Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The morning dawns wet and grey, a buzzing noise proves to be Tom and Mav taxiing their plane back to the jetty. Phil makes his way through his ablutions, leaving Megan to sleep, and wonders downstairs. Everything is being done in the smaller living room this morning, where a cozy fire is taking the edge off the chill. Tasty smells are drifting from the oven and the coffee pot is full. Phil helps himself to a cup and picks up a modern beaver book, it's photos from the beaver restoration projects in Germany.

Tom and Mav make it back inside, saying hello briefly before heading upstairs to change out of wet clothes. Phil nips to the basement to collect their drying. All their clothes are now clean, the bedding can wait for Tom and Mav's wet things to go through. When he carries the laundry back upstairs he finds the envelopes of photos in the suitcase and brings them back down. All these stairs, no wonder Mav's so fit.

It's not like he's not on a bit of a health kick himself these days. It didn't start off intentionally, just spending more time in town doing DIY to work on the garage apartment instead of going off fishing on a weekend. He'd noticed he'd lost a bit of weight. Being able to tighten your belt another notch is a good thing at his age. Then he'd had to get his good suit out for the trip to DC. He got it for his fortieth birthday and had been embarrassed to discover that it was too tight to fasten. Megan moved the buttons on the jacket and his belt hid the top of the pants but still, it was not muscle, it was the belly that had been creeping up on him and a wakeup call. Without the DIY Phil's sure it wouldn't have fit at all.

So he's been making a real effort. Joining Ollie for his physio and trainer directed gym sessions. Making sure he and Sam get an hour a week of catch in, joining Megan one morning a week when she swims, and instigating a weekly walk with Ashley, when he realised he hardly spends any one on one time with his daughter at all. He's also been walking to the gym at the VTC to lift weights at lunchtime for half an hour Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. The effects are pleasing, he can now fasten his suit trousers, even if they are still too tight to breathe in and all of the activities are leaving him far less exhausted.

Phil thinks Mav might be on to something with his remarks about diets. He knows they'd been buying more convenience foods. He's taken to packing a lunch on gym days to help him avoid the temptation of both French fries and the cake counter in the university cafeteria. Tuesdays and Thursdays, for his department working lunch, and the lunch he has with the students he's supervising, they all walk to the VTC and eat in the cafe there. It's only ten minutes from campus, has a totally different menu whilst still being affordable for students, and as more people learn of its existence, it's generating more income for an organisation he wholeheartedly supports.

It also makes it easier to make healthy choices. Phil's new GP had also commented on the weight around his middle, a round belly being far less healthy than the muscular shoulders of his youth. He's supportive of Phil's desire to make smaller sustainable changes building a healthy new routine, and, rather than setting a goal on the scales, his goal is to get back to a thirty-four inch waist like he had in his thirties. As the doctor said, it's not the number on the scales, it's what you do with it, and he doesn't want any muscle Phil builds to discourage him. The VTC GP's also have the ability to write notes on your cafe log, the staff won't take away choices, but they'll prompt healthier options. 

The last time he was in he'd wanted a cool drink after a workout, his reflexive request for a milkshake prompted an offer of a strawberry and yoghurt smoothie instead. The resulting drink had been all but identical in flavour, the staff member had shown him the menu cards, by avoiding ice cream he'd saved himself three hundred calories, halved the fat and sugar, gained fiber and vitamins from a drink made with real strawberries and banana, and still consumed the same amount of protein.

He'd told his family at dinner in bemused amazement. Both his children like milkshakes after their sports, together they've found smoothie shops near venues and checked menus for extras the VTC wouldn't add. Rather than cutting calories, which they need, both teens now get large yoghurt and fruit smoothies instead of medium milkshakes. He realises it's what Mav is preaching, you don't have to be perfect, or give things up, you just try to be one swap better. 

From Phil's perspective, the best part is that those he eats with haven't noticed. The VTC cafe has a menu that's very adaptable, rather than being a restaurant with set dishes. The staff just alter things based on whether you need more or less food. Phil can order his favourite southern fried chicken salad, get a bowl that looks amazing, and the staff will have oven baked the chicken, removed the croutons and breadsticks, replacing them with oven baked sweets potato wedges, and dressed the whole thing in a yoghurt based dressing that tastes just like ranch. Casually removing a whopping two hundred and fifty calories that he doesn't even miss. He's been taking notes for home cooking and Mav's recipe book is great.

By the time Phil's back downstairs Tom and Mav are back in the kitchen and he has to hide his shock at seeing Tom in jeans as he hands over the photos.

“Oh wow, let's have a look.” Mav grins, holding them to his chest protectively.

“I got three sets developed, you've got doubles or triples of all the ones with your family in. I've split the negatives as best as I can as well. I figured with multiple houses you'd want more than one copy. There's also some big prints on order that will go straight to your San Diego address. I knew in the shop that a few of these would need framing, same for ours, so I got them ordered before we risked the negatives getting damaged. Which are all back in the envelopes now, I just chose to get the prints delivered so they didn't get dinged in the RV.”

“Thank you.” The feeling in Mav's words hits like a punch in the gut.

They sit around the table to look at the prints, some are funny, some are cute. Phil identifies the photos he's getting enlarged. One of all three of Tom and Mav's children, looking at the camera perfectly and smiling, each with at least one dragon in their laps, also somehow looking at the camera, and the dragon on Nicholas's inner shoulder has its wings out behind them all.

“Oh gosh Phil. I feel like we should pay Charlie just for taking these, I could try all day and not get that shot.” Mav's very emotional. More so when he finds the photos of the five of them, there's three group shots, in varying degrees of formality that Phil's getting enlarged.

“I called Charlie when we got them, ours are just as good. The staff who do the behind the scenes visits all get photography training. The preserve understands once in a lifetime and given what people pay, they have to get good photos and professional quality cameras.”

“He's not being disadvantaged is he? For taking us in.” Tom asks sharply.

“No, as he said, the staff all get so many tickets a year. His family and friends have already been. They're not allowed to trade tickets for favours, it reduces the attraction to the very wealthy, but the preserve is quite happy for them to be used as charity raffle prizes, school awards etc because it's good publicity for them. Charlie personally loves taking younger children like yours back there because they still find dragons magical, whilst us adults see them as creatures.”

“It was the most amazing opportunity.” Tom tells him.

Megan walks in, heading for the coffee pot. “No, the amazing part was last November when you dropped everything for a stranger. Phil helps all of his promising students get their names out there. We've never seen dragons before but we've had some other amazing trips. Ashley wants to be a palaeontologist because we got to go out to a dig site when she was eight. We've been whale watching several times, that's part of why Sam's interested in acoustics.”

Mav's flushed in response, arms curled around the photographs protectively. 

Phil frowns. “Is there something I did wrong, some custom I broke with the photos?”

“Nothing offensive.” Tom reassures him, moving to start organising the dishes in the oven. “Mav values photographs highly, I know he has a stash of them in his rooms. Vampire social rules have a more complex view on documenting achievements. A vampire would never frame their certificates and pin them on the wall. Similarly photographs that can be seen as bragging are inappropriate in a society home, as is personal artwork. This tends to make our photography and homes very formal. Mav and I compromise, we have that photograph of the children jumping off the log blown up above the fireplace in San Diego.” He gestures to a frame on the bookshelves. “It's unusual for a vampire home as it's relatively informal although it doesn't technically breach the rules. Similarly I allow the children's pictures or certificates to be displayed on the refrigerator which I am told is the human custom?”

Phil smiles in memory of their own fridge over the years. “Yes. That sounds stifling.”

“It keeps things under control. We have a great deal of home made Christmas decorations since that is a human holiday. I also allow the children and us to have whatever we would like in our private rooms.”

“He painted murals on their walls.” Mav smiles softly.

“Posters are tacky.” Tom tells them pointedly. “Anyway, this all leads to Mav being cautious because not all of those photographs are acceptable. Sarah will probably argue that none of them are, she follows the social code more tightly and seeing something that most people cannot is bragging. I will not damage them, Sarah will allow the children to have them in their personal albums, I have made it abundantly clear over the years that she is not to interfere with their private ability to document their own lives.”

“I don't understand, by that definition even a photo of you in uniform is improper, and all of those pictures we took in DC with the President. Graduation photos even. Nevermind not allowing the display of achievements.” Phil is absolutely shocked.

Mav steps in. “It's another bureau twist on clan culture that only hurts vampires. In the past, everything was for the clan. I've read enough diaries to recognise that they celebrated achievements but they framed it in a way that the clan member had done it for the clan. Getting elevated to a master craftsman would be the cause for a huge party, because it brought recognition and strengthened the clan. The person being celebrated would also acknowledge and thank all of those who supported them more than we would today. Vampires were still artists and artisans but duties to the clan, even in painting or music, came ahead of say, paintings to decorate your own home. It wasn't that they didn't do those things, look at the quilts, it's that it was framed differently.” Oliver and the children have slipped in whilst Mav is talking.

“The bureau in a lot of ways tried to replace the clan as the collective unit, which doesn't work for micro achievements at all. So instead of celebrating because your achievements supported the clan, they decided that was a waste of resources. Which it might have been in the gap between the thirteenth amendment and the rollout of the blood banks and refrigeration, but they hang onto a lot of laws from then for no good reason. They're also quite behind in technology. At first almost all photographs were formal because cameras were rare. It took six attempts to get the log photograph, and there's several like that in these dragon pictures as well. So the formality comes back to resources as well. At home we have to work to make a space that works for everyone so we compromise as Tom said. Some of our friends from work are following the same rhythm, having formal and informal parts of their housing, which seems more natural overall. Nobody needs a picture of the baby in the bath on the living room wall, but you can have a nice relaxed photograph of you all on the beach.”

“I like pictures, I like that Phil's house has lots of pictures of things everyone has done. It tells the story of the family.” Ollie adds quietly.

“That it does lad.” Phil gives him a squeeze on the shoulder.

Tom starts to bring breakfast over, Phil is bemused at the variety of dishes. There's a fresh loaf of bread, eggs that look like someone baked an omelette in a muffin tin, fresh avocado and tomatoes, smoked salmon, bran muffins, yoghurt, fruit, and raw granola. Well, he knows that's not what it's called but he can't think of the word.

“Right, the egg bites with mushrooms on top are vegetable, the ones with bacon on top are egg and bacon, green pepper is a bit of everything except mushrooms, all of those have cheese in them, the ones with nothing are plain egg.” Mav tells them.

“Did you make the bread?” Ashley asks.

“Tom made the bread and the muffins. I did the eggs, then we both worked on the rest.”

The kids of course fall on the muffins, Phil gets himself one, they're bran and raisins and not too sweet, reasonably healthy.

“Can someone pass the muesli?” Mav asks, reminding him of the name of the dish.

Phil turns three of the everything but mushroom egg bites into a sandwich. Mav's eating the vegetable ones off his plate with smoked salmon and the fresh vegetables, a bowl of fruit, yoghurt and muesli next to him to balance out the meal.

Ollie is sipping the apple juice the meal came with like he's not sure if he likes it or not, both vampires have formula although neither of them are much interested in it, fortunately the insulated bottles keep it good for a while. Sam copies Phil's sandwich trick with the egg and bacon bites, whilst Megan's done the same with plain eggs and salmon. 

Ashley sticks to muesli. “Can I put milk in this instead of yoghurt?”

“Of course.” Tom darts off to the fridge and is back in an instant. It's a cosier meal than dinner, although it's pure fact that the pizza's wouldn't fit on this table, they're all a bit jammed in, the vampires not having plates lets them perch on the ends of the table.

“I spoke to the Howards, once we've eaten we'll clear up and head over there. Glen, or Gina, George wasn't clear, anyway, there's a buyer due at ten to look at some of the horses. Depending on what they're interested in I might get asked to go over, or Mav. A horse that can be handled by a vampire is a positive for some buyers, or just being sane when Mav isn't. Anyway, you can watch from the other side of the ring if you want but we'll mostly be seeing the other animals and we'll get you in with the horses later on, probably after lunch.”

“How is Mav insane?”

“I grew up trick riding and depending on the horse I can still throw a few moves. Sounds like they might have someone looking at Rascal and Snowball. They're two relatively young stallions, full brothers and sons of Glen's main horse Cash. Rascal's too green for me, Snowball is eight this year I think, he's sweet for a stallion. Glen was planning on keeping him and selling Rascal so he's fully trained.”

“And he's not planning that now?”

“Rascal’s temperament is more like Cash's, Glen likes a bit of character. But Snowball's fully trained and been out on the circuit so he's worth, heck, I don't really know, but definitely into five figures. He won the state championships last year.” Mav explains.

Sam whistles. “For a horse?”

“Glen acts like Cash is just his ranch stud. He's won the NFR tie down roping twice with Glen's son Gary on board. I know for a fact Glen's turned down half a million for him, and says he's already made more than that off Cash. Snowball has the skills to go that far but Gary has his full sister, two years older, Faith, who he prefers.”

“Your mate really does play the grey man doesn't he? I remember some of my students talking about Gaz Howard and Glen never even mentioned it.” Phil's amazed.

“It's not that he's not proud, their house is covered in prizes. It's that Glen's been building up a stud that's been in the family for generations. It's only in the last ten years really that it's gone from having a reputation for solid ranch horses and the occasional barrel racer, to breeding at this level. I've looked at the magazines when I'm staying there. Cash is in the top ten quarter horse stallions in the country for performance offspring. The purebred crowd are mad keen on his foals. He's protecting his investments because nobody who Glen doesn't know comes up to the ranch or knows where it is. You're not horse people so it's different.” Mav shrugs.

“What about the non-purebred crowd?” Megan asks shrewdly.

“There's an ugly old appaloosa stallion Cowboy. Glen had some of his mares covered, you'll see the babies, they're all yearlings now. Well that's who Glen says he recommends to those who only care about performance output and want something proven and affordable. There's bigots twice over though since Cowboy’s owner is a native.”

They both shake their heads at that. Once they've eaten and cleared the dishes they get ready to go, Ollie looking awkward in a pair of Sam's jeans. It surprises Phil, his skateboarding pants are black denim yet regular jeans are something they've not had to address before. At least it's stopped raining although the sky remains grey.

“OK, who's coming with me on the quad?” Mav's putting on a set of goggles.

“Me!” Sam volunteers, then looks back like he's not sure if he's allowed to.

Phil smiles and waves his son on, Mav passes him a set of goggles. The rest of them all climb in the truck. Phil once again calibrates wealth in his head, this is a very good truck to be a holiday runabout, even if it's not new.

 

~~~~~

 

Megan looks around as she climbs out of the truck down at the main ranch. It looks exactly like you'd expected, white houses, red and white barns and outbuildings, white pasture railings that give way to wire, a riding ring and a load of small pens and races. Mav and Sam are already here, chatting to an older couple.

“Phil, Megan, Ollie, Sam, Ashley, this is George and Mary Howard, Glen and Gina's parents.” Tom introduces everyone. Megan exchanges handshakes then watches bemused as Tom and Mary trade long hugs.

“It's good to meet you all. Tommy says none of you have been out to a working ranch before?” George asks. Megan hides a smile, Tommy, how long have they known the vampire?

“Yes, we had the children out to hobby farms as youngsters but we live in Tacoma so this is a completely different culture. We've not been around horses beyond the odd pony ride at a zoo or fair either. Ollie met his first cat in November, and whilst he's met dogs since that's about it for common animals.”

“I pet a deer, a gopher, and dragons.” Ollie protests.

“Sasha still wants to audition for the live action version of Cinderella then?” George remarks dryly.

Tom nods.

“Well, Glen and Gina are with the buyers, so Gary and Georgia will take you around the place, then you're all up here for lunch, you youngsters need some meat on your bones and poor Mav's always half starved.” Mary tells them.

They greet their guides, Georgia looks to be around thirty, where Gary is in his early twenties with an easy smile that makes Ashley turn shy, which is amusing. In the last year she's started to notice men like that for the first time. Ollie however, is totally distracted by a big orange cat.

“That's Tango.” Georgia supplies. The young vampire picks him up. Megan is feeling slightly betrayed by their own cat Smudge, who has decided that Ollie is his new favourite person.

“I like cats.” Ollie remarks.

“What do you think about chickens? Whilst we've got you youngsters I thought we could get the eggs.”

“Did you know that a chicken is the closest living relative of a T-Rex?” Ashley asks Georgia.

“No?” 

Megan smiles as her daughter launches off into dinosaurs. There are several chicken coops in a fenced off area surrounding a duck pond. The coops are arranged to the sides and each has an outdoor run with a gate so that chickens can alternate space in the pond.

“So, the left side is Rhode Island Reds, the right side is Americuunas, and on the far side are ducks and turkeys.” Gary tells them.

“Ducks! Do you eat them?” Ashley is shocked.

“Yes, they're runner ducks, they produce eggs and meat.”

“I always thought duck was dark turkey meat that the Chinese takeaway rebranded to sound exotic.” Megan's daughter turns pink as she speaks. This is why they have come to a farm, she is not unaware that the children have quite privileged lives.

“No, two different animals, the eggs will be in the nesting boxes.” Sam starts looking at the trees. “Come on, I'll show you.” Gary leads the three teenagers through the gate, she and Phil stay outside with Georgia.

“So how are you getting around seclusion for Ollie, Tommy seems really adamant about it.” Georgia asks.

Phil coughs. “He's eighteen, he escaped on his birthday last year.”

“Do you believe that?”

“We have no choice, and legally it's not worth questioning. Medically, he could be a year younger, but no more than that. He's too calm, multiple vampires have said as much, for him to be as calm as he was last November the youngest he could be was seventeen or extremely close to it. Every record the factory had, the police raided it so it's not just what they packed Ollie off with, puts him at eighteen.” Phil shrugs. It is something they've discussed extensively with Mike, being legally eighteen is a huge advantage for Ollie right now, it lets him live with them and start to make a life for himself, questioning it will only harm him.

“We all thought Tommy was baby faced when he came and he was twenty two. He said it was because of the lack of beard, but he still looks younger now.”

“Vampires and claims can live a little longer from what I've been told, and stay healthier longer. Well those that don't die young anyway. There's no real modern figures for claims, the global guess is ten years on average more than local life expectancy, but the data pool is tiny. Vampires easily make a hundred, but one hundred twenty is ancient.” Phil expands.

They chat a little, Georgia's a horse trainer as well, but she had her first child last summer so she's been taking it steady and isn't involved in the sale. They might need Gary though, or Tom or Mav wherever they've vanished off to.

Megan smiles as her children enjoy collecting the eggs, they're turning it into an Easter egg hunt of sorts. Ollie is taking it extremely seriously one moment, then getting distracted petting and holding the chickens the next. Gary has handed all the children the hens that like to be cuddled, and explained how to identify roosters. He comes over to join them after letting the ducks out into the pond.

“Are you sure you're both OK helping us, you're not needed at the barn?” It seems like a big deal to Megan.

“They're looking at Snowball, Todd can ride him as well as anyone.” Gary sounds glum.

“You like him?”

“Not enough, that's the problem. Faith my mare, it's effortless with her. Snowball, we just don't click, we make it work but it's not the same. Still I took him all over last year when it became clear that dad wanted Rascal. We know him, we want the best for him, and that means kicking him out of the only home he's known and that doesn't seem right. Best I stay with you and not ruin anything.”

“It gets easier Gary. You know Mom and Uncle Glen wouldn't sell him into a bad spot. It's Brad and Cooper looking at him. I've been round their place, he'll still be out on the range a lot, good big pasture. Mom said they want to be sure he won't wind up in a show barn after a lifetime with his herd.”

“He probably thought he was set, the youngster's go all the time but he's an adult.”

“He's moving two states away and will have several lady friends. They're probably taking some of the youngsters as well.”

Megan listens to them chat, realising she's looking side to side like it's a tennis match. The teens finish collecting eggs, and they all head into a low building where there are heat lamps set up and a dozen young chicks, still yellow and fluffy.

“They're so cute, what do you call them?” Ashley asks, they're allowed to cuddle the young birds.

“We don't name the chickens, or the cows, well the milk cows and the bull have names, we don't name things we're going to eat.” Georgia tells them.

Ashley puts her chick down and scoots away. “How can you do that? How can you raise them and then, then!”

“By giving them the best life we can until that point. If we weren't going to eat them, they'd never be born. You've seen that we have nice coops, they have space and perches and get time out in the field by the pond. We give them good food and keep them safe from predators. If you live on a ranch you grow up learning the difference between pets, working animals, and livestock. There's four generations on the ranch right now, we'll hatch several batches of chickens, as well as ducks and turkeys over the course of a year.” Georgia explains calmly. The boys aren't bothered but they aren't much interested in the chicks anyway.

They move on to a larger building slightly further out.

“This is the cow barn, we have four milk cows. I'll show you how it used to be done by hand, and you can all have as much of a go as you'd like, but we've got a machine so no need to kill yourselves over it.” Gary explains. 

He opens the pasture gate and four black and white cows walk in, settling into stalls and eating the food Georgia scoops into their troughs. A pleasing example of a well established routine.

“This is Daisy, Maisey, Dora, and Flora, they're Holstein cows kept solely for milk production. We prefer these as they're big enough to put the Angus or Longhorn bulls to, which saves on funds. The ice-cream stands use Jersey's and we had a couple but they're too small for our bulls so we traded them. Milk cows have a calf every two years. Dora and Flora both have very young calves, we won't milk them this morning so the babies have enough. Then we split them up after lunch and get our milk in the evening, there's not much yet as we want it going into the calves, we'll take a bigger cut in another month once the calves start eating grass. Daisy and Maisy's calves are weaned, so we get all of their milk, the supply will reduce, then they dry off once the next calf is due.”

“Can we pet them?” Ollie asks softly.

“Yes, come around here and I'll show you.” Georgia tells him, they all go around. Megan discovers that cows have surprisingly wet noses, and that these four all seem to like ear scratches. It's nice to interact with some of the farm's more permanent residents.

Gary clanks about setting up equipment, milk cans and a long octopus like machine further out, then a low stool and some immaculately clean buckets. He cleans the udders of the two cows that need milking and they all wash their hands in the sink. Then he sits on the stool.

“Right, a cow has one udder with four teats, you have to milk all four when you're taking all the milk, when we're only taking part we always take it from the back two and leave the front two for the calf. Assuming the calf doesn't figure out the routine anyway, then we have to alternate.”

“That happens?” Phil asks disbelievingly.

“Oh yes, cows are smarter than you'd think, especially ones that get handled a lot, we halter train our milk cows and bulls, and any show stock, not so much the rest of the herds. The longhorns get Willey if you keep roping them.”

“Do they like being milked?” It's something Megan's always wondered.

“I don't know if like is the right word. They appreciate the release of the pressure. If a heifer ever refuses to come in, we just leave her. She'll be right by the gate when the next milking is due. They like the food, attention, and routine. They will let you know if you hurt them, it's hard to do by hand, they tend to fidget and tell you, but if the machine isn't right they will kick it off. It's why I have a stash of buckets, we'll swap them every quarter bucket so if the cow kicks we don't waste milk. If one goes to the bathroom, we have to discard that milk as well, although we tend to set it near the calves if it's not obviously soiled, little splatters won't bother them, you saw the udders, they turn their noses up if it's too dirty.”

Megan nods, Gary goes on to demonstrate how to squeeze the teats to get the milk. “So, who's first?”

Ashley goes for it. “It's not coming out?”

“No, you have to squeeze quite hard and tug downwards.” Gary wraps his hand over hers demonstrating. Ashley's getting a bit pink in the face. Phil studiously looks away. Megan hides a smile. Her husband has been extremely careful of her, terrified to pass on the claim. Things got better when Mav passed on copies of the US Military protocols for handling the masks and other equipment used by vampire pilots, the tests they'd run on Mav, Mav's protocols, and those for other humans. It has been an interesting read, even if it had required Phil translating some of the more complex data for her.

It has led to changes at home, mostly to accommodate Ollie safely. An adult vampire's venom is one of the most addictive substances on the planet. Ollie's spit, snot and sick all contain enough of it to create a claim. His blood and sexual fluids will also pass the claim on, although those claims are believed to be technically different. The how is scientific academia, every record they have indicates that in practice, the claim works the same way. Fortunately, a vampire's digestive tract neutralises the venom, and whilst the Navy doesn't rate their waste as inert, they don't see that there's any risk in sharing ablutions or microscopic splashes. It turns out bathrooms are even more disgusting than Megan ever knew. Mind she also now knows that you can't get claimed from a vampire's sweat, tears, or earwax, it's been an odd year.

The good part is that Ollie likes red, and most household items are available in Target's signature colour. Megan will be happier when he moves into the garage apartment but for now everything is segregated and Ollie has to wash his own bottles and anything else he eats off. The files did have the numbers for how many parts of venom per part of fluid, but they went a bit over her head. There have been illegal claims before from kissing vampires, that's how most of the people the VTC had to deal with were claimed, many of them had been riding their luck dating a vampire consensually. Angie from San Diego, who has actually met other claims, wrote to Phil and Ollie with the theory that in his stress, at either jumping or nearly drowning, the young vampire's fangs had dripped venom, then when Phil cut his lip he got a drop of it, not just in his mouth, but directly into his bloodstream. 

Whether this was bad or good luck, Megan is no longer sure. If the claim hadn't taken she thinks Ollie would have found that higher bridge. She's fond of the youngster. He's nothing like the monster her mind had wanted to paint him as. She's more than fond of her husband and thankfully the files proved that he's far less contagious. Not having venom himself, nothing in Phil's face or digestive system can pass on the claim. Well maybe if she drank over a pint of spit whilst he was high, but the risk is so low that the military doesn't have a protocol for it. Whatever it is in Ollie's blood and semen is now in Phil and Mav's though. However, even that is not as scary as it first sounds, unlike venom, the claim cannot be absorbed through blood or semen on her skin. Only if they get into her eyes, mouth, genitals, or an open wound. They have to be careful, and Phil is still very leary of intimacy, but he's safer to be around than you'd first expect.

Megan wants to get back to intimacy. It's almost common knowledge that vampire venom melts latex. Fortunately for their sanity, the VTC has done trials and figured out which latex free prophylactics will still do the job. They'd been looking into it from a birth control perspective and think there might actually be more options for claims as there's only one set of venomous fluids in the equation. Not that Phil has allowed her to road test them yet. He's been diligent, when they're at home of course, not in the RV, using his hands, mouth, and a couple of newly acquired toys on her in very pleasant ways. Still, she wants to make him feel good, not lay in the bed sated whilst he locks himself in the bathroom.

It makes the cow milking unintentionally funny. She's horny she realises, weeks on the road with teenagers and an unfulfilling few months before they left. Nothing to do about that round here. Poor Ollie turned into a tomato the first morning he greeted them at breakfast after they'd tried anything since he moved in. Phil quietly bought him a set of vampire rated noise cancelling headphones to go with his Walkman. The teenager is working his way through their CD collection. They don't know if he hears them or smells them, but they do what they can since he's clearly much more sensitive. The sooner that apartment is done the better for everyone's sanity.

Sam swaps with Ashley but doesn't last long, then Ollie swaps in, the teen takes a few strokes to find the rhythm of it then coos. Which is such an odd noise, Megan instantly wants to figure out what else will prompt it.

“We should have predicted that let me get the other stool and the two of you can have a go on Daisy's other side.” Georgia tells them.

“Why?”

“Monty, Tom, Sasha and Nicky all love milking the cows, Petey’s hands aren't quite big enough yet. There's something about how you have to squeeze the teats that they find pleasant. I don't understand it. Tom likes kneading bread and the children like clay and mud and cookie dough. Squishing is good somehow?” Georgia shrugs. Megan makes a mental note of it. They normally keep the occasional little vampires in her class away from messy crafts and sand tables to stop them licking things, but if squishing is good they might need to figure out how to supervise them safely.

They release the other two cows back out to their calves, who are both tiny knock kneed creatures that run over mooing their heads off. Ashley awws over them like she has done every other animal.

“What will happen to them?” She asks Georgia.

“They're both heifers so that gives us more options. Male cross breeds just go into the field with the beef cows. We'll see how these ladies grow up. You've seen that the milk cows are fairly boney, they're bred to optimise milk production. Meat cows carry more body weight so it's worth letting these two grow, and, if they're lean, have a first calf. If they're good milkers we'll sell them on to a smaller setup, a lot of small farms and homesteads prefer proven results over perfect paperwork. Uncle Glen and Todd are a bit more flexible than you'd think for farmers. The beef cows are pure cash crops, especially with the Farm to Freezer scheme. The longhorns, dairy cows, and horses, and any kittens or puppies we wind up with, they prioritise getting them into a good setup at a fair price rather than getting top cash value.”

“Does that work out economically?” Phil asks.

“Out here, yes. This is a tight knit community. Folks trade and barter and lend a hand. The competition circuit, the good guys on it are the same way. You can tell who is only in it for the money. We don't take a huge loss or anything, but especially for the horses taking five or ten percent off to get them into a good spot is something we consider. I know Todd had one horse on a payment plan a few years ago for a kid who just fell in love. There's three kids in that family, they board the horse at the lesson barn in town and do a bit of everything with him. He'd have been a terrible breeding stud, but gelded, he's worth his weight in gold to that family. When the Farm to Freezer scheme started up, they were one of the first customers and they've ordered every year since. There's more to life than your bank balance.”

“Easy to say when you've got all this.” Phil mutters. Megan hides a smile, she remembers when the children were small and only half the house had a good roof. Things got better once Phil was granted tenure and they could take out a small mortgage to pay for the big repairs. Now it's paid off and the house is worth an ever increasing amount. It's home though, and fortunately big enough for a family that is growing in an unexpected direction.

“None of this is ours. We're tenant farmers, the clan owns the ranch, we technically own the animals and the modern machinery but that's it. Luckily we have a very reasonable landlord who only occasionally decides to cause chaos by deciding we need firebreaks along the driveway.”

“What prompted that? I've seen the papers on the implementation but nobody ever explained why.”

“I don't rightly know, beyond the fact that there'd been some bad fires further north and Tommy's worried over the cabin being made of wood. It's created a load of jobs though, and the breaks have already contained a few small blazes so folks are reconciling themselves to them.”

“Are they so sanguine about the beavers? This is the only place I've read about in the US that has had such rapid success with them.”

“Chat to Aunty Sue, I know she said you were planning on it. From my perspective yes, because they were clever with it. Even more than the fire breaks, the beaver dams have had terrific success with the wild fires. There are still some who complain. Mostly salty old hunters who refused to take up the support to retrain as park rangers or guides. They like to hang around the gun range and complain about change. For me, about two thirds of my class left the county to go to college and planned to never come back. Now, all but four are home and working, most of them moved back with spouses and either brought kids, or are planning on having some. It used to feel like unless you had a farm or ranch the only thing to do was leave. Places were empty. Now we're building more homes, recruiting people. My Todd's from Texas, we met on the circuit, he moved up here when we got engaged because there's better prospects here. So folks are loosely positive about the beavers, but very positive about everything else that's changing, which makes them easy to accept.”

Phil nods. It's giving Megan a lot to think about as well. Her students and colleagues are not always the most sanguine about change, the idea of it being a holistic process is interesting, it clearly stops folks getting hung up on any single aspect.

When they head inside Ollie is finishing Daisy's other side and Glen has the milking machine set up for Maisy. Once the milking is done they turn the cows loose and head to a small building at the back of the main house with the milk churns.

“Right, this is the dairy. We do a couple of quick tests, then strain the milk and leave it to settle in those smaller churns in the fridge. We get milk, cream, and butter from our cows, although we're not making butter today as it's not the right time of year to get the best results.” Gary explains. He talks them through the tests, the milk is sieved and then set into the fridge.

“Do you make cheese?” Megan asks.

“We can, those wooden things up on the shelves are cheese molds. Grandma used to do it but most of us prefer working with the horses, there's a couple of cheesemakers in the scheme and small scale cheese production is hard. I made some when I was pregnant and couldn't ride. I've not made more since we finished it though. Grandma found fulfilment in being a farmers wife and mother, we all prefer to be more hands on, although we are keeping her gardens up. Homegrown veg is just better. I can show you if you'd like?”

“Sure.”

“Let's go, most of the plants are young this time of year.” They follow Georgia out. The gardens are extensive, numerous polly tunnels, raised beds, and ground level beds growing everything you can think of, there's also an orchard where old trees mix with new and several beehives. This is what self sufficiency looks like, Megan realises, and scaled for multiple households as well, there are four large houses on site, and low buildings, log cabins repurposed from a motel, where extra ranch hands can stay.

“Do you grow your own vegetables?” Georgia asks.

“We have fruit trees and grow potatoes. We didn't set out to, but the kitchen scraps went on the compost with the lawn clippings and they sprouted. So now come spring we chop the eyes out a little bigger and plant them up in tubs. As long as you don't regrow your regrowns they don't come down with blight and having them in tubs makes them easy to harvest. I can't grow much else in our climate though. Tacoma is rather wet, I tried tomatoes but they just don't get going fast enough.” Phil shrugs.

“You grow sunflowers, dad, and sweet peas.” Ashley interjects.

“Because they're your mom's favourite and good for the pollinators. We don't eat them. I'd like to grow more.” It's something Phil has been saying for almost as long as he's been talking about fixing up the apartment over the garage.

“I can see why the climate would be an issue. If you've got the space I'd go with a squash or two, they need water and don't all have to ripen.” Georgia offers.

Phil hums thoughtfully. “We’d eat them, I just struggle to justify buying a pack of seeds for one or two plants.

Gary coughs. “At the risk of sounding like an advertisement, ask my dad for a brochure for Green means Grow. They ship out starts and you can order as many or as few as you like. They have different bundles. From what I understand the whole business started up for just that problem, initially for local folks. It was a few of the Llanhilleth families, one would start tomatoes and another zucchini or whatever then they'd all swap them about. It had been going on for years, then one of the kids, Mel from my class, asked about a couple of acres too steep to build on and wrote a business case. Now they ship starts, or mixed seeds for folks who are would rather have a pack of five seeds of five different plants. She's going into her third year and is just starting to open up to out of state orders.”

Phil nods. It surprises Megan again. “There's a lot of independent businesses here, we noticed yesterday, and all Tom talks about are small firms like the one you just mentioned. People talk about California and tech or ig agricultural corporations, this is all different though.”

“It's the central fund, you want Dad or my brother Greg to explain it. The short of it is that they're happy to invest to help businesses that are outgrowing their current setup grow. Less for people starting from scratch unless they've already got a trade. People like Mel though, or the dairy that started the ice cream shops and the Farm to Freezer scheme, businesses that have taken a home business as far as they can, that's where the fund steps in. I don't think most normal lenders do, or people finish up with higher interest loans right in the spot where scaling up doesn't quite pay at first, the fund smooths the transition. It favours the fund in the long run of course, but it's also meeting the long term goal to build the population here and reduce the dependence on imported everything. Not to mention the big corporations driving family farms out of business drives Grandpa wild, he's been fighting to keep them away his whole life. Only the fact nobody could get the sales signed off worked at first. Now we have Tom and he ain't signing anything.”

“Do you think it's working?”

“Yes. I don't really know how, there's so much changing and lots of kids still want to get out, but they're coming back after college or after the military, at least according to dad. I know the school classes are bigger, I see it when we go to watch the games. I only ever wanted to be a rancher. Greg though, he never wanted to, somehow Dad and Tom have fixed things so he won't have to, he can make a good life out here doing all of that business stuff that he's good at. Growing up he thought he'd have to leave and he doesn't. Same with my little sister Grace, she's at vet school, by the time she graduates we'll have a vet hospital in Llanhilleth, she can do what she wants here without trying to shoe in on someone else's round. We've always had two vets, the population is growing so much that the hospital wants at least five.”

It leaves them all thoughtful as they head to the horse barn.

There's still no sign of Tom and Mav, but they sit on the bank on the far side of the riding ring and watch the horses. Apparently the handsome black horse is Snowball, being ridden by Cooper, whilst Georgia's husband Todd rides a chocolate brown animal with a black mane and tail. They are working together, initially to organise some long horn cows, splitting them off or moving the group, then some younger horses.

“What is he looking for?” Megan asks, she can't imagine you can assess a horse much whilst you're trying to separate the brown cows from the spotty ones.

“Partnership, connection. Horses get to know cows, and they develop preferences in how to move them to a certain extent. Copper needs to know how Snowball thinks, and if they can gel, he's a rancher more than a competitive rider. Brad's the opposite, they're brothers not,” Gary trails off with a shrug. “Anyway, horses only last so long on the circuit so it makes sense to see if they both like him. Snowball's quite busy minded, that's why we don't click, he needs to work, needs to be riding out between shows, always looks in the ring for the next cow. Faith's more my speed, if I put her out for a fortnight she comes in like she's never been away. Snowball doesn't.”

“Mav implied that he was very lazy, that your dad likes Rascal better?” Phil interjects.

“It's not lazy. Rascal’s flashier, and he's bigger, Snowball's a good size, but Rascal’s taller and a little broader. Snowball is busy because he's reactivate, but he doesn't think about what's next by himself and Dad likes independence.”

They both nod, not that Megan thinks Phil understands any better than she does. What does very quickly change is the way Cooper and Snowball are moving together. Things go from looking stilted to seamless.

“See Gary, I told you it'll work out.” Georgia interjects. Cooper ropes a couple of cows, then swaps with Brad who rides a fancy swirling pattern then ropes a couple more. The loose cows don't come back, but the younger horses do.

“I didn't think Dad was looking to sell the yearlings, or some of those two year olds?” Gary mutters with a frown.

“They're babies Gary, there's probably only Bounty that's guaranteed to stay if they offer enough for the rest.” Georgia turns to them. “It costs a good bit to raise a horse to four and start it under saddle. We don't let them go to people who will start them too soon, or try to flip them but we do have folks who we will sell to, the ones who believe in starting them slowly. There's always a risk with youngsters and money in the bank is a sure thing.”

“Why would people take them young?” Megan can't see it.

“Breeding, and looks. Also a lot of places geld colts at two, so if you want a stallion you have to take them younger.”

“Geld?”

“Castrate. It's a kindness, a lot of stallions live lonely lives and gelding horses later can leave them acting like it's not been done. We used to breed five foals a year, for the last two years it was eight and then ten last year and again this year although they're not all here yet. Since I turned eighteen that's almost ninety horses. I don't remember the numbers before then. Cash is the only stallion I remember us keeping in my late teens. Anyway out of that, forty were colts. Nine grew up to be stallions, Snowball, Rascal, Mars who is Hershey's son by Jonny, Chet, and Hank stayed here, the other three have gone, sold on a bit later like Snowball will be. The rest were all either gelded before we sold them, or bought young and gelded at the appropriate time. Geldings are mostly calm and steady, they make excellent horses. Unless you're serious about breeding you don't need a stallion. Safer for everyone to geld the colts.”

“Like cats.” Megan mutters.

“Like most animals. You can't spay a mare, gelding the males means they can all live together.”

“Do you have many geldings here?”

Georgia and Gary both visibly think hard. “There's Bobby, but he's Todd's old horse, we didn't breed him. Still, you don't sell your buddies and that was a condition of Todd agreeing to move in with me. Not that anyone would have said otherwise, he was still a working horse then as well. As a rule we don't keep geldings because this is a stud and we have about sixty horses already. Sometimes geldings come in for training. Go to a lesson barn though and they tend to dominate. I learnt to ride on one here, an old pony who was really semi-retired. Grandpa took him in because his owner was going to send him off to auction. He lived to be thirty, we never sell the old horses. Younger ones with a life ahead, but never the ones that give us everything. It's a good job we have the land really. We're more hard-hearted with the cattle, but we can also eat them, we're not shipping them off to who knows where.”

“I didn't think people still used lasos, I thought it was just the movies?” Sam asks as Brad ropes a calf and ties its legs together. Moving them onto a more cheerful topic.

“Nope, sometimes the old ways are still the best. I can show you on foot if you'd like?” Gary offers. They're all keen, following him around to the far end of the barn where a couple of dummy cows are located.

Gary and Georgia make it look easy, roping the dummy cows and the teenagers to much laughter, then showing them how to throw the ropes before handing them over. They're stiffer than Megan imagined, and prone to coiling up like a telephone lead. Sam picks it up fast, all of that baseball translating, Gary gives him more advice. The rest of them are lucky there's no chance they'll need to do this for real anytime soon. Ashley can get the swing but struggles to send the rope out far enough, Phil can throw but not aim, Oliver is tying himself in knots but grinning. Megan stops before she hurts her shoulder, she dislocated it badly as a teenager falling on some ice and her Dad popped it back in to save on a hospital trip, it took forever to come right. Scans as an adult show that the ligaments had been badly damaged and any new movement takes a long while to master. She tows the cow on wheels along for Sam instead.

Mav comes flying up the road on his quad, whooping when Sam catches him with the rope as he's nearly stopped. “Nice one!”

“We thought you'd got lost?” Georgia remarks.

“No, sorry. Your horse buyers said there was a tree down almost blocking the drive. So George sent Mitch and Mitch called back and it's more like eight trees, one of the pines went and fell into the strand of black cottonwoods in that little ravine. We got roped into pulling them out and getting them hauled up for firewood. All the branches are up, Tom, Mitch, and Greg have gone back with the tractor and the trailer to pull the trunks out.”

“Do you need us to help?” Phil offers.

“No, it's all sorted really. Good workout for Tom more than anything. He's seriously strong and rarely gets to let go safely, ripping branches off fallen trees is good for him.”

“Could he not do it another weekend?” It seems like poor hosting manners to Megan, Cooper and Brad got a horse trailer up this morning, the drive must be serviceable enough.

“Firebreaks only work if they're clear love.” Phil tells her.

“Anyway, Mary says lunch is ready whenever we want it.” Mav tells them.

Megan's surprised how quickly the morning has gone by. “Do we not need to wait for the others?”

“The log collectors will be back in about fifteen minutes. George says we'll not wait on these guys, they could easily be another hour yet.”

They have a few more goes with the ropes, then head to the house when they hear the tractor coming back. Megan had noticed it was leaving but hadn't really paid it any mind, a tractor on a ranch is not worth noticing. By the time they're all washed up and helping move the last of the things to the table they're being introduced to Greg and reintroduced to Sue and Mitch. Georgia has slipped off upstairs to nurse her son who seems like a bright happy child. Lunch is chicken pot pie with a biscuit crust, there are plenty of vegetables and jacket potatoes to go alongside.

George says Grace and they all dig in, the food is delicious, home made and hearty. Talk flows easily. George and Mary have some hilarious stories of Tom and Mav as younger men. It reassures Megan both that vampires really are that clueless sometimes and that they're not doing too badly after all. Mav looks like a tomato, but mostly she feels sorry for him. Young Tom had clearly been on some form of power trip, and Mav's own life had been changed overnight. If they can make it work, she's a lot more certain Phil and Ollie will be fine.

Offers to help clean up are brushed aside, Greg seems very determined that he will do the dishes to avoid any outdoor activities, much to his brother and cousin's amusement. Phil goes off with Sue to talk about things from a more scientific perspective. Megan finds herself smiling fondly, it's nice that there's someone here who can answer those types of questions. Phil's interested in ecological restoration and that seems to be what the park is all about.

The rest of them head to the barn, Gary goes to say goodbye to Snowball, his new owners are about ready to load up. Georgia grabs some halters and a pail of brushes and takes the rest of them out to the pasture. 

“Now normally we'd do this in the barn, but we'll let the folks over there finish up and eat. Part of riding is caring for your mount, you can both learn a lot about each other before you get on. Now, since the fillies are careening around like mad things I'll go and catch you the horses we'll use, if you wait under that stand of trees we'll hitch them there to brush.” The trees are a clump either side of the trail, but not inside the pasture fence. The animals selected seem happy enough to get away, except for one chestnut mare who hangs her head low.

“OK, before you all ask, this is Tammy, we are not riding her, she's just here so I can fuss her. What you didn't see over lunch is that she was brought in to say goodbye to her daughter. Now, her daughter is just turned two, and whilst they lived in the paddock together, they weren't particularly close, however, she's clearly telling us that she's a bit upset. Time will fix it, but coming in for something nice and easy after coming in for something hard helps.”

Megan can sort of understand that. “Are many of the horses upset? Did you sell a lot?”

“We sold Snowball, three two year olds from this pasture, which is why the fillies are upset, and two four year olds, a mare and a gelding just ready to start under saddle although they were both in a different herd, a profitable morning.”

“Are the parents of the other youngsters not sad?”

“They both had babies in the last month, so they're off with this year's mares and foals. I would never say the mares don't remember their babies, but horses are practical animals, with new foals at foot, they won't want their elder children bothering them.” 

“But Tammy doesn't have a baby?” Megan's no expert but she doesn't look pregnant.

“They carry a foal for eleven months, we were meant to have fifteen this year, five horses miscarried when the mob attacked last year. We were compensated, and to be honest, I think fifteen is too many, but I was busy with Oscar and the guys all got a bit over enthusiastic. We'll be looking at getting things going again in the next couple of months for Tammy. I was hoping to use her today, she's a sensible horse who makes nice babies. Not if she's feeling like this though. Anyway, brushes.” Georgia shows them the basics, it's fairly intuitive, she then goes around checking feet, none of these horses are shod. Apparently sparks from horse shoes hitting rocks are another fire risk.

By the time they're done brushing, the trailer has departed, so Tammy is put back with the herd and they're shown how to lead the horses back to the barn.

“I thought the horses this morning had shoes on?” It's been niggling in Megan's head.

“They do. It depends on the workload, the guys primary mounts all have shoes, Mom and I tend to swap around, so if a horse's feet get ground down we just take a different one, the guys do that as well, on a busy day, if they're working the cows through the races we can ride four horses each. It means someone is basically playing a stable hand to get them all sorted but it stops them getting so tired. Our four year olds have three sets that first summer under saddle as well, so they learn to be good whilst their feet are done. It's part of a solid education. Horse shoes are not cheap though, which is something nobody tells outsiders, a lot of our horses are really brood mares kept in light work to help them maintain manners and condition, they don't need shoes, and it reduces the risk of the horses hurting each other in the pasture.”

“Megan, is Phil not riding with us?” Ollie asks anxiously. Mav is at the barn saddling what looks like the brown and black horse from earlier but Phil's still off with Sue.

Georgia gives her a look, and Megan nods, it's not like Phil's in denial about this problem, she's quite happy that he's finally working on it.

“No, he can't ride any of the horses we have here.”

“Why not?” Oliie sounds offended on Phil's behalf.

“Because a horse can only carry up to twenty percent of its own weight in a rider and equipment, and that's with a well balanced load. With a beginner rider they can only carry fifteen percent. We don't have any horses big enough.” Georgia frames it cleverly, Megan hopes Phil gets back into trim, she knows Tom rides generally, although there's no sign of him and he's taller than Phil though obviously lighter despite being well muscled by vampire standards.

“Where is Tom?” She asks Mav.

“With Phil and Sue, he likes science and he's not a huge fan of riding. Not even when it's his princess Hershey.”

“Is it fair to make her work twice?”

“Twice? I just caught her.”

“She was working this morning.”

“No, that was Mars, her son and Snowball's half brother.” Gary fills in. Megan shrugs, one horse is much like another. The experienced riders tack the horses up, explaining what to look for, and stating simply that if you want to learn to ride properly, learning to do this is part of it, it just takes too long to be worth it today.

They are all given helmets, with a bit of switching about to find the best fit.

“We have them for training young horses, not being a lesson barn, I can't mandate that you wear them. For all they are living creatures capable of anything, I've selected horses I believe to be safe for you to ride. However, helmets can help in an emergency, and they're very useful for protecting you from low hanging branches until you get used to the rhythm of things,” Georgia explains. There are short disclaimers to that effect, that Megan signs for herself and the children, and Ollie signs his own after quickly fishing his blue lens sunglasses out of his pocket. It's a part of American culture that does Megan's head in, but, for all they claim they're not rich, she can see why the Howards want to protect themselves.

They start off in the arena, Georgia has Mav demonstrate the basics. Megan has to make an effort to pay attention to the brief and not just ogle Mav's arse in those chaps. He has a very nice behind and the chaps emphasise it. Georgia tips her a wink. Ashley is all a fluster since Gary put his own chaps on. Fortunately he's a perfect gentleman, not that her daughter has done anything other than turn pink at various points. Once Megan climbs aboard her own horse, a golden coloured mare named Taffy, Megan finds all thoughts of Mav's backside disappear as she tries to concentrate on a myriad of things at once. They walk, then practice steering by weaving around a set of barrels spaced in a line.

“Who would like to try going a little faster?” Gary asks, he and Mav are both mounted. The teens are all keen. One by one the experienced wranglers catch the lead lines on their horses, taking them out for a short jog down the arena and back. It's bouncy, yet rhythmical, she catches Ollie humming a tune and tries it and suddenly everything syncs up. Sam and Ashley both start trying it. Megan's well aware that she's not really doing much, but she's figured out how to bounce in time with the horse, not counter to it.

“That's excellent everyone. You're all managing to move with your horses. If you'd like we could go for a short trail ride up to a nice view and back, it's about an hour round trip?” Georgia offers.

“I'm not going to squish my horse?” Sam asks, they'd had to lengthen his stirrups a lot to incorporate gangly teenaged limbs.

“Nope, you're well below her weight, you, all of you, just need to keep engaging your cores whilst letting your lower back and backside follow the horse, just like you all did when the jogging felt smooth, and you'll be fine.” Georgia mounts her own horse, and takes Megan's lead, as Gary leads Sam and Mav leads Ashley.

“Ollie, you'll be fine on your own, Dolly there is the horse who has been teaching Tom's kids how to ride. We gave her to you as she's the most familiar with vampires. Let her walk behind Hershey and Mav and she'll stay there all day long.” Georgia tells the teen, who nods.

The first part of the trail ride out goes back past the pasture gate and through the strand of trees then it rounds a corner by a smaller field full of odd things.

“Why are there stairs, bridges with no water, and swimming noodles?” Ollie asks what they're all thinking.

“That's our training paddock. Mom and I do obstacle competitions, but it's also a place to bring babies and help them understand how to move. We can walk them up by hand, then do things again under saddle. Horses are prey animals, so their natural reflex is to run away. The more you can teach them that weird stuff will happen, the less they'll react if a pine cone falls on their heads. We want them to react to threats, Hershey killed a mountain lion last year, but we want them to think and react appropriately. The obstacles also help them become more sure footed on a trail, cows will go down the stupidest ravines, a good horse can follow.”

It reminds Megan of some of the phys Ed she does with her students, and she and Georgia pass the next little while talking about developing proprioception in the young. Sam and Gary are talking about baseball, and Mav, Ashley and Ollie are all talking about the rhythm of riding so it's a pleasant journey. They ride along the ridge line that has a view over both the built up valley, and vast open pastures where the cattle graze, then they pass through a gate and start to descend again, following a stream.

The stream opens into a series of dammed pools. “Do you have beavers?” There are young trees, and one side of the pools backs onto the forest.

“No, these were put in in late ninety-seven, they're human built but beaver style. The stream used to run dry, this is part of an experiment to see how we can create the habitat advantages without the mustaloids.” Georgia explains.

There's a sharp snap and a splash. They all look around sharply.

“Hey Georgia, you know those beavers you don't have? What's chewing that tree up and piling sticks over there then?” Mav points, Megan can see a pile of sticks in the middle of a pond. Both Howards are stock still staring. Megan and the others look around. 

Ollie gasps and points. “A beaver is the size of a medium dog and brown and sitting under that plant with the white flowers?”

After sharp vampires eyes have seen it they all manage to spot the creature. “I think they're trying to make a go of it. Mom thought it'd be six or seven years minimum.” Gary mutters. A second beaver surfaces by the first, it's the most sheltered spot until they build a den. To Megan's surprise Gary pulls out a radio and talks to his father.

“That's handy.” She remarks.

“It is on this side of the ridgeline anyway.” Gary shrugs.

They all watch the beavers, moving the horses further down and hitching them up, then going back on foot to sit where they can see the creatures, but far enough that the beavers get on with beavering. Megan is surprised to feel the ache in her legs after what was only a short ride. There's more radio chatter that she doesn't really pay attention to, she's more interested in watching the three teens watch the beavers. This is different to the other animals they've seen this trip, more like whale watching really, you have to be patient. 

Soon a truck rumbles up, there's another cracking noise, a beaver tail slapping the water, and they both dive. Megan looks around to discover that Sue and Glen have driven two trucks up, loaded with the branches of pine and cottonwood from the trees earlier. Everyone is roped into unloading them and leaving them on the side of the pond.

“Is this right?” She asks Phil, who came with Sue, Tom and Gina are oddly absent.

“The pond isn't ready yet, by human standards anyway. Black cottonwood is food, the pine will be pure construction. This is natural local timber, they're trying to give them a head start to let the other plants grow more.” Phil explains.

Sue comes over. “We know very little about beavers, these two are either two year olds who've just left home, or they're a beaver bombing, which is where people dump beavers, believing they are releasing them when the established method isn't working. What is interesting is that they're working on the pond, those sticks on the island are the start of a lodge. We built the bones of something here and they're saying it's good enough to try. That's important. Whilst we can burn the smaller branches, we mostly use the trunk and with eight trees down there's a lot of wood. If we can get the beavers to build with it they should be able to make a real nice place and add to research on an under researched animal.”

Tom and Gina arrive with a high sided third truck, it's full of smaller leafy branches, they must have gone back down the road and loaded it. More work is done to stack branches; the bolder of the two beavers sneaks over and steals a leafy one almost immediately, taking it over to its friend so they can both eat.

Tom crinkles his nose and sniffs. “That's the female, the other is male, he's been scent marking a lot. Assuming they're not siblings, congratulations, it's a beaver.”

They all make groaning chuckles, vampire humor is odd, but it's clear that is meant to be a joke, Ollie finds it hilarious of course. The clouds that have remained present all day start to spit again.

Georgia looks at them all. “It's half an hour back to the barn at the speed you are comfortable riding, or you can catch a lift in the truck and we'll lead the horses back.” Having stiffened up sitting, and with the rain rapidly getting worse, Megan and her children are happy to get back in the trucks. Ollie wants to ride though.

“Ollie, it's not about you, if you go the humans get wetter coming back slower.” Megan points out.

The teen vampire looks gutted, petting Dolly.

“You can come and help us unsaddle her at the barn and give her a nice fuss in the dry?” Gina offers.

“Please.” Ollie grins and climbs in the truck cheerfully. Georgia and Gary look perplexed as they mount up. 

“Horses, a lot of animals really, but horses especially seem calming to vampires. Not sure why but it's not strange to me that Olie wants to hang around the barn. Of all the vampires we've had up here there's only Archie that avoids the horses.” Gina tells them. Then hops in the cab so the riders can get underway, Megan sees them jogging the horses along. The drive back is far quicker, Gina chatting easily.

“Mav said to ask you about church?”

“We'll be heading up at eight in the morning for mass. There's no expectation on you to attend, sleeping in is perfectly normal. We don't ride on Sundays, or work the farm beyond what is needed. The animals still have to eat, and sometimes events happen. But we don't plan on it routinely.”

The three teens demure. “I'd like to come, although we're not Catholic.”

“That's OK, the priests say we're folk Catholics anyway. This far out, a church is a community as much as a religion, there is another newer church in Llanhilleth as well as the original stone church. We call it the new mission church, but they're not affiliated to a bigger congregation. It stems from the period before the thirteenth amendment passed, when the town was a haven for the freed, they had their own beliefs and the community still elects its own ministers. They have a fantastic gospel choir, and cater to those who don't come to the Catholic churches. The land ownership in Thomsonville is very restrictive, Llanhilleth is easier, but a higher proportion of vampires means we've never had a real big population of any non-Christian religion.”

Megan finds it all fascinating. “I love that your new church is older than the thirteenth amendment.”

“Yeah, and the congregation at both churches is probably more mixed than that makes it sound. Some folks converted, and people moving in to work will join one or the other. The artwork they have there is well documented though. In the basement there's a list of the names of everyone who passed through back when the underground railroad was running. The clan had an issue with one chief, once, they exiled him to Europe over that and other things, it made them very pro-abolition.”

“I read the text of the amendment, it likens being claimed to slavery. Look at what the president had to do for Mav and Phil!” There's some disconnect here that she doesn't understand, they drop the teens at the barn, then head into Gina's house to keep talking.

“You have to understand, the amendment was written by the government in DC. They didn't consult the clans. How claims were treated varied enormously globally, it still does. The only constant is the need for venom. By passing the amendment, the law became what it feared. In the clan, claims, and unclaimed humans were respected for their skills, potential, or for the service they'd given to the clan as younger people. Women had the same rights as men. The more you contributed, the better your status, there was no caste system of jobs either, the farmers, sailors, and crafters all knew they needed the others.”

“It sounds utopian.”

“Oh, I'm sure it wasn't as rose tinted as we paint it. Although there are enough records of people with mild to moderate physical or mental disabilities still being well integrated that I know a lot of the scare mongering outsiders talk about didn't happen in this clan. Well, there was one chief but he got thrown out, and the clan returned to their established behaviour.”

Megan thinks she knows what Gina is hinting at. “Then why are there so many stories of vampires killing claims?”

“Because it happened. In other places, maybe illegally or for sport. In the clan here, the records indicate that it was more like the kind of health care that gives doctors ethical problems today. The vampires would act when the medicines the clan had failed. I am not getting into the modern debate, but this was three hundred years ago, and there are still books that are kept locked away that described the way of it. When it was planned, for what we'd now call cancer, or other maladies, including extreme old age, and I'm talking about people in their eighties or more, they would give the claims a venom overdose, it took time for the vampire to produce enough to administer all at once. Unplanned, often at sea, or in cases of trauma, they'd knock the claims out with venom then drain them. I'm not saying it should be legal now, but then, when a gut wound meant dying in agony over multiple days, and cancer months, I can't stand here and tell you they did the wrong thing. Vampires don't give up on resources lightly, I don't think they'd have done either if there was another way. We know they used venom to heal more than to end suffering. The worst dilemmas they wrote about  were children, to save a child with venom meant to claim them before they understood, and children are not food for vampires.”

Megan thinks hard, if life in the clan really was what Gina said, it does seem like things were different. She knows the laws around claims in Europe were brought in more gradually, as science gave other ways to feed vampires, and that the American vampires almost died out, or fled after the amendment passed. They talk more on clan life, and clan history, the role of women in the clan soon becomes more interesting than the worries about the status of claims. Gina has read some funny stories of outsiders who either joined, or moved to the lands as skilled traders, getting a shock at a group who were quite happy with what would now be called house husbands because the wives had the skills that brought in the wages.

It segues into sexuality. With vampires popping around for a bite to eat, attitudes remained Liberal. They still seem to be, religion here comes from a time before the church censored such things. Something else that leaves Megan astounded. Gina talks of things that she'd always thought of as eternal, created in Rome a long time ago, but still.

“A lot of the stuff in the bible, especially the old testament and Levicticus in particular, is how to keep your inland desert tribe alive long enough to see your grandchildren born. Look at the restrictions on shellfish. They make perfect sense if you live miles from the water in the days before refrigeration. They made little sense to the clan priest on a boat in the middle of the ocean when fish was the freshest food they could get. Because the clan travelled it really made them consider when a rule might apply, inland they still made perfect sense.” 

Megan can only nod

“Our bibles are also in part from odd translations, not all from the one the main church used, so they didn't all come from Latin. The thing about not lying with a man? We have two bibles that say not to lay with a boy, and when the church here last discussed it, and wrote out the church and school bibles so they all taught off the same texts, which was in the late eighteen hundreds, they went with boy, because not sleeping with children is something we can all agree on. The clan banned marriage before the participants were of an age to be claimed, which is between seventeen and twenty depending how fast folks grow, a vampire can smell it.”

“That's way ahead of its time.”

“That was the marker they used for human adulthood. From fifteen you could do a lot, and live alone, but you were still legally a ward of the clan, not a member until you became compatible or not.”

“It's such a different view, I wish there were histories.”

“The bureau banned so many vampire books. I know Edith, the head archivist, is talking about producing one now they're out of the picture.”

“Ollie's worried they'll come back.”

“My understanding is that vampires don't need anything with the scope the bureau had. When we were in DC the talk was more about how much could be subsumed by other departments, integrating the government. It was popular since the bureau was embarrassingly backwards about a lot of modern ideas. Anyway, I need to go over and help Mom get the dinner on the table. You're welcome to come, or go and see the horses.”

“I'll come with you if it's OK? I enjoyed riding today, but it's not something I want to pursue seriously.”

“That's fine. I hope you've still had a good day?”

“It's been fascinating, just being on a working ranch is such a different environment. And well, we need to change, we've both gotten lazy as the children got older, you've all given me so many ideas. Mav keeps saying you don't need to make big changes, and I see that more clearly here than around him and Tom. You're all much more normal.”

Gina snorts. “It is not hard to be more normal than those two. Not living life at speeds measured in mach is a good place to start.”

They walk to the house they ate lunch in, the rain is coming down in buckets now, she sees the teens in the aisle of the barn, hanging out with Gary. Good. It transpires that dinner had been well prepped and is mostly taking care of itself. Megan is helping to set the table when Phil and Tom emerge dressed in what must be Glen's clothes. Phil's in a t-shirt that looks like it was a freebie from the feed store, probably the only thing they had that was large enough, with a pair of sweats that seem to be sitting below his belly. Megan's very happy that he's looking after himself more, the difference is already noticeable. Tom's not so badly off, the sleeves on his button down and jeans are a bit short but otherwise it's the fluffy hair that gives him away.

The vampire's eyes are sparkling and he's chatting to Phil, Sue and Glen about beavers almost without breathing. He's wonderfully happy, Megan realises it's the same emotion his children showed with the dragons, and Ollie shows when he gets lost in the music. She has to hide a smile, she'd been worried he was a bit emotionally broken, he's not, he's guarded. Mav told Phil last night that Tom gets anxious easily. Now he's finally relaxed.

The teens troop in from the barn, also happy. Ollie is blending in well with her two. Phil's always so conscious that he's technically an adult. Megan gave up on that when she started teaching him to read. Ollie needs care, and he soaks it up easily, growing like a sunflower. She sees the signs of the man he will become; behind the keys of a piano, or when he sings, Ollie is strong and capable. At home, he's enjoying every new experience with childlike wonder, frequently blending with her own children. She looked it up, it's not a true regression, as far as they can tell Ollie's social education stopped when he moved to the factory, now, outside of work, he's growing from that point. And he is growing, already more grounded in pop culture and less naive, confident to go out and about in the city. 

In her mind, treating him like Sam at home seems right, Ollie's capable of adult thoughts and responsibilities, but not ready to go off alone. By the time Sam's off to college she thinks he will be. Still, the sooner Phil finishes the apartment the better. She won't force the teen to sleep there, but they really, seriously, need a space where he can safely be a vampire when he's awake. He's very much enjoying having his little tent to feel territorial about. Tom had to explain that one to all of them. Initially Tom had thought Ollie might be able to lay claim to his room in the house, but that caused fights with their own children wanting the same privileges, so Ollie has to put up with the same manners the humans use. She suspects he'll be quite back and forth for a while even after he does start sleeping in his apartment. She just needs his food out of her house!

Fortunately she's distracted from her own head by dinner. A good beef stew, perfect on a dreary day, hearty and filling, served with fresh bread that is apparently more of Tom's handiwork, which does explain why he's been vanishing, the vampire pinks up and almost preens at the praise. There's also green vegetables, home grown and frozen last year, Mary presents Mav with his own bowl and the other human is delighted to much amusement. The table is packed, the food all passed around.

“How many different vegetables are in this?” Sam asks.

“Quite a few.” Mary hums. “It's chuck beef, white potatoes, sweet potatoes, acorn squash, onions of course, turnips, pumpkin puree to thicken the sauce. There's no mushrooms since you don't all eat them. There's a few flat beans chopped up since I found a pack that had gotten freezer burned and you can't tell by the time they're stewed anyway, I think that's it,  well apart from the herbs and the stock.”

“No tomatoes?” Megan's surprised.

“Vampires do not eat tomatoes.” Mary informs them, it's then that Megan realises that Tom is eating a small bowl of what must be blended in stew. “It took entirely too long to figure that out. If you make a sauce from pumpkin, squash, or root vegetable puree, and meat broth, they quite enjoy it, provided you avoid cheese and mushrooms of course. Now young Oliver has plain broth since Tommy says he's not used to eating properly. Not to worry, Tommy wasn't either at your age, ducky.” Poor Ollie is scarlet, and trying very hard to manage a much larger spoon than the baby spoons he normally uses.

Mary leaves the vampires alone and settles into persuading her children to eat their greens. Whilst both are good eaters, greens outside of peas are probably less common at home than they should be. Tom's bread is eaten with far more enthusiasm and the home churned butter is remarked upon. Dessert is sticky toffee pudding and custard, not something they've ever had before. It's tasty and very filling, apparently a traditional recipe from Cumbria in England of all places. George had worked a summer over there as a young man, considering if sheep might do better than cows in the parts of the ranch with steeper hills and less grass. The conclusion had been that California was too hot for wool coats, but he came back with a very good dessert recipe and a new appreciation for dry socks so the trip was not a total loss.

The meal concludes itself pleasantly, and afterwards they bid farewell to the Howards then they all jam themselves in the truck since the rain continues to be a deluge. The drive back is dark and they all pile into the games room for a movie. They settle on Bond, then decline a second movie to get to bed, all oddly tired from new experiences. Megan makes use of the shower, enjoying the space and washing off the horse scent that clings to her faintly. Phil's already asleep by the time she's done. Fortunately the bed is big enough that there's still plenty of space and blankets left for her. Not that anything short of the military requisitioning them could cause a blanket shortage here. From what Megan has seen, there's more blankets in this cabin than the soft furnishings aisle at Walmart. It does make it easy to fall asleep.