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. And expanding.”
“Is there fighting in Moose Jaw?”
“Just a few pockets of crazies left. We’ll get them all soon. Most ran at the first sign of trouble. The real Islamists, the ones from the Middle East are mostly out in Ontario and Quebec. Vancouver too. I don’t know how bad things are. I do know most of the eastern cities are controlled by the crazies. I doubt Northern Ontario is though. The rural people have guns. Most in the cities don’t. At least not enough of them. I imagine some people will try and make their way out here soon. Before the snow comes.”
“If I join, will I be in Moose Jaw?”
He nodded again. “At first. Then I don’t know. Wherever we need you to be.”
“I’ll tell you what, Colonel. I need to think. Perhaps in the spring.”
He smiled, looked at her green eyes, a face that could melt a man’s heart. “Okay Rita Royale. You know where to find me.” He nodded to Karen and returned to where Tom James and some others were talking.
“I thought you wanted to join them?”
Rita looked at her. “I keep seeing all those kids lying dead. Kids I killed.”
“Still having bad dreams?”
“Every night.” Rita spotted Bill standing by himself. She motioned him over. “Bill,” she asked. “Still have that marijuana?”
He smiled. “Good idea. I was just thinking about a smoke. This coffee sucks. Come on over to my place and I’ll roll us up a big bomber. I’ve been saving a bottle of single malt. Maybe I’ll crack that baby open tonight.”
Rita smiled. “Did you sign up, Bill?”
“Yes, beautiful, I did. I may be nearly sixty, but I can still hold a rifle.”
“And a bazooka.”
“You know it.”
Bill’s small house was only a two minute walk from the hall. Karen didn’t go with them, as she had things that needed doing at home. Rita walked beside the older man, studied his slow gait, slight limp, glad he was on her side. They sat together on his deck and looked down the valley, the hills brown now, the green grass given up, waiting for next spring to arrive.
The air was cooler, still nice, and she smoked the joint, drank the scotch, enjoyed listening to Bill Alexander tell all he knew about Sharia, Islam, terrorists. He told her what life for a woman would be like under their laws. How women were nothing more than chattel. Slaves to their husbands and masters.
“I
