Free Orphan Maker by D Jordan Redhawk

go, Gwen asked, “Was it your boyfriend, the one who had nothing to do with it?”
    Loomis, who had made it to the door, stopped in her tracks. She turned, hand on the doorknob. “What do you mean?”
    Her tone was dangerous, and Gwen responded accordingly. She dropped her gaze and turned slightly away, presenting herself in as unthreatening a manner as possible. “You talked in your sleep. I was just repeating what you said.”
    Appeased, Loomis growled, “I’ve never had a boyfriend. Don’t pay attention to that kind of stuff. It was just a dream.” She left the room, closing the door behind her.
    Gwen watched her go, thoughtfully considering her answer.“You’ve never had a boyfriend?”
    ***
     
    The front of the cabin was mostly glass. As dawn began to pink the sky to the west, Loomis made her way into the kitchen with plenty of light to see by. As quietly as possible, she started a fire in the woodburning stove. The entrance to the boys’ loft was just overhead. She didn’t want to wake them, though she doubted anything short of a stick of dynamite would wake Kevin after the day he’d had yesterday. Cara or Heather had filled the teapots the night before. Loomis put one on the stovetop, knowing it would be awhile before the fire built up enough to heat the water. Overhead, the ceiling fan slowly revolved, its motor humming in the silence, reminding her she needed to find a replacement motor soon or they would lose the extra circulation.
    Loomis leaned against the butcher-block island and rubbed her face. She’d totally forgotten Gwen’s presence in her room. Feeling the bed move had scared about twenty years off her life. It was a damned good thing the shotguns were hanging against the far wall of the bedroom, or Gwen would be picking buckshot from her teeth. The nightmare had been no better or worse than it ever had been. She relived the past with some frequency, though it recurred more often when she was stressed. Having a houseful of strangers would constitute stress, she guessed. Loomis hoped her mind would settle enough to allow the nightmare to slip back into its dormant stages.
    Good Lord, there was so much to do. For one thing, the homestead didn’t have shoes for Kevin or Lucky, though somewhere in one of the barns there was a trunk of baby clothes. They would need more of those since Heather was due in five months or so. And another crib, diapers, clothes for the new family members, a new fan motor, and anything else they could get their hands on.
    Then there was schooling. Kevin probably had never gone to school before the plague. Loomis doubted Lucky or Gwen had spent much time reading since Orphan Maker, either. They had to be tested to see where they needed to start applying themselves. Maybe Lindsay Crossing had just been lucky, but Loomis was certain that keeping the kids learning had a lot to do with their survival. Even now, five years later, the monthly town gatherings were still a habit as everyone got together and discussed what projects they worked on and what they learned from them. The flow of ideas was what had kept them alive in the past, and continued to do so now.
    Today’s priority was morning chores, of course. The ewes wouldn’t want their morning milking to be neglected. Then the garden needed water, the horses to be fed, the woodbox here and in the summer kitchen refilled, the chickens and rabbits fed and watered, the traps checked for any vermin… The list of tasks at the Loomis homestead went on and on. In order to get more goods, they would have to make a scavenging trip to McAdam. That would be an overnight trip there and back. She would need Terry with her. He was good at getting into tight spots and finding hiding places. Rick would have to stay behind this time. Loomis didn’t really think her family was in danger, but with forty odd city kids in town they had to be a bit more careful. What if they were forerunners for some sort of invasion?
    Loomis scoffed at