Holding Their Own: The Salt War Read Free

hand, have more refined tastes and expectations for our vacation outings.”
    Bishop snorted at her choice of words. Feigning a hurt look, he spread his arms to indicate the bare stone walls surrounding them. “What? This is a great place. What more could you ask for?”
    “Diapers. Baby food. Water. Someplace to bathe. Toilet paper. How about sleeping without worrying about a tarantula crawling up my butt?”
    “So, I suppose now is a bad time to talk about my plans for a second honeymoon?” he replied sheepishly.
    The remark elicited a growl of frustration as Terri reached for a nearby pebble. The projectile bounced harmlessly off of Bishop’s body armor, but the point was made. “I suppose not,” he mumbled, reaching for his pack.
    He began pulling items out of the large ruck, hoping a quick inventory would improve his spouse’s mood.
    It did not.
    Bishop’s bug out bag had been carefully stocked to keep him alive for several days. Missing were the items for Hunter.
    “We can tear up my spare shirt and pants for diapers,” he offered, trying to improve Terri’s outlook. “I’ve got two MRE’s (meals ready to eat), with potatoes. We can mash and squash parts of those for Hunter to eat. I’ve got my water filter – I just have to locate some water.”
    “Bishop,” she interrupted, “How long before someone comes looking for us?”
    Sighing, the Texan peered down, suddenly finding his boots very intriguing.
    “Bishop?”
    “Well… probably three or four days,” he shyly answered. “Maybe a bit more.”
    Terri shook her head, obviously unhappy with the response. “Why so long? What did you tell Nick about this little endeavor before we left?”
    Bishop’s words tumbled out rushed and apologetic. “I was only doing it for you… for us. You were so stressed after Galveston and the hurricane. You seemed frustrated with having your security guys around all the time. We haven’t spent any time alone for almost a year… and… and I just thought we might….”
    Terri’s fists maneuvered to her hips as he rambled on, her head tilting with “the look.”
    “Okay. I fucked up,” he confessed. “I told Nick I was going to take you to this canyon I knew about – a picturesque little nook on the Rio Grande. I let him in on my plan… that we were going to camp for a while. Swim in the river… you know… vacation stuff. I told him not to worry if we didn’t show up at Fort Bliss for a few days.”
    “And the provisions we were carrying in the back of the truck?”
    “That was our camping gear, extra food, and supplies for Hunter. I had the church ladies pack five days of whatever they thought he needed.”
    Bishop lowered his head, chin resting against his chest. “I just wanted to spend some time as a family. Just the three of us. Like regular people.”
    “Great,” she replied, spinning in a small circle with her arms spread wide. “This is just great. So now we’re stuck in the middle of nowhere, with practically nothing to survive on. We’ve got a bunch of people shooting at us, and no one even knows where we are, let alone having any reason to start a search. Wonderful.”
    “We’ve got each other,” Bishop ventured, his tone soft. “We’re all here and alive.”
    Something in his words resonated with Terri, a realization that her husband’s heart had been in the right place. She went to him, wrapping her arms tightly around his back in a snug embrace. “I’m sorry. I know this wasn’t what you had in mind. You’re right; we are together, and that’s all that really matters.”
    Bishop pulled her head against his breast and kissed the crown of her hair. They held each other for several minutes, the stillness of the desert providing a relaxing backdrop. Bending slightly lower to whisper in his wife’s ear, Bishop prodded, “Now about that second honeymoon….”

    Rocco pulled a handful of diapers from the cardboard box, displaying the bounty for everyone to see. “Shit!