a crescent moon. When they arrived, Wayne had Connie pull her car into the garage. After she climbed out, he worked up the courage to ask what had been pressing on him since the restaurant. “Connie, would you mind telling me what happened between you and Bonneville?”

Connie leaned against the side of her car and let out a slow breath. “There isn’t much of a backstory, really. A couple of years ago, I was at a bar with a few friends from the Women in Trucking Association. We were griping about the harassment and prejudice we run into as female truck drivers. Bonneville came in with two of his cousins and started hitting on us hard. I had to shove him away from me inside the bar. When we got up to leave, he followed us outside. Just as I was about to get into my friend’s car, he grabbed me and tried to drag me away. I fought back and hit him in the face. That made him furious. He slapped me so hard I had a bruise for a week, so I kneed him in the groin. One of the girls called 911, and a squad car showed up in about two minutes. His cousins ran and hid, then took off after the police left. Technically, they didn’t put hands on anyone, so nothing happened to them. Bonneville spent ninety days in county lockup and got a restraining order. Until tonight, I hadn’t seen him again. I don’t think he expected me to be there.” She looked away toward the darkening yard. “End of story, except men like him never think a story is over unless they get to write the last line.”

Wayne was quiet for a moment. “Thank you for telling me. I hope the worst is over, but I don’t think it is.” He brushed a thumb along her cheek, careful and gentle. “I’m glad you’re staying at the farm. I want you to feel safe. Not trapped. Safe.” Then he leaned down and kissed her.

Connie unlocked the back door while Wayne carried in three of her bags. He found her kneeling on the floor, receiving an enthusiastic load of puppy love from Rover. When Wayne looked at the dog, Rover turned her head back to Connie for more attention. “Well,” Wayne said, “I guess I know how I rate now. No longer king of the castle. Just a humble serf.”

Connie laughed and rose slowly, letting the moment stretch. “Aww, is someone feeling neglected?” She took the bags from his hands and set them on the table, then turned back to him with a look that made his pulse forget its rhythm. “Tell me, my king. How may I serve you?” She stepped closer. “Or are you still just my knight in shining armor?” Before he could answer, she slid one hand up his chest, pulled him down, and kissed him with a sultry confidence that left no room for jokes. When she eased back half a step, her smile was pure mischief. “Does that make you feel better, my liege?”

“Why yes, it does, my lady.” Wayne took a breath and collected what was left of his dignity. “Let me take these bags up to your room.”

Connie plucked one bag back from his hands. “I’ll help you.” They climbed the stairs together, slower than necessary, the old boards creaking softly beneath them. At the master bedroom door, Connie paused and glanced inside. “Wayne, why did you put me in the big bedroom? Isn’t this supposed to be your room?”

“Yes,” he said. “Eventually. But I stayed in my childhood room because I wanted a new bed for the master first. After it arrived, I left you here because this was the room you already knew. I didn’t want you wondering what I expected from you.”

Connie set her bag near the dresser and turned back to him, her expression softer now. “Such a gentleman.” She stepped close enough that he could feel the warmth of her. “For the record, I don’t feel pressured. Not by you.” Her smile turned slow, intimate, and just a little dangerous. “I think you should take the master as your room.” She rose onto her toes and kissed him, lingering long enough to make the rest of her meaning clear. “And if you’d like,” she whispered, “I’d be happy to share it with you.”

Wayne’s hands settled lightly at her waist. “I would like that very much,” he said, his voice quieter than before. “As long as this is what you want.”

“It is.” Connie smiled against his mouth, then laughed softly, the sound easing the last bit of tension from the room. “Though I’d want it even more if we didn’t still have all that food waiting in your truck.”

A short time later, with the food put away and the house locked for the night, they found their way back upstairs. The master bedroom was quiet, lit only by the warm glow of a bedside lamp. Connie excused herself to the bathroom, and when she returned a few minutes later in a soft camisole, Wayne forgot the careful words he had been rehearsing. She crossed the room, took his hand, and drew him gently down beside her. Rover curled up on the rug at the foot of the bed, gave one satisfied sigh, and the old house settled around them.
 
moldy said:
Not sure how well I will express this, so assume positive intent (it truly is meant as a compliment). One of the many things I love about the fiction here is how it appeals to both men and women. While I am a big @Kathy in FL fan, I also really like your story and @ncsfsgm stories, I appreciate that yours and his are all about buying supplies with unlimited funds. Kathy's are about making due with what you have (and sometimes with what you can only find).

I will never ask or correct you about gun calibers or what type of weapon to use, but I will fuss at you for choosing the wrong flour or preservation technique. Just goes to show how when we prep, we need to be broad based - Bible, bullets, bouillon, and beans ( and I would add skills and practice in all of the above).
Click to expand...
We've all seen those who spend on gear or the latest Extra Fine pistol offering and expect it to automatically reflect in enhanced skill sets.

I try to avoid those at all costs and hang with those I know are diligent about regular, thoughtful practise.
 
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Chapter 24​



The next morning, Wayne woke at his usual time and looked over at the woman he had realized he loved. Connie was still asleep, her face softened with a contentment that made his chest ache in the best possible way. He eased out of bed, careful not to wake her, and went to his old bedroom to exercise. Afterward, he went downstairs, started the coffee, and unlocked the doggie door for Rover. By the time he returned upstairs, he had just stepped out of the shower when Connie appeared in the bathroom doorway, smiling like she had been waiting for him.

“You started without me,” she said, then pushed him gently back under the warm spray.



Sometime later, the gate buzzer sounded. Wayne threw on clothes and went to the front door monitor. Connor was waiting in his truck at the gate. Wayne buzzed him in.

“Morning, Wayne. I hope I’m not too early.”

“No problem. I’ve been up for a while. Pull around behind the garage by the barn. I’ll be out in a few minutes.” Wayne returned upstairs to find Connie dressed in jeans and one of his old Army T-shirts, straightening the master bedroom. The sight of her in his shirt tugged at something tender in him. “Your brother is here,” he said, unable to hide his smirk. “A little earlier than I expected. Jenny and Aimee should be coming by this morning to do some cleaning too.”

“Oh, poo.” Connie gave him a look full of mock disappointment. “I was hoping for a quiet day with you. It has been kind of hectic lately. I suppose you’ll have to introduce me to your staff.”

“Very funny. I’d like to work with Connor for a while this morning, and I think I’ll ask the girls to deep clean the apartment over the garage. I noticed it was dusty up there yesterday.”

“Sounds like a plan. I want to put my things away. I saw that all of your aunt’s things were already gone.”

“Yep. Leonard had the girls take care of that.”

Wayne walked out by the barn and found Connor unloading his ZTR mower. “That is a nice machine,” Wayne said.

Connor smiled with the kind of pride a young man tried not to show too much of. “It sure is. I ended up spending my college fund on it and the rest of my equipment so I could start my business. The ZTR is fast enough that I can finish most jobs a lot quicker than folks expect.”

Wayne asked, “How many clients do you have?”

Connor’s smile faded a little. “I was up to ten, and that kept me pretty busy. Then two of my oldest customers passed away, one moved away, and one lost his job and couldn’t afford me anymore. I still have a few smaller places with older folks, and of course I take care of Uncle Jay and Aunt Sheila at the marina. That place isn’t very big, so I don’t charge them for my time.” He shrugged, trying to make it sound less serious than it was. “I don’t have a lot of expenses. My apartment is small. My parents didn’t own their house, so after Rachel moved in with her boyfriend and Connie got an apartment closer to the transfer warehouse, I ended up renting a couple of rooms outside town where I can store my equipment. Meeting you and getting this job is really going to help.”

Wayne said, “If you don’t mind me asking, do you have a girlfriend?”

“Uh, no. I had one or two in high school, but nothing serious. I have always been busy with my business. I started it when I was 16, so not much time to be chasing after girls.”

“I hear you. I didn’t have much time to chase women while I was in the Army.” Wayne hesitated, then chose his words carefully. “That brings up something I wanted to be honest about. Connie and I are getting pretty serious. In fact, she’ll probably be staying here with me for a while. I hope that doesn’t make things awkward.”

Connor looked toward the house, and the expression on his face changed. It was not suspicion. It was the protective concern of a younger brother who had watched his sister carry too much for too long. “No problem for me, Wayne. I just want Connie happy. She raised Rachel and me when she barely had time to grow up herself. She gave up a lot to keep us together.” His jaw tightened. “After Bonneville put his hands on her a couple of years ago and lately, Coonrod being a stalker, she stopped trusting men for a long while. If she trusts you, that means something.”

“She told me about Bonneville last night, after he caused trouble outside the restaurant.”

“What happened last night?”

“He’s been after me to sell the farm and some other properties, and I told him no. Last night, he must have spotted the Land Rover at the Cajun Catfish. Connie and I were walking out when he pulled up and tried to intimidate us.” Wayne’s voice went flatter. “Then he grabbed me. So I put him down.”

“What! You killed him?”

“No,” Wayne said quickly. “I put him on the ground, hard. He grabbed my arm and tried to pull me off to the side, so my training kicked in. I hit him in the throat and drove my knee into his groin. By the time the sheriff arrived, Charlie had Rachael fetch him a bag of frozen peas, and Bonneville was hunched over on the front steps of the restaurant. It would have been funny if he hadn’t come at Connie with a restraining order still active.” Wayne’s mouth tightened. “She insisted on pressing charges. I’m glad she did.”

“That’s the kind of excitement nobody needs.” Connor looked down, plucked a stem of quack grass, and set it between his teeth. “The Bonneville’s are bad actors. James tried to pass himself off as the respectable one with that developer business, but everybody knows he strong-armed people into selling. That’s how I lost one of my clients. They had river frontage next to Bonneville property, and I guess James wanted their land too. Word is, he made them an offer they couldn’t refuse.”

“Sounds like we may have trouble with them and Coonrod’s relatives too. Connie’s neighbor said men who sounded like Coonrod’s brothers had been hanging around her apartment.” Wayne looked back toward the house. “That’s part of why she’s staying here. The other part is that I want her here. I’m going to ask if she wants to give up the apartment and move out here permanently, but only if she feels safe doing it.”

Connor nodded slowly, admiration and worry crossing his face at the same time. “If Connie says yes, she means it. She doesn’t do anything halfway. She took care of Rachel and me, built her trucking business, and kept moving even when life tried to knock her down. If she’s choosing you, Wayne, don’t make her regret trusting you.”

Wayne met his eyes. “I won’t. And if danger comes here looking for her, it will find me first.”

Connor studied him for another second, then nodded. “All right. Let me know if I can help. Her apartment was mostly furnished, so there shouldn’t be much to move. We can use my truck and trailer if she wants.

“So, Wayne,” Connor said, shifting back to business, “I was thinking I’d start by mowing and trimming around the house and barn, then figure out what plants you have right around here.”

“That sounds great. I have a few special projects I’d like to work with you on around here, but I’d also like you to manage things however you think best. I have plenty of other pokers in the fire right now. Just call me if you have questions or want to spend any big money, okay?”

“Sounds good, Wayne. I’ll check in with you before I leave.”

“All right. I’ll give you a gate code and get keys made for the buildings and gates.” Wayne reached out and shook Connor’s hand.

Wayne headed back to the house. As he opened the back door, the smell of a hot breakfast wrapped around him. Connie stood at the stove in flip-flops and his old Army T-shirt, and the sight nearly stopped him in the doorway. He came up behind her and kissed the side of her neck. “That smells delicious.”

As they were about to start breakfast, Wayne set down his coffee and looked up at Connie.. “Connie, I’ve been thinking. I don’t want to rush you, and I don’t want you to feel like this is only because things are dangerous right now. But what would you think about moving out here permanently? The world is going sideways, and we don’t know when if it will get worse. More than that, I want you here because this place feels right when you’re in it.”

Connie set the plates of pancakes and bacon on the table, then sat across from him with a smile that made him forget the rest of his carefully planned speech. “Wayne, I’ve been thinking about this since we got out of the shower this morning.” She laced her fingers with his. “I love it out here. And I think I’m falling in love with you. It would be good to get out of that little apartment, especially now, but that’s not the only reason. I want to spend more time with you. My apartment is mostly furnished. I only have a bed and a few personal things. Maybe I could ask Connor if we can borrow his truck and make one trip into town for the rest.”

Wayne paused, caught between amusement and guilt. “I may have already worked out that exact plan with Connor this morning. He’s on board with it, assuming you are.”

Connie rose from her chair and settled onto Wayne’s lap, looping her arms around his neck. “I do love you, Mr. Dupre.”

Wayne held her close. “And I love you, Ms. Bradshaw.” He kissed her softly, then smiled against her mouth. “Let’s clean up in here and borrow Connor’s truck, he is going to be busy mowing and trimming for a while.”
 

Chapter 25​



The two of them drove into town and made a quick stop at the hardware store, where Wayne dropped off keys and asked for five spare sets. Forty minutes later, after loading Connie’s queen-size bed and a stack of boxes—some of which Connie said she would explain later—they said goodbye to Connie’s neighbor Kathy and headed home. Connie called her landlord on the way and told him where to send the security deposit after he had the apartment cleaned. As they pulled up to the gate, Wayne noticed another car parked by the garage.

They pulled up behind the garage in Connor’s truck and found Connor standing beside Jenny and Aimee near the car. Wayne climbed out, taking in the little cluster and the cautious way Connor had positioned himself between the women and the house. “Morning, ladies,” Wayne said. “Let’s all go inside and talk for a few minutes.” He waved Connor in with them.

Once they were gathered in the kitchen, Wayne said, “I forgot you ladies were coming out today. I see you met Connor. Did you already know each other?”

Jenny, who seemed to be the more forward of the twins, spoke first. “Not really. Connor was three years ahead of us in school. He didn’t recognize us when we pulled up.”

“I can relate to that,” Connie murmured, glancing at Wayne with a private smile.

Connor stayed quiet while Jenny continued. “When we pulled up, he was mowing on that strange-looking lawn mower. He saw us and we had to convince him that we were on the up and up.” She looked at Connor with a bright smile and touched the back of his hand. “I hope we didn’t get him in trouble, Wayne.”

Connor glanced at Jenny, then quickly back at Wayne. “They said you hired them to clean the place,” he said, sounding a little guilty. Jenny gave him a small smile that made the tips of his ears redden.

Wayne laughed, but only lightly. “No, Connor, it’s okay this time. Actually, I’m glad you stopped them. With all the craziness going on, I want us to tighten up OPSEC around here.”

Aimee finally spoke up. “What’s OPSEC?” Her voice was soft and her eyes looked a little lost.

Wayne explained that OPSEC was military shorthand for operational security. Then he recapped the last few days: the barbecue, Coonrod’s death in Wichita Falls, the men showing up at Connie’s apartment, Bonneville’s attack outside the restaurant, and Sheriff Maybre’s warning about break-ins farther down Palmer Chapel Road and setting up neighborhood watch groups across the parish. As he spoke, the room grew quieter. Even Rover seemed to settle more heavily on the floor.

“Okay,” Wayne said at last. “I want to explain all of this once so we’re on the same page. Jenny and Aimee, I don’t think I ever caught your last names.”

Jenny straightened a little. “Samuels. We started our own house-cleaning business after the diner in town cut our hours. Your aunt was one of our first steady customers.” Her confidence wavered for the first time. “Things are slowing down all over. Two families already canceled because they’re watching every dollar, and another asked if they could pay us in canned goods until work picks back up. We’re not too proud to take it, but cash keeps the lights on. We’re hoping we can keep working with you, Wayne.”

Wayne took a breath. “Right. Okay, we’ll get back to that. First, I want to introduce you properly to Connie. We’re a couple, and she’ll be staying here at the house. Connor is Connie’s brother. He’s taking care of the property because I have a lot of other projects going. Please consider him the estate manager.” He looked around the room. “Everyone good with that?” He got nods from all of them, though Jenny’s lingered on Connor a beat longer than necessary. Wayne cleared his throat. “Oh, and Rover over there is the queen of the house, so we all need to keep her happy.” Everyone laughed, and the tension eased a little.

“Yes,” Wayne continued, “I would like to keep you on as cleaners, and if you’re interested, as general helpers too. There is a lot to do around here, and I—we—could use your help.”

Jenny looked at Aimee before answering for both of them. “That would be great, Wayne. We really appreciate the opportunity. Honestly, steady work right now means more than you know.”

“Now that we’ve got that settled,” Wayne said, “do you think the two of you can help Connie and me move her things into the house? With a little help from Connor, we can get the bed upstairs to the second bedroom. After that, I think the rest of us can handle the boxes.”

“Sounds good,” the twins said in unison. The perfect timing made Wayne blink. Hearing two voices land on the same words at the same moment was still strange.

“Connor, can you help me with the bed and then keep working outside?”

“You bet, Wayne.”

Connie explained where she wanted the first boxes to go, then headed out with Jenny and Aimee to start unloading.

Wayne added, “Once we get Connie’s things moved, I’d like to show you two the apartment above the garage. It needs a deep cleaning. I don’t think it has been touched in years. Let me know when you’re available.”

The squad broke up to take care of business. Connie pulled Wayne aside and lowered her voice. “Wayne, I have some boxes of preps in the truck. I don’t want to open them in front of everyone, and I’m not sure where you want them stored.”

“Okay. Let’s put them in the basement for now. We have a lot to talk about.” Wayne glanced toward the door, then back at her. “Does Connor share your prepper interests?”

“Oh yes. Even Rachael does, but she’s living with her bum of a boyfriend, so I don’t tell her much about what I’ve done. Got to maintain OPSEC, after all.” Connie reached up, kissed him quickly, and went outside to help the girls carry in the boxes that needed to go upstairs.

Wayne and Connor took down the old bed in the guest bedroom and hauled it out to the garage. Then they carried Connie’s bed upstairs and put it together. Connor looked around, noticed none of Connie’s clothes or personal things had gone into the room, and smirked. “So this is my sister’s room now?”

Wayne caught the joke and smiled. “I think she already laid claim to a different bedroom.”

“Too much information,” Connor said, laughing as he headed outside to get back to work.

In less than an hour, all of Connie’s belongings had been distributed. When Wayne looked into the master bedroom, he saw that she had taken over the larger dresser and somehow had more clothes than he remembered loading into the truck. Jenny and Aimee said they were caught up and asked what came next.

Wayne and Connie took the girls out to the garage. He unlocked the door to the stairs and ushered the women up ahead of him. He enjoyed the view as the last one going up and smiled. Once in the apartment, he showed Jenny and Aimee the rooms. “I’d like this place deep-cleaned and aired out so it can be used when needed. I also want the kitchen set up with clean dishes and some shelf-stable food, enough that someone could move in on short notice.”

Jenny, always the more forward of the two, asked, “Do you have specific plans for the space?”

“No. Why do you ask?”

Jenny glanced around the dusty apartment with a practiced eye. “Because it could be a lot nicer without spending much. We see folks throwing away good furniture all the time. A slipcover here, clean curtains there, maybe a few things from thrift stores.” She gave a small, practical shrug. “When money gets tight, you learn how to make a place feel cared for without pretending you’ve got money to burn.”

Connie stepped into the conversation. “How about if we ladies put our heads together and see what we can do to make this place move-in ready?”

“Sounds good,” the twins answered in unison again. Wayne decided it sounded a little less strange the second time.

“Okay,” Wayne said. “You three do what you think the space needs, but please don’t make it too girly. I’m thinking something between army barracks and a day spa.” He laughed as he started down the stairs.
 
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