Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1 - Graduations and Goodbyes

A subtle breeze, accompanied by the bright sun, drifted through the cracked window of Andy’s room. His hair tickled his ear, causing him to stir. He opened his eyes, suddenly remembering that today was graduation day. The moment he had been waiting for. Routine and discipline? Those were words that would soon be wiped from his vocabulary. He was finally moving on to greener pastures.

Andy never cared for literature or history. Those were his worst subjects, and he had only managed to pass thanks to Jasmine. He preferred research and biology, both of which suited his love for the outdoors and his determination never to miss any action in the small town of Sandrock. Today marked his freedom. For after today, he could finally take part in his family’s long-standing tradition of monster hunting.

He had grown accustomed to a softer life. Back when he first started running with Logan, the beds were hard, and the food was always fire-roasted, and “fire-roasted” was a generous term when Logan was cooking. But after Duvos was defeated, the town’s Builder and Logan had grown close and eventually married. They’d all moved in together, and compared to the old hideout, the Builder’s home was a luxury. It all felt so long ago. 

Yet, deep in his bones, Andy still craved excitement and adventure. His Ma’s work didn’t interest him. Building was fascinating, sure, but it was more work than he was willing to put in. A diagram? He could decipher that just fine. Actually assembling the thing? A different story. 

Monster hunting, though? That was his style. The idea of defending the town, just like Logan had, filled him with purpose. Plus, it would give him a chance to research and develop new weapons.

“Andy! Breakfast is ready!” Logan hollered from downstairs, adding a high-pitched whistle. It was his way of saying, on the double, son.

Andy responded with his own whistle: I hear ya.

At eighteen, Andy had grown to be just a bit shorter than Logan—not by much, but the difference was noticeable. His once-lanky frame had filled out with muscle, a testament to the hard work he had put in over the years. His Ma often put him to work at her workshop, whether it was collecting dew for the water tank, holding up materials while she secured them into place, or lugging the freshest harvest to Rambo and Merle in the stable.

His mid-length hair was often swept back into a ponytail. Logan had always nagged him about keeping it short when he was younger, but once they moved in with the Builder, Logan had lightened up about it. Now, Andy wore his hair however he pleased.

He got up and stretched, spotting the outfit Ma had picked for him. It was a wine-colored shirt and dark-colored jeans. He grabbed an old hat that Logan used to wear (minus the horns and the “L”) and gave himself a final once-over in the mirror.

“Hmmph,” he muttered in approval.

“Andy, I ain’t gonna tell you again, kid. We gotta get movin’.”

Logan still called him “kid,” despite Andy now being eighteen. Rolling his eyes, he tipped his hat to make sure it was secure before following the scent of something sweet into the kitchen.

Logan had one arm draped around his partner’s waist, pulling them close for a quick peck on the temple.

“Smells great, darlin’,” he cooed.

A groan erupted from the kitchen table, where two white-haired children sat. 

One was a boy, with Logan’s piercing blue eyes and smug grin—a little hell-raiser. The Builder and Logan definitely had their hands full with that one. The other child was a girl, softer in demeanor and bearing more of her mother’s features. She was the younger of the two.

“Can you atleast let me get one pancake in? I wanna have something to vomit, " the boy grumbled.

“I think it’s sweet that our parents show affection. It’s like a fairytale,” the girl sighed dreamily.

“Blehhh. You read too many books with Miss Jane,” the boy shot back, shoveling another bite into his mouth.

Andy made his way into the kitchen, plopping into his assigned spot, right between his siblings. It never failed; when they started squabbling, words weren’t the only things flying. Sometimes hands were thrown, and Andy, as the oldest, had the honor of breaking it up. When the three of them were going at it, there was no doubt they were Logan’s kids.

“Morning, baby. Are you ready for graduation?” Ma asked, setting a plate down in front of him. 

“I think so. I just really want to hit the trail with Logan and start learning how to be a real monster hunter. Plus, I can research and build new weapons, like when I made the Super Shock Shield.”

“Easy, partner,” Logan cut in. “You ain’t been on the trail in a while. You’re gonna be a lil’ rusty. We’ll be sticking ‘round here for a bit before headin’ off into the Eufaula. Especially since you wanna make your way to the Peripheries eventually. Never hurts to be careful.”

“I get that. I’m just ready to do something with my life already,” Andy countered.

Logan scrunched his eyebrows and shook his head. He then reached over and gave the Builder’s hand a light squeeze. “You’re in a rush, son. Take a second to enjoy the journey. Sometimes it’s better than the destination. Stop and smell the flowers, so to speak.”

“Are they Jasmine flowers?” his little sister piped up. 

Andy’s face turned beet red. His family’s teasing about his crush on Jasmine never ceased. Andy and her had been friends since he first stumbled into Sandrock. She had a quick wit and the sweetest smile. He always thought she was pretty, with her fiery red hair and sparkling teal-colored eyes.

She had always dreamed of becoming the lead writer for the local paper. Ever since she started delivering newspapers, she had been Heidi’s protégé. A romance between them wouldn’t be easy, especially since he’d be glued to Logan for a while. Still, Andy wasn’t ready to rule it out just yet. If awkward Logan could land the best Builder in the Alliance, surely he had a chance with Jasmine, right? He just needed to work up the courage to take that step.

“Y’all are a bunch of jokesters, aren’t ya?” Andy huffed. “Don’t forget I had to give Logan a good hunt talk when he wanted to propose to Ma. That was before you pipsqueaks were even born. You can thank me for your existence.”

Logan nearly choked on his pancake. “I had the idea in mind. I just needed Jas and your help with the details. Y’all ‘bout lost the ring with that balloon idea.”

“All right, boys, that’s enough.” The Builder interrupted, shaking her head. “Let’s wash up and start heading to the stage.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Logan and Andy said in unison. 

Mabel, Elsie, and Jasmine were putting the finishing touches on the stage, taping up the last of the golden ribbons while Cooper ranted about the moon men and their ploy to steal his yakmel.

“There’s them little rascals. Come help your ol’ grandpa Coop. We gotta talk some sense into this decoration committee. Gold attracts them little alien buggers to our town,” Cooper beckoned to Andy’s siblings. 

The siblings let go of the Builder’s hands and ran over to tackle Cooper. A loud thud echoed as they hit the ground, sending sand and dust flying everywhere. 

“Now that’s how we take down the moon men. We tackle ‘em first, ask questions later,” Cooper declared.

“Pa, yer ramblin’ would be enough to deter anyone from stealing your yakmel,” Elsie quipped.

“What you callin’ ramblin’, girl?”

Jasmine picked up a small package and hurried over to Andy. Her hair was tucked behind her ear, and her makeup was more noticeable than usual. A hint of glitter in her eyeshadow made her eyes stand out. She wore a lavender mid-length dress that complemented her fair skin.

“Hey guys! Andy, here's your cap and gown. Hurry up, others will start arriving soon!”

Andy just stared at her, mesmerized. His heart thumped a little harder. Her eyes sparkled, and the way the dress contrasted her complexion. He could look at her all day, like she was a work of art. But his thoughts were abruptly cut short by a not-so-subtle shove from Logan, followed by an exaggerated “ahem.”

“Ugh yeah, duh. Wouldn’t be a ceremony without it, right?” He laughed nervously. 

“Ma said to invite you guys to eat with us at the Blue Moon after the ceremony. She said she wants to celebrate the first graduates of MIT,” Jasmine giggled. 

“Yeah, sure Jas. I’m sure we could do that, right guys?” He asked, glancing towards his parents.

“‘Course, partner. We wouldn’t refuse an invite from the mayor’s daughter,” Logan said with a grin. 

“Perfect! Andy, we could go for a walk after, too. See you in a bit,” Jasmine said before hurrying off to finish decorating.

Andy shook his head and turned back to his ma and Logan. Logan looked like a cat who’d just licked up an entire pail of yakmel milk. Andy groaned, “Don’t start.” He then motioned for them to follow him to the front of the stage.

The ceremony was brief. Trudy spoke about the significance of MIT’s first graduation and the bright futures of its two graduates.

Jasmine planned to focus on her writing career. She had not only assisted Heidi by delivering the mail and local paper, but she had also been writing articles about events around Sandrock. Her dream was to collaborate with Ernest and Owen to establish a publishing house, ensuring that others within the Alliance could learn about Sandrock’s stories.

Andy, on the other hand, would begin training with Logan to join the monster hunting group he had assembled. The current members included Logan, Elsie, and the Builder. Logan welcomed an extra pair of eyes on the trail and, more importantly, was proud of Andy for wanting to continue the monster-hunting tradition.

After the ceremony, Logan and his family regrouped and made their way to the saloon, where Owen had pushed tables together to accommodate everyone. He had carefully prepared each person's favorite meal: Logan and the Builder both had five-spice steak, the siblings got rocket rooster tenders with fries, Trudy enjoyed a meaty cactus stew, Jasmine had a mushroom forest cake, and Andy was served sweet and sour pork ribs.

Andy pulled out a chair for Jasmine before taking the seat beside her.

“I still can’t get over the fact that Owen knows everyone’s favorite dishes,” Jasmine said, picking at her plate.

“Just means we are here too often, Jas,” Trudy replied. 

“Nonsense, Trudes. It just means Owen cares for his customers. Right, partner?” Logan gestured toward Owen, who arrived with a plate of bread and a side of royal jelly.

“I’m with Mayor Trudy. We are here all the time. Logan’s favorite dish to cook is charcoal. It has a different texture each time, but the taste is always the same… BURNT!” Andy taunted. 

Laughter erupted around the table as Logan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I can’t cook.”

Trudy, Logan, and the Builder engaged in quiet conversation about funding for Andy’s training. Logan joked about needing an emergency medical fund in case of a mega tunnel worm attack. This earned him a sharp glare and a punch in the shoulder from his wife.

Across the table, the siblings were locked in a spirited debate over who was tougher than the moon men.

“Please, you couldn’t scare a honey bumble ant with that wimpy girl punch,” the boy boasted.

“Oh yeah? Well, the only thing you could tackle is a honey bumble ant. You needed my help to take down Grandpa Cooper.”

Andy and Jasmine, sitting side by side, barely acknowledged the bickering as they wolfed down their meals, scraping their plates clean. Then, they turned toward their parents expectantly.

“Be back before dusk, Andy. We’ve got an early day tomorrow,” Logan reminded him.

“Jas, don’t forget our meeting about your publishing house project,” Trudy added. “Don’t be late.”

Andy and Jasmine exchanged smiles before heading toward the saloon doors. Andy stepped forward, pushing them open to let Jasmine through first. As he glanced back, he caught his ma giving him a nod of approval. She had turned that little bandit boy into somewhat of a gentleman.

They found a quiet spot near the waterfall that fed into Shonash Canyon. The water surged over sand and stone, its steady rush blending with the hush of the evening. The sky had begun to soften, streaked with hues of orange and pink, while the sand beneath them radiated warmth from the day’s sun. It felt like a dream to Andy. 

The stillness of the landscape, the presence of his best friend. Nothing could interrupt the deep contentment settling in his heart.

Nothing except what Jasmine said next.

“I’m taking a train to Atara tomorrow, Andy. Ernest secured me an internship at The Atara Times .”

The words hit him like a ton of bricks.

All this time, he had imagined they would step into adulthood together, just as they had faced everything else. She’d be writing, he’d be out hunting, but in the evenings, they’d still have each other. Running around town, hanging out like they always had. But now, reality was setting in. They weren’t kids anymore.

His mind drifted back to the days of the Duvos occupation, when Logan had distanced himself from Owen and Justice. Sure, they had rebuilt their friendship, but they had all stayed in the same place. He and Jasmine wouldn’t have that same luxury. At least, not in a way he was willing to accept right now.

He shouldn’t be upset. He couldn’t be. She had her dreams, and he had his. But still, it felt like a knife twisting in his heart.

Would things change between them? Would she forget about Sandrock?

Would she forget about him ?

He thought about telling her how he felt. How he had always admired her. 

The way she chased after the next big thing, never taking no for an answer. Even as kids, he knew she was special. But what if she didn’t feel the same? What if it changed nothing? Maybe it was better to hold back, to let the moment slip away. After all, confessing wouldn’t make her stay.

“Guess them’s the breaks,” he muttered, tossing a stone into the ravine. The splash was lost beneath the roaring water. He exhaled sharply. “Listen, Jas, I need to head back before Logan sends a search party.” He stood, brushing the sand from his hands.

Jasmine quickly rose with him and, without thinking, grabbed his hand.

“Wait! I’m leaving on the afternoon train. And I’d like you to be there.”

Her eyes flicked down to where their hands met, almost surprised by how easily she had reached for him. She hesitated, then softened her grip.

“Please, Andy.”

Andy swallowed hard. He kept his gaze on the canyon, anywhere but on her face.

“I’ll see what I can do, Jas,” he said with a shrug, his voice void of any real commitment. “Not making any promises.”

And with that, he turned on his heel and walked away. A burning sensation crawled up his throat, and he picked up his pace, eager to put distance between himself and the ache in his chest before she saw it.

Jasmine stood there, watching him go, her vision blurring with unshed tears.

Andy was the last person she ever wanted to hurt. They had been through so much together, growing up side by side. And now, it felt like he was ready to throw it all away, just because they wouldn’t be in the same town anymore.

She was hurt, but more than that, she was disappointed in herself.

From the moment that mischievous boy strolled into town, her life had been nothing short of exciting. His love for adventure, his quick wit, and that devilish grin he wore when he was up to no good. 

She was going to miss it all. Maybe she should have told him how she felt while they were sitting there. Maybe then, this wouldn’t feel so heartbreaking.

But with her leaving tomorrow, their chance might already be slipping away.

Maybe if she had been honest sooner, this wouldn’t feel like goodbye. Maybe, just maybe things could have been different.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2 - Blades, Bruises, and a Goat Named Waylon

The Builder was reading when Andy barged in, slamming the front door shut. He rushed past her without a word and disappeared into his room.

Logan dropped his sharpening knife, his jaw tightening. “The nerve on that boy,” he muttered, already moving to chase after him.

Before he could take a step, the Builder placed a firm hand on his chest, stopping him in his tracks. “Let me talk to him. This might be more of a momma thing.”

Logan exhaled sharply but nodded. “Sure, hon’,” he said, his frustration softening as he reached up to caress her cheek.

A soft knock sounded as Andy laid in his bed. His head was covered by pillows. The burning in his throat was still there, but not as intense. It was his Ma, definitely. Logan would’ve just rushed in and read him the riot act about slamming doors in the house. He took a deep breath, throwing the pillows to the floor, and sat up to greet her. 

“It’s open, Ma,” he croaked.

“Hey baby, you want to tell me what your little display was downstairs?” She asked, combing the gold hair away from his face. 

Andy hesitated. He never wanted anyone to think of him as a child anymore.

So what his best friend was leaving? She didn’t owe him anything, and he was selfish for being butt hurt about it. What kind of friend just walks away? He did, but for a good reason. He wanted more than friendship from her. It just seemed like that was out of reach for now.

His ma would listen, without judgement. She always had. She was always a stable force in his life. When Logan “abandoned” him, she was there to help pick up the pieces. She’d been able to decipher and build the Super Shock Shield when everyone else thought it was a harebrained idea. She was always there, a soft place for him to fall when he needed it. 

“Ma, I think I messed up with Jas,” he admitted. “She’s leaving for Atara tomorrow, and I acted like a fool when she told me. Left her at the waterfall, because I felt like she was abandoning our friendship.”

The Builder let out a light chuckle, and sat next to her son. “Young love is a fickle beast, isn’t it? And you are your daddy’s son. Always feeling with one hundred percent of your heart. Never straddling the fence.” 

The Builder placed her arms around his shoulders and pulled him close. His large form almost toppled her, but she was unmoved. “What you’re feeling, Andy is valid. But you need to ask yourself, is it worth throwing out years of laughter, conversations, and fun?”

Andy took her words, and marinated on them for a moment. Ma was right, of course she was right. She always was. He’d been a fool to the best (and only) friend he had in Sandrock.

“She wanted me to see her off on the train tomorrow. Leaves in the afternoon, she said.”

“I’m sure Logan would give you a break from sparring, if I made the request for you.”

“Thanks, Ma.”

The Builder got up from his bed, giving him a quick kiss on his forehead. “Oh, I almost forgot. Logan and I got you a graduation present. You should check the stable,” she grinned. 

Andy's eyes widened, and nearly knocked her over speeding downstairs to head out the backdoor. The Builder just shook her head, and laughed. 

Logan stood in the stable, brushing the coat of the newest mount he’d imported from Portia. The animal stood as tall as Rambo, its reddish-brown coat accented by a black blaze on its face, black stockings, and a dorsal stripe stretching from the back of its head to its tail. Its beard was short, but still comparable to Rambo’s.

Logan could hear Andy barreling through the house, and smiled to himself. “She told him. Ready ol’ boy? You’re gonna have to take care of each other,” he said, patting the goat on the shoulder.

The buck gave a stern “meh.” And turned to see Andy slowly approaching the stable. At that moment, he rushed past Logan and greeted Andy. Stretching his neck over Andy’s shoulder, begging for a scratch.

Andy reached up, obliging the goat while eyeing Logan and the Builder, who were smiling at him. “Figured you’d need something to keep up with me when we hit the Eufaula. Meet Waylon.”

Logan and the Builder soon found them encompassed in a strong hold, as Andy bolted over to them. “You guys are the best! I can’t wait to go for a ride.”

“We’ll have time for that soon, partner. Best get to bed now- we got sparring in the morning,” Logan said. 

Andy returned Waylon to the stable, filling his trough with potatoes and tomatoes. Waylon “meh’d” one last time, before gorging himself.

“Easy there, kiddo. You’re rushing it. I can see what yer gonna do from a league away,” Logan coached. 

Blocking and dodging were not Andy’s forte so to speak. He was impulsive in his movements. His squirreliness had served him well when he was a small and lanky boy, but for a sturdy built man it just didn’t work the same.

“Step with your block, it gives ya more stability. Also makes the blows more tolerable”

“Can't we work with the stone swords already?’ Andy countered. 

“No. If something catches you off guard out on the trail, you think you gonna have a weapon ready?”

Andy was growing frustrated. He knew this stuff was important, but he just wanted to get out on the trail already. “Just means you’ll have to save me, huh?”

Logan rolled his eyes, then swung at Andy, knocking him over. He then turned to look towards the bridge. The train that was going to take Jasmine to Atara would be arriving soon. “Take a break son, and tell Jasmine we said ‘good luck.”

Andy picked himself up, and dusted off. “I wanna spar for real when I come back.”

“Sure, partner. Whatever you say.”

Andy headed toward the train station with his head held high. He had been wrong before. Walking away and leaving Jasmine in the dust hadn’t been the right thing to do, no matter how justified it had felt in the moment. It wasn’t worth throwing away years of friendship just because he was hurt by her leaving. And he wasn’t too proud to admit it.

When he arrived, Jasmine was sitting on the bench kicking her legs just like she did when she was a kid. He slicked back his hair, and tightened the hat on his head. “Time to saddle up, yakboy,” he muttered to himself. 

Jasmine sat quietly, kicking her feet, staring at the train that would soon take her away from the sandy town she loved. Her Ma’s words of encouragement that morning had been enough to carry her through the walk to the station. But now, as she sat there, the excitement that had built up, felt hollow. Instead of anticipation, a quiet ache settled in her chest, like a hole had opened in her heart.

Andy… she’d hurt Andy. Their conversation from last night had still been on her mind. She didn’t want to leave like that. Never intended to hurt him. But this was something she needed to do. This was her calling. She was going to take what she learned from Atara and come back to Sandrock to promote its rehabilitation efforts.

Her daydreaming was interrupted by a familiar figure coming up the stairs to the platform. He peered up at her, and gave a subtle smile. “Hey, Jas,” he drawled. 

“Andy!” she said excitedly, throwing her arms around him “Thank you for coming!”

Andy could feel a warmth building in his cheeks. It was a familiar feeling whenever she hugged him. He returned her affection and pulled her in a tight squeeze. “Jas… I’d been stupid to you last night. And I wanna apologize. Imma just really going miss you.”

“Me too, Andy.”

“Train to Atara ready to board, Miss Jasmine,” Jensen shouted as the steam engine let out a long whistle

“Looks like that’s me,” she said untangling herself from Andy’s hug. “Will you help me with my bag?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

Andy gathered her bag, and followed her into the cart, placing it above her seat. Then she followed him back out as he stepped back onto the platform. He could be selfish at this moment, just once. He could tell her how she meant everything to him. How hard it was going to be to not see her smile every day, or how it would hurt like hell as he watched her leave Sandrock.

“Jas… I-” he hesitated. “I wish you the best of luck. I’ll be countin’ the days till you return.”

She wondered what he really wanted to say. He was holding back, and she would love nothing more than for him to sweep her off her feet and kiss her goodbye, just like in one of those romantic novels she had been reading. 

The Hunter and the Writer .

What a whirlwind that could be. 

Andy clearly needed a little encouragement, and she was more than willing to give it.

She leaned forward, planting a kiss on his unsuspecting cheek. “I’ll write to you,” she whispered. She then turned back and took her seat, leaving Andy in his own whirlwind. 

Andy brushed his hand where she planted her kiss, half expecting it to have burned his cheek. It felt like someone took a hot brand to his skin. That kiss was all the courage he needed to tell her how he felt. But as he came out of his haze, the train was pulling away. So a wave would have to do for now.

“So, you really wanna do this, kid?” Logan asked, gripping a practice blade and inspecting it.

“That’s a lot of talk, Logan, from a yakboy who got his ass whooped by two women. If Grace and Ma can do it, why can’t I?”

A slight gasp could be heard from Justice who could be seen patrolling the area with Unsuur. “We taking a break, partner. I got to see the kid and Logan go at it.” They headed over to have a seat next to the Builder and her two children.

“Geetim, Pa!” Andy’s brother called.

Andy threw an annoyed look to his younger brother. Someday when he was grown, he’d whoop him in a sparring match. But right now, he needed to focus on going toe to toe with Logan in the ring. 

He’d watched Logan for years, knew his moves in and out. It wouldn’t be that hard to dodge them, would it? Sometimes he’d do four swipes, and then push into his opponent. Other times, he’d leap into the air and come down dagger-first. Oh yeah, he was confident. He could take Logan, no problem.

Logan and Andy took their positions across from one another in the center of the ring. Logan rolled his shoulders, and flexed his hands around the stone daggers. Andy jumped around a little bit, rolling his head to each shoulder. He’d chosen a swift long blade. Has he had training with it? Not really. But how hard was it to swing a blade at an opponent? He’d seen Unsuur do it every High-Noon event. He then took a few practice swings to get comfortable with the sword.

Unsuur glanced over to Justice, “Permission to partake in legal betting, sir?” 

Justice let out a hearty chuckle, “Yeah, sure Unsuur. I got dibs on Logan, though.”

Unsuur bit the inside of his cheek, “Alright sir, I like a good underdog anyway.” 

They each tossed five gols into a pile on the sand. 

“You want in on this, Builder?” Justice asked.

The Builder shifted slightly, weighing her options. “How about I take on the winner of this round? Doesn’t feel right to bet on my husband when he’s sparring with my kid.” 

Justice shoved Unsuur with a grin on his face. “Forget Logan- dibs on the Builder! You hear that, boys?” He called to Logan and Andy. “Whoever wins has to duel the Builder?”

“Sounds good to me. That alright with you, boy?” Logan asked.

Andy nodded, though not confident in his ability to take on the Builder. He’d definitely lose to her, everyone did.

“DRAW!” Logan yelled.

Andy and Logan danced around the ring, sizing each other up. Logan was first to strike, he stepped back and spun himself towards Andy. Four quick swipes, followed by a push was his first move. Andy took the first swipe, gritting his teeth like a champ as it made contact.  Logan usually started with a warning shot, the other three  he managed to side step to. When Logan lunged for the push, Andy dropped into a combat roll, barely avoiding the impact and skidding to the edge of the ring. 

“Whenever you're ready, son. Come at me.”

Shaking off the roll, Andy sprang to his feet and dashed toward Logan. He swung low, aiming for Logan’s legs, but Logan deflected it effortlessly with one of his daggers. Seizing the moment, Andy used his free hand to land a sharp blow to Logan’s cheek, surprising him for a split second.

Logan licked his lips and cracked his knuckles, smirking.  “Not bad, not bad. But I’m still gonna win.”

“Just so you can have your ass handed to you by Ma," Andy quipped, his own smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

Logan snapped his head towards Andy, “Alright, we’re just gonna finish it here. Put you outta your misery.”

He spun into the air, his body twisting with practiced grace, before coming down hard onto Andy with his full weight. Andy felt the weight of Logan crash into him, the force knocking the breath from his lungs. He was knocked flat on his back, Logan pinning him down effortlessly. Logan drove his dagger into the soft floor of the ring with a sharp, final motion. “Maybe one day you’ll best me, but it sure ain’t gonna be today.” 

Cheering and hollering erupted from outside the ring, where a larger crowd had gathered. Cooper, Rocky, and Owen had joined the bench where everyone else was seated.

“Think the bettin’ pool just got a little bigger,” Logan said, pulling Andy up. “You alright?”

“Yeah… Imma go have a seat now,” Andy replied, wiping the sweat from his brow.

The Builder stepped into the ring, grabbed the other set of daggers from the rack, and tested their weight with a few practice swings before taking her place at the center.

“Darlin’, don’t worry I’ll take it easy on you…for now.”

“Funny how confident you are, especially since… what? You’ve yet to best me,” she laughed, circling him like a predator.

“Maybe… Imma feelin’ lucky today,” he said, eyes tracking her as she disappeared and reappeared around his shoulders.

“We’ll see about that later, yakboy,” she flirted, a sly grin playing on her lips.

Logan licked his lips once more. This woman knew how to play him like an ol’ fiddle. He needed to focus—sparring now, bedroom later.

The small pile of gols had grown since Andy and Logan sparred. Cooper tossed in the two gols he had in his pocket. He was putting his coin on Logan. Rocky added ten on the Builder. They’d sparred before—back when she first came to town, and everyone learned just how tough she was.. The woman had a mean streak about her, and there was no opponent that could best her. Owen was just passing through for herbs from Fang but decided to throw ten on the Builder as well.

Andy and his siblings started their own betting pool, debating who would come out on top. They compared Logan and Ma’s different skill sets. Logan had reach, while Ma had flexibility. In the end, Andy and his sister bet on Ma, while their brother backed Pa. The bet? Whoever lost had to clean the goat pen for a week.

“Stop flirting and get this brawl going!” Rocky shouted, clearly impatient.

“After you, Darlin’,” Logan said, giving her a wink.

The Builder wasted no time, landing a few quick blows before rolling away. But Logan had the reach, just enough to land a hit mid-roll. The hit disrupted her roll, sending her flat on her back for a moment.

She sprang up, using her agility to sweep Logan off his feet. Logan tumbled to the ground, exhaling sharply. 'Whoo, that wasn’t very nice,” he muttered, catching his breath.

“That all you got? You didn’t last very long!' she teased.

Logan chuckled, pushing himself up. He launched into a series of swings, using his momentum to spin. She dodged every strike with ease, slipping just out of reach. She then countered with a swift punch to his ribs, sending him backward. His dagger scraped against the mat, leaving a long tear in the fabric.

“Good thing I married a Builder. The town’s gonna need a new mat after this.”

The Builder smirked, moving in to finish him off just as he struggled to rise. Smaller or not, she tackled him with enough force to bring him down.  She had him pinned. And with a sigh, Logan tapped out. As he was bested by her once again.

“That’s the match!" Justice declared, throwing his hands up in celebration.

“Daggumit, boy! I had a whole two gols riding on this! Mabel’s gonna string me up for betting again,” Cooper groaned, stomping his foot.

"I got you, Coop," Owen said, tossing the coins over to him.

"Much obliged, partner. You just saved my hide."

The Builder rolled off Logan and flopped beside him, both of them catching their breath after the spar "That makes it, what? 0-50 now?"

"I lost count of all the times you’ve bested me, Darlin’. But I won the biggest prize when you said 'yes' to this life with me."

She leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, the taste of salt lingering between them.

“I love you.”

“I love you more, hon’.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 3 - Where the Yakmel Roam

Andy stood outside the house, tossing a lasso at the fake yakmel. A slight, dusty breeze tousled his red cape. Spring was nearly over, and summer was creeping in. It was obvious by how much more he sweated just being outdoors.

“Think you’ll actually be able to rope anything?” his younger brother teased.

“Might be better if I had a moving target,” Andy smirked.

Without a second thought, he tossed the rope toward his brother, narrowly missing his ankle. His brother jumped back instinctively, shooting him a disgruntled look.

“You’re not funny,” his brother grumbled before taking off at a sprint.

“That’s the spirit!” Andy called after him.

Andy bolted after the little hellion. He had to admit, the kid was fast. He skidded across the sand, leapt over the workshop table, and ducked under the machines. If their Ma saw them now, she’d have them both strung up by their collars.

“Cut it out, Andy. This isn’t cool,” his brother whined.

Andy threw the rope one last time and managed to catch his brother’s ankle. With a firm tug, he brought his prize to his knees. A soft whine followed as Andy approached, making quick work of hog-tying him. Once finished, he plopped down on top of him like a true victor.

His brother grunted and squirmed beneath Andy’s weight, but Andy was too sturdy to be bucked off. Eventually, the kid gave up with an exhale, letting his arms rest against the restraints in defeat.

“What the hell are you two jackaninnies doing?” Logan called out.

He had just returned from a daddy-daughter date, his little princess following close behind, carrying a basket of freshly picked mountain roses. Logan, however, seemed completely unaware that his daughter had lovingly tucked a single pink flower behind his ear.

Andy brought a hand to his chin, stroking his barely-there stubble. He looked down at his hog-tied brother, then back up at Logan.

“Bout lookin’ as ridiculous as you,”  he said, trying hard not to laugh.

“Isn’t Daddy pretty?” Logan’s daughter beamed.

Logan brushed a hand through his hair, suddenly remembering the flower. His eyes widened. That would explain why half the townsfolk had giggled as he passed through the square.

“Run along now, sweetheart. Seems your brothers need a talkin’ to.”

“But Daddy, you promised you’d come to my tea party,” she pouted.

“’Course I did-wouldn't miss it for the world. In fact—mark me down for a plus two,” he said, eyeing his sons.

His daughter dashed past her brothers, giggling with glee. She’d never managed to get all the boys in her house to attend a tea party before. This was going to be a momentous occasion.

Logan’s boys, however, looked less than thrilled.

“You wouldn’t really do that to us, would you, Pa?” the youngest asked.

“Untie your brother and clear your schedule, boys. We’re going to a tea party.”

Andy untied his brother in a hurry and helped brush the dirt off him. Both were mumbling under their breath about how ridiculous tea parties were—and blaming each other for getting into this mess in the first place.

“Quit yer bellyachin’. Yer goin’,” Logan ordered.

“This is ridiculous,” Andy groaned, stirring a tiny spoon in his gold-rimmed cup.

“It’s your fault, Andy. All I did was ask how the lassoing was going, and you decided to turn it into a rodeo.”

The boys started bickering, which quickly escalated to kicks under the table. Despite their age difference, neither wanted to be bested by the other—so immaturity often ruled the day.

“What’d I say about bellyachin’? If you two don’t cut it out, I won’t hesitate to get your momma involved,” Logan warned.

Andy froze mid-kick. That was the ultimate threat. Sure, Ma had always been a soft place to land—but he’d seen her mean streak, too. Like the time she interrogated him for being an accomplice in one of Logan’s schemes against the town.

“Start singing, stool pigeon,” she’d said, followed by an unblinking stare that could melt stone.

Andy shuddered at the memory.

“Now pass me the salt for my cocoa. Little girl’s been working hard. It’d be rude not to enjoy her bakin’ and drinks.”

Logan’s daughter twirled around in the playset kitchen her Ma had built for her. It was an exact replica of their real one: a yellow stove, a teal sink, and a pink mini fridge. She had first served a tray of drinks, tea and hot cocoa. Four small dishes of sandrice cake soon followed, pulled straight from her play oven.

She then joined them at the four-seater high table made from acacia wood (another one of her Ma’s creations). She was grinning from ear to ear. This was the most company she’d ever had in her room. Normally, it was just her Ma and Nemo who joined her for tea. So having her Pa here (and him bringing her brothers along) made her absolutely ecstatic.

“Thanks for coming, boys. Nemo is nice to have over, but he doesn’t talk much. Just mostly stares at me, waiting for a piece of food.”

Nemo, hearing his name, trotted over and began to beg at Andy’s feet. He’d been Andy’s best friend for years. Back when Andy was younger, the two of them had gone on all sorts of adventures together. Now, with the gray around his muzzle, the only excitement Nemo seemed to crave was the unscavenged world beneath the table, where crumbs were plenty.

“No problem, princess,” Logan said. “Say, Andy…I made us an appointment over at the Wandering Y. Coop’s got a yakmel problem. Figured I’d start you off with something easy. Put those rope skills to work.”

“Yeah, let’s go,” Andy replied. “Thanks, sis. I can never say no to sandrice cake.”

His little sister hugged his leg tightly. “Be safe, please.”

He knelt down to her level and gave her hair a gentle ruffle. “I’ll be fine. We’ll catch up later, okay?”

“Are you staying?” she asked her other brother, who was slurping the last bit of his cocoa.

“Would love to, sis. But I got a goat pen to clean,” he said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve before rushing out the door.

Logan raised an eyebrow at his two remaining children. “Why’s he cleaning the pen?”

“We bet on who’d win between you and Ma during sparring. He lost,” his daughter giggled.

Logan gritted his teeth. “I see.”

He ushered Andy down the stairs, following close behind. “Can’t believe y’all didn’t bet on me beating your Ma.”

“Seems like we made the right call. I’m not the one scraping goat crap right now.”

Logan took a deep breath, then gave Andy a playful shove.

“Watch your heels. Don’t be diggin’ ’em into his ribs.”

Andy’s calves were wrapped tightly around Waylon’s chest, making the goat antsy. Between Andy’s nerves and Waylon’s first time carrying a rider, the short trip to the Wandering Y was off to a rocky start. Logan, riding behind them, noticed Waylon swinging his rump back and forth while Andy struggled to stay balanced in the saddle.

Logan urged Rambo forward and blocked Waylon’s path, bringing the goat to a halt. “Watch me,” he said. “Shoulders back.”

Andy mirrored him, taking a deep breath and relaxing his posture.

“Hands gripped on the bar, but not tight. Give ol’ Waylon some trust.”

Waylon stomped a front hoof and gave a quick nod, as if to confirm Logan’s instructions were spot on.

“Now, both of you—follow me,” Logan said, turning Rambo around and trotting toward Cooper and Mabel’s.

Waylon followed Rambo’s tracks confidently, glancing at Andy from time to time. It almost seemed like he was checking in on him. Though the distance to their destination was short, it felt like Waylon was trying to build trust too.

Mabel sat on the porch in a rocking chair, thumbing through a cookbook. She looked up just in time to spot Logan and Andy riding in. They rode up to the fence and let the goats settle there, leaving them untied.

“We don’t need to tie him up, Logan?” Andy asked, uncertain about leaving his new mount unsecured.

“Trust, Andy. Learn it. It'll serve you both well.”

Mabel disappeared briefly, then returned with a sandberry pie and two glasses of yakmel milk.

“Figured you boys would want somethin’ to eat before wrestlin’ the yakmel,” she said, balancing the tray as she walked over.

Andy eagerly took a glass and a small slice of pie. Even now, a bit older, he’d never lost his sweet tooth. Whether it was cake, pies, candy, you name it, he ate it. Logan, on the other hand, settled for just the glass of milk.

“Normally, I’d take you up on your pie, Mabel,” Logan chuckled, “but I’m still full from my daughter’s sandrice cake.”

“Just means I’ll have to pack leftovers for y’all. The Builder deserves somethin’ sweet too. Just don’t tell Coop I sent ’em with ya.”

As if on cue, Cooper emerged from the barn, carrying a bucket of vegetables. No doubt he just finished up the afternoon feeding. He fed his yakmel twice a day, which some folks said was too much. But Cooper didn’t mind a little extra weight on his livestock, and he genuinely enjoyed spending time with them. You could even catch him humming Coogo band songs from time to time.

“C’mon, boys!” Cooper called out. “I got a mean ol’ heifer out back here!”

When Cooper said “mean ol’ heifer,” he wasn’t kidding. The yakmel in question was having an absolute meltdown—stomping hard against the sand, bucking wildly, and swinging her horns with deadly precision. Her calls echoed across the property, and every few seconds, she’d fling her back foot so high it looked like she was trying to kick the sky.

“I think she’s got a nail in her sole or somethin’,” Cooper muttered, squinting at the furious beast like he was trying to diagnose a storm cloud. Then, without missing a beat, he casually added, 

“Y’all gonna have to rope her,” as if this were the simplest request in the world. “I’ll fetch my pullers,” he said, already walking back to the barn—leaving Andy and Logan staring down what looked like a creature possessed.

Logan stood with one hand on his chin, eyes locked on the rampaging yakmel, weighing their options. They could try snagging her horns with a rope, tying her off to the fence. The other would lasso a back hoof and pull it outward so Cooper could remove the nail.

But that felt reckless—one wrong move and they’d be nursing a cracked rib or worse. Maybe coming at her from the side would be better. They’d avoid her line of fire and have a cleaner shot at casting her down safely.

“Reckon we come at her from the side,” Logan said, nodding to himself. “We’ll be in her flight zone, not her fight zone. Less likely she’ll come at us while we start castin’. But be ready in case she bolts.”

“Castin’? What the heck is castin’?”

Logan adjusted his grip on the rope. “It’s a technique. You make three loops. One 'round her horns, one behind the shoulders, and the last just before her hips. Rope stays along her back. When we pull, she’ll drop to her rear first. That way, we can lay her down safely. We’ll each take a side and toss the rope back and forth.”

Andy gave a determined nod. “Alright. Think I can handle that.”

They both moved toward the yakmel slowly, arms fanned out, making no sudden movements. As they drew closer, they split off, each taking a side. The heifer began to snort, a clear warning to back off . She eyed them both: Logan stood to her right, Andy to her left.

She began rearing, tossing her horns toward the sky to make herself appear larger. It was a common defense tactic among bovines. Now the question was…was she bluffing, or not?

With one final toss of her head, she whipped around Logan and bolted toward the back of the property, straight in the direction of the research center. In her escape, she knocked down several fence posts like they were twigs.

“Dammit, I knew she’d bolt on us,” Logan cursed, whistling sharply for Rambo.

“DAGNABBIT! MAAAAAABELLLL!” Cooper hollered from the barn. “MY FENCE’S BUSTED AGAIN!”

Just as Cooper was gearing up to tear into the monster hunters, Rambo came barreling in with Waylon right on his heels. Logan and Andy wasted no time mounting their goats and charging off after the runaway yakmel, who (despite her bum leg) was making a shockingly fast break for it.

“We’re pullin’ out all the stops today, Andy. I had you workin’ on ropin’, but now looks like we’ve got a little trackin’ to do too.”

“How’d we even lose a big ol’ yakmel, anyhow?”

“We didn’t,” Logan said, swinging off Rambo and crouching low to the ground. He brushed a hand over the sand, revealing a deep, half-moon hoofprint. “Look here. These tracks are fresh. See the edges? Still crisp, no wind's brushed over 'em yet. And here—” he pointed to a dark speck in the sand, “that’s blood. Guess that nail’s really startin’ to bug her now.”

Andy dropped to one knee beside him, squinting down at the track. The depression was deeper than the others around it, the weight shifted oddly to one side. “She’s favorin’ the leg,” he muttered.

Logan gave a nod of approval. “Exactly. And check the stride—shorter in the back. She ain’t runnin’ anymore, more like limpin’. Probably tryin’ to find somewhere to rest. You know where that puts her?”

Andy scanned the horizon, then pointed off toward a stretch of fencing that disappeared behind a rise. “The moisture farm.”

Logan gave him a solid pat on the shoulder, pride flickering in his eyes. “That’s what I was thinkin’. Nice work, kid. Let’s keep movin’, before she tears up anything else.”

The boys followed the hoofprints across the sand, weaving through brush and rocky patches, until they reached the familiar clearing where Daisy picked up passengers bound for the Northern Ruins.

There she was.

The yakmel stood in the sand, grazing beneath a leaning shade tree. Her ears twitched, then she froze, locking eyes with them. A low snort escaped her, and she scraped one front hoof against the ground, kicking up dust…ready to charge again.

“Getcha rope, Andy! We can’t have her runnin’ off again,” Logan hollered, already spurring Rambo into action.

Andy pulled his rope from Waylon’s saddle and angled in from the side. Logan mirrored his movement, closing in from the opposite direction. The heifer lunged at Andy first, lowering her horns.

Logan moved fast. His rope flew true, looping tight around her horns and halting her advance with a sharp jolt. She whipped her head toward him next, eyes wild, about to charge again.

Before she could gain momentum, Logan tossed the rope over her back. Andy caught it clean and the two began their casting. Three practiced loops: one at the horns, one behind the shoulders, and the last just before the hips.

“Now pull, Andy!”

Andy gave Waylon a sharp spur to the ribs. “H’yah, Waylon! H’yah!”

The sturdy goat dug in and heaved. The rope went taut.

With a startled grunt, the yakmel’s legs gave out. She crumpled slowly into the sand, letting out a defeated groan as she settled on her side.

“Y’uns did some nice work. Lemme get that ol’ nail out,” Cooper said, dismounting his yakmel with a grunt.

He approached the heifer with the pullers in hand and got to work. Despite all the earlier fuss, she stood still this time, as if she knew help had finally arrived. With practiced ease, Cooper yanked the nail free, applied a dab of medicine to the sore hoof, and gave her a gentle pat.

“There. Good as new. Reckon she’ll be a lot more cooperative now,” he said, stepping back and wiping his hands on his pants. “I’ll head on back.”

“Coop, about yer fence…” Logan reminded him, adjusting his saddle.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, partner. Yer wife already stopped by and fixed it right up.”

Logan groaned softly. “Of course she did. Woman never misses an opportunity to help this town.”

“That’s what we love about her,” Cooper said, mounting back up with a grin. “Got yourself a good one there, son.”

And with that, he turned his yakmel and galloped off, leaving a trail of dust and a chuckling Logan behind.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4 - Chicken and Waffles

The Builder treated her family to a late lunch at the Blue Moon. They sat in their usual booth near the exit. Andy slid in toward the railing, Logan next to him, his Ma last, while his younger siblings took the seats across from them. Andy was thumbing a letter he’d received just the day before.

Andy,

Atara is soooo different from Sandrock. People here aren’t as friendly. Apparently, the internship I got was super competitive. Only two of us were chosen. Cynthia is the name of the girl who was picked alongside me.

She doesn’t seem kind. She often critiques my work and tells me that "no one cares about the greenification of Sandrock." I mostly ignore her and stay focused on my goal. I want to get our town the recognition it deserves.

I hope monster hunting is going well. I just know you’ll be amazing at it. You have the ability to succeed at anything you set your mind to.

                                                                                                                                         I miss you.

                                                                                                                                         Jasmine

“Good note?” Logan smiled, watching his son fawn over the letter.

Andy folded the note hastily, tucked it into his back pocket, and scratched the back of his head. “Uh, yeah. Jas just updated me on her internship. Sounds like the girl she got paired with isn’t too kind.”

“That’s a shame. Jas is such a gem,” Ma replied, her eyes scanning the specials on the menu.

Coming soon-chicken and waffles!

“What an odd combination,” Ma said. “Did you see this?” She asked Logan, pointing to the short description. 

A fried piece of rocket rooster leg, with our house-made waffles. Served with a generous drizzle of Bumble Ant honey. 

“Hmm… probably Owen dreaming up some new dish again.”

Owen emerged from the kitchen, dropping drinks off at the bar. He made his way over to Logan’s family, a friendly smile came across his face as he greeted his favorite regulars.

“Howdy, partners! Fancy the usual today?” he asked.

“Sure, Owen. But what’s this chicken and waffles dish you got here?” Ma asked.

“Oh, that! I was reading some old-world books, and they combined breakfast and dinner food. Can you believe it? Figured I’d try it out here…with a few Sandrock tweaks, of course!”

“Well, guess I shouldn’t knock it till I try it.”

“Speaking of which, I hate to bring up business when y’all are out like this, but Logan—think you and Andy could rustle up some roosters and honey pots for me? I’d pay you well for your efforts,” Owen proposed.

“Sure, partner. We can handle that.”

“Great! I’ll get your order in. If y’all could deliver those supplies sooner rather than later, I’d be much obliged,” Owen said, turning on his heel and heading back to the kitchen.

That was the perk of living in Sandrock. The work of a monster hunter was always consistent. Where someone was willing to pay for an extermination, another was willing to take the resources. In this case, Owen was both.

“Think there’s some Rocket Roosters holed up behind the house. The Bumble Ants… we could find those over by the scrapyard. Rocky would probably appreciate us cleanin’ up the area too,” Andy said.

“I’m impressed, kid. Makin’ me proud.”

The Builder grabbed Logan’s hand under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze. Logan was a good man. No, a great man. And she’d chosen well when it came to him. Her own Pa had been a little apprehensive about Logan’s ruggedness when they first met, but he’d come to love him just as she did.

Not everyone got to know Logan the way she did, but given the chance, they’d see that heart of gold. It was clear as day through the way he treated her and their children.

“Pa, you think I could join you on a hunt sometime soon?” Logan’s daughter asked.

“Hmm, reckon you oughta ask your ma, sweetheart. Andy’s just now really gettin’ his feet wet with this stuff,” Logan paused. “It’s not fun and games on the trail.”

“Tell you what, why don’t we make it a family outing?” the Builder suggested. “Five pairs of eyes are better than two, right?” 

Logan was dumbfounded. He knew his wife was always down for a hunting trip, but a family outing? Was she serious? She’d always been so protective of the kids, and now she wanted to take them all on a field trip to gather chicken legs and pots of honey?

“You serious, hun’? Andy and I could handle it. I’m not sayin’ ‘no,’ but I know you’re busy with all yer commissions.”

“Nonsense, Logan. Wei says I need to take a break anyway. I’ve got about triple the commerce points as everyone else. He said it’d be nice to let others catch up. Gave me the whole week off, actually,” she smiled.

“Well, that settles that. If we break up into two teams, I figure we could gather the supplies quicker.”

Logan grabbed a napkin from the table and started sketching out a plan. Boys versus girls (it was his youngest son's idea).

The Builder and her daughter designated themselves to retrieve the honey, while the boys went to retrieve the roosters. Logan didn’t think it was right for his daughter to be put in the way of explosives. His two boys? Well, they’d be able to dodge the fireworks more effectively. Andy had told Logan about how well his younger brother had evaded his roping attempts; it made Logan more comfortable with the idea of bringing his other son along.

“All right, fellers. Reckon we grab about five of 'em for now. That’ll give Owen enough to get started,” Logan planned. “Andy was right. There’s a small encampment of roosters behind the house. We’ll grab those, then meet the girls by the yard.”

Logan and his boys came up on the group of roosters, who were getting ready to roost for the evening. Two were perched in a cactus tree, the other two nesting in the sand below, while the leader, a cock-a-doodle-doom, stood watch beneath the setting sun.

Its pink-tinted feathers shimmered in the dusklight. It surveyed cautiously, watching everything from the wild yakmel herd below to the orange sky above. It had yet to notice them on their approach—unsuspecting of the doom soon to befall its flock.

“What’s the plan, Pa?” his youngest asked, as they crouched behind a jagged stone.

Logan chewed the inside of his cheek in concentration. “Gonna need a distraction. Get the doodler away from the group—it’ll have to be something quick. Then the other two bag the rest of ’em. After that, we help whoever made the diversion.”

“Who’s gonna be the diversion?”

Andy and Logan shared a glance, then looked back at the third member of their party. He was the perfect bait, small enough not to scare the roosters, but fast enough to get away.

Logan could see it now. There were scattered feathers on the ground around them. He could secure them to his son, who would then issue a challenge to the leader, luring it away from the group. That would give Andy and Logan time to wrangle the rest, then rush after the boy to help him to safety.

“No. You wouldn’t,” the boy blubbered. “Pa, c’mon now.”

Logan placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “C’mon, son. Ain’t nobody got wheels like you. I’ve seen you run. That dumb doodler doesn't stand a chance. And before you know it, Andy and I’ll be right there to pull you out.”

“Don’t be a ninny. Promise we’ll get you before it gets too bad,” Andy added, punching his brother in the shoulder. “Just don’t scream too loud, or it’ll ruin the element of surprise when we go after the others.”

His younger brother sighed. “Fine. Just tell Ma I love her, and that I blame the both of ya if I get blown up.”

“It ain’t gonna happen, kid. Now let’s get these feathers on ya.”

The Builder had her daughter crouch low behind a thick desert tree, eyes wide with anticipation. Ahead of them, a cluster of Bumble Ants scuttled around a sandrice patch near the tracks, guarding their hill like little sentinels.

The moment the Builder took a step forward, the ants froze. Then scattered into a sharp defensive line.

“Alright, baby,” she called over her shoulder, steadying her stance. “They’re gonna throw. I’ll catch ‘em and toss ‘em to you. Let’s stock up—but no more than three, got it?”

“Roger that!” her daughter whispered back, giving a tight little nod, excitement dancing in her eyes.

The Builder squared her shoulders, spreading her feet wide, hands ready. The first pot came fast, but she snatched it out of the air like a pro and launched it backward with a clean arc.

“Catch!”

Her daughter snagged it mid-air, spun around, and dropped it safely at her feet.

“Nice one, Ma!” she hollered.

The second pot came in at a crooked angle, spinning too far to the left. The Builder lunged, one hand grazing the sand as she dove, snagging the pot just inches before it shattered. She rolled and came up grinning.

“Still got it,” she muttered, breath sharp with adrenaline. “Wanna take a crack at it, baby?” she asked, dusting herself off.

“Heck yeah!” her daughter beamed, already scrambling from behind the tree.

The Builder crouched beside her and gave a quick rundown. “Feet wide, hands up, eyes on the pots.”

Her girl mimicked the stance with serious focus. The ants began hissing, another volley incoming.

A clay jar spun through the air—her daughter caught it with a squeak of joy. “I got it! Look at me, Ma!”

But she turned her head for just a second too long.

A rustle. A hiss. The sand beneath them started to tremble.

“Ma! They’re chasing me!” she cried, as a squad of Bumble Ants broke ranks and charged straight toward her.

“Run, baby, go!” The Builder barked, drawing her weapon as her daughter took off sprinting toward the office at Eufaula Salvage, pigtails bouncing and boots kicking up dust.

Back at the southern rooster encampment, the youngest son crept into the line of sight of the cock-a-doodle doom. He crouched low, hands cupped around his mouth as he whispered a taunting, “Bock, bock, bock,” careful not to disturb the rest of the roosters still dozing in the sand.

Andy slid behind a rock, shoulders shaking with barely contained laughter. The sight of his brother strutting in a makeshift feather suit, calling out like a prize hen, was just too much. Logan noticed the grin creeping across his son’s face and shot him a warning glare. “You can laugh later. Focus. Your brother’s about to lead that doodler off.”

The cock-a-doodle doom perked up. It fixed a sharp-eyed stare on the intruder—this feathered interloper—who dared to step into its territory.

“Come and chase me, you stupid doodler,” the boy hissed under his breath, throwing a rock just past the rooster to get its attention.

With a screech like a bottle rocket, the doodler puffed up and charged, wings flapping wildly as it kicked up sparks with every stride. Its talons tore through the sand, launching little explosions with every step.

“Welp, here it comes!” the boy yelped, turning on his heel and sprinting for the hills.

He was fast, faster than his Pa had given him credit for, and despite the fireworks flaring behind him, he kept his cool, zigzagging across the plain like a seasoned sprinter.

Andy and Logan waited, breath held, watching the doodler vanish after their decoy.

 “Bag ‘em and tag ‘em, Andy,” Logan said, moving toward the unsuspecting flock.

They made quick work of the roosters, wrangling them into the burlap sack Andy carried. Just as they finished the last one, a sharp, ear-piercing scream rang out from half a league away.

“Shit…you’d best get to your brother,” Logan said, his voice tight.

Andy gave a sharp whistle, and Waylon came bounding over the ridge like a shot. “I’ll get him. You just worry about packin’ these roosters, Logan.”

“Bring your brother back in one piece, would ya? I’m gonna meet up with your Ma and sister.”

“‘Course,” Andy said, tipping his hat. He gave Waylon a nudge with his heels. “Let’s ride, boy.”

Waylon launched into motion, kicking up a storm of dust as they tore off across the plain.

The Builder took off in the direction her daughter had run. The ants were closing the gap fast. The girl kept glancing over her shoulder, eyes wide as the swarm crept closer. It was during one of those looks back that she failed to notice a large stone in her path. 

Until it was too late.

She stumbled, falling face-first into the sand. But she was quick, rolling onto her back and throwing an arm over her face to brace for impact.

Just then, Rocky appeared—his muscles glistening with sweat as he stepped between her and the oncoming insects. One particularly bold ant continued its charge, but Rocky snatched it up without hesitation and launched it clear past the Paradise Lost sign. A moment later, a disgruntled secretary bot blasted it into oblivion with a well-placed laser.

“Stupid bugs,” Rocky muttered, then turned to the Builder’s daughter, who was still catching her breath. “You alright, little builder?”

“Yeah, I think so. Thanks, Uncle Rocky. Those bugs would’ve had me if you didn’t help,” she said, brushing herself off as she stood.

By then, the Builder and Logan came running onto the scene, both of them clearly concerned for their daughter’s safety. But she was grinning from ear to ear.

“Ma! Pa! You just missed it! Uncle Rocky saved me and threw that bumble ant into Paradise Lost . It was awesome! I wanna grow up to be strong just like him!”

Logan chuckled and gave Rocky a nod. “Thanks, partner. Looks like she might be interested in takin’ a scrappin’ shift for ya,” he teased.

“Don’t mention it. And hey, me and the boys would never say no to free labor!” Rocky joked, giving the little girl a playful pat on the head.

The Builder didn’t say anything right away, but her eyes scanned the area. Something was off.

Logan had the burlap sack of supplies slung over his back, but the boys were nowhere in sight.

“Where are the boys?” she asked, a note of worry creeping into her voice.

“Reckon they’ll be home soon. Andy volunteered to save his brother,” Logan said casually.

“And why , exactly, did he need saving?”

“Well, you see, darlin’... we dressed the boy up as bait, and he lured the leader of the flock away while Andy and I bagged the goods. We heard a scream, so Andy took off with Waylon to go rescue him.”

“YOU WHAT ?” she shouted, her voice echoing down the tracks.

Waylon’s hooves thundered against the soft ground as Andy scanned the area for any sign of his brother. A trail of feathers was scattered across the sand, leading toward an abandoned cave near the waterfall. Human footprints ran alongside fowl tracks, both vanishing into the cave’s dark mouth.

“Whoa, boy,” Andy said, pulling up on the saddle bar. “Reckon he’s in there. Stay put for me?”

Waylon snorted, clearly disagreeing with Andy’s plan.

“Listen, partner…it’s just a doodler. I can handle it.”

The goat stomped and rolled his eyes, reluctantly accepting Andy’s decision.

“I’ll be back. If I need ya, I’ll give a whistle.”

Andy pulled a knife from his saddlebag, inspecting the blade with a quick flick of his thumb before tucking it into his belt loop. Then, with one last glance at Waylon, he headed for the cave entrance.

Once inside, Andy found his brother pinned against a stone wall. Most of the feathers had fallen off, revealing not a giant rooster, but a boy in serious trouble. His back was pressed flat against the rock, arms spread wide. A deep gash streaked across his cheek. It would definitely need stitches.

“Andy! Help me!” he cried out.

Andy sprang into action, stepping between his brother and the cock-a-doodle-doom. The rooster launched into its signature attack, flipping backward and firing off a barrage of fireworks. 

Rockets whistled through the air, targeting Andy—but he ducked, dodged, and weaved through the explosions with practiced precision.

As the rooster paused to reload, Andy closed the distance in a flash. With a quick swipe of his blade, he broke through the bird’s defenses. The doodle flailed in frustration, feathers flying as it launched one final desperate rocket.

Andy didn’t flinch. He pressed forward and delivered one final strike.

Clean, swift, and decisive.

The rooster collapsed to the cave floor in defeat.

As Andy rushed to his brother’s side, a stray rocket struck a nearby boulder, triggering a rumble that echoed through the cave. Dust and pebbles began to fall. Then the larger chunks.

“Cave-in!” Andy shouted.

He grabbed his brother and gave him a hard shove toward the entrance. “Run! I’m right behind you!”

With hearts pounding and debris crashing down behind them, the two boys scrambled out—just barely clearing the cave before the entrance collapsed in a billow of sand and stone.

They skidded to a stop outside, both of them doubled over, gasping for air and dry heaving from adrenaline and dust.

“That was close,” Andy said between breaths.

“Too close,” his brother agreed, clutching his side.

Once they caught their breath, Andy gently reached out and tilted his brother’s face toward him, inspecting the gash along his cheek. The younger boy flinched at first, then relaxed under Andy’s careful touch.

“I’m takin’ you to Fang’s,” Andy said, wiping some of the dried blood away with his thumb.

“You think Ma’s gonna be mad at me?” his brother asked, voice small now.

“No. She’ll probably go after Pa or me first.”

Andy then offered a hand and hoisted his brother onto Waylon’s back with a grunt. The goat shifted under the extra weight but stayed steady.

“What happened?” Fang asked softly.

“Cock-a-doodle-doom got a hold of me,” Andy’s brother replied.

Fang gently turned the boy’s head from side to side, checking for further injuries.

“Oooo, that’ll scar nicely,” X called from his perch.

“X!” Fang snapped, bringing a finger to his lips. “Hush now.” He turned back to Andy and his patient. “Ahem. I’ll be back shortly.”

When Fang stepped out of the room, Andy’s brother took the opportunity to glance at his reflection on the surgical table. He frowned. Would people laugh at the new blemish on his face?

“Scars are cool, brother. Don’t stress,” Andy said from the doorway, arms crossed and leaning casually. “They make you look more intimidating. And hey, chicks usually dig ’em, too.”

His brother relaxed, a small smile creeping in.  “Thanks for saving me, Andy. I know I give you a lot of crap, but… I think what you’re doing with Pa is awesome. When I get older, I wanna be a hunter with y’all too.”

“Give it time, buddy. You’ll be out there wranglin’ with us before you know it. But right now, I need you to be brave, alright? Stitches can sting a bit.”

“Alright. For the ladies, right?”

Andy chuckled, pulling him in for a one-armed hug. “Yeah, bud. For the ladies.”

Logan met his sons in front of the Blue Moon. He watched them as they approached. Andy was mostly unscathed, but his youngest had fresh stitches across his cheek.

He wasn’t upset with them. Hell, that was life on the trail. Sometimes you don’t make it back without a few scars and bruises.

“Well, boys, whaddya say we find out if this dish was worth all that hassle?”

“Sure, Pa.”

“Also, I was thinkin’ I might bunk with one of y’all tonight. Your Ma’s already plenty heated over the whole ‘bait’ thing, and seein’ Junior here with a scar probably ain’t gonna help my case.”

“We could sleep outside,” Andy offered.

“Yeah! Camping in the wilderness sounds awesome—or, well, at least in the workshop yard,” his brother chimed in.

“Works for me. Let’s grab our midnight snack first.”

As Logan and Andy’s brother laid their heads down to sleep beneath the stars, Andy stayed up a little longer, crafting a reply to Jasmine.

Jasmine,

Today I wrestled a cockle doodle doom that had my brother pinned in a cave not too far from the waterfall we used to visit. I managed to save him—but not without him earning a new scar. I told him the ladies love scars. You’ll back me up on that if he asks, right?

It’s a long story, but I’ll tell you everything when you’re back.

I’m sorry to hear folks in Atara haven’t been kind. Could be they’re just intimidated. Ma always says you’re a gem—and I gotta say, I agree. Keep your chin up. Sooner or later, they’ll see the sparkling person I do.

                                                                                                                                                    I miss you too.

                                                                                                                                                            Andy

P.S. Owen’s whipped up something new—chicken and waffles. You, me, and the Blue Moon as soon as you’re home

Chapter Text

Chapter 5 - You’re a Thorn in My Side

The summer sun peeked through the shade tree Andy had found himself dozing under. The gentle rustling of branches above made for a soothing lullaby, and the warm sand beneath him was just comfortable enough to lull him toward sleep. That was, until a sudden kick to his boots jolted him awake.

He groaned, refusing to open his eyes to see who had disturbed his afternoon nap. Instead, he rolled onto his side, determined to ignore the nuisance.

“Andy!” his brother yelled.

“What do ya want?” Andy grunted.

“Can we go fishin’? Pa’s out on a bounty, Ma went to her guild meeting, and Sis has tutoring with Miss Jane today.”

Andy cracked an eye open and saw his brother standing there with his trap, a tackle box, and a can of worms in his arms. His original plan had been to spend the day relaxing, as Logan had given him the day off after all. But the sight reminded him too much of his younger self to say no.

When Andy first arrived in Sandrock, he’d been about the same age his brother was now. Granted, the kid was a little taller and more solidly built than Andy had been. He had short white hair and cool-colored eyes that stared at Andy with an eager grin spreading across his face. Fine, he thought, he was a sucker for a fishing trip anyway. 

“Please, Andy.”

Andy sighed and sat up, brushing sand off his shirt.

“Alright, we can go. Let’s head back to the house and get Waylon, too. Poor goat’s probably itchin’ for a run.”

Andy and his brother mounted up on Waylon, who started off at a slow, steady trot toward the pond near the Paradise Lost gate. The boy sat closest to the bar, while Andy wrapped his arms around him, securing his smaller frame in the saddle.

“Doesn’t Waylon go any faster?”

The goat snorted in reply, clearly offended.

“Now you did it,” Andy said.

“Did what?” his brother asked, glancing back with a note of concern in his voice.

Just as the question left his brother’s mouth, Waylon snorted , lowered his horns, and launched .

Andy barely had time to brace before the goat surged forward, kicking up a storm of sand in his wake. The wind tore at their clothes as Waylon bolted across the plane, dodging boulders and broken salvage with reckless abandon. His hooves slammed into the ground like thunder, each impact jarring through the boys’ spines.

“Andy!” his brother yelped, clinging to the bar as they bounced in the saddle.

“Just hang on!”

Instead of the well-worn trail, Waylon veered off, leaping across a narrow ravine (airborne for a second too long) before landing with a heavy thud that nearly sent them flying. Andy grit his teeth, using one arm to lock his brother tighter against him as they barreled toward the pond.

A rock loomed up ahead. Waylon sidestepped at the last second, sending both riders crashing sideways. They skidded across the sand in a tangled mess, the heat of the grit scraping at their skin.

Waylon trotted a few steps more before rearing back, striking a pose like some kind of show pony. Then, with a satisfied snort , he dropped to the ground and stretched out in the sun, utterly unbothered.

Andy spat out sand and groaned, brushing dirt from his face. “Well… at least you learned not to question him anymore.”

His brother coughed, blinking up at the sky. “Yeah. Never again.”

Waylon responded with a firm nod, as if agreeing with the brothers. Then he promptly rolled over onto his side for a nap, completely satisfied with himself.

Andy scooped up their scattered supplies. Most of it survived the tumble, well except for the can of worms. It had popped open on the way down, sending the bait wriggling straight into the sand, burrowing out of sight like.

“Welp,” Andy muttered, tilting the empty can, “looks like our bait’s made a break for it.”

His brother sighed, shoulders slumping. “Sorry, Andy. Guess we can’t go fishin’ now.”

“Nonsense, partner. Just means we gotta wrangle up some new bait. Think you’re up for that?”

“Yeah, ‘course I am!” his brother said, perking up.

“Good. Keep an eye out near the rocks and sand grass. You’ll find worms, maybe even a scorpster or two. Just watch their stingers, they’re venomous.”

His brother gave a sharp nod, eyes scanning the terrain with new purpose.

“Ouch!” Andy’s brother yelped. “Yeah, you better run, stupid little jumper!”

“You alright over there?” Andy called, glancing up from the sand grass patch he was digging through.

His brother jogged over, lifting his shirt to reveal a thorn lodged in his side. He winced but held it together. Andy thought he was more annoyed than anything.

Andy crouched to inspect the wound. The thorn wasn’t buried deep, but pulling it out wouldn’t be fun. He guided his brother to sit on a nearby rock, then went searching for a sturdy stick.

“Here,” he said, handing it over. “Bite down on this while I get that thorn out.”

His brother complied, gripping the stick and clenching his teeth as Andy began pressing on the base of the thorn, guiding it back toward its entry point. He winced with each push, but to his credit, not a single tear fell.

With one final press, the spine popped free. A trickle of blood followed, but nothing serious. Andy stood and made his way to Waylon’s saddlebag, pulling out a small bundle of medicinal herbs.

He returned and gently pressed the salve against the wound.

“We’ve got enough bait,” he said, tugging his brother’s shirt back down. “Let’s catch us some fish, huh?”

His brother jumped up, grabbed his trap, and raced over to the pond. He squatted near the edge of the mud and began tossing worms into the water. Andy followed, settling beside him and watching as the carp began to rise to the surface.

His brother tucked the bait away and waited patiently, eyes tracking the growing cluster of fish. When several carp hovered around the same worm, he cast his trap with a practiced flick. The first throw netted a few small ones; the second brought in a fat, wriggling catch.

Andy couldn’t help but smile. The kid hadn’t had it easy these last few days. He’d been pinned by a cock-a-doodle-doom, stuck with a thorn—and still hadn’t shed a single tear. That grit, that quiet resilience… It was something Andy admired. 

He was definitely Logan’s son in that respect. 

When Andy was his age, he wore his emotions plain as day. The sadness when Haru and Grace left town. The anger when the Civil Corp jailed Logan for his past. And the hurt when folks assumed the Builder had betrayed them to side with Logan.

His brother didn’t show things the same way. Andy wasn’t sure if that meant he was stronger—or just growing up a little faster than he should.

“Andy! There’s a Sandfish King!”

“Well, what’re you waitin’ for, partner? Throw that trap in!” Andy called back.

With a determined swing, his brother hurled the trap toward the spot where the Sandfish King was feeding. The massive fish spotted it mid-air, but before it could dart away, the trap landed true—snaring it in one clean sweep. Andy jumped in to help reel it in, both boys straining against the weight of the wriggling catch.

They tumbled back in the sand, breathless and beaming, the Sandfish King flopping triumphantly in the trap beside them.

“Wait till Pa sees what we caught! He’s gonna be so proud of us.”

“He sure will, buddy. He sure will,” Andy said, clapping his brother on the back with a proud smile.

Andy and his brother sat on the front porch, playing a game of Critters. The sun was dipping low, casting long shadows across the yard as anticipation buzzed between them. They were just waiting now, waiting for their father to ride up, so they could show him the catch of the day.

With dramatic flair, they both slapped down their final cards.

“One… two… three—flip!”

Andy revealed an elephant. His brother laid down a wolf.

Andy leaned back with a grin. “Looks like your luck ran out after the fishin’.”

“Maybe,” his brother said, smirking. “But I’m still pumped about the King Fish we got.”

Just as Andy was shuffling the cards to put them away, he caught a glimpse of Logan riding through the gate on Rambo. The old goat gave a familiar snort, trotting steady toward the barn.

“Howdy, boys!” Logan called. “Lemme get Rambo settled, then I’ll play a few rounds with ya.”

Andy and his fishing partner stayed put, practically buzzing with excitement. As soon as Logan stepped back onto the porch, they didn’t even give him time to sit.

“We caught a King Fish!” they blurted in unison.

Logan raised a brow. “What? Ain’t those super rare?”

“Uh, yeah, Pa,” his brother said, beaming. “We put it in the fridge. We weren’t sure what to do with it.”

“I’m gonna go have a look,” Logan said, already heading inside.

He came back a moment later, holding the fish like a trophy and laying it down on the table between them.

“Well I’ll be,” he said, grinning. “Nice work, boys. Sell it to Owen. Should fetch a decent price. Just make sure y’all split it, alright?”

“’Course, Logan,” Andy said, nudging his brother with a proud smile. 

Owen, true to Logan’s word, paid the boys about twenty-five hundred gols, which they split evenly between themselves.

“Whatcha gonna buy?” Andy asked his brother.

“Think I could convince Ma to build me one of those mobile units like she built Director Qi?”

“I doubt it, kid. But you could ask her.”

“What about you, Andy?”

“Reckon I’ll save it for a rainy day.”

“Boooooooring,” his brother sighed.

As they stepped out of the saloon, a light sprinkle began to fall from the clouds above. It had been a while since Sandrock had seen any rain.

“‘Rainy day,’ huh?” His brother grinned. “How ‘bout we hit the Golden Goose instead? Play some Space Pilfers ?”

“You’re on, bud.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 6 - Put Up Your Dukes

Logan kissed his wife goodbye. He and Andy were heading out to the Eufaula Desert for the next few days to investigate a mob of Boxing Jacks.

Justice had put out a bounty on the area after reports came in that the creatures were moving inward toward the Shonash Bridge. One or two didn’t cause much of a fuss. But any more than that, and it turned into a problem real quick.

“We’ll be back before you know it,” he assured her.

The Builder gave him a weak smile. Being married to a monster hunter wasn’t easy. But then again, being married to a builder wasn’t either. There had to be a little give and take between them. They were both vital to Sandrock. She through expanding and improving the town’s infrastructure, and Logan by keeping those improvements safe, patrolling the perimeter, and extinguishing any threat that crossed into their territory.

Still, they made it work. Because despite the difficulty, they loved each other through it all. Logan admired her passion, her drive, and her uncanny ability to find solutions in a pinch. And the Builder? She loved his recklessness, his grit, and his relentless determination to protect the town he cherished.

Andy finished sifting through his saddlebag and turned back to his family. He wasn’t sure he was ready for a hunting trip just yet, but he trusted Logan enough to figure he must’ve seen something he didn’t. That was good enough for now.

His brother leaned into their Ma. He’d be the man of the house while Andy and Logan were away. Andy had already talked to him the night before about helping out with the workshop and making sure he and their sister were on their best behavior.

His sister was too young for any real responsibilities; he’d just told her to keep Ma company.

“Ya’ll be on your best behavior. ’Member what we talked about?” he asked his siblings.

They both nodded confidently and gave their Pa and Andy a hug before returning to their Ma’s side.

“Be safe. And if you run into anything you can’t handle…” the Builder paused.

“Make sure we come back and get help. I know, darlin’,” Logan finished, caressing her cheek and planting a long, slow kiss on her lips one last time.

Their time apart would be brief, but that didn’t mean it would be easy.

“Alright, let’s get out over that horizon,” he told Andy, settling himself into the saddle on Rambo.

Andy steered Waylon toward the front gate, guiding him along the railroad tracks that led into the Eufaula Desert.

Andy and Logan rode past the Yakmel Station just after the bridge. Andy scanned the area—he was familiar with it. Gecko Station was where his Ma used to drill for ores, and where, a long time ago, the Geeglers had a hideout. There was also the sand running course, where Logan and the family often went on outings.

Logan always came in last. Despite his skill riding Rambo, he never managed to apply the same finesse to sledding. The siblings usually traded off third and fourth place, it just depended on who was more on their game that day. But Andy and the Builder? They were as competitive as it came, often bumping their sleds against each other, each trying to gain the lead.

Then there was the monster hunter outpost. Not much had changed about it, aside from the addition of a proper watch post a few years back, courtesy of the Builder, of course. It was still painted that same old teal color. Bit of an eyesore, but Andy didn’t dare say anything to Logan about it.

The place held sentimental value. It was where Logan and his Pa used to stake out monsters together. Logan’s childhood hadn’t been the easiest, but the time he spent at the outpost? That part was worth remembering. His wounds from those darker days had long since healed, but the scars? They lingered. Teaching Andy the skills his father had once taught him seemed to mend a little piece of that past, the part Logan never liked to talk about.

“Just up ahead, Andy. We’ll park the goats and head on in,” Logan called back.

Waylon slowed as they approached the outpost, letting Andy dismount. The goat flicked his eyes around, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. He’d never been this far from home before. Andy noticed the tension in his mount’s posture and gave him a reassuring pat.

“Easy, boy. We got each other’s backs. You watch mine, and I’ll watch yours.”

Waylon tilted his head toward Andy and gave a firm nod, as if in agreement.

Logan pulled Rambo in beside Waylon and dismounted.

“What sounds good for dinner? I got some dried fish… or maybe you’re up for tryin’ something new? Reckon a pensky might be good eatin’, too,” Logan suggested.

“You’d eat a pensky?” Andy asked, wrinkling his nose at his Pa’s ability to eat just about anything.

“Used to cook it up in my signature Monster Gut Stew. It’s an acquired taste.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t wanna acquire it. Not unless I get desperate.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Problem is, you got too much of a sweet tooth. I know you got candy in that saddlebag, boy. What’re you gonna do when that runs out?”

Andy popped a small piece into his mouth. “I don’t know. Don’t plan on finding out, either.”

“Hey—gimme one of them.”

“Don’tcha wanna hunt a pensky?” Andy quipped, shoving the remaining pieces into his pocket.

“Why you little—” Logan muttered, shaking his head.

He turned back to Rambo and lifted his packed bag off the goat’s side. “C’mon. Let’s head in and talk Boxing Jacks.”

As Andy stepped into the outpost, he paused to take in the space that Logan knew so well. The small room was coated in a pale blue paint, chipped and peeling from age. A single bed sat tucked against the wall, a lamp mounted above it for late-night reading. If he found the time, Andy figured he might like to crack open one of Howlett’s journals.

“You can have the bed, Andy. I got a bedroll in my bag here,” Logan offered, already setting to unpacking.

Andy set his gear down at the foot of the bed and kept looking around. There was a modest cooking station with a pot still on one of the burners, a spice rack lined with jars, and a small, weathered dining table with two chairs pushed in tight.

It was homey in its own rugged way. He could see why Logan held this place close. It had just enough warmth in its worn-down comforts to chase off the kind of loneliness that crept in when you were too long on the trail.

Logan began rummaging through the bookcase with focused intent. He was looking for a specific journal. The one his Pa had written about the notorious roos known as Boxing Jacks. Aggressive didn’t even begin to cover it. If Andy was going to be tangling with those things, Logan wanted him to be prepared.

“Here we are,” Logan muttered, pulling the old journal from the shelf and giving it a light blow to clear off the dust.

He carried it over to the table and flipped through the pages until he found the entry he was after. Andy joined him, leaning in to scan the page over his shoulder. Howlett had written about dozens of creatures he’d seen and fought in the Eufaula Desert, but the section on Boxing Jacks was particularly detailed. He must’ve known his son would follow in his footsteps someday, so he did what he could to prepare him.

Boxing Jacks –

A well-muscled roo that resembles more man than beast. Their tall stature and fit physique give them a serious advantage in hand-to-hand combat. While they’re not afraid to go toe-to-toe with humans, they won’t hesitate to use their tail when the fight gets tight. Best-case scenario? Bring a gun... and lots of bullets.

“I’ve never shot anything before, Logan,” Andy admitted.

The thought unsettled him. Sure, he’d seen Logan fire a gun plenty of times. And even Ma had mastered the skill, but the idea of holding one himself didn’t sit right. He knew he’d have to learn eventually, to get comfortable with it. He just hadn’t expected it to be so soon.

Logan gave him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, son. I got just the thing to iron out that nervousness.”

Andy watched as the veteran monster hunter stood and retrieved his pistol. Logan pulled the revolver from his pack and began loading it with practiced ease. With a sharp snap, he locked it back into place, then turned and held it out to Andy.

“This here’s yours for a bit,” he said, offering the weapon grip-first.

Logan took his time walking Andy through the different parts. “Barrel, hammer, trigger, and grip,” he explained, pointing to each component in turn.

“Barrel, hammer, trigger, and grip,” Andy repeated, nodding along.

“Good,” Logan said with a firm pat to his shoulder. “Now let’s set up a little range outside.”

Logan stepped back to admire his handiwork. He’d lined up several metal cans along a sturdy deadwood log, each one spaced just right. 

Dusk was creeping in, casting a warm orange hue across the sand. The cicadas buzzed in the distance, their song mixing with the whisper of the wind.

Calm, steady, expectant.

He turned and handed the revolver to Andy. “Here. I wanna see what I’m workin’ with.”

Andy took the weapon, his hand trembling just slightly. An uneasy weight settled in his chest, making it harder to breathe.

“Andy…” Logan said softly. “Easy, partner. Just listen to me.”

He stepped up beside his son, adjusting his stance with a guiding hand.

“Speed’ll come with time. Right now, we just need you steady. Focus on your breathing.”

Andy steadied himself, raising the pistol and lining up his shot. He inhaled slowly, closed his eyes for half a second, then exhaled—and pulled the trigger.

The gun bucked hard in his hand, the sound sharp in the quiet desert air. The bullet flew past the cans, kicking up a puff of dust behind the log.

“This is stupid,” Andy muttered, frustration burning in his chest. “I’ll just use my knife.”

“You do that, and them Jacks’ll mop the floor with ya,” Logan said calmly. “Only way to get better is to keep tryin’. Ain’t nobody ever got good at nothin’ by givin’ up.”

But the misses kept coming. Shot after shot, and not a single can fell. Nearly twenty rounds later, and all Andy had to show for it was a sore wrist and a bruised ego.

He handed the pistol back to Logan without a word and stalked toward the outpost. Logan opened his mouth to say something, but the door slammed shut before he could.

Andy couldn’t shake the unease that crept over him the moment his hand touched the gun. Why couldn’t he just step up and fire it? Logan did it like it was second nature. No hesitation, no fear.

But that was Logan. Reckless, bold, forged in fire.

Years of experience had shaped Logan into a headstrong hunter. Someone who reacted first and damned the consequences. He’d softened over time, sure, fatherhood had done that. But the fire? That relentless drive to finish the job? That was still there. And Andy... Andy wished he had even a flicker of that same spark.

Sometimes, he wished he didn’t think so much. For Logan, action came easy. For Andy, everything was weighed and measured. That was just how he was wired, always had been. Even back when he was a kid, when he paraded around town pretending to be Bronco. That wasn’t just a game, that was bravery. He’d been willing to stand up for Logan and Haru, no matter the cost.

Even if it meant giving up his freedom.

Maybe what unsettled him most was how easy it was.

A gun didn’t ask for grit or struggle, just a squeeze of the trigger, and whatever you were aiming at could be gone in a flash. No warning. No second chances. A blade? That was different. It demanded presence. You had to be close. Had to feel it. A knife made you part of the moment. But a gun? It was just... an end.

Andy sighed and sank into the bed, turning his back to the door. He didn’t want Logan to see the disappointment written all over his face.

Didn’t want to hear more talk about "gettin' better" or how "it comes with time." He knew that. He did . But it didn’t make it any easier to stomach the failure.

The door creaked open.

"Andy?" Logan’s voice broke the stillness, soft, careful.

Andy didn’t respond. He just pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders, burying his face against the pillow.

Logan stepped in, boots thudding softly against the outpost floor. “Kid, I ain’t expectin’ you to be a crack shot right off the bat,” he said, easing down beside the bed. “Takes time. What matters is havin’ each other’s backs out here. I can’t do this without my partner.”

He gave Andy’s back a firm, comforting pat.

Andy sat up slowly, drawing in a deep breath before meeting his eyes. “I just don’t want you disappointed in me.”

Logan let out a quiet chuckle. “Disappointed? Hell no. Yer still green. Even the best strike out from time to time. You got the goods, son. You just gotta give yerself time.”

Andy nodded, chewing on the words. They helped—some. But that feeling still lingered, a whisper in the back of his mind: Was this what it was like for Logan, when he hunted with Howlett? Did he ever feel like he was falling short too?

“Did you ever feel like you disappointed Howlett?” Andy asked softly.

Logan paused, his gaze going distant. That question had haunted him more than once. He’d even spoken to the Builder about it before.

“Guess I’ll never know if I ever made my Pa proud. But all I can do is keep on keepin’ on,” he’d told her once.

“If you don’t wanna talk about it, Logan, I ain’t gonna force ya,” Andy added quickly, sensing the shift.

Logan shook his head. “No, it’s alright. Reckon I always wondered how he’d feel about the way I’ve handled things. My recklessness these past years… the choices I made.” He let out a quiet breath. “Me and him were cut from the same cloth, but different patterns, y’know? He had his ways, and I had mine.”

He paused again, looking down at his hands. “I try not to dwell on it. Just keep movin’ forward. But yeah… I wonder.”

Andy could see a bit of insecurity weighing his mentor down. It was strange seeing Logan like this. Growing up, Andy had always seen him as mean, reckless… a total badass. But in this moment, it felt like he’d tapped into something deeper. Something that needed to be said.

“Think our paths crossed for a reason, son,” Logan said, his voice lower now. “I never got to tell my Pa how much he meant to me. Never got to thank him for the things he taught me. And I…” He paused, his words catching. “I think I’m supposed to leave a legacy. Be that person for someone else. When we found you out in the desert… I saw a chance to do more.”

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. It was thoughtful. Honest.

Logan drifted into his own thoughts, and Andy followed suit. Maybe fate really had brought them together. Logan, seeking redemption. Andy, searching for belonging. And somewhere in the middle of all that—legacy.

Logan had become Andy’s main parental figure. After losing his parents years ago, it was Logan who made sure he was never alone. It was because of Logan that Andy found purpose again—and no longer felt like an outcast.

“Thanks, Logan,” Andy said quietly.

Logan offered a small smile as he pushed himself up from the edge of the bed. “We got an early day tomorrow. Can’t let them Boxing Jacks get any closer to town.”

“I hear ya,” Andy replied, settling back and pulling the covers up around him.

Andy slid off the back of Waylon and crouched near the tracks, inspecting the impressions in the sand. The edges were crisp, freshly made. He could see multiple sets. The exact count was hard to tell, but it was definitely a group.

“Think they’re headed toward Shonash Cliff,” Andy said, letting a pinch of sand fall through his fingers. “There’s some ruins over that way. Be good shelter for ‘em.”

“Then let’s get mounted back up. We’ve got a mob to deal with,” Logan replied, nudging his heels into Rambo’s sides.

When they reached the ruins, both dismounted. Andy reached for his daggers, gripping them with steady hands. Logan did the same, though he also grabbed his revolver, holstering it at his side. He gave Rambo and Waylon a nudge, sending them off to find a safe spot out of the way.

“We’ll give ya’ll a whistle when we’re ready to pull out, boys. Go on—git!” Logan called, giving Rambo a light swat on the rump.

Rambo reared and bolted off, hooves kicking up dust as he disappeared into the dunes. Waylon wasn’t far behind, following his lead with a defiant snort.

“C’mon, let’s get after them roos.”

Andy stuck close as they entered the ruins, scanning what remained of the old world. Crumbling stone and rusted metal jutted from the sand like broken bones. It was quiet—too quiet. A gnawing sense of unease twisted in Logan’s gut.

They weren’t alone.

Something was watching them. From where, he couldn’t tell.

They moved slowly, every footstep calculated. Andy’s hand hovered near his daggers, while Logan kept his fingers curled around the grip of his revolver.

“I don’t see anything,” Andy whispered.

“They’re here… we just gotta—”

Logan didn’t get to finish.

A smaller roo launched itself between them, landing squarely in front of Logan. It bounced side to side, sizing him up, then lunged. Quick jabs came fast (cheap shots) but Logan deflected them with practiced ease. Each attack came closer than the last, but a sharp crack from his revolver dropped the creature before it could land a solid hit.

Logan barely caught his breath when two more jacks appeared—bigger, broader, muscles rippling beneath their fur. They didn’t waste time.

One slammed into Logan, sending him sprawling. His head hit the ground with a sickening thud. Andy flinched at the sound. Logan groaned, disoriented, groping through the sand for his gun.

But it was gone. Knocked from his grip in the fall.

He clawed at the grit, searching blindly. Too far. Out of reach.

Andy spotted the pistol lying in the sand. In a single, fluid motion, he snatched it up. For a split second, he just stared at it. His heart pounding, and his breath shallow.

Then he looked up.

The Jacks were closing in fast. Logan was on the ground, clutching the back of his head, dazed and hurt. The fall had done damage—maybe a concussion, maybe worse.

A fire lit in Andy’s chest. It wasn’t panic, not fear, but something sharper. A raw, focused fury surged through him, anchoring him in place.

Logan was down. He was vulnerable.

I have to protect him.

I have to protect my Pa.

In one swift motion, Andy brought the revolver up to eye level.

Grip tight. Aim. Hammer. Trigger.

The shot cracked through the air. The bullet struck one of the Boxing Jacks in the shoulder. It let out a sharp cry, reeling from the impact, then turned its fury on him.

The second Jack followed, bounding forward.

Andy didn’t hesitate. He fired again.

The round hit true. The wounded roo collapsed in a heap, unmoving.

The last Jack froze, looking from Andy to its fallen comrade. Then turned tail and bounded off, vanishing into the dunes.

Andy rushed to Logan’s side.

His eyes were closed, his breath shallow, drifting in and out of consciousness.

“Logan!” Andy shouted, panic rising in his chest.

Logan mumbled something incoherent, words slurred and lost.

Andy let out a sharp whistle for the goats. When Rambo and Waylon galloped up, he moved fast—stowing their weapons into the saddlebags, hands shaking. Every second felt like it was slipping through his fingers.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Andy, focus.

He gritted his teeth and hoisted Logan’s limp form onto Waylon’s back, careful not to jostle his head. It wasn’t graceful, but it was enough.

Andy climbed up behind him, securing them both before clicking his tongue.

“Go, Waylon. Take us home now!”

The goat surged forward, hooves tearing into the ground as they raced toward the town.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7 - No Goats, No Glory

The Builder sat in her lounge chair in the living room. It had been one day, three hours, and sixteen minutes since Andy brought her husband back from the desert. He was unconscious, pale, and barely breathing.

She had slept, barely.

The image of Logan, her Logan, laid up and helpless haunted her thoughts. He was supposed to be indestructible. But now he was upstairs, recovering from an injury she couldn’t fix with bolts or a blowtorch.

She was scanning over a set of diagrams Wei had requisitioned when the creak of the bedroom door echoed through the house. She’d meant to oil the hinges—but right now, she was glad she hadn’t.

Logan, fully dressed, came limping down the stairs. He made for the front door, reaching for his hat on the wall hook, unaware of the eyes tracking him from the shadows.

Until a soft click of the floor lamp being switched on.

“Ahem,” she said, one eyebrow arching sharply. “Whatcha doing there, yakboy?”

Logan jolted, clearly startled.  “Oh hey, darlin’.” He tried to play it cool, tipping his head with a sheepish grin. “Just goin’ for a night ride. Helps clear the head, y’know?”

She folded her arms across her chest, leaning back in the chair. Her stare was sharp enough to gut a lungfish. 

“You know what else clears a head after a concussion? Rest. Now go back upstairs.”

Logan took a slow step closer, laying on the charm like thick syrup. “C’mon, doll. Little bump on the noggin ain’t gonna slow me down.”

Logan came in close and rested his hands on her hips, gently pulling her toward him. She let him, his familiar musk wrapping around her like a warm blanket. He leaned down and began planting slow, soft kisses along her neck.

She wasn’t a fool. She knew exactly what he was getting at.

“Reckon’ somethin’ else could clear my head,” he murmured.

The Builder pulled back just enough to smirk at him. “Fang said no physical activity.”

“Ain’t like I’m takin’ on a Boxing Jack or runnin’ a marathon. Just thinkin’ ’bout spendin’ some much-needed time with my wife,” he whispered, grazing her ear with his teeth.

She hesitated, considering. She had missed him, after all.

“Fine. But you rest after,” she warned, pressing a finger into his chest.

Logan threw up his hands like a scoundrel caught red-handed. “Yes, ma’am. After you?” he asked, tipping his head toward the stairs.

        Andy,

              Ma sent me a letter about Logan. I’m sorry to hear he was injured. I know how much he means to you. 

              I also heard, you’re the reason we don’t have to worry about Boxing Jacks coming into town. I think what you did was super brave, and I’m really proud of you for following your dream. 

              It’ll be nice to know when I come home, that I have you always protecting our town. 

                                                                                                                                                       Let me know if I can help.

                                                                                                                                                                     Jasmine

“How’s Jasmine?” Ma asked from the porch, watching her son grin at the paper in his hands.

“Fine, Ma. She said it’ll be nice knowing I’m out here protecting the town.”

The Builder smiled softly. Andy was growing up so fast. It didn’t seem that long ago he’d been causing chaos in the streets with a pocket full of marbles and too much energy for one kid. She was proud of him. He’d proven himself in the desert, protecting Logan and bringing him home safe.

She didn’t want to admit it out loud, but sometimes she missed that little spitfire of a boy. Still, she loved the man he was becoming. Someone others would look up to, just like his Pa.

“Hello,” Fang said, his quiet voice breaking through her thoughts.

“Howdy, partner. Come to check in on Logan?” Andy asked.

“Yes,” Fang replied with a slight nod. “But also…I have a request. I was wondering if you might be available to assist me?”

“Sure,” Andy said, shrugging. “We can talk after you see Logan.”

“Of course. May I… come in?” he asked, glancing to the Builder.

She gave him a small nod and opened the door, stepping aside to let them both in.

When they entered, Logan was camped out on the couch with one of Howlett’s journals. His color had improved with each passing day, and his vision—though still sensitive to sunlight—was getting better too. That was why the curtains were pulled shut and the room was dimmer than usual.

One look at him, and it was clear: he was antsy. Being cooped up the last few days wasn’t his idea of a good time. He craved the outdoors, and he was hoping today would be the day Fang cleared him for active monster hunting duty.

“Still a bit… pale,” Fang diagnosed. “Recommend another day of rest.”

“C’mon, doc. I’m itchin’ to get back out there. You mentioned needing some venom for your meds. Lemme get it for ya,” Logan pleaded.

“Logan…” his wife growled.

Logan let out a long exhale and turned his attention to the curtain-drawn windows. He wasn’t happy about this. Being cooped up, doing nothing, only gave him time to think. And he hated thinking too much.

“I can handle it, Logan. You need to rest. If you get injured again, monster hunting might not be something you can do at all,” Andy said, trying to encourage him.

“Yer right,” Logan submitted with a grumble.

Fang dug into his satchel, pulling out two small pills. He handed them to the Builder. “Last ones. Have him take one now, then one before bed.”

“Think you can handle that, big guy?” she asked, turning to look at Logan.

“Hmmph,” he grunted in response.

She set the pills on the table next to him and headed for the kitchen.

Andy gestured for Fang to follow him outside so they could talk business. He didn’t want Logan to overhear, especially since it would only make him more insufferable. And the last thing they needed was him stirring up more trouble than he already had. Though, if anyone could keep him in check, it was Ma.

They stepped outside and walked over to the gate.

“Need… venom,” Fang said. “Can you get it… for me? I ran out, and I need it for a patient’s prescription. The sooner, the better. Willing to pay you.”

“Don’t worry about paying me, Fang. You’ve done a lot for us. Reckon this makes us square.”

Fang gave a small nod, acknowledging the deal, and walked back toward the clinic.

Andy stood there for a moment, thinking. How was he supposed to get past Logan with this one? The man could read him like a book, and now Andy was about to go on a hunt without him? That wouldn’t go over well. Not one bit. Especially not when it was something urgent.

“Goin’ somewhere, are ya?” Logan asked, watching as Andy strapped his daggers to his belt.

“Well, Fang needs that venom,” Andy replied. “You’re bedridden. Someone’s gotta do it.”

Logan chewed the inside of his cheek. It hurt. More than he cared to admit. Watching his son gear up for a hunt without him? That hit harder than any Boxing Jack ever could. He knew this day would come. He just didn’t think it’d come this soon. 

There were still so many things left to teach him.

“The stuff he’ll want, you’ll have to get it from Tripions,” Logan said. “Regular ones should do the trick. Just don’t go messin’ with a punished one. They pack more of a punch.”

“Got it,” Andy replied, adjusting his belt and heading for the door.

“Andy!” Logan called after him. “Take my revolver, and the Super Shock Shield. Works best against those lightning blasts.”

Andy grinned, grabbing both from the nearby shelf. “Don’t worry, Logan. I’ll be back by dusk.”

“I’ll hold you to that, partner,” Logan said, his voice softening just as the front door clicked shut.

Logan sat in silence, lost in his thoughts. He wondered if this was how his Pa had felt whenever Logan took off on hunts with Justice. It was a strange mix. Pride, frustration, and a quiet ache that settled deep in his chest.

Andy was growing into a fine hunter. A good man, too. He stepped up for his siblings without being asked. He’d pulled Logan out of the fire when those roos came out swinging. Yeah… the kid was doing well. More than well.

The part of Logan that was angry? That was on him. He’d allowed himself to get hurt. Allowed himself to get ambushed. He should’ve known better. Should’ve seen the signs, done more—anything but wind up flat on his back, laid up on the couch.

And the sadness? That was harder to shake. It came from knowing the truth: Andy might be ready. This tripion hunt would prove it. And if he succeeded… maybe he wouldn’t need Logan anymore.

“Gol for your thoughts, love?” the Builder asked, settling down beside her husband.

Logan sat quietly for a moment, weighing whether it was worth saying out loud.

“Guess I got a wound that ain’t healed yet,” he said finally. “It really bothers me, darlin’—that I’ll never know if my Pa was proud of me. I tell myself to just ‘keep keepin’ on,’ but… I don’t know if I can.” He sighed, voice dropping softer. “Watching Andy grow up like this, takin’ on a hunt without me... it just makes me feel empty again. Like I ain’t got a place.”

“You need to relax, babe. I think being inside for so long has given you too much time to think,” she responded, pulling him to her chest. “He’s still got a lot to learn. And you’ll be on your feet soon. Just gotta make it one more day.”

Logan gave her a half-hearted smile, still stewing in his thoughts.

She cupped his cheek, and made him face her.

“I love you. You’re a great man to me, and the best Pa to our children. Howlett would be amazed at how far you’ve come. You are needed, you are wanted. Don’t ever doubt what you mean to this family, Logan.”

“Thanks, darlin’. Talkin’ to you? Always makes my wounds feel more like an itch.”

Andy knew of a Tripion nest tucked away in the eastern reaches of the Eufaula Desert. The place was like a maze. If he didn’t remember how he got in, there was a good chance he’d never find his way out.

The dusty sandstone carved a narrow path toward the nest. Andy and Waylon moved quietly, each hoofstep soft against the ground as they stayed alert for any signs of ambush.

He spotted the telltale signs. Tunnels carved into the stone. A good sign, but also a warning. They were deep in Tripion territory now.

Andy’s nerves stirred. This wasn’t just another hunt. This was a test of everything he’d been taught up to this point.

“Tripions bark like dogs, and they won’t hesitate to hit you with a lightning blast. You gotta be quick, but also mind your distance. Those claws ain’t a joke, either. You’ll need a different kind of weapon for ‘em. Maybe someone’ll come up with something.”

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     -Howlett’s Journal, Eufaula Desert Edition

Andy remembered reading that journal entry just before setting out. Good thing Howlett had been such a dedicated note taker, it came in handy in moments like these.

Waylon came to a sudden stop, stomping his hoof against the ground and letting out a sharp snort.

“What’s up, partner?” Andy asked his mount softly.

Waylon shifted uneasily, scanning the rock walls surrounding them. The goat stood still, alert and tense, waiting for something unseen. Andy followed Waylon's gaze, carefully observing their surroundings.

It was strange that they hadn't encountered anything yet. Usually, Tripions swarmed this area; the venom should have been a quick grab-and-go. So why was it so quiet?

Andy’s grip tightened slightly on the bar. “Alright boy, move slow. Be ready for anything,” he whispered, clicking his tongue quietly.

Waylon flicked an ear back to acknowledge Andy and moved forward slowly, picking his way carefully over the sand and stone.

It was then that a bark rang out behind them. Then another. And another.

Before Andy or Waylon could turn to get a look, three Tripions came scuttling from the shadows, closing in fast.

Andy slid off the saddle and grabbed the Super Shock Shield, planting his feet in a ready stance. This was going to be a tough fight, he could feel it.

A lightning blast surged toward him, and Andy raised the shield just in time. True to its name, the Super Shock Shield absorbed the energy with ease, then pulsed outward, redirecting the blast straight back at the charging scorpters.

It was enough to knock one onto its back—Tripions couldn’t right themselves once flipped. But the other two didn’t even slow down.

They surged closer, and Andy raised the shield again.

This time, when the lightning struck, the shield cracked with a harsh snap, splitting clean in two. Looked like Logan had put it through more fights than it could handle.

“Dammit,” Andy hissed.

He reached for the revolver at his waist, drew it fast, and fired two shots. Each one landed true. One of the Tripions shrieked as it collapsed, twitching in the sand.

Andy turned toward his mount and took a deep breath.

“Well, three Tripions should have enough venom for Fang. You think, boy?”

Waylon blinked, then gave a firm nod. Andy took that as agreement and got to work collecting the venom.

Just as he finished draining the last Tripion, Waylon’s head snapped up from the patch of desert flowers he’d been grazing on. Andy didn’t hear it yet, but the goat did. The sharp scrape of claws on rock. The distant, guttural barking—closer now. Getting closer fast.

They needed to go. Now.

Waylon let out a warning bleat.

“I know, Waylon. Almost finished up here,” Andy replied, brushing him off.

The barking grew louder, echoing off the canyon walls.

Waylon stomped once. Then, without warning, he marched over and bit a chunk of Andy’s hair, giving it a firm yank.

“Hey! What’s the big idea?” Andy yelped, stumbling back.

And like a scene straight out of a movie, a horde of Tripions came into view, marching right toward them through the canyon pass.

Andy’s eyes went wide. “Well why didn’t you say something sooner?”

Waylon rolled his eyes with a dramatic meh , then turned his back toward Andy.

Andy didn’t need more of a cue. He vaulted onto the saddle. “Go! Go, go, go!”

Waylon took off like a shot, hooves tearing through the sand as they barreled deeper into the canyon.

Logan’s children entered the house after school to find their Pa gazing out the window, watching and waiting for Andy to return. They noticed the nervous set of his shoulders and exchanged a glance—time for a distraction.

They hatched a plan on the spot: their best performance yet. A pretend monster hunt in the house. If Pa couldn’t be out in the wild, then they’d bring the excitement to him. Let him feel useful, even while laid up for the day.

Logan’s daughter took center stage in her bedroom, climbing onto her bed and letting out a dramatic, guttural scream. Her brother sprinted to the living room to retrieve the hero of their story.

“Pa!” he yelled. “You gotta come quick. Little Sis found a big spider in her room! We need your help to get it out!”

Logan sprang up from the couch and grabbed his hat. He was all in—if this was the only excitement he’d get today, then so be it. No spider was going to get the best of his family.

“Where’d it go?” Logan asked as he burst through the bedroom door.

His daughter—an outstanding actress, by the way—was spouting fake tears and dramatically pointing under the bed.

Logan dropped down low, pressing himself flat against the floor as he began pulling out boxes and toys, trying to get a look at where the bug might be hiding.

All the while, his kids stayed close, frantically trying to figure out how to keep Logan occupied. 

“Under the dresser?” Logan’s son mouthed, careful not to make a sound.

 His sister shrugged. She hadn’t expected the plan to get this far.

The boy weighed his options, knowing their jig would be up unless they committed to something fast.

He quickly flung one of his sister’s dolls at the wall near the dresser and shouted, “Pa, over there! It went under the dresser!”

Logan pulled himself up off the floor and marched over, determined. No creature—real or imagined—was going to best him today, even with a bum head.

“That was my favorite doll,” his sister whispered, scowling at her brother.

“Hush! I’ll getcha another one.”

Upon further inspection, Logan could see no trace of the spider anywhere. He’d been outsmarted by his two children. But little did they know, their Pa was a master of tall tales himself.

“Hmmph,” he grunted in defeat. “Reckon it’s gone now. Hopefully it doesn’t come back. Would hate for y’all to get bit or something.”

The two children shot each other a look, suddenly worried.

“What do you mean? Is it bad to get bit by a spider, Pa?” his daughter asked, her voice growing concerned.

“Oh yeah,” Logan said with a serious nod. “If you get bit, you should expect a slight burning sensation… right around your belt line. It’s awful. Happened to me once, wouldn’t wish it on either of you.”

Logan’s son looked confused for a moment before repeating, “A burning sensation around the belt line?”

“Yeah, son. Believe there’s a certain phrase for it,” Logan said, pausing for dramatic effect. “Let me think here… oh yeah! Liar, liar, pants on fire, ” he grinned, claiming victory over his children.

Both kids groaned. “Not funny, Pa.”

Andy was glued to the saddle as he and Waylon tore across the dangerous terrain. Behind them, more Tripions had joined the horde, skittering fast and gaining ground.

“H’yah, Waylon! H’yah!”

The goat rounded a corner hard, hooves digging into the sand as he pushed to outrun the beasts. But no matter how fast they moved, the sound of barking and scraping claws stayed right behind them.

“Ah, shit…” Andy muttered, eyes locking on the path ahead.

A dead end.

Waylon skidded to a stop, hooves kicking up a cloud of sand. Andy looked around, heart pounding, searching for any kind of way out.

There wasn’t one. Not that he could see, anyway.

“Well,” Andy muttered, patting his mount’s neck, “looks like this is it. It’s been real, Waylon.”

He wasn’t giving up—not really. But trying to come up with some wild plan to slip past a horde of lightning-happy Tripions felt about as useful as yelling at a dust storm. Charging back through would be suicide. At least if they stood their ground, they could go down swinging, and on their own terms.

Waylon, on the other hand, had a different idea.

His eyes locked onto a narrow ridge just above them. It was too high for any normal goat to reach. But Waylon wasn’t just any goat. He could make that jump. He knew it in his bones.

Without hesitation, the mount backed up, inching closer to the approaching horde.

Andy shifted in the saddle, confused and a little frantic. “Wait—Waylon? What are you doing? Hold up—”

Waylon ignored his rider and charged forward, launching into a full-speed leap toward the ridge above them.

Andy clung to the bar, teeth clenched and heart pounding. His whole body tensed against Waylon’s, silently praying to Peach that they’d make the jump.

He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the impact of hooves hitting stone. His breath caught in his throat—he wouldn’t exhale until they were back on solid ground.

When they landed, it came with a jolt. Andy lost his seat and tumbled off, landing hard in the sand. He didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. He just laid there, wide-eyed, soaking in the wild truth of what had just happened.

Waylon had saved them both.

Waylon got to his hooves and trotted over to Andy, who still wasn’t moving. He nudged him, worried he might’ve hurt his best friend during the flight.

Andy suddenly rolled over and blew a sharp breath into Waylon’s nose, startling the goat. Before the mount could react, Andy reached up and grabbed his horns, scratching right between them.

“You just saved my ass, ol’ boy. And I love ya for it.”

Waylon leaned in, curling his neck around Andy’s shoulder and pulling him into a firm, goat-sized hug. They stayed there a moment, hearts still racing with adrenaline.

“Think that’s enough excitement for today,” Andy said, catching his breath. “What do you say we head on back home?”

Waylon gave a sure nod, then nudged Andy up into the saddle. With one last glance toward the canyon behind them, the two turned toward the setting sun and galloped for home.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8 - Mind Your Breaches

                    Jasmine—

                               I came up with another weapon to use when I’m out hunting. I’m calling them the Steel Swipers. I know, I know. Not the best name, but it’s a work in progress. They’re just a prototype anyway.

                              Qi and I have been working on the blueprints together. I’ll probably have to head into the Breach to collect the parts we need. Ma insisted on coming along since she knows more about the dangers down there than Logan.

                              Not that Logan can’t handle a robot, but Ma’s got way more experience when it comes to ruins. She goes diving in them all the time, so I figure she’s my best bet.

                              Anyway… I’ll keep you posted. Figured when you’re back, I’ll show you the current version, or maybe the improved one, if I can manage it by then.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        Wish us luck.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               —Andy

-----

Andy sat at the desk Qi had set up for him, sketching out the latest design for the Steel Swipers.

After several failed attempts—and a mocking pile of crumpled paper spilling from the trash can—he finally felt like he was getting somewhere.

Back when he was younger, his Ma and Logan had agreed he should take lessons from Qi. It was a way to channel his endless energy into something productive. His Ma figured it’d keep his mind busy (since boredom usually led to mischief), and Logan... well, he still bragged about Andy’s idea for the Super Shock Shield. They both figured Qi could help shape Andy’s curiosity into something useful, like better gear for hunting or building.

Now, years later, Andy’s fingers brushed across the blueprints, his brow furrowed and his bottom lip caught between his teeth in focused concentration.

The Swipers were designed to slip on like a glove. When the wearer applied pressure to the palm, four steel claws would launch from the knuckles with a satisfying click.

They offered flexibility in close combat, perfect for delivering a full-metal punch or dealing a nasty slash. But they weren’t just for fighting. The claws could be used to dig through tough ground, climb steep walls, or—if things got desperate—skewer meat over a fire like a kabob stick.

Qi came stalking down the stairs, yawning, surprised to see his protégé still scribbling away at the desk. Even he had to admit: rest was often the best remedy for an inventive mind.

“Andy, it’s nearly midnight. What are you still doing here?” Qi asked.

“I almost got it. Just a few more hours and I’ll have it perfect,” Andy replied, his eyes never leaving the paper. “Didn’t mean to wake ya.”

Qi had yet to meet another individual who matched his enthusiasm for technology, new or old. Andy, though a bit uncultured, had proven himself a strong peer in the field.

They couldn’t be more different. Qi was structured, disciplined, and obsessively detail-oriented. Andy, on the other hand, was… well, “willy-nilly,” as some might say. But Qi respected the ideas he brought to the table.

Qi often pushed for the development of new weapons—ideas that Trudy usually vetoed, given the events of the Day of Calamity and the Church’s lingering concerns. Still, she never dismissed the suggestions that came from the yakboys, especially when it involved protecting the town.

Tonight was no different. He had to admit Andy’s diagram had piqued his interest.

He sighed and walked over to the desk. “Why don’t I throw on some tea? Then I’ll have a look at what you’ve come up with. I imagine it’ll need some tweaks.”

“Sure, Director,” Andy replied.

Qi handed a cup of Summer Sand Tea to Andy as he stood over his shoulder, looking at the sketches he had drawn for his new weapon.

Andy accepted the cup, took a gentle sip, and hummed in contentment. The subtle taste of mint and the soft undertones of hyacinth flowers were just enough to refresh his overworked mind. Qi had even added a spoonful of honey to sweeten the mix.

“You’ll need to use a strong but lightweight metal for the gauntlets,” Qi said, eyes scanning the blueprints. “It’ll help absorb any damage your normal hand would take if you punch a rock.”

He waited patiently for his junior researcher to come up with the material on his own. Qi already had a solution in mind, but this project was meant to be Andy’s. He wanted him to push through and make the weapon his own.

Qi had helped significantly with the Super Shock Shield, so giving Andy more freedom on this one felt right. It was time to see how far he’d come.

“I was thinkin’... chromium,” Andy said, glancing at Qi for confirmation.

“Good. That’s what I would’ve chosen, too,” Qi replied with a small nod. “Now, what about the ‘swipers’?”

“Moonstone,” Andy answered. “It can cut through the toughest hides and can be used for climbing. Plus, it’s fashionable.”

Qi chuckled. “Ah yes, fashion—very important. Especially when being sported by yakboys and girls.”

Andy rolled his eyes and tucked the rolled diagram under his arm, ready to head home. His Ma could build the weapon in no time.

“When you’re finished building and testing it, bring it back here,” Qi added. “I want to see if I can modify the design for harvesting produce at the moisture farm.”

“’Course, Director,” Andy replied, tipping his hat before disappearing into the night. 

Andy approached the doorstep, carefully easing the front door open. It was nearly three in the morning—everyone was likely asleep by now. He hung his hat by the door and started toward his bedroom, only to pause at the soft stir of movement from the living room.

Though it was early morning, it seemed he wasn’t the only one awake.

“Got something to show me?” his Ma asked from her chair.

She was curled up in her lounge wear, glasses halfway down her nose, a copy of The Atara Times folded in her lap, no doubt scanning for any articles written by Jasmine.

Andy jumped. “Ma! You really gotta stop doin’ that. It’s like you’re just waitin’ to scare the shit outta someone. Logan told me you did the same thing to him.”

The Builder rolled her eyes. “Betcha he didn’t tell you how it ended, did he?”

Andy promptly stuck his fingers in his ears. “Not listenin’...la la la!”

She chuckled, stepping over and gently taking the rolled-up diagram from his pocket. She unrolled the paper and studied it closely, her eyes flicking between the materials, measurements, and sketched-out details.

It was always fascinating to watch her work. Her mind just… ticked differently. Builders had to be cut from a different cloth. She’d read the diagram, offer a few suggestions, and somehow have the thing built by morning. Andy only wished his brain moved as fast as hers.

Her brow furrowed, and she tilted her head slightly.

Andy frowned. Had she found something wrong?

“You’ll need some simple circuits to get that pressure plate to work,” she said, tapping a corner of the paper. “I think I’ve got all the parts in the shop.”

Andy’s shoulders slumped a bit. He’d secretly hoped they could take the day to hit The Breach. He’d never been, never tested his skills against the old-world tech that lurked below the town.

The Builder noticed. “But where’s the fun in that, huh?” she amended. “Think we got two options: you could tag along with me over to Rocky’s scrapyard, or we hit The Breach.”

Andy mulled it over. Logan never talked about venturing into The Breach, which made it feel like new ground. He’d heard stories of old-world tech bots, patrolling the ruins. Robots weren’t like monsters—they didn’t breathe or growl. But their routines? Their weak spots? Seemed like the perfect proving ground.

“We could hit The Breach together,” Andy offered. “Nothin’ like a little Ma and son bonding over crushin’ some mechanical skulls, huh?”

The Builder smirked. “Sounds like a plan. Let’s get some shuteye, then we’ll gear up.”

Andy yawned. “Won’t argue with that.”

Logan sat at the dining table with his youngest son and daughter, a bowl of tomato soup steaming in front of him. It was one of Andy’s favorites. To his surprise, though, Andy and his Ma were skipping lunch entirely, rushing out the door with purpose.

“Hold it!” Logan called after them. “Where are y’all headin’ off to?”

The Builder and Andy turned back, slightly hunched like they’d been caught, small grins tugging at their faces.

“The Breach,” the Builder said. “Andy came up with a new weapon design. We’re heading in to grab parts.”

“Need a hand? I ain’t workin’ on nothin’ today,” Logan offered.

“We got it, hun’. Appreciate the offer, though,” she replied, leaning in to give him a quick peck on the cheek before stepping out.

Logan turned to his son and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I wouldn’t take anyone else with me when fightin’ ol’ world tech, but keep an eye on her, yeah?”

Andy gave an affirmative nod and followed his Ma out the door.

Logan turned back to his other two children and shrugged. “Well, partners. Looks like it’s just us today. Y’all wanna do somethin’?”

“Pa! Could I learn how to ride today?” his son asked, eyes bright. “Watchin’ Andy and Waylon’s got me wantin’ a goat of my own someday. We wouldn’t have to go far, just ’round town?”

“I could ride with you, Pa,” his daughter chimed in. “I don’t wanna stay at the house by myself.”

Logan pondered for a beat. Rambo could use the exercise, and Merle was a bit hot-headed, but gentle enough for a couple of young’uns to learn on. What could be the harm?

He smiled, already grabbing his hat. “Alright then. Get yer boots on. Y’all are learnin’ the basics of goat ridin’ today!”

Andy followed his Ma down the stairs into what looked like an old reception area.

Boxes lined the back wall, stacked high with dusty office supplies. A check-in desk stood near the center, flanked by two faded swivel chairs that looked like they hadn’t been touched in decades. Andy paused, taking it all in.

How did anyone work like this?

His job kept him outside—sun on his skin, wind kicking up the sand, endless blue skies above. He couldn’t imagine being trapped inside some fluorescent-lit office for eight hours a day. Folks back then must’ve been built differently to endure that kind of life.

His eyes scanned the room, eventually landing on a vending machine beside the door leading deeper into the ruins.

“The Civil Corps sponsors these things,” his Ma explained, nodding toward it. “You can trade in junk you find for better gear, parts, meds—whatever’s stocked in there. You probably won’t need it though. You’ve dreamed up better stuff than half the things it spits out.”

Andy smiled at the compliment and stepped into the ruins.

The Builder kicked off their search by promptly smashing a wooden crate against the wall.

“Whaddya doin’ that for?” he asked.

“Scavenging’,” she replied casually. “Crates like these hide all sorts of things. Meds, materials, sometimes even ammo. Always pays to be thorough in a new place. Your Pa likes to rush in guns blazing. Me? I like takin’ my time. Keeps me from missing anything important.”

Andy nodded and joined in the crate-breaking effort.

She was right. He found a strong medicine bottle, a few pistol rounds, and a couple of power stones. Not bad.

The meds were always useful given the kind of danger he got into regularly. The ammo? He’d give that to Logan, at least until he got his own revolver. And the power stones? He’d keep those. They’d be perfect for charging up the Steel Swipers once they were done.

They continued through the first floor, collecting old parts and sorting through junk, when a strange beeping came from behind one of the metal crates.

Andy placed a hand on his dagger and crept toward the source of the beeping.

He crouched near the crate, brow furrowed. Something felt off. He could’ve sworn something had been there.

Resting one foot on the edge, he exhaled slowly. Being down here was exciting, sure. But it was also unnerving. He’d trained with Logan, seen a lot. Still, this was different. This was old-world tech. And no amount of journal notes from Howlett could’ve prepared him for what came next.

The crate beneath his foot flew upward.

Andy was launched backward, crashing into a wall with enough force to make his ears ring. He nearly collided with The Builder on the way.

She dodged out of the way just in time. “Andy! You alright?”

“Yeah, Ma,” he grunted, shaking off the impact. “Reckon that hauler’s in for it now.”

He pushed to his feet and fell in at her side, blade drawn and ready.

Keep her safe, yeah?

Logan’s words echoed in his head. He trusted his Ma. He knew she could more than handle herself—but having someone watching your back was always smart. Especially in a family like theirs.

Andy took the lead, baiting the hauler toward him. The machine’s movements were slow—sluggish compared to the monsters he was used to. That gave him confidence. He could work with this.

The hauler reared up and slammed its weight down in an attempt to crush him. Andy rolled aside, dodging cleanly, and struck twice at the glass shielding the trotter pilot inside.

The Builder took that as her cue. She launched herself up onto the machine’s back and yanked out the power stone fueling its systems.

The hauler let out a warped groan and collapsed, sending a tremor through the floor.

As it fell still, Andy reached into the cockpit, grabbed the trotter, and finished it with a clean slash.

“Pull the circuits from the trotter,” his Ma said. “We’ll need that wiring for the pressure plates.”

Andy nodded and dug out the components from the back of the trotter’s frame. His eyes drifted to the cannon mounted on its arm—his mind already racing.

“Think I could turn this into some kind of plasma gun?” he asked, holding it up.

“You could take it to Qi, see what he says. You two together? I’m sure you’d figure something out.” She turned, already heading for the next stairwell. “We still need more parts. Ready to head down a level?”

Andy gave the trotter one last look, snapped the arm cannon from its frame, and fell in step behind his Ma.

Rambo, Logan, and his daughter slowly followed Merle and the youngest son into the town square. The sun shone down on them, and a slight desert breeze tousled their hair.

Logan was proud of all his children. They were the perfect mix of him and The Builder. His son, especially, was proving that today with his natural ability to ride Merle.

He was confident, which was half the battle when it came to riding. If you were sure, your mount was too. Andy and Waylon had proven that, especially after the canyon jump Andy had described. 

That goat and boy had become firm friends, and now they could accomplish anything together. It made Logan smile. As he and Rambo shared that same kind of bond.

“Yer doin’ good, bud. Keep her steady,” Logan called to his son.

“What about me, Pa?” his daughter asked.

She was seated in front of him. She was too little to ride on her own just yet, but that didn’t stop her from being the social butterfly she was. She waved at everyone they passed on their way into the square. Logan could’ve sworn she’d be the next mayor someday. With her determination and her momma’s smarts, there wasn’t anything she couldn’t do.

“‘Course, sweetheart. Yer keepin’ Rambo right in step with Merle. I’m proud of both of ya.”

They continued their ride, climbing the steps to the Church, where they found Justice and Cooper mid-squabble.

“Oh phooey! Whatcha mean I can’t start a ridin’ circuit ‘round town? The Civil Corps could sponsor it, and we’d get some fundin’ for whatever it is y’all do ‘round here,” Cooper argued.

Justice shook his head and sighed. “Coop, we can’t have you mowin’ down citizens with your yakmel. Fang’s already busy enough as it is.”

“Oh, but we allow the use of yakmels in what’s essentially bumper carts?”

“I ain’t explainin’ it again,” Justice said flatly. “Just be mindful of pedestrians, please.”

He spotted Logan and the kids approaching and gave a nod. “Howdy, partners. Enjoy your ride. it’s a nice day for it.”

Logan nodded in return, then locked eyes with Cooper.

“We’re in for it now,” he whispered to his daughter.

“Howdy, friends!” Cooper called, strolling up with a mischievous grin. “Reckon you could spare ol’ Grandpa Coop a moment of yer time?”

The kids perked up instantly. They always loved time with Cooper. Logan, on the other hand, wasn’t thrilled, but for his children’s sake, he stayed. Besides, he owed Cooper for all the years he’d kept him on the straight and narrow as a kid.

“Seems our dear sheriff don’t take too kindly to my idea of starting up a racin’ circuit around town,” Cooper huffed. “I think it’d be a great idea! Bring in some tourists, get a few bettin’ pools goin’. Sandrock’d have to be renamed Greenrock by the time we’re done.”

“You could always take it to Trudy,” Logan offered dryly. “She’s always open to ideas for town improvement.”

Then Logan noticed the smug smirk forming on his son’s face, and that never a good sign.

“But Grandpa Coop,” the boy said, voice full of challenge, “how’re you gonna race on a yakmel? Them’s the slowest rides there is. You couldn’t beat our goats if you tried.”

Logan’s eyes widened. He looked down at his son. Them’s fightin’ words. And he knew Cooper wasn’t about to let ‘em slide.

“That’s a load of yakmel crap,” Cooper scoffed. “Ol’ Brown Jack could run circles ‘round y’all.”

“I doubt it,” the boy said, full of confidence.

Logan leaned back slightly in the saddle, watching the exchange unfold like a poker hand at the Blue Moon. Either his son was about to learn a lesson in humility or Cooper was about to get dusted by a nine-year-old.

Cooper’s jaw dropped, but he shook it off quickly. With a twinkle in his eye, he rode over to Merle and gave the goat a firm swat on the rump.

Merle reared up, startled, and took off down the road, her tiny rider hanging on for dear life.

“You did that on purpose,” Logan growled.

“What gave ya that idea?” Cooper chuckled. “Best go save your mini-me before he gets bucked off… or worse.”

Logan adjusted his daughter’s grip, placing her hands firmly on the side bar.

“Hold on tight,” he said. “We’re goin’ for a real ride now.”

Andy and The Builder descended to another level, fighting through a few more trotters on the way down. They just needed to gather some metal coils for the strikers, and then they could make their way back up to the surface.

As they walked, Andy took in the scenery around him. The dim halls of the old facility buzzed with faint electricity, wires snaking from broken panels, and the soft whir of forgotten machines hummed in the background. His mind wandered.

What had life been like back then? Did they all work in high-tech places like this? If this was their workplace... what were their homes like? Their towns?

“I can hear your thoughts from here, Andy,” his Ma said with a smirk, not turning back. “I bet you’ve even got the same look Logan does when he’s mulling something over. Go ahead, lay it on me.”

“You think people in the Old World lived like we do?” he asked. “I mean… they seem more advanced, sure, but it’s weird. Feels like we’re walking through the past and the future all at once.”

“Yeah,” she said, glancing around. “I’d say they did, more or less. They had families, careers… they built things, just like we do. It’s hard to see it in a place like this, but I’m sure back then, it wasn’t all glass and wires. I doubt they were dealing with monsters on their lunch breaks, though. Well, atleast not until  after the radiation winter.”

Andy frowned. “Miguel always talked down about technology in his Sunday school lessons. Guess I never really questioned it much. But now… I don’t know. Can you tell me your version of what happened? I’m curious.”

She chuckled. “Well, I’m no teacher of the Light, Andy. Burgess would likely cringe at the way I tell it. But for you? I’ll give it a shot.”

Andy’s Ma shared her version of the events that had unfolded in the old world, her voice calm and steady as they moved through the ruined halls, gathering supplies along the way.

“Some say it started with the Age of Corruption,” she began. “Back when people created robots to handle everyday tasks, and power stones first came into use. Life got easier, too easy. Folks lived like kings in high society.”

Andy glanced down at the power stone in his hand, connecting the story to the reality around them.

“But I think it really began with the Day of Calamity,” she continued. “That’s when people stopped using technology to help one another, and started using it for war. Whole cities burned. Nations crumbled. Humanity nearly wiped itself out.”

Andy stayed close, his eyes scanning the shadows of the old office space, but every word his Ma said echoed in his ears.

“The ones who survived… they went underground,” she said. “Lived there for generations. Away from the sun. Away from the monsters. Away from each other. They didn’t come back up for almost two hundred years.”

Andy paused, taking it all in. The stillness of the ruins pressed around them like a memory.

“Then came the Age of Darkness,” she continued. “People suffered from famine, and couldn't grow food on the surface. They called it the ‘radiation winter.’ New nations were formed, civil wars broke out… but it was also when the Church of the Light came to be. They prophesied someone would rise and disperse the darkness.”

“That was Peach. I remember that part,” Andy said, nodding.

“Correct! And during that time, ruin divers and builders started emerging, too. Back then, they were separate trades,” she added with a chuckle. “Now, you see folks like me doing both.”

As they continued forward, Andy stumbled upon a damaged sweeper bot and made quick work of it. He knelt beside the wreck and pried open a panel on its chest.

“Bingo. Got our metal coils.”

“Wonderful!”

Andy looked back at his Ma. “Think you could finish the story on the way up? Yours is a whole lot more interesting than Miguel’s Sunday school sermons.”

She smiled warmly. “Sure, baby. Let’s head home.”

“Peach created a machine that tore through the darkness in the sky, freeing the world from what had plagued it,” The Builder finished. “That’s why he’s so revered in all the Free Cities.”

Andy and his Ma reached the surface just in time to see a streak of dust whip past them—Merle, kicking up sand at full speed with Andy’s brother still clinging to the saddle.

“Somebody stop this dang goat, please!” the boy cried, bouncing in the seat.

The Builder froze, pointing toward the cloud of dust. “Was that…?”

“I think so,” Andy replied, blinking.

Logan and his daughter weren’t far behind, Rambo galloping as fast as his sturdy hooves could carry him.

“Hey hon’!” Logan called out as he passed. “Be back in just a moment!”

Cooper brought up the tail end of the goat parade, his yakmel plodding along at a slow, steady pace. “H’yuck, h’yuck… Ride, Sally, ride,” he sang, tipping his hat toward the sky with a big ol’ grin, content to follow the chaos unfolding ahead.

Logan’s daughter giggled as she clung to the saddle bar in front of him. Rambo galloped through the town, hooves thudding against the packed sand. They weaved around barrels and benches, kicking up a steady trail of dust behind them.

“You havin’ fun, are ya?” Logan asked, keeping his eyes ahead as they stayed tight on Merle’s tail.

“Yes! Best day ever, Pa!” she laughed, bouncing slightly with every stride.

Logan grinned, glancing down at her. “Just make sure if yer momma asks, you tell her you were perfectly safe and this was all totally planned, m’kay?”

“You got it!”

Merle was starting to slow up now, panting hard from the run. Logan’s son was still holding on, arms stiff around the saddle bar, doing his best to keep upright.

Logan nudged Rambo forward. “H’yah, Rambo. H’yah. We’re close now.”

They gained on Merle quickly. Logan reached for the rope he’d tied to his saddle earlier, giving it a quick loop and swing. With a clean toss, it landed around Merle’s neck. He gave it a steady tug—not too hard, just enough to get her to stop.

The goat gave a stubborn stomp and a huff before skidding to a halt. Logan’s son breathed out, shoulders sagging like the tension finally let go.

“You alright, bud?” Logan asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded, still catching his breath. “She’s fast.”

Logan smiled, guiding Rambo in closer. “Blame yer Ma for that—she’s got a need for speed.”

His daughter giggled again, clearly having the time of her life. Rambo flicked an ear and gave a proud little snort, like he knew he’d done good.

“That was a humdinger, if I’d ever seen one, son. Just like yer daddy, ain’t ya?” Cooper called out, finally catching up to the group.

“More than I’d like to admit,” The Builder replied, walking up beside Andy.

“Darlin’, I can explain,” Logan said, throwing his hands up in defense.

Just as he was about to launch into his excuse, Justice and Unsuur arrived on the scene.

“That’s it. Y’all are gettin’ citations. I told you—no racin’ in town!”

“You’ll never catch me, sheriff!” Cooper hollered, kicking Brown Jack into motion and tearing off down the road.

“Not again—come back here, you ol’ man!” Justice shouted, taking off after him. “Unsuur, make sure Logan gets his citation!”

Unsuur gave a solemn nod and pulled out his notepad.

“Now listen, partner. Reckon we can work something out?” Logan tried.

“Sorry, Logan. I gotta do what Justice says.” Unsuur handed him the ticket and rode back toward the Civil Corps office.

Logan unfolded the citation, eyes narrowing at the scrawl.

Citation: 0 gols due to the Civil Corps by never.

He showed it to his wife, who rolled her eyes so hard it looked painful.

He counted his lucky stars. Peach only knew what kind of trouble he’d be in if he’d actually gotten a real ticket and let the kids run wild today.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9 - Papa’s in the Pen

“You’ll never catch me, sheriff!” Cooper hollered, kicking Brown Jack into motion and tearing off down the road.

“Not again—come back here, you ol’ man!” Justice shouted, taking off after him. “Unsuur, make sure Logan gets his citation!”

Cooper rode hard toward his homestead. Mabel would surely have his head if he had another run-in with the local law.

He glanced over his shoulder. Justice was only a few strides behind. For a moment, Cooper felt confident.

That is, until the Ataran Express blew its horn.

Brown Jack spooked hard, jerking to the side and tossing his horns in the air as he demolished the picket fence that lined the Oasis. Cooper slid halfway off the saddle, clinging to the side of his yakmel for dear life.

“Dangnabbit, you scaredy-cat! C’mon now, let me back up!”

But the yakmel paid no mind to his hollering and took another sharp turn. This time launching Cooper clean off and straight into the oasis with a mighty splash.

Cooper touched the bottom of the pond and came back up sputtering, coughing out the excess water he’d inhaled.

 “Puh—puh—damn yakmel. Good for nothin’, ain’tcha?” he shouted, treading water.

Brown Jack, unbothered, turned his rump to Cooper and took off in the direction of the Wandering Y, leaving his rider stranded.

Justice slowed up on Truth and chuckled as he trotted closer. “Howdy, Coop. Were you headin’ somewhere?”

“Just help me outta here, would ya?”

“Sure, partner. But you’re comin’ down to the office for processin’.”

“Processin’? For what?”

Justice gave a dry smile. “Buddy, I already got three charges on ya. You wanna tack on obstruction of Justice too?”

Cooper sighed, water dripping from the brim of his hat as he weighed his options. He didn’t want to give Justice the satisfaction. But at this point, it was probably better to go quietly than try and outrun him again.

“Fine,” he muttered, submitting.

“Good choice, partner,” Justice replied, tossing a rope into the oasis.

Cooper grabbed hold and let himself be pulled to the edge. By the time he climbed out, he was soaked from hat to boots, a trail of water puddling behind him.

He took a moment to collect himself, fanning out his hat with a sharp flick, then wringing out his poncho with a scowl.

Justice waited, arms crossed, until Cooper was done. Then he gestured toward the Civil Corps office with a knowing smirk. “Let’s go.”

“Reckless yakmel driving, disturbing the peace, and fleeing a Civil Corps officer,” Justice read aloud, flipping through his notepad. “Reckon you oughta just stay in the holding cell tonight. Give ya some time to think about runnin’ from the law again.”

“Alright, partner. Just… don’t tell Mabel, aight? She’ll have a fit,” Cooper pleaded, hanging his head.

As if summoned by his words, the front door slammed open with a bang that nearly made Justice hit the floor. Sweet, dessert-makin’ Mabel had arrived, and she looked furious .

“COOPER!” she barked.

Cooper jumped so hard he practically scrambled up the stairs and locked himself in the holding cell without another word.

Mabel stormed in, hands on her hips, eyes blazing. “What in Peach’s name were you thinkin’ , runnin’ from Justice? Have you lost your mind?”

“Well, ya see—it’s all his fault,” Cooper stammered, pointing from behind the bars. “He wouldn’t listen to me about my racin’ idea. Then Logan’s little rugrat got to smart-mouthin’ me, and I had to prove a point!”

Mabel blinked. “You had to prove a point… to a nine-year-old?”

“Well yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

She groaned and rubbed her temples. “We’ll pay for the damages, Justice. Just send the invoice in the mail.”

Justice, still catching his breath, gave a slow nod. “Will do, ma’am.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Cooper,” Mabel huffed, storming out with just as much fire as she’d arrived with.

Cooper watched her go, then glanced around the holding cell. With a shrug, he plopped down on the cot—the same one countless delinquents had probably used before him.

He kicked off his boots, let out a long sigh, and began to hum a tune to himself. It had been an eventful day for the ol’ boy, and right now? A nap sounded just about perfect.

Justice watched the old timer nod off, soft snores already drifting from the cell. With a quiet sigh, he turned to the small stack of papers on his desk—namely, the citation Unsuur was supposed to have written up for Logan.

Citation: 0 gols due to Civil Corps by never.

Justice brought a hand to his forehead, slicking his hair back in disbelief. “Unsuur… I swear,” he muttered.

When the morning sun rose and shined into the window of the holding cell, Cooper stirred slightly. He wasn’t fully awake, but not entirely asleep either. 

“Meow!” Captain sounded.

“Lemme sleep, you little varmit,” Cooper said. 

Captain had taken the keys from the desk, and placed them into the key slot. He then jumped up to turn them, and pushed the hold cell door open. 

Cooper remained unmoved, and his eyes remained closed. 

Captain flung himself onto the bed, and took Cooper’s face between his paws. Batting his cheeks back and forth between them.

“MEEEEOWWW!!!” Captain yowled. 

Cooper jolted awake, sitting up and knocking Captain to the floor. 

The deputy hissed, and strolled back down the stairs.

Cooper followed, retrieving his belongings.

“Better head on out, before I get charged with assault of an officer.”

“Meow!”

Chapter Text

Chapter 10 - Rockyenaroll All Night Long

“Again!” Logan barked.

Andy was sparring with him in the high-noon heat of the arena, testing out the Steel Swipers. So far, they were holding up well against Logan’s brutish attacks.

The chromium gave Andy the flexibility he needed without sacrificing durability, while the moonstone held strong against the scrape of Logan’s blades. All in all, the prototype was a success.

With a few more tweaks—tightening a bearing here or there—Andy figured they’d be ready for the trail. What he really needed, though, was to test them against something unpredictable. Logan, for all his experience, wasn’t that.

“Logan! Andy!” Jensen called out, breathless and stumbling toward them. He was hunched over, dry-heaving.

Logan glanced at Andy, then nodded toward the conductor. Whatever it was, it seemed urgent.

“Whatcha got for us, partner?” Andy asked.

“Rockyenarolls…” Jensen wheezed. “They won’t stay off the tracks. I’m afraid one of these days we’re gonna hit one.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?” Logan laughed, elbowing Andy.

Jensen didn’t find it funny. “Yes, Logan, it would. We’re on a strict schedule, and those delays? I don’t like 'em.” He squinted, arms folded tight. “I hate delays.”

“Alright, Jensen,” Logan said with a sigh. “We’ll handle it for ya.”

“Much obliged, gentlemen,” Jensen smiled, tucking his pocket watch back into his vest as he hustled off toward the station.

Andy looked down at the Steel Swipers strapped to his hands. This might be the perfect test. Rockyenarolls had notoriously thick hides—it’d show if the moonstone claws could really cut it. And if something didn’t hold up? Well, that just meant he’d have an excuse to tinker with a new version.

He did promise Jasmine he’d show her the Swipers, whether the current ones or an upgraded model. No way he was gonna disappoint her now.

“You wanna give it one more round?” Logan asked.

“Nah,” Andy said, flexing his fingers. “I wanna test ‘em against something with a little more vinegar.”

Logan raised a brow. “Whatcha tryin’ to say there, son?”

“Just sayin’ I wanna save ‘em for a real test. This is alright, but it ain’t the real thing. Out there? Out on the trail? That’s where I’ll know if these are worth a damn.”

Logan huffed and stepped back into the arena. “C’mon. One more round. And I ain’t gonna make it easy on ya.”

Andy weighed his options. Pretty sure he’d bruised Logan’s ego with the vinegar comment, but it was kinda funny, watching him get all butt-hurt over a passing jab.

“Fine. One more round,” Andy said, cracking his knuckles. “Just don’t whine when I kick yer ass.”

“Doubt it,” Logan replied.

They each stepped back to their respective corners, mentally preparing for the spar ahead.

Andy had grown a lot in recent weeks. He was more confident now, more thoughtful in everything he did. Logan wasn’t some wild monster, not to Andy anyway, but this was still a good test of his skills.

Logan? Well, he wanted this. Not for his own sake, but so Andy could see just how far he’d come—and how proud of himself he should be.

“DRAW!”

Logan surged forward, his blades steady in hand. Andy triggered the Steel Swipers, launching the moonstone claws from his knuckles.

When Logan made contact, metal clashed against metal with a loud screech. Sparks could’ve flown from the force.

Andy’s heels skidded across the mat as Logan pressed into him. The sheer weight behind the veteran hunter almost knocked him back onto the ropes, but Andy held his ground.

Logan gave a confident smirk before backing off into a defensive stance.

“Your turn,” he said.

Andy didn’t hesitate. He launched himself into the air, twisting mid-flight before crashing down onto Logan. Their blades met with a violent clang.

When Andy landed, his strike broke through Logan’s block. One claw stopped just shy of leaving a brand-new scar across Logan’s cheek.

“Sheesh,” Logan chuckled, stepping back. “Them things pack a punch.”

Andy glanced down at his hands, admiring the craftsmanship. “Reckon they do. How ‘bout we call it a day?”

Logan nodded, a little winded but smiling. “Sure, partner. Let’s head on back to the homestead.”

Rockyenarolls are some of the most obnoxious fiends I’ve ever encountered. Their laugh alone is enough to make your skin crawl. If that ain’t bad enough, just wait until you try to take one down. Thick hide, wild attacks—they make it near impossible to land a solid blow.

They never come alone either. Always in packs. Best not to go after 'em without backup. You won’t last long.

                                                    —Howlett’s Journal, The Grand Mesa Edition

“There’s bound to be a den up in the Grand Mesa area. We take out the pack, and Jensen won’t have to worry about ’em comin’ near the tracks no more,” Logan said, packing supplies into Rambo’s saddlebag.

“What’s the usual number for it to count as a pack?” Andy asked.

“‘Bout ten to fifteen. They’ll be scattered ’round the area, but we’ll try not to stir ’em up too much. We’ll want to take out the alpha. Do that, and the rest should clear out for a while.”

“What’s so special ’bout an Alpha?”

“Welp, they’re usually females. And killin’ one can be a chore of its own. Bigger, stronger, and got a hell of a temper if provoked.” Logan gave a dry chuckle. “Reckon her and yer momma got somethin’ in common.”

Andy thought about it for a moment. When he heard “Alpha,” biology usually told him it’d be male. Interesting that in this case, it was the opposite.

But then again, if humans could elect women leaders, why couldn’t monsters? If she fit the role, use it to your advantage.

“What’s the plan then?” Andy asked, swinging up onto Waylon’s back.

“Thinkin’ we camp out at the den entrance. Alpha should show herself ‘round dusk. We’ll be roughin’ it for a few hours.”

“Should I bring a deck of Critters then?”

“Yeah,” Logan smirked. “We’ll need somethin’ to do while we wait.”

Logan followed suit, swinging up onto Rambo. The two kept pace with one another, riding side by side as they exited the yard and followed the tracks east—toward the quiet, red-streaked cliffs of Sandrock’s outer edge.

It was a short ride before they encountered their first group of Rockyenarolls, the beasts dozing in the warm desert sun.

They were sprawled out on their backs, soaking up the rays. Ears flicked and paws twitched in the air and if someone didn’t know any better, they might’ve thought they were just oversized, goofy puppies. 

But the boys knew better. It was best to let sleeping dogs lie. Their focus wasn’t on the low-ranking pack members. it was the Alpha they were after.

“We’ll get off here,” Logan whispered, sliding down from Rambo. “Can’t risk wakin’ 'em. We’ll lead the boys to a campsite I picked out.”

Andy nodded, quietly dismounting and crouching low to the ground. Each step was deliberate, careful not to crunch the gravel or stir the air too much.

“Keep downwind, Andy. Can’t risk ‘em smellin’ us either.”

“You sayin’ I stink? ‘Cause—”

“Shh…” Logan interrupted, bringing a finger to his lips a bit more aggressively than necessary.

Andy rolled his eyes but kept quiet, falling in line behind his Pa as they led their goats through the narrow pass. The crunch of the sand under their boots was minimal, but even so, it made Andy’s heart thump a little harder. One wrong move, one bad gust of wind, and they'd have a pack of snarling Rockyenarolls on them.

They crept along the ridge, eventually reaching a small overlook near the mouth of a jagged cave entrance. Logan gave a soft whistle and motioned to the flattened patch of sand he'd clearly used before.

“This’ll do. Good view, decent cover, and close enough to make a move when she shows.”

Andy tied Waylon to a nearby rock, who gave a gruff huff but settled down. Logan did the same with Rambo before easing himself down on a boulder.

It was early afternoon still, so they’d be camping out for the next few hours. 

Andy dropped his pack. “So… critters?” he asked, already pulling out the deck.

Logan chuckled. “Let’s see if you play as good as you talk.”

Andy shuffled the deck, the worn corners snapping softly as he dealt four cards to himself and Logan. He glanced up, studying his Pa’s face.

He’d watched Logan play enough rounds of cards to know his tells. If Logan liked his hand, he’d bite his bottom lip—just a little. If he wasn’t confident, he’d tilt his head to the side, like he was weighing his options with the wind.

What Andy didn’t know—at least not fully—was that Logan had him figured out too. If Andy drew a good card, he’d slam it down like it owed him money. If it was bad? He got real polite with it, like the card might bite.

Logan smirked. He’d have to teach the boy how to keep a better poker face before even thinking about bringing him to poker night at the Blue Moon.

“Wolf,” Andy said, flipping over his card.

“Elephant,” Logan replied.

“You always play your big cards first.”

“And you always open with a wolf.”

They kept at it for the next few hours, trading quips and flipping cards. Every few rounds, Logan glanced toward the cave entrance, eyes narrowing in case the Alpha decided to stir. And when he wasn’t looking?

Andy was.

Logan was just about to turn over his card when a low, eerie chuckle echoed across the way.

He dropped his hand and crawled toward the rock shielding them from view. He peeked over the edge, just enough to get a glimpse, not enough to be spotted.

Andy followed his lead, moving in quietly and settling beside him.

They both watched, eyes fixed on the cave entrance.

A dark red and purple-maned female emerged, massive in size and unmistakably dominant. Another followed behind her—clearly male, but smaller, almost meek in comparison. Logan hadn’t been lying. She was huge. Had to have at least fifty pounds on him.

The Alpha stretched, her claws digging into the grit, then let out a long yawn before shaking herself off. Her mate trotted to her side, offering a nuzzle.

Then, the female laid down, tail flicking, and presented herself.

The two of them got... busy.

Andy blinked, brow furrowed. “Logan…” he whispered. “What are they doing?”

Logan gave a stiff exhale through his nose, scratching the back of his neck. This was not the time. This was definitely not the place. And yet, here they were. Crouched behind a rock, watching an alpha rockyenaroll and her mate get real cozy at the mouth of a cave.

“Well…” Logan muttered. “Reckon what you’re seein’ is… uh… nature takin’ its course.”

Andy’s brow arched higher. “So they’re—?”

“Yup,” Logan cut in quickly. “Like when a yakmel really likes another yakmel. Or, uh… when two rocket roosters get the urge to build a nest together.”

Andy turned beet red. “Oh. Oh. ”

Waylon gave a low grunt and looked away, as if he was embarrassed for both of them. Rambo huffed like he’d seen this all before.

“We gonna… just wait ‘til they’re done?” Andy asked, eyes wide.

“We ain’t monsters,” Logan said flatly. “Let ‘em finish their little love tumble, then we strike.”

Andy turned his attention back to the pair at the cave, his face still burning with embarrassment.

“Do you know how long they’ll be?” he asked, sheepishly.

Logan let out an awkward laugh. “Uhh… no, I don’t. My Pa skipped a journal entry on the mating rituals of rockyenarolls.”

Andy nodded, accepting the answer. “This just feels wrong. Imma sit back with Waylon.”

“Good call,” Logan agreed.

Andy settled down against Waylon. For all the goat’s size and strength, he made for a surprisingly comfortable cushion.

Andy could feel himself nodding off when Logan gave him a sharp slap on the leg.

“They’re done. Quit’cha dozin’,” he ordered.

“That was fast,” Andy muttered, straightening his hat.

Logan let out a loud snort, and immediately clamped his hands over his mouth, realizing too late what he’d done.

The Alpha reared her head, ears twitching like radar dishes. She took a deep, dragging whiff of the air, then locked her fearsome eyes on the rocks where Logan and Andy were hiding.

She bared her teeth and let out a low, husky growl.

“Now you did it,” Andy hissed.

“Shut up and grab yer swipers already!”

The Alpha let out a throaty chuckle , like gravel grinding in a tin can, and charged.

Logan pulled both blades from his back, kicking off the rocks and rushing to meet her halfway. Andy followed close behind, activating his Steel Swipers with a loud click as the moonstone blades shot out from his gauntlets.

“Stick to the flanks!” Logan barked. “Don’t get caught head-on!”

The Alpha lunged, slamming her bulk into Logan’s side. He rolled with the hit, grunting from the impact but keeping his footing. Andy didn’t waste the opening. He ran along her flank and swiped low, the steel digging into the tough hide. Not deep, but enough to leave a mark.

She snarled and spun, trying to catch him with her front paw. Andy ducked under the blow, narrowly avoiding getting flattened.

“She’s fast!” he hollered.

“ And angry!” Logan shouted, deflecting a claw swipe with his offhand blade before countering with a jab to her side.

The Alpha roared and stomped hard, shaking the ground beneath them. A burst of dust and grit flew up, obscuring the air. Andy shielded his face and dove out of the way, using the confusion to slip behind her again.

Andy dropped low and slashed just above the ankle joint. The moonstone connected, causing the beast to stumble—but she recovered quickly, whirling and knocking Andy into a boulder with a yelp.

“Andy!” Logan shouted, charging in again.

But Andy was already pushing himself up, spitting sand from his mouth. “I’m alright!”

They regrouped on opposite sides of her, panting, circling.

“She’s gettin’ tired,” Logan said.

“Good. ‘Cause I’m just gettin’ warmed up.”

They moved in sync—Logan from the front, Andy from behind. As Logan locked her into a flurry of feints, Andy saw his chance. He sprinted, leapt, and drove both Swipers into her side, using all the force he had. With a rattling screech, the Alpha collapsed in the dirt, her growls fading into a low rumble before she went still.

Andy pulled his blades free and dropped to his knees, breath ragged.

Logan approached, equally exhausted but grinning wide. “That’ll do, partner. That’ll do.”

While they were busy dealing with the Alpha, her mate had scurried off to gather the rest of the pack.

It didn’t take long. The remaining Rockyenarolls crept back toward the den, their chuckling laughter replaced with a somber quiet. They approached cautiously, their gazes darting between Logan, Andy, and the fallen Alpha.

Her mate stepped forward, nose low to the ground. He let out a soft, mournful whine—a clear sign of submission. A call of surrender.

He turned away, and with a few low grunts, the others followed him. One by one, they disappeared over the rise of the Grand Mesa, leaving the area behind without looking back.

Andy stood there, still catching his breath, watching them go.

“Well,” Logan said, sheathing his blades. “Reckon we won’t be seein’ ‘em ‘round these tracks no more.”

The clear night sky cast over the boys as they rode their way home. The night air was a bit chillier than normal, which meant summer was coming to an end soon.

Soon Andy would be reunited with Jasmine, and somehow it all felt different. He’d changed, but maybe she had too. Was it too much to hope she still felt that same spark from the day she left?

He raised his hand to his cheek, remembering the scorching kiss she’d planted before heading off to Atara. He hoped it was enough. Enough for her to come back home, and for them to start a life together, good and proper.

“Thinkin’ ‘bout someone?” Logan asked.

“Maybe,” Andy replied.

Logan nudged Rambo into a trot, pulling ahead and cutting Andy and Waylon off, bringing them to a stop.

“Reckon we oughta have a talk, you and me,” Logan started, clearing his throat. “‘Bout them Rockyenarolls... and the ‘thing’ they were doin’.”

Andy let out a hearty laugh. “Logan, don’t bother.”

“I just mean, I understand… the urges you might be feelin’ when it comes to—”

“Logan, seriously. Stop. I knew what they were doing the whole time.”

“You did?”

“‘Course I did! I saw a lot growin’ up on the trail with y’all. Grace and Haru answered plenty of my questions. Figured I’d save you the embarrassment of tryin’ to talk to me ‘bout it.”

“You smug little—”

“Smell ya later, Pa!” Andy hollered, kicking Waylon into gear and tearing off at full speed toward the homestead.

Logan watched his son ride off into the night and let out a long sigh of relief. 

"Well," he muttered to himself, "at least the boy ain’t walkin’ ‘round completely clueless."

Chapter Text

Chapter 11 - I Wanna Know What Love Is

             Jasmine- 

                      Trudy told me you’re coming home soon. I’ll be honest—it’s been kind of weird not having you around Sandrock.

                     Too bad you won’t be back in time for my parents’ anniversary celebration (trust me, it wasn’t their idea). Owen and a few others thought it might be nice to put something together for them after everything that’s happened around here lately.

                     Finish strong. I can’t wait to hear all your big ideas for Sandrock when you get back.

                                                                                                                                                                     -Andy

Andy was lounging beneath his favorite shade tree, with Waylon grazing nearby. He’d just finished writing a letter to send to Jasmine. She’d be home within the next week or so, and he could barely contain his excitement to see her again. It felt like so long since he’d last laid eyes on her—and in that time, he’d been through a lot.

From yakmel to thorny jumpers to tripions… Andy felt like a different person now. He’d grown. Something had shifted in his mind. He’d matured, learned, fought. He could face her now. Maybe even tell her how he really felt. He just needed to find the right words.

Logan approached, lost in his own thoughts. He eased down next to Andy with a familiar sigh, the kind that said, “been thinkin’ too much again.”

“I need to enlist your help gettin’ a gift for yer Ma,” Logan said, scratching his head. “I’ve run plum outta ideas.”

“Yer tellin’ me assault rifles and those yakboy mirrors just ain’t cuttin’ it this year?” Andy teased.

“Whatever,” Logan huffed. “At least I got someone to buy for. Yer still pussyfootin’ around tellin’ Jas how ya feel.”

“Yeah, yeah—whatever. Sure, I’ll help ya.”

Logan sat for a moment, staring back at the homestead. “I just don’t know what to get someone who can build anything she wants. It’s amazin’, the way she does it, but it makes things tough on me, ya know?”

Andy nodded. “Hmmph. Reckon we go mosey ‘round town. Somethin’ might catch your eye… or maybe you’ll see somethin’ that reminds you of her.”

“We could try that,” Logan agreed.

He was the first to stand, then offered a hand to Andy. Andy took it and pulled himself up, facing his Pa.

“Whatever we get stays between us, ya hear?” Logan said.

“On my honor, Logan,” Andy swore.

Logan and Andy walked through town, scouring every corner for the perfect gift for The Builder. Logan had already made up his mind that they weren’t going to find anything worthwhile, but Andy kept nudging him forward with encouragement.

For someone as tough as Logan, it was strange seeing him so flustered over buying a present. Andy had expected him to be smoother, to have this in the bag. But after their last conversation, it was clear Logan thought of himself as hopeless in this department.

They stopped by Owen’s first, figuring it was worth a look.

But when they stepped inside, it wasn’t Owen behind the register—it was Larry. The towering, purple-scaled lizard-like man stood ready to greet them. His sharp features and cold stare were enough to make someone uneasy, if they didn’t already know he worked here.

“Greetings, yakboy human and yakboy offspring. Can I whip something up for you?” Larry asked with his usual unsettling cheer.

“Sorry, Larry. Ain’t got time today—we’re lookin’ for an anniversary gift,” Logan replied.

“Strong human and yakboy human have been bonded another year? Congratulations! Time for another clutch, then?”

Andy immediately shoved his fingers into his ears and turned away. “Nope. Not here for this conversation.”

“What? No, Larry! I need to get her a gift—not another baby.”

“Shame,” Larry said, clearly disappointed. “Only have food and drinks here today. Sorry, humans. Best of luck in your search.”

He truly seemed let down. He wanted there to be more offspring in town.

Logan and Andy left the saloon just as quickly as they’d arrived. After that interaction, it was clear this shopping trip wasn’t going to get any easier.

Logan and Andy’s next stop was Vivi's. Surely they could find something for The Builder there, right? She was the greatest seamstress in town. Maybe Ma would fancy a new dress or a sturdy pair of combat boots?

Andy watched as Logan wandered around, clearly tense. Still caught up in his nerves from striking out earlier. Was this what love did to someone? Turned you into a nervous wreck with something to lose?

“Reckon she’d want a new outfit?” Logan asked, glancing at a mannequin in a patterned sundress.

“Ma ain’t exactly the goin’-out-in-high-society kind of woman,” Andy replied.

Logan deflated a bit. This was hopeless. He just wanted to show his wife how much she meant to him. How much he loved her above all else. That she was the most important person in his life.

She’d seen him in his “bandit” phase and still fell in love with him. She stood by him when everyone else thought he was crazy for uncovering the Duvos plot.

She was his love. His everything. And some small trinket was never going to say all the things he wanted to say.

“Logan,” Andy said, cutting through the silence. “Can I ask you somethin’?

“Shoot,” Logan replied, still thumbing through the rack, pulling hangers one by one, looking for something that spoke to him.

Andy hesitated. He and Logan had been having more heart-to-hearts lately, and this one felt no different—but deeper. Somewhere inside, he knew that asking the question would make everything more real. Like saying it out loud meant he had to do something about it.

“How’d you know you were fallin’ for Ma?”

Logan paused, looking up from the rack of clothes. His eyes flickered, lost in thought.

There wasn’t an easy answer. It hadn’t hit him all at once. It was a slow burn, drawn out over time. They’d been through a lot together.

She saw him during the bandit days—train heists, accusations of blowing up the water tower. Hell, she even tracked him down to his hideout and bested every obstacle just to duel him.

And that was a sight.

The two of them, slashing and crashing into one another like a pair of stormfronts. Grace had to break it up before it went on all night. Between the desert heat, dry air, and the sweat, it was a memory not easily forgotten.

She even visited him during those five days he was locked up for his “crimes against the town.” Lightest punishment they could’ve handed out, really. But she came by every single day. After her first visit, he started looking forward to it. Maybe that’s when he started falling.

But the moment he knew ?

That came during the tunnel worm incident. He’d taken an arrow to the chest for her, and she’d carried him across the Eufaula. Stayed at his side, made sure he got his meds. That stunt he pulled… well, he’d been planning that one for a while.

A light chuckle escaped his lips, “Hmm… well we’d seen a lot together. And I just remember thinkin’ I didn’t want anyone else by my side. She’d proven herself a solid partner, and someone who I didn’t want to go through life without.”

Andy listened intently, waiting for Logan to continue. 

“’Member when I got poisoned by that arrow? I was gonna have you help me take care of that wound, but then I figured I could solidify our romance with one swift kiss,” Logan paused, drifting into the memory. “She was fixin’ my bandages, and I pulled her close and kissed her. Kinda reckless, I know. But hey, it worked out.”

Andy had never heard the full story of how Logan and The Builder got together before. Hearing Logan’s side of it? Totally… well, totally Logan .

It surprised him though. For someone raised in Sandrock, so rooted in the traditions of monster hunting, Logan had never given Ma a heart knot.

“Have you ever considered givin’ her a heart knot?” Andy asked. “Sounds like how ya’ll got together was as wild as the town itself. But maybe a little tradition might be nice—since we’re all settled now.”

Logan’s eyes widened. Andy’s idea hit him like a bolt of lightning.

“Andy! Yer a genius, son. Let’s go grab one!” he hollered, taking off in a full sprint toward By the Stairs .

Andy and Logan returned home to find The Builder hard at work at her forge station. The sharp clang of metal on metal rang through the yard until she caught a glimpse of them—at which point she promptly quenched the weapon she’d been working on.

Logan casually put his arms behind his back, concealing the gift he’d picked up for her.

Andy glanced between his parents, noting how neither of them seemed to know what to say. The silence stretched on a bit too long, and Andy raised an eyebrow at Logan, silently urging him to break it.

“Uh…Imma head inside, take a nap. Andy and I were out… scoutin’ for, um, stuff,” Logan muttered. “Talk to you later, hon’.”

He made a beeline for the house, clutching the gift behind him.

“Have a nice nap, dear!” The Builder called back.

Once Logan disappeared, she waved Andy over to the forge.

She was drenched in sweat from the heat—but there was something else in her expression, something weighing on her. Andy could see it clearly now. This wasn’t just post-forge exhaustion. She had something on her mind.

“Andy, I can’t think of what to make your Pa,” she groaned. “I tried tailoring him new pants, but he already has so many! I swear that man only rotates between his two favorite pairs. I even started forging a new weapon, but—Peach help me—how many more blades can I make? He’s got one in every metal and gem!”

Andy smirked. “Reckon you wanna head into town, see if we can find somethin’?”

“Would you, honey? I’d appreciate any help I can get.”

“Sure, Ma,” he said, gesturing toward the gate.

But just as they started walking, The Builder stopped him with a hand on his arm. “This stays between us, okay?”

“‘Course, Ma. My lips are sealed.”

Just like his trip with Logan earlier, Andy and the Builder stopped at the Blue Moon Saloon .

Andy had hoped Larry had finished his shift by the time they walked in the door. But to his surprise, the geegler was still standing at the till, waiting patiently for the next guests to arrive.

“Ah, yakboy offspring! You return with strong human. What can I help with now?”

The Builder turned back toward Andy, who quickly tried to deflect Larry’s comment. “I wasn't here earlier, partner. Think you got me and my brother mixed up again,” he said smoothly.

As the Builder turned away, Andy flashed Larry a quick cut it out gesture. He didn’t want his earlier activities rehashed in front of his Ma.

Larry grinned, catching on immediately. “Oh, silly me. You’re right. You and your brother look exactly the same. Anyway, fancy something to eat or drink?”

The Builder picked up the To-Go Menu but also browsed the wares on sale.

“Got anything Logan would like? It’s our anniversary soon,” she asked.

“Oh! Well, congrats, strong human. Very happy for you and yakboy human. Perhaps you could talk him into another clutch?”

The Builder laughed. “Probably not, Larry. Logan has a hard enough time handling the three we have.”

Andy rolled his eyes. Larry was like an uncle to all the young’uns in town—a tall, purple, scaled uncle, but an uncle nonetheless. Seemed like he was on a mission to hound everyone in Sandrock into having more kids.

“Hmmph. Maybe we’ll find something at Hugo’s,” the Builder sighed, accepting that the first stop was a bust.

“Sure, Ma,” Andy said, patting her shoulder. “Thanks, Larry.”

The Builder picked up and inspected all the weapons Hugo had for sale. She sighed heavily, this was not how she saw her day going.

How was she supposed to remind Logan how much he meant to her? His tenacity and determination knew no bounds. It was something she always found inspiring. The way he could carve a path through any situation, no matter how bad it looked—that was why she fell for him in the first place.

Andy watched her carefully. She was lost in thought, just like Logan had been earlier that morning. And with that, he decided to ask her the same question.

“Ma?” He paused. “How did you know you were fallin’ for Logan?”

She marinated on the question for a moment. Did she dare tell him it was love at first sight?

The day Logan came barreling down the tracks, passing her workshop, that was the day she fell in love with the yakboy.

His white hair was blowing in the breeze, and he brought his hat up to cover it. She watched him with intent, and he noticed. He turned to her, staring her down. Her heart jumped in her chest, and it was hard to breathe. It was a feeling she’d never experienced before.

What solidified her feelings, you ask? Well, it was when he took an arrow for her in the tunnel worm cave. He’d asked her for help tracking down some bandits who were using his name. She questioned him at first, but then remembered what he said:

“Oh bug off with that humbleness. We both know yer the toughest in town,” he’d said, giving her a wink.

She’d willfully agreed to his quest, and they set off the next day.

It was when she stepped onto a pressure plate that triggered an arrow—Logan threw himself into the path of it, pushing her out of the way. He passed out after the battle, and she’d lugged him home, where she stayed and watched over him through the night.

When she came back the next day to help patch him up (per his request, mind you), he pounced on her while she was changing his bandages. The kiss was hot, slow, and filled with a kind of passion that not even the best romance novels could hold a candle to.

And the rest, well… that was history.

The Builder rolled her eyes. “You’re gonna laugh at me.”

“Nonsense, Ma. I’m tryin’ to decipher my feelings for Jas. And watchin’ you and Logan… I wanna know if there’s some secret to it.”

“Secret, huh? Well, let me tell you this—I guess I was always a little starstruck by your Pa,” she sighed, her voice softening at the memory. “He was ridin’ away from the water tower explosion. Galloping down the tracks, fast and fierce, when Rambo reared into the sky. We caught each other’s eyes, and… it felt electric. I’d never felt anything like it before. Nothin’ lit a fire in me like that day. Guess you could call it love at first sight.”

Andy smirked. “Starstruck, huh? It all just clicked for you. Why didn’t you make the first move then? Logan told me he basically ambushed you with a kiss when he was injured.”

“I’m a patient woman, Andy. I figured it’d all work itself out in time,” his Ma replied, picking up a spear and giving it a lazy practice toss.

“Wouldn’t it have been easier to just give him a heart knot? Then you wouldn’t’ve had to wait around for him to kiss ya.”

“Hmmph, I suppose I could’ve done that. It is a Sandrock tradition. And your Pa knows it real well,” she said, tapping a finger to her chin. Then her eyes lit up. “Andy! That’s a great idea! I’ll go get one for Logan!”

Before he could respond, The Builder hugged him quick and took off toward By The Stairs .

Andy just stood there and shrugged. He’d had enough shopping for one day.

Andy watched as his Ma and Pa slipped away from the crowd at the Saloon. It was careful and calculated—timed just right so no one would notice. He smirked. Maybe he really was starting to understand what falling in love was all about.

It wasn’t always about the perfect moment or the perfect words. Sometimes, it hit you like a freight train barreling into your heart. Other times, it was slower. Like a coaster climbing its way up a hill, steady and patient, until suddenly you were falling before you even realized you’d reached the top.

His parents were the perfect example of both kinds of love. And for the first time, Andy felt ready—really ready—to tell Jasmine how he felt.

He just had to be patient a little while longer. She was due home any day now.

Logan grabbed his wife’s hand and pulled her through the back doors of the Saloon. When the moment was right and no one was looking, he drew her in and pressed a kiss to her lips. Then, with a grin, he scooped her into his arms and carried her down the tunnel, heading back to their porch.

Once they arrived, he gently set her down on the swing and took the seat beside her.

“I, uh… wanted to do this privately,” he confessed, digging into his pocket. “Got you a gift, darlin’.”

“Me too,” she replied with a soft smile. “Let’s reveal them together. On three, okay?”

“One… two… three.”

They pulled out their gifts at the same time—two heart knots, held up in unison.

They stared at each other's offerings for a beat, surprised at first, then laughed together.

“Did Andy help you with yers too?” Logan asked.

The Builder nodded, eyes still twinkling. They reached out and traded knots, their hands brushing.

“You know,” she said, admiring the one he’d chosen, “we’ve never really been ones to follow tradition. And I think that’s served us well. But it’s nice… knowing we’ve always felt the same.”

Logan reached for her hand and held it tight. “Darlin’, I meant it when I said I wanna spend the rest of my days with you. This life we’ve built? It means everything to me.”

She leaned into his chest, placing her hand over his heart.

“Happy anniversary, Logan.”

“Happy anniversary, love.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 12 - A Sandrock Welcome Home

“You look nice, baby,” The Builder said, dusting off Andy’s shirt.

“Thanks, Ma.”

Andy and his Ma stood together in front of the mirror. He tipped his hat down snug over his head and gave himself a once-over.

He’d gone with a tan shirt and dark-washed jeans, layered with his leather gauntlets and vest. Draped over his shoulders was his red cape, tied neatly at the collar. It was the same one he always wore on hunts, and it made him feel like himself.

“So handsome,” she teased. “Jasmine’s not gonna know what to think.”

“Ma, c’mon. Yer embarrassing me,” Andy muttered, shifting awkwardly.

The Builder just rolled her eyes and stepped back toward the doorway.

“Good luck,” she said warmly, pulling the door shut behind her with a soft click.

Andy looked back at himself in the mirror, studying every inch. Man, how he’d changed. The boyish softness was gone, replaced by the sharper edges of someone who’d seen life, danger… and more than his fair share of close calls.

He ran a hand along his jaw, feeling the faint scruff coming in. Not enough to shave yet, but enough to make him look older.

“Jas— I reckon I really feel like there’s…” he started, but cut himself off with a grimace. “Naw, that’s stupid.”

Andy rolled his shoulders and tried again.

“Listen, Jas. I’ve been working hard on myself, and… I reckon I want us to try being more than friends,” he practiced aloud, then sighed deeply.

Dammit, why was this so hard? He literally helped get Logan and Ma together. Where was that ol’ Casanova confidence now?

Before he could dwell on it, the sound of a train horn echoed through the cracked window.

Guess he’d just have to figure it out at the station.

Andy grabbed his lasso and rushed out of his room. This was a mission for today, and he wasn’t about to be late.

As he sprinted toward the front door, he nearly bowled over his younger brother in the process.

“Hey! Where you goin’?” the boy hollered.

“Nunya. Now outta my way,” Andy shot back, nudging him aside.

“Where’s he goin’?” the boy asked again, glancing toward the living room.

“Jas comes home today. He’s meetin’ her at the station,” Logan replied casually, not even looking up from his sharpening stone.

“Hmm... you don’t say,” the younger brother muttered, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

Once Andy stepped outside, he moseyed over to his Ma’s garden. She’d been growing the most beautiful mountain roses in all of Sandrock, and Andy figured they’d make a fine gesture at the station.

He carefully picked a few of the biggest blooms, tucking them away when he felt a nudge against his backside. He didn’t even need to look — only one goat had that kind of nerve.

“I ain’t lettin’ you eat any of these,” Andy warned, glancing back at Waylon. “You’ll get a bellyache, and I sure as heck ain’t babysittin’ ya, boy.”

Waylon scrunched his nose, unimpressed, and let out a loud, sassy snort.

“Yeah, yeah. Tell me about it later,” Andy said with a grin, picking the last bud and hopping into the saddle.

But Waylon didn’t move when nudged. He stood stiff, eyes fixed on the train rolling towards the station in the distance.

Andy leaned forward, eyeing his partner curiously. “What’s got into you?” he asked.

Waylon let out a deep sigh, clearly uneasy, his eyes flicking from the train to Andy.

Andy softened, patting his neck reassuringly. “Buddy, ain’t nothin’ gonna break what we got. You’ll love Jas. She’s sweet, and if you’re polite, I bet she’ll even toss you a rutabaga or two.”

Waylon gave a small huff... but the mention of rutabagas did the trick. He nodded once, then started into a steady trot toward the platform.

The ride felt bumpier than usual, or maybe that was just the thudding in Andy’s chest.

Nervousness and excitement twisted inside him as they drew closer to the station. He could hardly sit still.

He hadn’t felt this uneasy in a long time. Hunting? That was simple. Out there, he knew exactly what needed to be done. But this... this was different.

It felt like hope.

Hope that Jasmine would step off that train and still see him the same. Hope that she’d run into his arms like something out of a romance tale. He even thought about how Logan had picked up and spun The Builder when he proposed. Maybe he could do something like that too.

But then came the doubts.

What if it was awkward? What if she’d changed? Worse yet, what if she thought he was too different now?

Waylon came to an abrupt halt, stomping his hooves and shaking Andy from his thoughts.

“Yeah, yeah... I know. Ride’s over, ain’t it?” Andy said, patting Waylon’s neck.

The goat turned his head, giving him what almost looked like a knowing smile. Maybe he was happy for Andy. Or maybe he was just thinking about those rutabagas. Either way, Andy couldn’t help but smile back.

Andy retrieved the flowers and climbed the stairs to the platform, each step feeling heavier than the last.

This was it. The moment he’d been waiting for.

The brakes squealed as the train pulled in, steam billowing through the air with a sharp whistle. As it hissed to a stop, Andy’s heart jumped right up into his throat.

When the doors finally opened and the steam cleared, he spotted her.

Jasmine stepped down onto the platform, graceful as ever. Her soft ginger-colored hair was longer now, brushing past her shoulders. She wore a light blue pantsuit — a little too fancy for dusty Sandrock, but Andy didn’t mind one bit.

Her eyes went wide the moment they landed on him.

Andy smiled, lifting the roses, but Jasmine didn’t seem to notice. Before he could get a word out, she launched herself at him, crashing right into his chest.

Caught off guard but quick to react, Andy wrapped his arms tight around her, spinning her in a wide circle. She felt light as air, or maybe that was just him. Maybe all the hunting and growing up these past few weeks had made him stronger.

By the third spin, he slowed and gently set her back down, the roses now tucked between them.

“These are for you,” he said softly, grinning as he offered them.

“Oh, Andy, they’re beautiful!” Jasmine beamed, accepting the flowers with grace and leaning in to give them a whiff.

A silence settled between them, but it wasn’t awkward — far from it. They just stood there for a beat, taking each other in.

Jasmine looked a little different. Still the same Jas, but more polished somehow. There was a certain air about her now, a bit more poised, more professional. Andy didn’t mind. He figured the ol’ Jas would be back soon enough. Her outspokenness played better in Sandrock than it did in Atara.

Andy, despite his own maturing, still wore that familiar ornery look. The same easygoing face Jasmine had grown so used to. Seeing him felt like coming home, like slipping back into a favorite pair of boots.

“You look good,” she said first, breaking the silence.

“You do too,” Andy replied, clearing his throat and shifting on his feet. “I was thinkin’ maybe we could grab somethin’ to eat. You know… talk some things over. Whatcha say?” His hand rubbed the back of his neck, nerves creeping in.

Jasmine smiled warmly. “I’d love that. I’ve been dying to try that new dish Uncle Owen cooked up.”

“Oh yeah, I got a story about that one.”

Her eyes lit up with curiosity. “Oh really? Perfect. That’ll make a great first interview now that I’m back. Gotta get something fresh for the local paper.”

Andy chuckled and gathered her bags, walking with her down the stairs.

Waylon was parked right where Andy had left him.

“And who’s this handsome fella?” Jasmine asked, scratching Waylon’s cheek.

Waylon, ever confident, gave his head a proud shake and then shot Andy a look.

“My graduation gift. Waylon, this is Jas. Jas, this is Waylon,” Andy introduced, watching as the two sized each other up like old friends meeting for the first time.

After the introductions, Andy mounted up and offered his hand to Jasmine.

She took it, climbing up and settling in behind him. 

“Waylon needs a seat belt or something,” she teased. “Guess I’ll just have to snuggle up against you.”

Jasmine wrapped her arms snugly around Andy’s waist. The sudden closeness made him flustered, his cheeks heating up in an instant.

“Uhh… yeah, sure, I mean... yeah...” he stammered, trying (and failing) to sound cool.

Before he could recover, something else stole his attention. From across town, a familiar and frantic voice shattered the quiet:

“MAAABBBEEEELLLLL! SOMEBODY DONE LEFT THE GATE OPEN! BROWN JACK’S ON THE LOOSE AGAIN!”

Andy and Jasmine both turned toward the Wandering Y just in time to see Cooper scrambling out of his house, looking like his britches were on fire.

Andy’s brother crept onto Cooper’s property, sticking close to the wall of the barn that held the key to the first phase of his plan.

Brown Jack.

He slipped in through the window and landed quietly in the yakmel’s pen. 

Brown Jack turned, snorting softly, curious about what the boy was up to.

“Wanna stretch your legs, bud?” he whispered, unlatching the pen and swinging the gate wide open.

The big yakmel hesitated for only a second, then trotted out with purpose, tearing through the front gate and bolting straight toward town.

Andy’s brother grinned as he ducked back out the window. 

“Phase one is a go,” he muttered, slipping off before anyone could catch him.

“Looks like we got ourselves a runaway yakmel,” Andy said, adjusting his grip on the saddle bar. He shot Jasmine an apologetic look over his shoulder. “Will ya take a raincheck?”

“No way!” Jasmine grinned, already flipping open her notepad. “This is front page material. Now ride, yakboy. I need a story!”

Andy couldn’t help but laugh as he tapped the bar twice, signaling Waylon. “Yes, ma’am.”

Waylon took off like a shot, hooves churning up dust as they tore down the street. Jasmine tightened her hold around Andy’s waist, her laughter blending with the rush of desert wind.

“Dateline: Sandrock!” she declared dramatically, scribbling as they sped along. “Local yakboy and his trusty goat chase chaos through town, rescuing a damsel in distress from a rampaging yakmel.”

Andy snorted. “You don’t sound too distressed, darlin’.”

Jasmine didn’t answer right away, but Andy caught the sly smile tugging at her lips as she leaned in, her voice teasing and low. “Gotta sell papers somehow,” she quipped, nudging her chin against his shoulder.

Andy’s face went redder than the canyon walls, but the grin that broke across his face said he wouldn’t trade this for anything.

Andy shook off the heat in his cheeks, forcing himself to focus. Embarrassment could wait—he had a job to do.

He needed to rope Brown Jack and get him back to the Wandering Y, plain and simple.

As they entered town, just passing by the Blue Moon, Andy’s eyes scanned the area. Tracks. Signs. Anything that pointed him in the right direction.

Jasmine, ever the reporter, chimed in with a playful narration as she scribbled notes.

“The newly inducted member of the Sandrock Monster Hunting Guild scoured high and low for signs of the rogue yakmel. Though the beast was reckless and wild, this hunter knew he’d need sharp eyes and a steady hand if there was any hope of returning it to its rightful pasture.”

Andy shot her a sideways glance. “You makin’ me sound like a hero, Jas.”

“Just building the legend,” Jasmine replied, grinning as she kept her eyes peeled.

They didn’t have to search much longer. Brown Jack was right up ahead, happily munching on some of Grandma Vivi’s imported fabric like he didn’t have a single regret in the world.

Andy narrowed his eyes. “Ah ha! Gotcha now.”

With practiced ease, he tossed the rope and looped it clean around the yakmel’s horns. He gave it a firm tug, steadying Waylon as he did.

Brown Jack glanced up, rope tight around his head. If the yakmel was embarrassed or upset, he sure didn’t show it. He gave Andy a slow blink, let out a casual snort, and trotted right along as if this had been the plan all along.

“Well, that was easy,” Jasmine said with a laugh, scribbling notes as they turned back toward the pasture.

“Don’t give him too much credit,” Andy replied. “He’s probably ready for a rest now. I imagine fabric doesn’t get digested easily."

The yakmel kept in tow with Waylon, as they headed back towards the pasture.

Jasmine and Andy were enjoying their chicken and waffles, the warm atmosphere of the Blue Moon wrapping around them like an old familiar blanket.

They sat close, sharing glances between bites, swapping stories about everything they’d missed in each other's lives.

Jasmine’s internship had gone well — so well, in fact, they’d offered her a full-time position as lead junior writer. Andy raised his brows, impressed, but she waved it off casually.

“Cynthia nearly turned three shades of green when they offered it to me,” Jasmine admitted with a sly smile. “But… I politely declined. So they gave it to her instead. Suits her more, honestly.”

Andy chuckled, shaking his head. He caught her up on life back home — runaway yakmel, Rocket Roosters, Boxing Jacks, and even the mess with the Tripions.

Jasmine listened intently, eyes wide with amusement and curiosity. “Sounds like you’ve been busy. Hopefully, you’ll still make time for me in between wrangling desert nightmares,” she teased.

“‘Course, Jas. Always,” Andy promised, fidgeting slightly. He hesitated, clearing his throat. “Actually... there was somethin’ I wanted to talk to you about.”

Jasmine tilted her head, smiling softly. “Shoot, yakboy.”

Andy took a breath, trying to push through the nerves. “Well... that day you left. You kissed me on the cheek and, uh, I wanted to know—”

Before he could get the words out, Grace burst from the kitchen, flustered and waving a towel.

“Andy! Oh, thank Peach, you’re here,” she panted. “I don’t know how, but Banjo got into the kitchen. He’s knocking things over and we can’t get him out. Can you help? We really can’t have him contaminating everything.”

Andy sighed, frustration simmering as yet another interruption stole the moment from him. Was there ever going to be a peaceful time for him and Jas today?

He glanced at Jasmine — only to find her already scribbling in her notepad again.

Yakmel wrangling and now pest control. Is there anything our young hunter can’t face?

Jasmine glanced up from her notepad, catching the frustration plain on Andy’s face.

“Hey,” she said softly, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. “Go do your thing. I’ll wait for you.”

Andy felt the tension ease from his shoulders, a grin tugging at his lips as he let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“Give me five minutes,” he said, standing and securing his hat with a playful smirk, “and I’m all yours.”

“I’ll hold you to that, yakboy,” she teased once more, her voice carrying a hint of flirtation.

Andy bit his lip, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks as he turned toward the kitchen. The sooner he wrangled Banjo, the sooner he could get back to that table — and the cute little ginger waiting for him there.

“Pssst, pssst. Banjo, get in there!” Andy’s brother whispered, crouching low as he coaxed the stray cat toward the back door of the Blue Moon.

Banjo strolled over lazily, giving the boy a curious tilt of his head, clearly wondering what this was all about.

“Smell that? Grace is cookin’ up fresh carp today,” the boy tempted, grinning slyly. “And it’s all yours, partner... if you just mosey on in there and help yourself.”

“Meow?” Banjo replied skeptically, his head canting to the side.

“Oh, don’t give me that,” Andy’s brother huffed. “We all know you ain’t above causin’ a little chaos. I’m even holdin’ the door for ya…  it’s a gimme.”

Banjo paused, clearly weighing his options... but in the end, the promise of a free meal won out. Being Sandrock’s cutest freeloader was hard work, after all.

“Meow!” he agreed, trotting right past the boy and slipping through the cracked door into the kitchen like he owned the place.

“Phase two, complete,” Andy’s brother whispered, rubbing his hands together with a mischievous grin. “Almost there now…”

When Andy entered the kitchen, you’d have thought a food bomb had gone off.

Sauces and sides splattered across the counters, the walls, even the ceiling, like someone had started an art project halfway through dinner rush.

“What in Peach’s name happened here?” Andy muttered, eyes sweeping the mess as he searched for the culprit.

His gaze landed on Banjo, perched proudly on the counter, licking the last of the fish dish from his lips.

“Meow?” Banjo offered innocently, tilting his head.

Andy gave him a deadpan look. “Banjo, buddy. You can’t be in here.”

Banjo flashed his big, wide eyes — pulling every ounce of cute he had to try and win Andy over.

“No buts,” Andy said firmly, crossing his arms. “C’mon out, partner.”

Banjo’s eyes narrowed in offense. He gave Andy a downright nasty glare, stomped his little paw in defiance... and with one mighty leap, flung himself up to the top of the fridge, clearly not ready to go quietly.

The chase was on.

As Andy closed in on the fridge, Banjo sprang again—his hind paws catching on a bag of flour perched dangerously at the edge.

The bag tipped and fell, exploding on impact.

A cloud of white engulfed Andy, coating him from head to toe before the sack hit the floor with a thud .

Andy stood there, blinking through the dust. He blew a puff of flour from his mouth and wiped his eyes, deadpan.

“Oh, son of…” he muttered, cutting himself off as his jaw tightened. 

He pointed an accusatory finger at Banjo, who now sat smugly on top of the counter, tail flicking.

“It’s on now, Banjo. I tried bein’ nice. Now I’m just gonna knap yer ass,” Andy declared, launching back into pursuit.

Crashing, clanging, and muffled curses erupted from the kitchen, echoing all the way into the dining room.

Jasmine, still scribbling notes for her article, couldn’t help but laugh as Andy’s grumbling filtered through the walls.

“Can’t wait to write that part down,” she whispered, giggling to herself as another clang sounded from the back.

A few short moments later, Andy emerged from the kitchen, his face, hair, and clothes still dusted in flour. 

Banjo dangled from his scruffed hold, looking surprisingly smug for a troublemaker.

Andy pushed open the saloon doors and set the cat gently on the ground outside.

“Meow?” Banjo offered, tilting his head as if asking for forgiveness.

Andy sighed, his irritation already fading.

“Truce,” he relented, softening. “Just don’t go stirrin’ up trouble for a while, alright?”

“Meow!” Banjo agreed cheerfully before trotting off to find his favorite sunbathing spot.

Andy took a deep breath, dusted himself off half-heartedly, and headed back toward Jasmine.

The second she saw him, Jasmine burst into laughter so hard she had to clutch her sides.

“I’m sorry, Andy,” she gasped between giggles. “I know it’s not funny, but… there’s just so much flour on you!”

Andy let out a long-suffering sigh but couldn’t help cracking a smile. 

“Guess I’m a real catch tonight, huh?” he said dryly.

He tipped his head toward the door. “Wanna walk home? I’m gonna need a good wash after everything today.”

Jasmine wiped her eyes, still laughing softly. “Yeah, I’d like that. Just… don’t be offended if I don’t take your arm. You’ve kinda got flour, uh… everywhere .”

Andy chuckled as he led her to the door, pulling it open with a playful flourish.

“After you,” he said, falling into step right behind her as they disappeared into the cool night air.

"Now Coop, partner, c’mon now. Is this really worth causin’ a fuss over?" Owen asked, trying to calm the old rancher down.

“He let my dang yakmel loose, Owen. You can root through my garden, break my guitar, but no one and I mean no one touches Brown Jack. Poor boy’s gotta get nursed back to health after munchin’ on all kinds of junk today,” Cooper grumbled, knocking sharply on the front door of Logan and the Builder’s homestead.

“I’m just sayin', he’s a boy. Logan and Andy were both like that growin’ up. Can’t you cut him a little slack?” Owen reasoned, arms crossed as he tried to play mediator.

“Naw, friend. This is a generational thing now and I’m not lettin’ it slide no more,” Cooper shot back stubbornly.

Before Owen could offer more peacekeeping, the front door swung open. Logan and the Builder stood there, looking between the two men with curiosity.

“Howdy, boys. What’s goin' on? What can we do for ya?” Logan asked, surprised to see them both on his porch.

Owen opened his mouth to explain, but Cooper beat him to it, launching into a full-blown ramble about the day’s disasters and why he was sure it was their youngest behind all the mischief.

Andy and Jasmine walked up the stairs to her house. Trudy had left the light on outside, knowing she’d be dropped off close to dusk.

When they reached the front door, Andy and Jasmine stood quietly for a moment.

"You wanted to talk to me about something at the saloon?" she asked shyly.

"Uh, yeah," Andy stammered, his hand rubbing the back of his neck again. "You kissed me right before you left, and I was wonderin’ what it—"

Before he could finish, the sound of rustling bushes cut him off. Andy rolled his eyes and turned to check it out, but just as he came down the steps, his little brother popped out from the bushes.

"You almost had it!" his brother cheered, throwing his arms in the air.

"You? What are you doin' here? Ain’t ya supposed to be at home?" Andy asked, blinking in disbelief.

His brother shifted, looking guilty. "I just wanted to make sure Jasmine saw how grown up you are now. You like her a lot, and... I wanted to help make sure she felt the same." He looked down at his feet. "Guess I messed up, huh?"

Andy couldn’t help but smile. He glanced over at Jasmine, who was blushing deeply but also smiling warmly. She nodded, silently letting Andy know it was all okay.

Andy dropped down to one knee and patted his brother on the shoulder. "Nonsense, partner. You’re a good wingman. Matter of fact, I think I owe ya one after today."

His brother’s eyes lit up. "Really? That’s awesome!"

Just as Andy stood to head back up the steps, a loud shout echoed across the quiet evening.

"HOWLETT JUNIOR, YOU BETTER COME HOME RIGHT NOW!"

Both boys froze, instantly recognizing Logan’s unmistakable voice booming from the homestead.

"Guess that’s me," the boy muttered. He pointed toward home with a sheepish grin. "You’ll back me up when Ma and Pa ask about today, right?"

Andy chuckled, ruffling his brother’s hair. "Sure thing, bud. Now get on back home. I’ll be there in a bit."

His brother grinned and took off, leaving Andy alone again with Jasmine.

“So, as I was sayin’... you kissed me, and I’ve been wonderin’ what that meant. What I meant to ya, I guess,” Andy said, pulling his hat from his head as his eyes met hers.

Jasmine looked down, tilting her head thoughtfully. “Well… I guess it meant everything.”

“Everything?” Andy echoed, his brow lifting in surprise.

“Yeah,” she said softly, meeting his gaze again. “Seeing you at the station, even after we had our disagreement, meant a lot to me. And seeing you today just... reminded me how much I like you. I want us to be more than friends, Andy.”

Andy felt his face flush, warmth spreading through his chest. “I’d like that too, Jas. A whole lot.”

Jasmine smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. “Good. Now, I better get to bed before my Ma starts to worry.”

Andy grinned wide as she turned to go. He noticed a dusting of flour on her lips — probably from him, still left over from Banjo’s kitchen disaster.

“Hold on,” he said, gently catching her by the cheek. With a soft touch, he brushed the flour away with his thumb.

Then he couldn’t stop himself. He leaned in and kissed her properly, letting himself melt into the moment as Jasmine kissed him back without hesitation.

They stayed like that for what felt like forever, and not nearly long enough.

Suddenly, the porch light flicked on and off, breaking their trance. They parted quickly, though both were smiling now.

“Goodnight, Andy,” Jasmine said, cheeks flushed but eyes glowing.

“Night, Jas,” he replied, tipping his hat as he turned and made his way off the porch, a bounce in his step.

Chapter Text

Chapter 13 - Community Service

Andy came in through the door to find Logan, the Builder, and Junior sitting in the living room. Junior was sunk down low on the couch, head hanging, tears forming in his eyes. It looked like he was getting quite the talking-to.

“Honey, we know your heart was in the right place, but you can’t be letting yakmel run loose or inviting strays into folks’ kitchens,” Ma spoke gently.

“Junior, you could’ve seriously hurt somebody or made someone real sick today,” Logan added firmly, arms folded across his chest.

Their daughter peeked cautiously around the corner, watching every moment closely. She and her brother didn’t always see eye-to-eye, but it looked like Junior could sure use someone in his corner about now.

Suddenly, she darted in and threw her arms around Junior. “Don’t be mad! Please, Ma, Pa — can’t we just let it go this time?”

The Builder glanced toward Logan, giving him a softened look that said, Go easy on him . 

She then gently collected their daughter and quietly left the room.

Andy took that as his cue to step into the conversation.

“Listen, partner," Logan started again, his tone softened slightly. "You’re gonna have to make amends somehow. Cooper’s real upset about his yakmel escapin’, and Owen...well, he’s takin’ it better, but if ya make it right with one, might as well do the other too.”

“Community service ain’t all bad," Andy said. "Logan and I both had our turns at it.” He chuckled, “It’s practically a family tradition ‘round here.”

Logan shot Andy a puzzled look. “When did you do community service?”

Andy shrugged sheepishly. “Back when I impersonated that Bronco feller. Might’ve tossed a few marbles at the Civil Corps, and Miguel had me doin’ labor projects up at the church for a week.”

Logan shook his head,  and pushed the hair back from his face. “ ‘Course ya did.”

Andy plopped down beside his brother, bumping shoulders to show support. Junior sniffled a little, but his spirits perked right back up.

“Well, at least tell me my efforts weren’t in vain, Andy," Junior whispered, leaning in eagerly. "Did ya kiss Jas? And I mean a real one! Not one of those polite cheek pecks.”

Andy rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hide the smile spreading across his face. “Your efforts were fruitful, bud.”

“Heck yeah!” Junior whooped, jumping off the couch and dashing toward his room, tears completely forgotten.

Logan chuckled, watching him go. “Imma take him down to Owen’s first thing in the morning. Coop’s gonna get him in the afternoon.”

“Probably for the best,” Andy agreed, getting up and stretching. “Owen’ll take it easy on him, but Cooper…well, Coop’s another story.”

Andy headed toward the washroom when Logan cleared his throat, an amused smirk on his face. “So—ya kissed her, huh?”

Andy paused, turning just enough to shoot Logan a look over his shoulder. “Oh, shut up,” he shot back playfully, exiting the room as Logan’s laughter followed him down the hall.

“Logan, this really isn’t necessary,” Owen reassured gently. “We’ve all been a little rowdy at some point or another.”

“Nah, Owen. The boy’s gotta learn his lesson,” Logan said firmly. “Have him clear tables, sweep the floors. Heck, hand him a toothbrush and make him scrub the kitchen if ya gotta. Whatever ya think works.”

Owen sighed, realizing that convincing Logan otherwise was about as easy as getting a goat not to headbutt. Logan wasn't budging.

“Alright, alright. Tell you what, partner—how about you start by clearing off the tables over by the stage?” Owen suggested, nodding toward the mess of plates and glasses.

Junior nodded eagerly and headed straight for the far side of the saloon without another word.

“Good," Logan said, satisfied. "I’ll be back in a bit to collect him. Then we’re headin’ to Cooper’s.”

Owen’s eyes widened slightly. “He’s going to Coop’s, too? Poor guy.”

Logan smirked, already turning to leave. “Don’t do the crime if ya can’t do the time.”

Owen chuckled, shaking his head as Logan walked out the door. Turning his attention back to his temporary helper, he was surprised to see how quickly the boy was working. He and Logan hadn't even talked long, yet all the tables had already been cleared.

Junior came back toward him slowly, carefully balancing a tall stack of dishes and mugs, focus etched into his face.

“Want me to wash these up for ya, Uncle Owen?” Junior asked.

Owen stroked his salt-and-pepper beard thoughtfully, then cracked a warm smile. “Sure thing, partner. Head on back, and I’ll be there in a sec to show you how it’s done.”

“The chicken and waffles are amazin’!” Junior said enthusiastically, pointing to the nearly healed mark on his cheek. “See this scar right here? Got it fightin’ Rocket Roosters myself. You really oughta try it—if nothing else, just to honor my heroic battle.”

The couple at the table shared amused glances before handing back their menus. “Alright, buddy, you sold us. We’ll give it a try.”

Owen watched from a distance, grinning widely. The boy was a natural—not just at hard work, but as a salesman, too. Owen couldn’t recall selling this many specials in a single day. Now, he was genuinely thinking about hiring the boy part-time; the gol jar hadn’t looked this full in awhile.

“Two more specials, Uncle Owen!” Junior called cheerfully, tearing off another order slip and handing it over.

“Sure thing, Junior. But first, let me give you your cut for the day,” Owen said, digging into the tip jar and passing him a handful of gols.

Junior paused, looking unsure. “Pa probably wouldn’t like me takin’ this from ya. I’m supposed to be volunteering. I caused plenty of trouble, and I wanna make sure you got enough gols for the clean-up.”

Owen smiled warmly, patting the boy gently on the shoulder. “Don’t you worry, partner. We’re square. Just maybe don’t mention it to your Pa, alright?”

Junior quickly stuffed the gols into his pocket, just in time, as Logan strolled through the saloon doors.

“How’d he do?” Logan asked, glancing from Owen to Junior.

Owen chuckled, folding his arms proudly. “Good, real good. I think he’d make a mighty fine saloon owner one day. I also wouldn’t mind hiring him part-time, if you’d be alright with that.”

Logan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, a proud smile crossing his face as he nodded thoughtfully. “Really now? Well, reckon I’ll run it past his momma and get back to ya.” He nodded for Junior to follow him outside.

Junior hurried after his Pa, but not before turning back toward Owen, who gave him a wink and an encouraging thumbs-up.

Logan and Junior stepped onto the road, leaving the saloon behind and heading toward the Wandering Y.

“Hearin’ Owen talk ‘bout ya like that makes me real proud, ya know?” Logan said warmly, pulling his son in close to his side.

“I know I did somethin’ stupid, Pa,” Junior said quietly, dropping his gaze to the ground. “I just wanna make it right. I don’t want you and Momma thinkin’ any less of me.”

Logan stopped abruptly and knelt down to look his son right in the eyes, his expression softening.

“Howlett, don’t you ever think that. Yer momma and I care about you very much. We’d never think less of you. Growing up means makin’ mistakes and learnin’ to own ‘em. Acceptin’ responsibility’s part of becoming the good man I know yer gonna be.”

Junior finally lifted his eyes to meet his Pa’s gaze, a relieved smile crossing his face. “Thanks, Pa.”

Logan stood back up, brushing the dust from his pants. He placed a reassuring hand on Junior’s shoulder. “Alright, partner. Let’s get you over to Coop’s.”

When the pair arrived at the Wandering Y, they found Mabel sitting comfortably in her rocking chair, working on her knitting. Out in the barn, Cooper was busy shoveling muck, sweat glistening on his brow.

“Howdy, boys! To what do we owe the pleasure?” Mabel asked kindly, setting her knitting down on the table beside her.

“I’m droppin’ Junior off to help y’all out,” Logan said, giving his son a gentle nudge forward. “Figure it’s the least he can do to make up for yesterday’s mess.”

Junior looked to Mabel and gave a small, serious nod. He wasn’t gonna argue. He knew he had it coming.

“Oh, Logan, he doesn’t have to do all that,” Mabel said, already starting to rise. “Here, let me fix y’all a drink. Boys will be boys—we know how it is.”

But before she could get far, Cooper’s booming voice cut through the air as he stomped over from the barn.

“Hold it right there, Mabel,” Cooper barked, leaning on his shovel. “This boy needs to earn his forgiveness. We ain’t lettin’ these shenanigans slide no more.”

Mabel huffed but knew better than to argue with Cooper when he got that determined look in his eye.

“It’s settled, then. Work him good, Coop. I’ll be back to collect him later,” Logan said with a smirk, giving Junior a pat on the back before heading out.

Junior turned his gaze to Cooper, standing at attention like he was waiting for a general’s orders. He wasn’t about to risk angering Cooper any further.

“Shovels are in the barn,” Cooper barked once more, already making himself comfortable in Mabel’s rocker. “Get to scrappin’.”

With a determined nod, Junior headed into the barn, where the mountain of yakmel crap and a swarm of flies awaited him. It was gonna be a long afternoon.

Mabel crossed her arms, watching him go. “He’s just a boy, Coop,” she scolded lightly.

Cooper grunted, stretching his legs as he settled in. “I know. I was just like him once. Little hard work never killed no one, my sweet Mabel.”

Mabel sighed and headed inside, already thinking about what to cook for dinner.

Out on the porch, Cooper settled back into the rocker, resting his hands on his lap. The slow, steady creak of the chair eased him as he rocked, the motion soon lulling him right to sleep.

"Grandpa Coop?" Junior whispered, gently tapping the snoring old man on the shoulder. "Grandpa Coop, I’m done."

Cooper inhaled sharply, letting out one last snore before his eyes fluttered open. "Huh—already? Well, lemme go take a look."

Rising from his chair with a stretch and a yawn, Cooper led the way toward the barn, Junior right behind him.

As soon as Cooper stepped inside, he stopped dead in his tracks. For once, he was downright speechless. The place was spotless—so clean, in fact, that you could’ve nearly eaten off the dirt floor. Sure, it was still dirt, but it was clean dirt, and that counted for something.

"Well, I’ll be… that’s a mighty fine job there, son," Cooper said, nodding slowly, impressed. "Not sure what else I could rope ya into, but ya did real good with this."

"Thanks, Grandpa Coop," Junior replied. He kicked at the ground sheepishly. "I’m real sorry ‘bout yesterday. I never meant to cause no harm. I just wanted Andy to impress Jas."

Cooper’s eyes widened in surprise at the confession, and then softened as the pieces clicked together.

"It’s alright, boy. Just don’t go doin' it again, ya hear?" Cooper said, his voice gentler now. "Next time, just tell me what you’re schemin'. We coulda shown up at the station ourselves and played a little tune. Set the mood and everything for ‘em."

Junior cracked a grin, imagining the Coogo Band strumming away while Andy and Jas reunited. Andy would’ve lost his mind… or maybe even teared up.

"Boys! Y’all done yet?" Mabel hollered from the porch, waving to them. "Dinner’s ready!"

Cooper clapped Junior on the back with a hearty chuckle. "C’mon, partner. You earned it. And trust me—Mabel’s cookin’ ain’t somethin’ you wanna miss."

“What’s the deal with rutabaga anyway?” Cooper asked suddenly, leaning back in his chair trying to start up some more conversation.

“Oh, don’t start that again,” Elsie groaned, rolling her eyes.

She turned her attention to Junior, who sat across from her, happily digging into his food. A soft smile tugged at her lips. “You look just like him, ya know? Yer Pa, I mean. Even got that same stubborn look when you’re focusin' real hard on somethin’.”

Junior looked up at her and grinned. “Thanks, Aunt Elsie.”

He shoveled another helping of Mabel’s cooking into his mouth, savoring every bite. Cooper wasn’t lying—Mabel's cooking was really good. In fact, Junior thought that maybe causing a little trouble now and then wouldn’t be so bad if this was the reward.

Just as laughter and conversation filled the room, a sharp knock echoed from the front door. Mabel set down her napkin and rose to answer it.

Andy stood in the doorway, not Logan.

“Howdy, neighbors,” Andy greeted with a friendly tip of his hat. “Came to collect my brother. Ready to head home?”

Junior wiped his mouth and stood up, taking one last glance at his empty plate before heading for the door.

“Thank you,” he said politely to Mabel.

“Anytime, honey," Mabel replied. "Stop by more often. Coop could always use the help, and I’ll make sure you’re fed real good.”

Andy slung an arm around his brother’s shoulders and guided him outside. Together, they stepped into the soft glow of the orange and pink evening sky, leaving the warmth of the Wandering Y behind.

“Wanna go do some night fishin’?” Andy asked, a playful grin on his face.

Junior’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Please, Andy? I’ll grab my stuff real quick!”

“No need, partner," Andy chuckled. "I got Waylon packed and ready. Let’s head on out.”

Junior darted over to where Waylon was patiently waiting. Andy helped him up into the saddle, letting Junior sit right in front of him as he climbed up behind.

With a pull of the saddle bar, Waylon reared and took off, hooves pounding softly against the sand as they disappeared into the evening.

“Yer the best brother, Andy,” Junior said, leaning back against him as they rode.

Andy smiled, his voice full of fondness. “And yer my best wingman, bud.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 14 - Roller Coasters, Rats, and Running Naked

Andy stood at the stove that morning, cooking breakfast for his little sister. Steamed eggs, roasted tomatoes, and an ice-cold glass of yakmel milk made up the meal.

Once it was ready, he plated it up and joined her at the table. He hadn’t even taken his first bite when his sister pushed her plate toward him.

“Andy, Ma said you’re watching me today. What are we going to do?” she asked eagerly.

Andy took the dish and began cutting her food into smaller bites. “Don’t know yet. Got anythin’ in mind?”

Her eyes lit up, a grin spreading wide across her face. “Could we go to Catori World? Please, oh please… I really want to go.”

Andy chuckled. “What do you think Junior’ll say to that, huh?”

“He went with Ma and Pa to school. I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Andy paused, thinking it over. He hadn’t been to Catori World in some time. He could still picture the flashing lights, carnival music, and greasy food like it was yesterday.

Oh, to be a kid again.

Lately he’d been trying to act more mature, but deep down, part of him still wanted that thrill. Riding the roller coaster, taking a spin in the dune buggies… and knowing his sister, he figured he would probably settle for a lap or two on the carousel.

Leaning back in his chair, Andy scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Yeah, alright, sis. Finish your veggies and we’ll head out that way.”

“Tomatoes are a fruit, Andy,” she corrected proudly.

Andy smirked, watching his sister scarf down the rest of her meal. She bolted from the kitchen and, in just a few minutes, returned fully dressed and ready.

“Ready now, Andy! Let’s go already,” she chirped, grabbing his hand and trying to pull him up.

“Hold yer horses — I ain’t done eatin’ yet,” Andy replied, taking his sweet time with his fork.

“Not funny! Come on, come on, I want to go-go-go,” she pestered, bouncing in place.

Andy sighed, just about to retort when a knock came from the front door.

He wiped his mouth and headed over, his sister trailing right behind him.

When he reached the door, he gently pushed her behind him, cautious about who might be calling this early.

To his surprise, it was Jasmine standing on the other side.

“Howdy, yakboy,” she greeted cheerfully. “Do you have time for me today?”

Andy leaned casually against the doorway, trying to play it cool. Even though things between them were official now, Jasmine still managed to fluster him. It must have come with the territory of a new relationship.

“Gee, Jas, I’d love to, but—”

Before he could finish, his sister popped out from behind him.

“We’re going to Catori World!” she squealed. “You should come with us!”

Jasmine smiled warmly. “Well, hello to you too, Gem.”

Gem beamed back, then looked at Andy expectantly.

“Don’t reckon you’d wanna tag along with us, would ya?” he asked.

“Well,” Jasmine said with a grin, “seeing as I have nothing else planned today, if you guys have room for one more, I’d love to.”

“Awesome! Now let’s go already!” Gem cheered, pushing past Andy and Jasmine and barreling out the door.

“Ladies first,” Andy said dryly, gesturing after his sister. “Ya see she knows that rule real well.”

Jasmine let out a soft laugh and slipped her hand into Andy’s as they followed Gem, heading off together toward Catori World.

Andy settled in the cart next to Gem, and pulled the bar down to secure them in. 

“You sure, you don’t wanna go, Jas?” Andy asked. 

“Last time you and I went on this thing together, you nearly screamed my ears off,” She joked.

“You still have that picture, don’t you?”

“Of course, it’s one of my favorites of us,” she teased.

Andy scooted closer to Gem, allowing her to settle in next to his larger frame.

The cart began to move, a slow and loud clicking noise sounded as they climbed the first hill.

“Bet you’re gonna scream louder than me,” Gem teased, giggling as they climbed the track.

“I ain’t gonna-” Andy said, confidently.

Then one last loud click rang out, and suddenly they surged back toward the ground. 

“SCREAM!” Andy hollered, pushing his hat down onto his head to keep it from flying off as they plummeted down the drop.

Gem threw her arms up, laughing and giggling as the ride whipped through tight twists and turns. She squealed with delight the entire time, loving every second.

Andy, on the other hand, was nearly keeled over. His face had turned a sickly shade of green, and he clung to the safety bar like his life depended on it. Apparently, his body still had a very low tolerance for this kind of excitement.

As the ride finally began to slow, Gem glanced over at her big brother, her expression full of innocent concern.

“Andy?” she asked sweetly.

“I’m okay,” he muttered, though he clearly wasn’t. “Just... pinky promise me you won’t tell Jas, alright?”

“Pinky promise,” she said seriously, locking her pinky with his to seal the oath.

When the ride came to a stop, Andy helped his sister exit the cart and they met Jas on the platform from where they first loaded. 

“How was that?” She asked, looking at Gem with her hand held out.

“It was amazing!” Gem replied, giving her a low five. “Can we go on the carousel next?”

“Of course, we can. I’ll ride with you on that one,” Jasmine replied.

The little girl took off one once more, heading for the spinning fruit.

“You gonna make it there, yakboy?” Jasmine said, her voice sounding concerned. 

Andy took a second, and physically shook off his nauseous, “Yeah, Imma be fine. Reckon when I got my two favorite girls with me, I can do anything.”

“Sweet talker,” Jasmine grinned, pulling him towards the next ride.

Andy watched the girls as they spun around on the carousel.

Gem sat snuggled up next to Jasmine, waving at Andy every time she passed by. He waved back each time, occasionally sticking his tongue out in a playful tease that always made Gem giggle.

For a while, everything felt peaceful. But when Gem and Jasmine disappeared behind the far side of the ride, Andy let his attention wander. He scanned his surroundings, his hunter instincts kicking in even on what should have been a relaxing day.

It was a good thing he did.

Out of the corner of his eye, near the concession area, he caught sight of two large, shadowy figures causing trouble. Andy blinked, making sure he wasn’t imagining things — but his vision stayed sharp.

There, in broad daylight, stood two bandirats hurling molotovs straight at the food stand.

“Stop the ride. Now,” Andy shouted, rushing toward the control panel.

“Look, pal, I ain’t got time for your nonsense,” the operator replied, waving him off.

Just as Andy was about ready to shove the man aside, a large orange and red flame burst into the sky. One of the molotovs had struck the roof, and the dry wood caught quickly.

“Ah... okay. I see that now,” the operator said quickly, slamming his fist down on the emergency stop button.

As the carousel groaned to a halt, Andy sprinted over to Jasmine and Gem. Around them, panic had already taken hold. People screamed and ran in all directions, desperate to escape.

Andy scooped Gem into his arms and grabbed Jasmine’s hand. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

Jasmine nodded, her eyes wide with urgency, and followed close as they pushed through the growing chaos toward the entrance.

Crowds swarmed the front gates, scrambling to hitch rides on the nearest yakmel carts to flee the scene.

Andy set Gem down and pushed her gently toward Jasmine. “Get to Logan. For every rat you see, there’s usually five more you don’t.”

“Okay,” Jasmine said quickly, nodding and accepting Andy’s orders without question. “I’ll get him.”

“Be careful, Andy,” Gem whispered, tears brimming in her eyes.

Andy knelt down, lifting her chin to meet his gaze. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Pinky promise?” she asked softly, raising her small pinky toward him.

Andy’s expression softened. He locked pinkies with her without hesitation. “Pinky promise, Gem.”

Jasmine took Gem’s hand firmly and hurried through the entrance, racing back toward town. She knew exactly where she was going — straight to The Builder and Logan. Andy would need help, and fast.

Left standing alone, Andy took a deep breath and slipped on his steel swipers. Electricity hummed to life around his fists.

“Catori’s gonna flip when she hears there’s a rat problem,” he muttered, turning back toward the smoke and flames.

Junior, Logan, and the Builder sat on one side of the table while Jane sat on the other. She slid Junior’s report card across to them, showing the average scores of each student and where Junior stood on the scale.

“Hmmph,” Logan grunted, glancing over the paper. “Not bad, kid. Reckon your writin’ could be better, but hey, everything else looks pretty good.”

The Builder smiled and ruffled her son’s hair. “I’m proud of you, baby. Keep up the good work.”

Junior let out a sigh of relief. So far, so good.

Jane was just about to go over some new project ideas for the kids when the front door to the school burst open.

Jasmine rushed in, her eyes locking immediately onto Logan and the Builder.

“I really hate to interrupt, but something’s happened,” she said, tension heavy in her voice.

“Jas? What’s going on, honey?” The Builder asked, standing up and moving toward her, concern etched on her face.

“We were at Catori World,” Jasmine began quickly. “Some of those rat soldiers showed up. Andy stayed behind to fight them. I came as fast as I could. He needs help, Logan.”

Logan and the Builder shared a worried look. And without hesitation, Logan stood up.

“Lemme grab Rambo,” he said, already rushing past Jasmine and out the door.

“Where’s Gem?” the Builder asked, her voice growing more cautious as fear slipped in.

“I’m here, Momma!” Gem called out, pushing past Jasmine and running straight into her momma’s arms.

The Builder scooped her up in a tight hug, relief flooding her face. She looked up to Jasmine and mouthed a silent, thank you.

Jasmine nodded, her expression tight with worry. Deep down, she could only hope Andy would be alright. Their relationship had just begun, and the thought of losing him so soon was more than she could bear.

Andy returned to the stand, now nearly scorched to the ground. Luckily, no one had been inside when the flames took hold.

However, the two bandirats from before weren’t alone anymore. A few more had joined them, forming a small posse that eyed Andy with wicked intent.

“Alright, you wanna fight?” Andy called out, clicking the Steel Swipers to life. Electricity crackled as the blades burst from his knuckles. “Let’s do this.”

One of the rats — the same one who had thrown the first molotov — wasted no time. It lunged forward with a spear, aiming straight for Andy’s neck.

Andy dodged at the last second, twisting to the side. He managed to catch the rat off balance, disarming it in one swift move.

With an opening now clear, Andy drove his blades forward, puncturing the creature’s chest.

The beast let out a weak gasp before collapsing to the dirt, going still as its comrades hissed and spread out, circling him.

Andy looked around, locking eyes with the remaining bandirats. Their angry glares sent a chill through him as panic began to creep into his chest. He felt like a beast backed into a corner with no way out.

Just as the pressure mounted, he spotted Rambo charging in hot and heavy. A cloud of dust trailing behind him. Logan rode low in the saddle, leaning to the side with deadly precision.

The rats turned, distracted by the sudden commotion.

In one smooth pass, Logan lashed out with his dagger, cutting down two of them in a single, clean swipe. Their bodies hit the dirt before they even realized what had happened.

The remaining rats hesitated, watching their posse lose two more members. 

Before they could react, Logan came around for a second pass. This time, he launched himself from Rambo’s saddle, landing right beside Andy. Without missing a beat, he readied himself for the next round.

“‘Bout time you showed up,” Andy cracked, shifting back-to-back with Logan.

“You pick the worst times to be funny,” Logan shot back, eyes scanning the enemies. “But seriously, you alright, partner?”

“Nothing a little dirt won’t fix.”

“Good,” Logan said, steel flashing in his eyes. “Now let’s run these rats outta here.”

Back-to-back, Andy and Logan circled slowly, their eyes locked on the four remaining bandirats. The tension building in the air, thick as desert dust before a storm.

Without a word, they moved. Like a pair of hot shots gunning for glory, they lunged forward at the same time, each hunter squaring off with two of the rats.

Logan struck first, moving with the sharp precision only years of experience could bring. He stepped aside as the first rat lunged, hooking its spear with his dagger and yanking it forward. With a swift twist, he knocked it clean off balance and drove his blade home.

"One down," Logan muttered, already turning to face his second target.

Meanwhile, Andy was moving fast on his end. One of the bandirats swung wildly, but Andy ducked low, sliding through the dirt and popping up right behind it. His Steel Swipers sparked to life as he slashed upward, sending the rat flying back into its companion.

"Another one for the ditch!" Andy quipped, not missing a beat.

Logan glanced his way with a small grin. "Show-off."

The final two rats hesitated, glancing between the two hunters and their fallen comrades. But hesitation was a mistake.

Andy and Logan exchanged a quick look. No words needed.

In perfect sync, Logan dashed forward to engage, feinting high while Andy circled wide. As Logan locked blades with the rat, Andy came in from the side and drove his Swipers into its back, dropping it clean.

The last bandirat, eyes wide with fear, turned to flee.

"Not so fast," Logan growled, tossing his dagger.

The blade spun through the air and struck true, pinning the rat’s tattered cloak to a wooden post nearby. Before it could even squeal, Andy closed in and delivered the final blow.

Silence fell over the charred battlefield.

Andy let out a breath, pushing back his hat and wiping the sweat from his brow.

"Well... that was somethin'," he said, catching his breath.

Logan sheathed his backup knife and gave a sharp nod. "Jasmine had me worried, but ya held yer own. Real proud of ya, Andy.”

Andy smirked, feeling that familiar warmth in his chest, even in the middle of the wreckage.

“Thanks for savin’ my skin, Pa. Still don’t feel like I’m ready to be on my own just yet.”

Logan gave a warm smile, “Don’t worry. When yer ready, you’ll know.”

Back at the homestead, Ma, Gem, Junior, and Jasmine sat on the porch with bated breath.

Junior was camped next to his momma, her arm wrapped tightly around him, while Gem stayed close to Jasmine, their hands intertwined.

“When are Pa and Andy coming home?” Gem asked softly, a faint whine escaping her.

“I’m sure they’ll be back soon, sweetie. Your Pa and brother are two of the roughest, toughest, and most dangerous hunters this side of the Eufaula,” Jasmine replied, trying to lighten the mood. “Those rats don’t stand a chance.”

Gem sniffled, offering a weak smile as she tried her hardest to believe Jasmine’s words.

The problem was... Jasmine wasn’t sure if she believed them.

Would Andy and Logan really be coming home soon? Or had they finally bitten off more than they could chew?

Her head said no. Those two could handle some run-of-the-mill bandirats. But her heart… her heart whispered something else entirely.

It reminded her how deeply she felt for Andy. And that aching in her chest? That was the fear — fear that when you have someone, you also risk losing them. Even if this felt like it shouldn’t be a big deal, her heart decided otherwise.

Jasmine sighed quietly, trying to stay strong for Gem and Junior. If they saw the truth of what she was feeling, the whole porch might drown in worry.

“He’ll come home, Jasmine. Logan will make sure of it,” Ma said gently, noticing Jasmine spiraling.

“Thank you. I just want him to come home in one piece,” Jasmine admitted softly.

Ma offered a knowing smile, her voice soft but sure. “Honey, loving a monster hunter ain’t easy. You just thank the stars when they come home safe. And if they don’t come back all the way whole... Well, coming home is still enough.”

Jasmine gave a weak smile, her chest tightening. Loving Andy was going to be hard — she knew that now. But as she glanced toward the horizon, her mind drifted to Ma and Logan. What they had... was the stuff of dreams. The kind of love worth chasing.

And in that moment, Jasmine knew deep down — she’d learn to love a ramblin man, no matter where the road took him.

“Pa! Andy!” Junior shouted, snapping Jasmine out of her thoughts.

The family rushed together, sharing hugs and holding each other tight, cherishing the return of their two monster hunters.

Jasmine hung back a little, not wanting to interrupt the reunion. She smiled quietly, her heart swelling as she watched them.

But Andy noticed.

He broke away from the group and walked over to her, his expression soft.

“Hey,” he said gently. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Jasmine replied, rising to meet him. “Just glad you’re safe, is all.”

Without another word, she pulled him into a much-needed hug. Andy rested his chin on her shoulder, holding her close. His arms were strong and steady, making her feel safe — like she could leave all her worries behind, just for a little while.

After a moment, Andy pulled back slightly, still holding her hand.

“Let’s go get somethin’ to eat. Just you and me,” he offered with a small smile.

Jasmine squeezed his hand, her own smile returning. “Sure, Andy.”

The full moon hung high above Andy and Jasmine, casting a soft silver glow against the darkness of the night. Stars dotted the sky, clear as day, making their stroll back to the homestead feel almost magical.

"It’s still so warm out here," Jasmine said, fanning herself as they stepped off the Blue Moon’s porch.

"Yeah," Andy agreed, glancing toward the Oasis. "You’d think after livin’ here this long, we’d be used to it."

That’s when the idea hit him.

He shot her a look, already tugging gently on her hand. "We could go swimmin’," he suggested, nodding toward the glimmering water under the moonlight.

"Andy," Jasmine warned, raising a brow. "I didn’t bring my suit."

A wild grin tugged at Andy’s lips, mischief lighting up his eyes. The thought was plain as day.

Skinny dipping.

Before he could even say it, Jasmine caught on.

"No," she said firmly, reading him like a book. "I’m not doing that."

Andy just shrugged, clearly undeterred, and took off running toward the Peach Statue with a laugh.

Jasmine followed as Andy vaulted over the picket fence with ease.

"Andy, you’re gonna get caught," she warned, glancing around nervously.

"C’mon, Jas. I’ve done this plenty of times," he said with a grin.

"YOU WHAT?" she nearly shouted, her voice rising in disbelief.

"Shhh..." Andy turned, pressing his finger to his lips. "Yer gonna have the whole town on alert."

Jasmine huffed, but fell silent, watching as Andy casually began to undress. The moonlight hid the redness blooming in her cheeks, though the warmth spreading through her chest was undeniable.

First went his cape — he carefully untied the knot and let it fall softly to the ground. Then came his shirt, which revealed a more mature, muscled frame than she remembered. He wasn’t the lanky boy she’d grown up with.

Her eyes lingered, sparkling with surprise, and her heart gave a heavy thump.

"Reckon you wouldn’t wanna give me some privacy while I take off the rest, would ya?" Andy teased, catching her staring.

Jasmine snapped out of her trance and quickly turned her back toward the train station, cheeks burning. She stood there stiffly until the sound of a loud splash echoed through the quiet night.

Andy surfaced from the water, pushing his slick hair back with both hands. He glanced around, unsure if Jasmine had stuck around or decided to hightail it back home.

She was still there.

And though everything in her screamed this was not a good idea... she climbed the fence anyway, determination shining in her eyes. Without a word, she began to remove her clothes.

Andy watched, brow arching in curiosity as he floated lazily in the water.

"Ahem." Jasmine cleared her throat and made a small turning motion with her hand.

Andy sighed dramatically but grinned, spinning around to give her the privacy she demanded.

A moment later, a splash sounded against the quiet of the desert town. 

Andy turned back just in time to see Jasmine breaking through the surface, water cascading down her shoulders as she caught her breath.

They both treaded water, enjoying the coolness against their heated skin.

"This is nice," Jasmine admitted at last, her voice soft.

"Ain’t it though?" Andy replied, leaning back and letting himself float lazily just below the surface.

Without warning, Jasmine struck. She cupped her hands and splashed a wave of water right at him, catching him completely off guard.

"Alright, you asked for it!" Andy laughed, splashing back.

The two of them launched into a full-blown splash war, sending waves in every direction as laughter sounded into the night.

Just as Jasmine was about to declare victory, a sharp, whiny voice cut through the fun.

"Hey! Who’s out there?" Came the call from the nearby water tower.

Andy acted fast. He grabbed Jasmine and pulled her close, pressing them both against the rock wall. His rough hands slid across her stomach as he steadied her, causing both of them to blush fiercely at the sudden, intimate contact.

They ducked low, the water hiding them as they held their breath.

Burgess clomped down the stairs, flashlight sweeping across the surface of the oasis. He paused, eyes narrowing as he scanned the eerily still water.

Jasmine couldn’t hold her breath much longer. She shot up first, gasping quietly. Andy followed suit, both of them now caught red-handed as they stared straight at Burgess — and he stared right back.

"Get outta my oasis!" Burgess shouted, scandalized.

Andy and Jasmine scrambled toward the opposite edge, stumbling out of the water as they grabbed their clothes and bolted into the night.

Burgess stood frozen, his head in his hands as the realization hit him like a freight train.

When he finally rushed into the Civil Corps office, his voice rang out loud and horrified.

"NAKED! THEY WERE NAKED, I TELL YOU!"

Poor Justice, groggy and halfway through his night shift, just sighed and muttered, "Peach... I need a vacation."

Chapter Text

Chapter 15 - There’s a Snake in My… Church?

“We must offer forgiveness to everyone,” Burgess preached from the pulpit. “But I want to remind you all that forgiving does not simply mean forgetting.”

His eyes drifted across the congregation and landed right on Andy.

Andy sat in the front pew, holding Jasmine’s hand. The moment their eyes met, Burgess blushed a deep crimson and quickly looked away, pretending to refocus on the rest of the crowd. Apparently, Andy and Jasmine’s late-night swim in the Oasis was not so easily forgotten.

“Heh,” Andy mused, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Quit it. We are at church,” Jasmine whispered, elbowing him in the arm.

“He was lookin’ at me first,” Andy muttered, still smirking. “You gotta admit, this sermon hits a little close to home.”

Jasmine opened her mouth to argue, then closed it, refusing to dignify him with a response. She still couldn’t believe they’d actually gone skinny dipping, but clearly, Burgess was having a harder time coping than either of them.

“That’s what I thought,” Andy said smugly.

Jasmine rolled her eyes and leaned her head onto his shoulder, knowing full well that the second she touched him, he’d melt. And more importantly, it’d keep him quiet.

Andy knew exactly what she was doing, but he didn’t care. He leaned his head onto hers, offering affection and comfort while breathing in the familiar scent of her hair. Raspberries . It was a smell he’d come to associate with her, and every time it hit him, it made his heart ache in the best kind of way.

From a few rows back, Trudy watched them quietly. Enraptured, really, by the young love blooming right in front of her.

Jasmine offered peace to the restless soul that Andy was. And in turn, Andy offered protection to her daughter — in something as simple as a lean of the head.

Trudy smiled and let out a soft sigh. They were a well-placed match. And of course, the Builder was one of her closest friends. If things kept going like this, there’d be wedding planning in the not-so-distant future.

Still, they were just kids. But even so... Trudy liked the idea of them being together.

The sound of the church bells rang aloud, dismissing the crowd.

Andy and Jasmine stood up, linking arm in arm, ready to leave when Burgess stepped forward to stop them.

“Ahem,” Burgess started, clearly struggling to get his words out. “We have an issue in our basement that requires a monster hunter. The Church of the Light requires your services, Andy.”

He stood there awkwardly, eyes glued to the floor, then flicking up to the wall. He was doing everything he could to avoid making eye contact.

“Uh, sure, Burgess. What kind of problem are you having?” Andy asked.

“Vipers, it seems. It’s pretty warm down there. I thought I could get by another fall without replacing the piping, but looks like I’ll have to ask your Ma for help with that too.”

“Yeah, no problem. We can handle that for ya.”

“Good,” Burgess replied, twiddling his thumbs against his stomach. “Real good.”

Andy glanced at Jasmine, who hadn’t said a word. She was just watching the whole thing unfold with little to no expression.

This was awkward. Just plain awkward.

“Well, if that’s all, Pastor, we’ll be headin’ on out,” Andy said.

“Sure,” Burgess agreed, a red blush growing in his cheeks as he turned away.

As they stepped out through the large wooden doors of the church, Jasmine stepped in front of Andy. There was a worried look in her eyes.

“What if Burgess tells Logan? Or your Ma? Or worse... my Ma?” she asked.

“Relax, hun. Burgess ain’t gonna say nothin’. You worry too much,” Andy said, gently caressing her cheek in reassurance.

Jasmine sighed and leaned into his touch.

She’d never done anything before that might cause a stir. And with Trudy being the mayor, she knew her actions reflected more than just herself. Jasmine didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize her mama’s standing in town.

“I hope you’re right. I don’t know what’ll happen if they find out.”

Andy tilted her chin up to him and planted a soft, sweet kiss on her lips. “Don’t stress. It was my idea anyway.”

“Yes, yes it was,” Jasmine agreed.

Andy broke away and gave a sharp whistle. Waylon came trotting up to his side, loyal as ever.

“Hey now, don’t be so quick to agree,” Andy laughed as he swung into the saddle. “Besides, it sure seemed like you enjoyed the show.”

Jasmine grinned, avoiding Andy’s gaze as she focused real hard on the cobblestones, suddenly very interested in every crack and pebble.

“I’ll see ya later,” Andy said, tearing off into the afternoon sun.

“Bye, love.” Jasmine waved.

Andy smiled, but then the realization hit him… hard. He did a double take, glancing back at Jasmine, who was still standing there, waving as he rode away.

Love? Did she really just say love?

Andy arrived back home and stabled Waylon, then parked himself on the front porch.

That word already?

Love?

Did she mean it playfully? Did she really mean it?

Sure, they’d known each other forever, and sure, he’d thought about the future. But what did she mean by it? He’d felt something for her for a long time, but to give it a name like love ? That felt too soon… right?

She’d just come back home, and their relationship was still new. Well— newer . It wasn’t that he was denying his feelings, but putting a word to it, especially one with that much weight, made his chest tighten.

And what if she was just playing? He called her hun, darlin’, sweetness. Maybe she was just meeting him where he was.

Andy took off his hat and tossed it to the side, then brought his hands to his face, pushing back his hair. His deep-scarlet eyes stared ahead, clouded with doubt.

“You alright there, boy?” Logan asked, stepping out onto the porch.

“What? Yeah, I’m fine,” Andy blurted, clearly startled by Logan’s intrusion.

“Hmm.” Logan nodded. “M’kay. Well… yer momma made lunch. Wanna come on in and eat?”

“Sure. That’d be good.”

Logan held the door open as Andy walked through. The smell of tomato and egg soup filled the air.

Andy took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the home-cooked meal. It was just enough to calm him down for now.

“Hey, baby,” the Builder greeted. “Have a seat and I’ll get you a cheese sandwich to dunk in the soup too.”

“Thanks, Ma.”

She came over, a plate and bowl in hand, and set them down in front of Andy. Then she ruffled his hair and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead before returning to the stove to make Logan’s.

“Hey, where’s mine, darlin’?” Logan teased, gesturing to the empty space in front of him.

“It’s coming, it’s coming. Just be patient, would you? If I had you cooking, we’d all starve,” Ma quipped back.

Andy about choked on his sandwich, watching his parents banter back and forth.

Logan looked to him for backup, but Andy knew better. You never bet against Ma.

“Cruel woman, she is. Imma waste away over here.”

“Hush and take this plate before I get the nerve to add some duvos peppers in it.”

Logan was quick to take the plate from her, but he leaned in and placed a kiss on her cheek.

“Love you, darlin’.”

“Love you too.”

The Builder finished plating herself a bit of lunch and joined the boys at the table. Andy talked about Burgess’s sermon and his request for help with the vipers and the piping needing to be replaced.

“We could help with that. Gotta be careful with them vipers though. They’re ’bout as mean... well, as snakes. And that venom is no joke either. Any contact with it’s bound to burn your skin pretty bad.”

“Figured that’s why he asked us for help,” Andy replied before slurping down the rest of his soup.

Logan stood up from the table, gathering the dishes from each of them. He walked over to the sink and started running the water.

“Let me wash these dishes, and we’ll head on out.”

“I’m going to start at the Oasis,” Ma said, standing and brushing off her hands. “I doubt the piping there needs to be replaced, but if the church is getting too warm, then I’ll start with the source.” She wrapped her arm around Logan. “I’ll see you later then?”

“‘Course, beautiful,” he smiled.

“I’ll get the goats ready, then meet you out front,” Andy said, heading out the back door.

The Builder slipped on her rubber boots and waded into the water with her wrench. She tapped each pipe, testing their integrity.

Jasmine happened to be passing by and noticed her.

“Hi there!” she called out.

The Builder smiled, recognizing the sweet voice instantly. “Hiya, Jasmine!”

It was then that Burgess arrived on the scene. And Jasmine? She was still a bit too nervous to face him. Without another word, she turned and ran in the opposite direction.

Peach only knew how she’d face the Builder if Burgess decided to tell on them.

“Jasmine?” the Builder called out, watching as the redhead tucked tail and bolted.

She shrugged and continued checking the pipeline.

The final exposed piece of pipe made a strange sound when tapped. Ma paused, immediately recognizing it was the one that would need fixing.

“Burgess, would you hand me that spare piece laying there? I think I found our problem,” she asked, extending her arm out.

“I hate to ask,” Burgess began, chuckling nervously, “but... are your boots sanitized? I just don’t want any more contamination in the water supply.”

“What? Who did that?” Ma asked, completely baffled by the off-the-wall comment.

Burgess realized his mistake a second too late — and took off running.

The Builder let out a long sigh and lifted herself up from the water. “Alright. Guess I’ll get it myself. That’s okay too.”

Once fixed, the Builder took a moment to reflect on Burgess’s words. 

Who was out here contaminating the water?  

“Yer momma must’ve gotten that piping fixed. It’s pretty cool down here,” Logan said, the stairs creaking as he and Andy descended into the basement. “Reckon those snakes’ll be tryin’ to slink away. We can catch ‘em and take ‘em down to The Bend.”

“We aren’t just gonna kill ‘em?” Andy asked.

“Nah, partner. Let’s try trappin’ ‘em first. If they get aggressive, then we go to plan B.”

When they reached the basement floor, Andy scoped out the small room.

He scanned the corners, looking for places the snakes could’ve slithered into. A pile of barrels caught his eye, stacked randomly in the far corner. He motioned for Logan to check it out first.

“Getcha bag ready. I’ll grab ‘em, then you snatch ‘em up in the bag,” Logan whispered, crouching low and creeping toward the barrels.

Andy followed behind, slow and steady, the bag already open and ready for the vipers.

Logan lifted himself up onto the barrels and laid flat across them, peering over the edge to catch a glimpse. He held up two fingers.

Andy nodded, understanding that the task ahead had just doubled.

Two desert vipers lay coiled, resting against the still-warm floor of the basement.

Without hesitation, Logan struck. He brought his hand down and snatched one of the snakes in a flash.

Its mouth opened with a sharp hiss, thrashing at the sudden grip.

In the chaos, the second viper slipped away, unnoticed.

“Where’d the other one go?” Andy asked, eyes scanning the floor.

“Don’t worry ’bout that now. Here!” Logan barked, shoving the writhing snake into the bag.

Andy tied the bag shut and set it down. Then he lowered himself to the floor, checking every crevice and opening the second snake might’ve slithered into.

“Be careful, Andy. It’ll strike fast,” Logan warned, watching his son closely.

“I know, Pa,” Andy replied, focused.

Then — he saw it. The viper’s eyes reflected in the sunlight pouring through the basement window.

“Get the bag. Now,” Andy said, not breaking eye contact with the snake.

“Here, let me—” Logan started.

“Ain’t got time for that. Get the bag. I’m gonna snatch it up.”

Logan moved quickly, stepping back toward the bag, keeping a watchful eye on his boy.

Andy moved with deadly precision. He grabbed the viper in a flash, nearly getting bitten,  but he turned it with his other hand, redirecting its fangs away from him.

Logan opened the bag just in time, and Andy dropped the second viper in with the first.

Andy sighed, relieved. “Whew! Let’s get ‘em to The Bend then.”

“Followin’ you, partner,” Logan replied, allowing Andy to take the lead to their next destination. 

As the sun dipped low over Sandrock, Andy and Logan made it back to the homestead, the snake bag now empty and their boots caked in desert dust.

Ma greeted them on the porch, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

“Figured you boys might be hungry after the day you had. I’ve got dinner ready. Jasmine and Trudy are already inside!” she called out.

A nervous flutter settled into Andy’s chest. Monster hunting he could handle. But that “love” from Jasmine? That still hung heavy in the air.

“Andy?” Ma called again.

“Uh, yeah. Okay. Sounds good. Lemme get Waylon settled and I’ll be in.”

Logan slid off Rambo’s back and walked over to his wife, leaving Andy to lead Waylon toward the stable.

“What’s going on with him?” the Builder asked.

“Not sure. If he keeps it up, I’ll chat with him.”

She watched her son disappear around the corner, a flicker of worry in her eyes.

Logan caught it and gently tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I can see you spinnin’ those wheels, hun. If you think any harder, I reckon steam’s gonna come outta those ears.”

“Not funny,” Ma said, chuckling as she gave him a light push.

“C’mon,” Logan grinned. “Let’s get to eatin’ already.”

The dinner table was crowded with good smells and even better company. Steamed rice, five-spice steak, and cold cactus sat between worn hands and eager forks.

“How was your day, darlin’?” Logan asked, spooning a helping into his mouth. “The basement was pretty cool when we got in there. Reckon you got it fixed pretty quick, did ya?”

“It was a simple fix,” Ma replied. “Did any of you talk to Burgess today? He told me someone had ‘contaminated’ the Oasis.”

The entire table shared confused glances — except Jasmine, who kicked Andy under the table and mouthed, I told you so.

Trudy wiped her mouth with a napkin and swallowed. “Ah yes, I heard a rumor that someone was skinny dipping in the Oasis. Caught by Burgess, no less. Said there were two of them. They took off as naked as the day they were born. I bet it was a sight!” she laughed.

“Wait — Burgess went skinny dipping? That’s ironic, ain’t it?” Junior quipped.

Ma shot him a glare that could’ve made a grown man cower.

“What’s skinny dipping?” Gem asked, blinking innocently.

“Nothing, baby,” the Builder replied quickly, trying to do crowd control.

Jasmine glanced at Andy, then sighed before addressing the table.

“It was us.”

Andy brought his hand to his forehead, raking his fingers back through his hair.

Meanwhile, Junior elbowed him and held out a fist for a bump.

Andy did not fist bump his younger brother. 

“What? Yer kiddin’ me? You and Andy did that?” Logan asked, eyebrows raised.

“Yes. We did,” Jasmine admitted, placing her hands behind her back and glancing at Trudy. “I’m really sorry, Ma.”

Trudy chuckled gently as she stood up and gave her daughter a side hug.

“Don’t worry so much about me, Jas. You two are young — you need to live a little. I just won’t be bringing it up at the fireside meetings anytime soon.”

“Thanks, Ma,” Jasmine said, leaning into her hug.

Andy turned to his parents. Ma looked at Logan. Logan looked at Ma.

They both shrugged and went back to their plates.

“Wait. Do y’all not care either?” Andy asked, genuinely surprised.

“Nah, partner. We’ve done worse than that,” Logan laughed.

The Builder gasped, swatting his arm with a playful smack.

Logan scratched his head with a sheepish grin. “Uh yeah… no worries, Andy.”

Jasmine sat back down next to Andy. He wrapped an arm around her and kissed her cheek.

“See? Nothin’ to worry about.”

“I know. Thank you, love.”

And there it was.

Love.

And it sent Andy spiraling all over again.

Chapter Text

Chapter 16 - Flooded Flashbacks

It was late at night when Wei stopped by Ma’s house, but this wasn’t a normal house call.

He didn’t bother his builders unless it was important, and tonight was no different.

“Hey, I hate to bug you,” he said, glancing around like he felt bad about it. “Mi-an usually handles the night shifts, but she’s not feeling well. And Burgess is having a fit over a leak at the water tower. Think you could check it out for me?”

Ma smiled, always happy to assist. “Sure, Wei. Just let me grab my things and I’ll head that way.”

Relief washed over his face. “Thank you. You and Mi-an are my rockstars. If I didn’t have you... well, I don’t want to even think about it.”

Wei stepped off the porch and headed back home. No doubt this was the last commission he would be requesting tonight.

The Builder turned back inside and looked for her tool bag. She picked up the remaining things she needed, packed them neatly, and opened the door to find her partner standing in the doorway.

“Howdy, darlin’,” Logan said, greeting her with a warm tone. “Goin’ somewhere, are ya?”

“Burgess is having a fit about a leak at the water tower. Mi-an is sick so I’m up to bat.”

“Ya want some company? Imma not too busy right now, and I could be with you if you want.”

The Builder tilted her head, considering his request.

“Yeah, that might be nice. Never know what monsters we might encounter on the way over or back.”

“I got yer back. Ain’t nothin’ gettin’ in between you and me tonight,” he chuckled.

“Is that so?” Ma quipped, already stepping out the door toward the tower.

“Well... I didn’t exactly have this in mind for our evenin’, but it’s time with ya. I’ll take it when I can,” Logan said, falling into step beside her.

Logan and Ma stood at the bottom of the water tower, both of them looking up.

“Hmm...” Ma murmured, eyes scanning for the leak that had Burgess all tied up in knots.

“I don’t see what all the fuss is about,” Logan said, making a big show of scoping out the structure.

“Shhh... you don’t hear that?”

Logan turned to her, his brows pulling together.

Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop.

The Builder nodded along with the sound, almost falling into a trance as she listened. Her ears followed the rhythm, tracing the source.

“There’s a valve up top. The drip is hitting the sheeting below,” she said, already seeing the path she’d take. “Give me a boost, would you love?”

“Don’t think so, hun,” Logan replied, a mischievous grin on his lips, and grabbing the grappling gun from his belt.

“Huh? Why not?” she asked.

“Because I got a better idea.”

Logan swept the Builder up into his arms and aimed the gun skyward. The hook caught on the ledge near the leaking valve with a satisfying clang .

“Hold on tight,” he said, as they launched into the air.

They swung around the tower, the wind tugging at their clothes as the night wrapped around them.

The Builder kept her eyes on him, watching how focused he was, how steady. His grip was firm but gentle, his body shielding hers from the chill in the air.

His eyes held that familiar fire — the same one that always burned for her. Adventure. Protection. Passion. All of it, just for her.

They reached the ledge and pressed themselves as close as they could against the tank. One wrong step and it would be a long fall. And the last thing either of them needed was to be laid up.

“Reckon I’m gonna head up top,” Logan said, gripping the metal roof above them. “It’ll give me a good vantage point to watch yer back.”

“Sure, leave me with all the hard work,” Ma laughed, pulling a wrench from the bag that was slung over her shoulder.

“I love ya, but I don’t think a wrench’s gonna do much against the beasts of the desert,” Logan called back as he climbed.

“You’ve seen me in action before,” the Builder replied, tightening the bolts around the leaking valve. “This wrench is heavier than those daggers I used to carry. I think I’ve got a good chance.”

“If that’s what ya think,” Logan said, peeking over the edge, “but I’m not letting anything get near ya to try it.”

“Aren’t you sweet?” Ma shot back, eyes still on her work with a smirk playing at her lips.

She tightened the wrench around a nut and tried to turn it, but the damn thing wouldn’t budge.

She grunted, groaned, and pulled at it again, but still nothing.

Making one last ditch effort, she gave it one more hard tug.

Snap.

The sharp sound of metal breaking echoed into the night, followed by a sudden blast of cold water from the town’s reserve. The Builder was soaked in an instant.

Logan peered over the edge, stifling a laugh. “That didn’t sound good.”

The Builder let out a long sigh. Of course this is how it would go. She should’ve just stayed home, but she knew that that just wasn’t the kind of person she was.

Water was shooting from the broken valve, drenching her from head to toe.

Still, she took a moment, reset herself, and went into fix-it mode.

She remembered she had packed a spare valve just in case something like this happened.

Logan watched from above, completely amazed. The way her mind worked, the way she moved with purpose and clarity even now — it never failed to leave him in awe.

A few minutes later, she finished the repair. And the water stopped flowing.

But now she stood there shivering, cold air biting at her soaked skin and clothes.

Logan extended his hand. “Come up here. I got somethin’ that’ll warm you up.”

Ma took it without hesitation. His grip was firm, steady, and he pulled her up with ease.

“Probably be best if you took off those wet clothes,” he said, eyeing her soaked shirt. “That’s what’s makin’ you shiver.”

She shot him a confused look, one brow arched, suspecting he had more in mind than he let on.

“Just do it,” he said gently, already standing and unfastening the buttons that held his cape to his vest.

The Builder gave a subtle nod and started with her top. She grabbed the hem and slowly pulled it up over her head.

Logan’s face flushed with heat as he watched her undress, but after a second, he turned away and shut his eyes, trying to give her the respect he knew she deserved. Still, he couldn’t deny that seeing her strip down was definitely fueling the fire burning beneath the cool desert moon.

She noticed.

She smiled softly. He was trying to be a true gentleman, even now.

Logan was always quick with a flirt, but this — seeing her like this, wanting her like this — it caught him off guard. The banter he could handle. But this kind of closeness? This kind of ache? That was something else entirely.

“You gonna make it over there, yakboy?” she teased, her voice playful as she tugged at the waistband of her pants.

“I just…” he started, then trailed off. “I didn’t want to assume that… I don’t know what I’m tryin’ to say.”

Completely at a loss for words… he held out his cape above his head, ready to wrap her up, even as it shielded his own flustered expression.

The Builder stepped forward, bare and brave, and walked herself into the warmth of his cape. Logan wrapped her up in one strong motion, pulling her close to his chest.

He pulled her down to sit between his legs, his arms still holding her tight.

The moon hung high, casting a silver glow across the desert. The stars stretched endlessly above, sparkling like they were put there just for the two of them.

Logan leaned back, letting the view sink in. Enjoying the peace of the night sky.

But the longer he looked, the more a certain mood grew within him. And it was the reason he wanted her closer — not just beside him, but with him. In every way.

His hand moved on instinct, slipping through the opening of the cape to find her skin.

Chilled. Soft. Real.

Ma felt his hand, calloused and warm, against her cold skin. She leaned into him, savoring every second of his touch.

It appeared she was enjoying the evening sky just as much as he was.

Her head tilted back, exposing her neck in quiet invitation.

Logan didn’t hesitate. He pressed soft, deliberate kisses along the curve of her throat, his lips trailing upward with aching patience.

When he reached her ear, his breath brushed warm against her skin as he whispered, “That ain’t the only thing I had in mind to warm you up, darlin’.”

She smiled and turned toward him, placing her hands on his chest to steady herself before gently pushing him down onto the cool metal beneath them.

Logan gripped her hips, holding her in place as she began undoing the fabric that kept him shielded from her.

Once he was bare to her, she wrapped them both in his cape, drawing it around their bodies like a promise.

Logan rolled on top of her, their lips meeting in a slow, steady rhythm — smooth, mild, and full of feeling.

And as the moonlight bathed them in silver, the two of them came together in a moment of pure, unspoken bliss.

The morning sun had just started peeking over the rocks, brushing them in strokes of orange and pink.

“Builder!” Wei called from the base of the tower.

Ma stirred, a soft and sleepy sound escaping her chest. Logan’s arm was still draped over her side, pulling her close. His warmth radiated between them beneath the cape.

“Builder! Did you pull an all-nighter?” Wei called again.

She sat up fast, heart skipping as she realized they were still up on the tower — and very much exposed. She yanked the cape tighter around herself, doing her best to cover her chest.

“Uh, yeah, Wei,” she called back, voice half-strained. “Burgess was right to be all up in a huff about it. I fixed it though.”

Burgess arrived on cue, chest puffed out. “See? I told you I wasn’t overreacting! Leaks lead to bigger issues, Wei!”

The shouting roused Logan. He sat up groggily beside her and blinked down at the scene below. “Mornin’,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I feel well rested. How’d you sleep?”

Wei and Burgess looked up.

Logan had no shirt.

The Builder was wrapped in what was unmistakably his cape. 

And a heap of soaked clothes lay crumpled below, joined by a much drier set that hadn’t made it back on the local monster hunter.

Silence. Then—

“ ON THE WATER TOWER? MY WATER TOWER? ” Burgess howled, voice cracking like a kettle left on too long.

Wei winced and started pulling him away. “C’mon, Burgess. Let’s give them a minute to get... decent.”

Before he turned away completely, he glanced back at Ma and gave her a tight smile. “You can have the day off. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

As the two men vanished down the road, Logan looked over at Ma.

“Well,” he said. “Wei didn’t seem too bothered.”

“Poor Burgess,” Ma replied, shaking her head, still trying to process it.

Logan started glancing around. “Darlin’, where’re our clothes?”

They both leaned over the edge and spotted the heap on the ground.

“Shit,” Logan muttered, running a hand along his jaw.

Without missing a beat, the Builder grabbed his grappling gun from where it rested nearby.

“You coming?” she asked, utterly unbothered.

Logan let out a low chuckle, took the cape from her, and wrapped them both up as they zipped down to the wooden platform below.

They collected their clothes and disappeared back to Ma’s workshop in a hurry.

Chapter Text

Chapter 17 - An Evening Sky for You and I

“We’ve approved the funding for the Sandrock Publishing House, Jas,” Trudy said, patting her daughter on the back. “There’s a little place over by the research center I want you to take a look at. It’s got enough space to get you started.”

Jasmine lit up with excitement. “Great! Thank you so much, Ma! Will Heidi and the Builder be helping me with the renovations?”

“I’m sure if you ask, they will!”

Jasmine threw her arms around Trudy, hugging her tight before practically sprinting out the door. “I’m gonna go talk to both of them! The sooner we get started, the sooner I can get the word out about our quaint little town!”

Trudy shook her head fondly, watching her daughter charge headlong into the next chapter of her life. She was proud of the woman Jasmine was becoming. Watching her dreams take shape—that was all any parent could ever hope for.

Jasmine arrived at the Builder’s workshop, the steady hum of machinery all around her. It sounded like an industrial symphony — clanks, whirs, and the rhythmic hiss of steam in the air.

She walked up the porch steps and knocked.

Andy opened the door, his face lighting up with a smile.

“Hey, sweetness. What brings ya my way today?” he asked.

“Is your ma home? The funding for my publishing house got approved, and I need to talk to her about some ideas I have.”

“That’s great, Jas. C’mon in. She’s in the living room,” Andy replied, stepping aside and gesturing her in.

Jasmine stepped inside, her excitement buzzing off her like static. She didn’t waste a second before heading straight for the living room.

Andy watched her go, a grin still tugging at his lips. He hadn’t seen that much light in her eyes since the day he picked her up from the station a few weeks ago.

In the living room, Ma was looking over the week’s commissions when Jasmine came in with Andy following close behind.

Ma smiled, welcoming the company.

“Hiya, Builder! Got a second for me?” Jasmine asked, already taking a seat beside her.

Ma chuckled. “Of course, honey. What can I help you with?”

“I want to enlist your help with the renovations for my publishing house. You and Heidi working on it with me? Well, that’s a dream come true.”

“Sure, I’d love to help. Why don’t we grab Heidi and head over there now? We can start putting some ideas together.”

“Okay, sure!”

The girls got up, ready to head out. Ma grabbed some paper and writing materials so she could jot down everything Jasmine had in mind.

Andy walked Jasmine to the door.

“Reckon that means yer gonna be busy for a while then,” he said, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice.

He didn’t want to take away from her dream. He had no right to distract her from something that meant so much.

“Don’t think I won’t have time for you, love,” Jasmine replied, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “I’ll make time for you… for us.”

Andy smiled and watched them go.

As the door clicked shut behind them, he turned and leaned his back against it. Then, slowly, he slid to the floor and let out a long, quiet sigh.

Andy’s stomach had been in knots lately.

Jasmine calling him love had really sent him through the ringer.

Did she mean it? Was that just a word she used, or was she trying to say something more?

Did he love her?

Now that was a good question.

Sure, they’d known each other since they were kids. And he’d always felt something for her. Something strong. Something warm. But now that they were together (really together) taking big steps toward their futures... was this what love felt like?

He knew Logan had fallen in love with Ma because he found a partner in her. Someone steady. Someone who stood by him, no matter what. Nothing stood a chance when those two were together. And where you found one, the other wasn’t far behind.

He and Jasmine had been inseparable since they were small. And even now, with her diving headfirst into her publishing dream? That same ache came back... the one that reminded him just how much he was going to miss her while she chased this goal. But even through the ache, he felt relief too. Things were falling into place for her... for them. For whatever came next.

But if he was already thinking about building a life with her...

Wasn’t he already in love?

“Wheels are a turnin’, ain’t they?” Logan called from the stairs, watching Andy slumped against the door.

“Huh?” Andy sounded, snapping himself out of his own spiral. “I’m fine, Logan.”

“M’kay then,” Logan nodded. “Wanna come with me? I’m takin’ Rambo for a spin ‘round town. Gotta check the perimeters. Justice assigned me his patrols while he’s off on vacation or somethin’.”

Andy considered it for a moment, then gave a small nod. Maybe a ride would help clear his head. Or at least bury the thoughts deep enough to move on to the next thing.

“Yer momma’s worried ‘bout ya, you know that?” Logan said, easing Rambo to a stop.

He and Andy had just finished circling around town and were now overlooking the canyon near Shonash Bridge. The quiet wind tugged at their clothes, carrying the scent of dry rock and distant wildflowers.

Andy let out a long breath. Was it really that obvious something was eating at him?

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stared out over the edge of the canyon, watching the light shift across the cliffs as the sun crept toward late afternoon.

He had faced monsters. He’d been clawed at, trampled, nearly poisoned. He’d held his own with fists, rope, or Steel Swipers strapped to his hands. And he had Jasmine.

So why was love the thing that left him feeling like he’d taken a hit to the chest?

Maybe it was because you couldn’t fight feelings like you could a monster. They didn’t come with scales or horns or stingers. But they sure could hit just as hard and leave you just as bruised.

“I don’t really care to talk ‘bout it right now, Pa,” Andy muttered, giving Waylon a nudge to start back toward home.

Logan rode Rambo alongside him, watching his son closely. Though he was always quick to offer tough love, this time he softened his voice.

“Andy,” he said gently. “Is it somethin’ I can help with?”

“Nah. Reckon this is somethin’ I gotta wrestle with myself,” Andy replied, and with that, he kicked up dust and took off, leaving Logan behind in the hush of the canyon rim.

When Andy arrived home, Junior was standing at the gate with his fishing gear in hand and a smile on his face.

“Andy!” Junior called out. “Let’s go fishin’!”

“I don’t think so, partner. Ain’t exactly in the mood right now,” Andy replied, brushing past his younger brother.

Junior’s shoulders slumped, the smile slipping from his face. Andy always wanted to go fishing. Always. And now, all of a sudden, he didn’t? Junior wasn’t sure what was going on with his brother, but he knew Andy wasn’t actin’ right. Still, he also knew when to push—and now wasn’t one of those times.

“Oh… okay. Maybe tomorrow then?”

Andy kept riding toward the stable, but turned his head slightly over his shoulder.

“Don’t know, partner.”

Logan watched the interaction between his two sons, noticing the instant flicker of sadness that passed over Junior’s face. As Andy rode off toward the back of the property, Logan stepped in to offer a little comfort.

“Hey, partner,” he said. “How ‘bout you and me go fishin’? Give Andy a little space for now.”

Junior looked up at him, uncertainty clouding his eyes.

“Is he okay?”

“I think so,” Logan replied. “Just mullin’ somethin’ over is all.”

With a small smile, Logan bent down and extended his arm, lifting Junior up into the saddle.

It’d been days since Jasmine had stopped by the homestead.

And Andy? He was feeling it.

Nothing was actually stopping him from going to see her — not really. But he just didn’t feel right. Didn’t feel ready. Facing her, facing anyone, when he hadn’t sorted through the storm brewing inside him? It didn’t sit right.

So he stayed holed up in his room, stewing in silence.

He sat at the edge of his bed, engaging and disengaging the blades on his Steel Swipers. Over and over. Maybe if he focused hard enough on the mechanics, he’d find the answers he was looking for.

A small voice broke through the quiet.

“Andy?”

It was soft and unsure.

Gem.

Andy turned toward the door just in time to see a little hand slip something under it.

“I drew you a picture, Andy,” she said, her voice hopeful. “Wanna come play with me?”

He didn’t answer.

A few seconds passed, and then she leaned down. Her bright sapphire eyes peeked under the doorframe, searching for her brother.

Andy let out a slow sigh and rose to his feet, picking up the drawing she’d slid through.

“Not right now, Gem,” he said softly.

There was a pause, then a soft sigh from the other side of the door.

“Okay.”

Her small footsteps padded away down the hall.

Andy fell back onto his bed, arms splayed wide.

He didn’t know what to do with this feeling, and it seemed like trying to sort it out was doing more harm than good.

“Andy? Can I come in?” came a warm voice from the other side of the door.

Andy tensed. Another visitor.

This was turning into a whole family affair.

“It’s open,” he said at last, voice flat.

Ma stepped through the doorway, a soft smile on her face.

“Talk to me, baby,” she said gently. “I can’t bear to see you like this.”

“Ma, I’m fine.”

“That might work on your Pa and your siblings,” she replied, easing down onto the edge of the bed, “but don’t try it on me. You’ve been in a rut ever since that dinner with Trudy and Jasmine.”

Andy got up but didn’t make eye contact. He kept his gaze fixed on the window, watching tumbleweeds roll lazily across the sand outside.

Ma sat there, patient as ever. 

She did not press. She simply waited.

She had done this a hundred times with Logan. Andy stewing like this—it was clear he was taking a page right out of his Pa’s book.

Andy finally glanced back at her, surprised she was still sitting there.

“I’ll wait,” she said softly.

Andy hesitated, then spoke.

“It’s Jas, Ma,” he admitted. “She keeps calling me 'love'.”

Ma nodded slowly, her expression calm and open, giving him the space to continue if he needed.

But Andy simply looked at her, waiting for her to speak.

“All right… and why is that a problem?” she asked.

Andy rubbed the back of his neck, nerves getting the best of him.

“I guess… what if she does? What if I love her?” he said, words tumbling out now. “I ain’t ever felt anythin’ like this before. Are we too young for this? We haven’t been together long, but I don’t want anyone else. Never thought about anyone the way I feel about her.”

His chest felt lighter with every word. Like maybe saying it out loud helped. Like maybe the feelings he’d been carrying didn’t weigh quite as much now.

“Have you thought about talking to her about it?”

“Nah… I’ve just been kinda in my own thoughts up here.”

Ma gave a soft chuckle. “We noticed. Listen, baby. Growing up is hard. No sense in making it harder on yourself. ”

“Thanks, Ma.”

“I love you, Andy,” she said, ruffling his hair and planting a kiss on his forehead. “You feel everything a hundred percent. Nothing less. That’s probably one of the best qualities a man can have. Talk to Jasmine. I bet it’s one of the many reasons she’d love you.”

“Love ya too, Ma.”

And with that, the Builder stood and left the room, giving Andy space to sit with her words… and decide what to do next.

Jasmine arrived at City Hall early the next morning.

She set down her bag and took her usual seat, ready to dive into her next article. The quiet hum of the town still waking up buzzed faintly through the windows.

That’s when she noticed it.

A small folded note, resting neatly on top of her workspace.

She picked it up, eyes already softening.

The handwriting was unmistakable.

She smiled, heart fluttering with a warmth she hadn’t expected so early in the day.

She knew exactly who had written it.

                         Jas-

                                  Let’s go stargazing tonight. I got a good spot picked out on top of Gecko Station. We can take the tram. Meet me there later tonight, love.

                                                                                                                                                                                            -Andy

Jasmine folded the note and held it close for a second, a grin spreading across her face like sunlight creeping in through the blinds.

“Good note?” Heidi teased, stepping in with two steaming mugs and setting one down beside her.

“Yes,” Jasmine said, her voice soft and warm as she tucked the note safely into her bag. “Very good note.”

Heidi raised a brow, amused. “From a certain monster hunter, I take it?”

Jasmine just sipped her coffee, her cheeks tinged with a hint of color she didn’t bother to hide. “You could say that.”

Andy stood at the tram cart, eyes fixed on the horizon as Jasmine made her way up the stairs to join him.

“After you, my dear,” he said, tipping his hat and gesturing for her to step into the cart.

“Thank you,” she replied with a smile, sliding in beside him.

They rode across the canyon in quiet awe, the desert stretching out below them like a painting. What had once been scorched with red and orange during the day was now cloaked in cool evening tones of silver and blue.

“I thought this ride was beautiful during the day,” Jasmine said, her voice hushed. “But it doesn’t even compare to the evening.”

“It doesn’t even compare to you, Jas,” Andy said, slipping the words in so casually it caught her off guard.

A sharp breath left her lips. Her heart fluttered, and for a second, she had to hold onto the railing—not from the height, but from him.

The tram pulled into the dock at Gecko Station.

Andy stepped off first and took Jasmine’s hand, leading her to the quiet little spot he’d picked out just for the two of them. A perfect place for stargazing, tucked away from the town, peaceful and still.

Jasmine was the first to sit, settling on top of the station roof, and Andy joined her right after.

The cool desert air brushed against them, carrying with it the chill of the evening. Jasmine gave a small shiver.

Andy noticed right away. He unclipped the cloak from his shoulders and handed it to her.

“Wrap yourself up in this,” he offered.

Jasmine pulled it around her shoulders, but frowned slightly. “I don’t think it’s long enough for both of us, Andy.”

“Then get closer,” he said, sliding his arm around her and tugging her gently against his side.

Jasmine allowed herself to be pulled in, feeling the strength of his arms. They were comfortable — like coming home after a long day. Like nothing could reach her when he held her that way.

She leaned into his shoulder, and together they watched the stars above. Not a cloud in sight, and the sky sparkled like it was putting on a show just for them.

“Thank you, Andy,” she whispered against his neck.

“Reckon we needed a break. You’ve been workin’ hard gettin’ your publishing house ready and everythin’.”

“Yeah, I guess I have. What’ve you been up to these past few days?”

Andy hesitated, but remembered the words his Ma had said to him.

“Been thinkin’, mostly.”

“Oh? Well don’t keep me waiting,” Jasmine teased.

“Jas... you keep callin’ me love,” he confessed.

“Does that bother you?”

“No, I mean — nah, it doesn’t. But... what if...” He trailed off.

Jasmine turned to look him in the eyes, her teal meeting his scarlet.

It was like lightning when they locked eyes — that jolt of clarity, of knowing — and suddenly, Andy wasn’t afraid anymore.

“I love you, Jas,” he said, steady now. “Listen, you ain’t gotta say it back or anythin’. I just—”

She brought a finger to his lips, quieting him with a smile.

“I love you too, Andy. Now quit your rambling and kiss me already.”

“Yes ma’am,” Andy murmured, before leaning in and kissing her soft and slow beneath the stars.

Chapter Text

Chapter 18 - When the Dust Settles, and the Drinks are Poured

“Howdy, sir!” Unsuur greeted as he stepped into the Civil Corps office.

Justice had just returned from his vacation. He’d hit the beach, soaked up some rays, and even managed to drink out of a coconut. He had to admit, though it was nice having his toes in the sand and not a care in the world, he liked being back in Sandrock, serving as sheriff.

“Howdy, Unsuur. How were things ‘round here?”

“Captain and I went through his mousing records. He’s up three captures from last quarter. And I made new soup. It was chicken and noodles.”

“Oh really? That sounds good. You’ll have to share that with me sometime.”

“It’s just chicken with some pasta, sir,” Unsuur deadpanned.

“Right…” Justice said, turning to the filing cabinets behind him.

He skimmed through the drawers, noticing no new files had been added. And the ones already there? They’d all been solved.

Justice leaned back in his chair and spun around to find Unsuur upside down on the office couch, inspecting an orange-shaded stone.

“Unsuur? Anything on the commission board?”

“No, sir. Sure isn’t,” Unsuur replied, not breaking eye contact with the gemstone in his hand.

Justice spun his chair in a full circle, checking the bounty board. There was nothing posted there either.

“Well, I’ll be. I came back from vacation just for more vacation.”

“Minus the waves and shells, sir.”

“Yeah, Unsuur,” Justice muttered, digging through the bottom drawer of his desk.

Snacks, bullets, and medicines were scattered inside. He shuffled them around until he found what he was looking for.

Once he had it, he held it up and gave it a little shake.

“Critters then?”

“Sure. Not like we have anything else to do,” Unsuur agreed, coming over to the desk to join the sheriff.

Captain was taking his mid-afternoon nap when he was jolted awake by the sound of the local hunters closing the door behind them as they entered the office.

“Meeeeeeoooooowww!” he belted out at the sudden intrusion.

Justice didn’t even need to look up from his hand to know who it was. Logan and Andy usually stopped by around this time of day to check the board.

“Sorry, boys. Ain’t got anything for you today. Seems it’s gonna be a quiet one,” Justice said, flipping his card over.

“Well, deal me in then,” Andy said, pulling up a stool. “Gonna play with us, Logan?”

“Reckon yer momma's gonna need help movin’ some of them materials to Jasmine’s new place,” Logan replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

“C’mon, just one round. Then we can go help the girls,” Andy encouraged.

“Alright. Just one round though.”

Ten rounds later…

“Ah-ha! That’s another round for me,” Logan said, scooping the pile of gols towards himself.

“I think yer cheatin’,” Andy shot back.

“Or yer just a sore loser,” Logan smiled.

“Is Andy hurt? I’ve got some ideas for a hot-stone massage that might help,” Unsuur interjected.

Justice pinched the bridge of his nose. “Unsuur, that means he doesn’t take losing well.”

“Oh?” Unsuur paused. “Well, wouldn’t it be easier just to say he isn’t that good at critters?”

Logan snorted, bringing a hand to his mouth to hide the grin spreading across his face.

Andy bit his lip. His competitive side was ready to throw down over a card game, but his heart told him Unsuur meant no harm.

Justice was about to deal another round when Qi strode in, a commission list in hand.

“Gentlemen,” he said. “I have a list of things that need gathering from the—are you playing cards?”

Logan, Andy, Justice, and Unsuur exchanged guilty glances. It seemed they’d been caught red-handed. And the townsfolk probably wouldn’t be too pleased to know their tax gols were paying hourly wages for a game of critters.

Justice swept the cards together and tossed them aside. “Don’t worry ’bout it, partner. What did you need?”

“Most of the materials can be found in the Shipwreck Ruins,” Qi replied, handing the list to Andy. “I’ve noted the required quantities beside each item.”

Andy studied it: compact motors, microchips, power stones, and old parts. Just the sort of haul the ruins might still yield.

“Reckon Logan and I can fetch these for you, Director,” Andy said, stuffing the list into his pocket and standing.

Justice and Unsuur rose too, their stools squealing as they slid back.

“Hold up now. Why don’t we all go?” Justice suggested. “There’s plenty on that list for everyone. Be easier if we do it together.”

Andy glanced at Logan, weighing the offer. His training had always been one-on-one with Logan, but extra hands against the shipwreck’s rusted robots sounded too good to be refused.

“Reckon that’ll work,” Logan agreed. “Let’s get on out there, then.”

They headed for the door, leaving Captain behind on his perch.

“Meow?” he called.

“Captain, hold down the fort, will ya? We’ll be back soon.”

With a dignified nod, Captain hopped down and settled into Justice’s office chair, ready for duty.

The wind at their backs and the high desert sun above them, Logan, Justice, Andy, and Unsuur rode their mounts across the tracks toward the Shipwreck Ruins.

Logan took point, as he always did on the hunt. The veteran monster hunter had honed his skills enough to spot everything from the tiniest grains of sand brushing across the dunes to the largest creature on the horizon. And his hearing was famously attuned to the environment around them.

Justice rode second, covering the blind spots Logan could not see. Though his senses weren’t quite as sharp, he remained one of the best trackers in the Corps.

Andy rode just behind them. Logan and Justice thought it best to keep him in the middle in case something struck from the front, while Unsuur brought up the rear, ready to provide cover and warning if needed.

Their formation looked formidable. But their conversation? Not so much.

“Reckon we oughta get a new name for ourselves,” Justice said. “Sandrock Super Squad never took off when we were with the Builder. What about... Sandrock Heavy Intensity Team?”

Andy stifled a laugh.

Logan glanced back at his son, wondering why he was holding it in.

“Sir…” Unsuur started, tilting his head. “Would that mean our team is the shi—?”

Justice’s eyes went wide. “Now hold on!”

“You kiss yer mother with that mouth, deputy?” Andy teased.

“My mother isn’t here,” Unsuur replied plainly. “But if she was, I wouldn’t mind a kiss. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.”

Andy and Justice both cracked up. Logan, however, was less amused.

Watching out for one person was enough trouble. But now he had to keep an eye on three? His nerves were already starting to fray.

“Justice,” Logan groaned. “We really doin’ this again?”

“Well, we could always go with my original suggestion which was ‘No-Fun Logans.’ Doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue, though.”

“I like that one,” Andy chimed in.

“What? That I ain’t fun?” Logan asked, clearly offended.

“Yeah,” Andy said, grinning sheepishly.

“I’ll show you fun,” Logan muttered, tearing off in a cloud of dust toward the ruins. “Y’all don’t hold back, ya hear?”

Andy gripped the bar of his saddle tight and nudged Waylon into a steady canter, the goat’s hooves kicking up sand as they ran after Rambo.

Waylon was determined not to lose. He had a gleam in his eye as he spotted a large rock. It was the perfect jump to catapult them into first place. He jerked his head toward it, and Andy caught the signal right away. A simple rock jump? That was child’s play for these two.

“Alright, boy. Let’s do it!” Andy shouted, pulling the bar in the direction of the outcrop.

Justice and Unsuur? Well, their mounts — Truth and Boulder — never stood a chance against the hunters’ goats. They stayed neck and neck, bringing up third and fourth.

“You know, Unsuur… it’d be real unfortunate if you beat me and it came time for performance reviews,” Justice teased, a grin tugging at his lips.

“Off the record, sir?” Unsuur replied without missing a beat. “I don’t plan on losing to you. So you best just giddy up now.”

Logan was just about to reach the base of the ruins when Waylon came out of nowhere, soaring through the air like he had wings.

Logan froze, jaw slack. He’d never seen anything like it. Pure amazement crossed his face.

The goat landed near the ladder in a shower of sand and gravel, skidding to a dramatic stop before rearing up with full show-pony flair. Waylon knew he’d claimed victory—loud, proud, and maybe just a little smug about it.

Up top, Andy straightened in the saddle, grinning as he tossed his hat into the air.

Justice and Unsuur arrived on the scene shortly after, watching as Waylon made a full meal out of his win. Seemed their horses just couldn’t compete with the goats the monster hunters rode.

Justice dismounted and headed for the ladder that provided entry to the Shipwreck Ruins.

“Let’s get on in there then. Supplies ain’t gonna collect themselves,” he said, climbing up the rungs with ease.

Logan gestured for Andy and Unsuur to go up first, placing himself in the rear — the most vulnerable spot. If anything were to happen, better it be him than all three of them. Sandrock couldn’t afford to lose both the Civil Corps and a monster hunter today.

Justice reached the top and slowly began turning the wheeled handle that stood between them and whatever dangers waited behind it.

“Weapons ready?” Justice asked.

Andy grabbed his daggers. Logan drew his revolver. Unsuur pulled the long sword from behind his back.

They all nodded.

And with that, Justice opened the door.

“We can get most of these parts from the old-world robots here,” Logan said, scanning the area around them.

The ruins had held up well over the years. Sure, they were more rusted, and that open-air sea smell had grown stronger, but the place was still intact. That just meant that the commissions could keep on coming.

The first room they entered had four giant glass holding tubes, all cracked and empty. Grates beneath their boots hissed out steam, adding a thick humidity to the air. The metal walls looked more corroded than they had during their first exploration.

The group descended a short staircase, passing crates and old-world tech scattered around.

“Let’s smash up these crates and start tearin’ out components from the machines,” Andy said, already taking swipes at the nearest pile.

“Good idea, kid,” Justice agreed, ducking down to open a compartment on one of the tubes and pulling out some microchips.

Unsuur poked through a junk pile in the corner.

Logan kept watch while the others worked. His hand rested near his holster, and his eyes stayed sharp. He couldn’t shake that familiar itch.

Something was watching them.

“This might be easier to sift through if I had a vacuum,” Unsuur muttered. “Ah! Here’s one.”

He reached into the pile and grabbed something that looked like a busted-up old-world vacuum.

“This thing is stuck,” he said, yanking at it.

Logan turned to look and his stomach dropped.

Orange lights blinked to life. A control panel sparked. A familiar blue casing gleamed beneath the dust.

“Unsuur! Get back!” Logan barked.

The Clean-O-Bot whirred awake with a furious screech, swinging its arm toward Unsuur.

But Logan was faster.

He launched forward, grabbed Unsuur by the back of his shirt, and jerked him out of the way just as the bot's arm slammed into the floor.

When the arm slammed into the floor, Logan moved quickly. He fired off a quick shot, blasting the bot’s limb clean off, then lunged forward and drove his dagger straight into one of its glowing glass eyes.

The machine shrieked, sparks flying as it gave one last sputter of light—then went still. Powered down for good.

“Thanks, Logan,” Unsuur said, brushing himself off.

“No problem, partner. Let’s keep on then,” Logan replied, already heading toward the door that led to the next section of the ruins.

In the next room, there was a rickety old platform that stood between the boys and their next destination. A subtle creaking could be heard as they stepped forward.

Andy looked around, searching for an alternative path. There was none, and the drop—though not too bad—could still injure someone.

“It’s the only way across,” Andy said, stepping forward to be the first to cross.

Logan threw his arm out, stopping his son in his tracks. “Don’t. I’ll go first.”

“I’ll be fine, Logan.”

“Andy, I ain’t budgin’ on this. I’m goin’.”

Andy sighed. “Fine.”

Logan stepped onto the platform, each step careful and deliberate. The structure groaned beneath his weight. He was about halfway across when the sheeting below him gave out under one boot, but he caught himself before finishing the rest of the way across.

“See how I stepped across? Follow that exact pattern,” he called back to the group.

Justice and Unsuur followed the steps Logan had taken. They managed to cross without issue.

All that was left was Andy.

He stepped onto the platform, confident. The others had made it—surely he would too. He was lighter on his feet than Justice or Logan, and his balance had never failed him before.

Logan watched, his heart in his throat, trying to stay calm as his eyes tracked every move Andy made.

That was why the sound hit him so hard—the sharp grind of metal, the sudden snap beneath his son’s boots.

“ANDY!” Logan yelled, diving toward the collapsing platform and throwing out his hand.

Their fingers barely brushed before Andy vanished, crashing down to the level below in a storm of broken steel and dust.

Logan lay there, chest heaving against the cool metal, eyes scanning frantically for any sign of Andy.

“ANDY!” he called again, voice raw with panic. “Can you hear me?”

“Logan, you need to focus,” Justice said, stepping up beside him. “We gotta get down there.”

Logan was seeing red, just about ready to bite back—until the faint sound of coughing and shifting steel echoed from below.

As he fell, Andy could hear Logan shouting from above. It was angry, panicked even. His Pa was probably losing his mind watching everything unfold.

Thud.

Andy hit the floor hard.

He lay still for a moment, eyes tracking the last pieces of the platform as they clattered down around him. Each one rang out with a sharp clang of metal on metal. His breath came short, chest tight with adrenaline and impact. He’d been so confident — too confident — thinking nothing could go wrong.

Luckily, nothing felt broken. But a sharp ache was already setting in, and he could tell he’d be wearing a few bruises after this.

He shook his head, flinging aside the dust-caked strands of hair that had fallen into his eyes, then pushed off the floor. The movement kicked up more dust, sending him into a fit of coughing.

“I’m okay!” Andy called, his voice cracking in the dry air.

“Let’s plan to meet back at the entrance. Just keep movin’, okay?” Logan’s voice echoed down to him.

“Keep movin’, got it. I can handle th—”

He stopped short.

Something moved in the corner of his vision. Not sudden, not fast, but enough to pull his attention.

Andy’s hand dropped to his dagger.

He rose slowly, eyes locked on the figure approaching from the shadows.

A quiet shuffle.

A low snort.

Then, stepping into the light...

A Pensky .

“Oh hey, buddy. Reckon you wouldn’t know a fast way outta here, would ya?” Andy said, eyeing the little creature.

The Pensky just stood there, staring into the distance, tongue flopping lazily out the side of its mouth.

“Lights are on, but ain’t nobody home, huh little guy?” Andy chuckled.

At that, the Pensky blinked slowly, then pulled its tongue back into its mouth. It squinted at Andy — clearly offended, as if it understood the insult.

“Whoa, hey now,” Andy said, holding up his hands. “Didn’t mean nothin’ by it.”

The Pensky turned its back on him and, with deliberate sass, rolled out a red-painted barrel marked with a flame. Explosives.

“Oh come on... seriously?”

The little beast started stomping on the barrel, trying to get it to spark.

Andy didn’t wait around to see how that was gonna end. He grabbed his hat, scooped up the parts he’d collected, and hightailed it down the next corridor—boots thudding, breath sharp.

Behind him, the explosion went off.

Shrapnel and scrap flew through the air, a few pieces nearly impaling him but Andy was fast, weaving through the chaos with sharp instincts and even sharper reflexes.

Once he entered the next room, he leaned up against the wall to catch his breath.

“Next time, I won’t say anything if Logan wants to eat one of those,” he huffed.

The room he’d landed in looked like an old game center. It was something that reminded him of Catori’s place.

There were multiple gaming machines scattered across the space, dusty and half-sunken into rust. Andy peered around them, making sure he was actually alone.

He was—for now, at least.

Just as he was about to move on, something sparkling in a pile of junk caught his eye. He approached, brushing away layers of dirt and trash.

It was a diamond.

Logan, Justice, and Unsuur pushed forward, continuing the path along more platforms and into an area that looked like the headquarters of the place.

Unsuur and Justice spread out, looking for the rest of the items on Qi’s list, while Logan stood watch at the entrance of the room.

His chest was still tight, though his breathing had returned to normal.

Dammit.

He could have gotten Andy injured or worse, killed.

Logan took his hat off and pushed the hair back from his face. Anything touching him right now was liable to get hurt.

He was mad. Not just mad—furious with himself for making such a big deal out of going first. He should’ve gone last. Andy had never really been on his own for long before. He was still just a kid…

Logan took a deep breath and set his hat back on his head.

Andy wasn’t a kid anymore and he needed to get that through his head. He’d held his own against those bandirats until Logan showed up. He’d made a canyon jump straight out of a storybook. And most importantly… he’d fallen in love.

No. Andy wasn’t a kid anymore.

And every damn day, he was proving to Logan that he could handle whatever life threw at him. Though a small part of Logan wanted to deny it—hide that truth away where the world couldn’t touch it—he knew Andy would be just fine.

He’d be back at the entrance soon enough. Right where he was meant to be.

“Ready to head out of here, partner?” Justice asked, pulling Logan from his thoughts.

“I reckon I am,” Logan replied.

“Guys! They’ve got some cool rocks over here—I found a diamond!” Unsuur called out.

Logan just smiled. Unsuur was a welcome distraction from the thoughts that had been weighing on him.

“Howdy, fellers! What took ya so long?” Andy teased, leaning against the entrance of the Shipwreck Ruins.

Logan didn’t even respond. He just rushed forward and pulled Andy into a tight hug.

Seeing him— holding him—was enough to loosen that tight knot that’d been twisting in his chest. He knew Andy could handle this. He’d always known it, deep down. But watching him fall… being too far to reach him when it counted? That part still hurt like hell.

“Pa?” Andy asked, clearly confused.

Logan stepped back and looked at him—not the boy he’d picked up in the wilds all those years ago, but the man now standing in front of him. Capable. Strong.

“Sorry,” Logan said, his voice rough. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Ran into a Pensky with a death wish, though.”

“What?” Justice asked, eyebrows raised.

“It can happen. I’m surprised you did. They’re incredibly rare,” Unsuur added, eyes narrowing in thought.

Logan just shook his head, thankful the day had gone as well as it had.

“C’mon, what do y’all say we go tie one off?” he suggested.

“Sounds like a mighty fine plan, partner. Let’s roll out,” Justice agreed.

“Howdy, boys!” Grace called from behind the counter. “What can I get ya tonight?”

Logan stepped up to the bar and leaned against it, holding up two fingers. “Give us two shots of whiskey.”

Grace ducked down, came back up with a bottle, and poured out two shot glasses. 

Andy slid in beside Logan, mirroring his posture against the bar.

Once the glasses were full, Grace slid them across the counter. Logan caught both, pushed one toward Andy, then threw his back without hesitation.

Andy followed suit, but his didn’t go down near as smooth. The burn hit his throat like desert wind, and he slammed the glass down with a cough.

“First one’s always rough. You’ll get used to it,” Logan said with a chuckle, nodding to Grace for a refill.

Justice and Unsuur, seated nearby, watched the two yakboys take their shots while they each sipped something bright yellow.

“Hey, what they got over there?” Andy asked, eyeing their drinks.

Justice lifted his glass and gave it a tilt. “Reckon it’s called a Sandrock Beauty or somethin’. Starts out spicy, then turns sweet. Kinda like the women ‘round here.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Logan grinned, knocking back another shot.

“Here—try it, Andy.” 

Justice slid the glass over to him.

Andy took a sip. The chili-rimmed edge hit first, bitter and hot, but the drink itself followed smooth. A sweet lemon flavor and just a little fizz. He polished it off with ease.

“That tastes way better than that shot you gave me, Logan.”

“It’s an acquired taste,” Logan smirked. “But by all means—drink yer girly drinks with the Civil Corps boys.”

Justice and Unsuur looked to one another.

“What do you mean by that?” Justice asked, almost insulted. “We ain’t drinkin’ girly drinks. These are perfectly respectable for an officer off duty.”

“Sure, partner. Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Logan teased.

Justice set his drink down with a thud.

“Alright, how about this. For every shot of whiskey you take, I’ll drink two of these Beauties. First one to give up has to make a public service announcement—saying who’s better: the Civil Corps or the Monster Hunting Guild.”

Andy and Unsuur exchanged a look, both glancing toward the veterans before them as they were gearing up for a good old-fashioned drink-off.

“Line ’em up and let’s knock ’em back,” Logan said, motioning for Grace to start pouring.

First Round

Logan threw his shot back with no hesitation, the warm liquor sliding down his throat with a familiar burn. It was oddly soothing.

It’d been a long day. Watching Andy fall and then watching him get back up again? That was a lot for any Pa to take in. Accepting Justice’s challenge was just the thing he needed to clear his head.

Justice followed suit, tossing back both of his drinks. The chili from the rim nipped at his lips and stung his eyes a little.

He squinted over at Logan, who looked entirely too confident. Logan had nearly bested him in every sparring match they'd ever had—but this? This was his arena tonight. He'd win this showdown, even if he had to turn himself into a drunk fool to do it.

Round Five

Logan swirled the drink in his glass before downing it in one go.

He was doing good. The buzz had settled in—warm and low—but not enough to stop him. Not yet.

Justice double-fisted his two drinks and knocked them back one at a time. His vision blurred at the edges, and the stool under him started to feel just a tad unstable. But like Logan, he wasn’t about to throw in the towel.

Not until somebody hit the floor.

Andy and Unsuur? They’d settled into a booth just behind their partners, watching the slow burn unfold like they had front-row seats to a fireworks show.

“It’s only a matter of time,” Andy muttered, taking a slow sip of water as he watched the two veterans square up for the next round.

“Should we step in?” Unsuur asked, eyes narrowing as Logan slapped the bar and let out a low “Wooo!”

“Not yet, partner,” Andy said, shaking his head with a small smirk. “Just gotta wait this one out, I think.”

Round Eight

“Lookin’ a little wet there, sheriff,” Logan slurred, pointing a finger at the two blurry Justices wobbling across from him.

“You’re one to talk, you stupid horn-hat-wearin’ yakboy,” Justice hiccuped. “I’m still good for a while yet.”

“Oh yeah?” Logan stammered, swaying slightly. “C’mon here and show me, then.”

The two of them each shoved away from the counter, staggering toward the other with fists half-clenched and pride fully bruised—both clearly ready to start trading blows.

“Oh no! Not on my shift!” Grace hollered. “Take it outside!”

Logan and Justice, surprisingly obedient despite their wobble-legged states, turned and stumbled toward the saloon doors.

Andy and Unsuur exchanged a look once more, sighed, and followed them out into the street.

Logan and Justice stood nearly a foot apart, tension thick in the air as they squared up, ready to start trading licks.

“Do y’all really need to do this?” Andy asked, exasperated. “It’s late, Pa… Ma’s gonna be worried we ain’t home yet.”

“Nonsense,” Logan slurred. “This is a serious matter. Gotta show ol’ Justice here who’s the best ‘round in town.”

“Sir? We’ve got a meeting with Trudy in the morning,” Unsuur added, stepping in and lowering his voice. “It won’t look good if you’re not rested.”

“Nope, no way, partner,” Justice replied, shaking him off. “Gotta show this yakboy what’s good.”

He arched his arm back dramatically, winding up for the punch of the century.

Logan squinted, jaw clenched, ready for impact.

Justice’s arm shot forward with all the drunken power he could muster…

…and whiffed right past Logan’s face.

All that momentum carried him forward—and Justice?

Well… let’s just say every ounce of strength he’d put into that punch went with him as he tumbled face-first into the street.

Logan doubled over in sharp laughter. Then dropped to the ground beside him, the two of them cackling like a pair of Rockyenarolls.

Andy and Unsuur sighed, both clearly unimpressed and feeling defeated.

Andy stepped forward and offered Logan a hand, helping him to his feet and letting him lean on him as they started the slow walk home.

Unsuur, though smaller than Justice, managed to hoist the man up and swing him over the back of Boulder. Once both were saddled and headed back toward the Civil Corps office, Unsuur kept a steady pace, if not a quiet one.

When they arrived, Justice groaned, leaned to the side and promptly tumbled off Boulder.

Then came the real show: he proceeded to blow chunks all over the front steps.

Unsuur let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Sometimes… being second in command wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

Logan was whistling—off-key and loud—as Andy guided him through the door. The house was dark and quiet.

That is, until the door clicked shut behind them.

A smaller figure emerged from the hallway outside the master bedroom, arms crossed and backlit by the low lamp glow.

“Where have you two been?” Ma asked, her hands planted firmly on her hips.

“DARLIN’!” Logan hollered, immediately breaking free of Andy’s grasp and stumbling toward his wife like a love-struck outlaw. He wrapped her up in a clumsy hug, nearly toppling her over.

“Yer turn. I’m headin’ to bed,” Andy muttered, brushing past them and disappearing up the stairs.

He’d had enough adventure and enough parent-wrangling for one evening.

The Builder held her husband steady for a moment before easing him gently to the floor.

“Yer the best wife, y’know that?” Logan whispered, eyes glassy. “And just… so pretty, even when yer disappointed in me.”

She let out a soft chuckle and placed a kiss on his forehead. “Goodnight, Logan.”

“G’night, love,” he mumbled, already settling into the floor like it was the coziest bed in Sandrock.

A few moments later, the Builder returned with a blanket and pillow, only to find her husband curled up and snoring softly.

Chapter Text

Chapter 19 - New for You, Old for Me

The frost that had built up on Andy’s window wasn’t enough to block the morning sunlight, which slipped through and caught the diamond sitting on his desk. He’d placed it there just before turning in for the night.

It hit his eyes just right, and he stirred. Blinking away the sleep and letting out a short huff of air. It was a fine piece of stone, especially considering where he’d found it.

He kept staring at it, thinking about Jasmine.

How he’d like to get it set into a ring for her.

How it might look on her hand.

How it might catch the light in her eyes when she looked at it.

Andy sat up, stretched, and walked over to the desk. His hands moved like they’d done a hundred times before. He grabbed a pencil, flipped to a clean page in his sketchbook, and started to draw.

He’d crafted two weapons now, each with dozens of drafts beforehand. How hard could it be to craft an engagement ring?

The cut. The band. The setting.

It was instinct. Familiar. Natural.

Then he stopped.

Should he really be thinking about this now?

He couldn’t dream about forever if he didn’t even have a place for them to live. Well, not one that didn’t already have other occupants.

Sure, his family—and probably even Trudy—would be more than happy to let them stay a while. But no girl wanted to live with her in-laws. He wouldn’t want that either. It just didn’t feel right.

That’s when the idea hit him.

Logan’s old place.

It might’ve been a bit of a bachelor pad, but it was solid. Close to home. Big enough for two. It could be the perfect starter home, at least until they wanted something more. And even then it’s not like the family was short on hands or blueprints for yet another construction project.

But he was getting ahead of himself. He needed to focus on Logan’s old place first.

Andy tapped the pencil to his lips, eyes narrowing.

This could work.

He just had to figure out how to pitch it to his parents, to get them on board with the idea. He didn’t think it would be a problem, not really… but part of him still worried about what Ma and Logan would say. Especially with him wanting to move out so soon. It still felt like he’d just graduated.

The smell of pancakes drifted in from downstairs, warm and familiar, pulling him from his thoughts.

Now was as good a time as any.

Andy jumped up from his chair and practically flew down the stairs.

Eyes focused. Stomach grumbling.

He was just about to reach the kitchen when his foot caught on something solid and very much unmoving. He didn’t even see it until it was too late.

With a thud, he hit the floor.

Groaning, he pushed himself up and turned to see what had tripped him.

He sighed.

“You slept on the floor?”

“Leave me alone,” Logan croaked, dragging his blanket tighter around himself like a burrito of regret.

“Yer gonna miss breakfast then.”

“Shh…” Logan mumbled, turning his back to Andy.

Andy brushed himself off and continued into the kitchen.

“You got past the roadblock,” Ma teased. “Take a seat and I’ll get you something.”

Andy nodded and slid into his usual spot—right between Gem and Junior.

“Ma? What’s going on with Pa?” Gem asked, pushing her plate toward Andy so he could cut it into smaller pieces. “I tried to wake him up for your pancakes, and I got nothing.”

“Reckon you were a little more gentle than I was about it,” Andy replied, slicing her pancakes neatly before sliding the plate back to her.

Junior watched this closely, then shoved his own plate in Andy’s direction, expecting the same treatment.

Andy shot him a look— not happening.

Junior shrugged. “Worth a shot. So who won between Justice and Pa anyway? I heard all the ruckus last night.”

Ma turned away from the stove and took a deep breath.

“That’s enough. I’m sure he’ll be joining us shortly. Just finish your breakfast. You two have school today,” she said, pointing her spatula at the younger ones before plating Andy’s food.

“You can tell me later, Andy. Betcha it was totally Pa,” Junior whispered, leaning close with a mouth full of food.

But Ma heard it. Ma heard everything .

“Junior! I said enough,” she snapped, without even turning around.

“Welp, that’s my cue. C’mon, Gem! We’re gonna be late,” Junior said, grabbing his sister’s hand and dragging her toward the front door.

Ma set a plate down in front of Andy, then took the chair beside him, shaking her head.

Howlett Junior was a good boy when he wanted to be. But there was no doubt Logan’s blood ran thick in that one. Hell on wheels didn’t even begin to describe him, and Peach only knew what kind of trouble he’d get into once he was older.

“Thanks, Ma. These look great,” Andy said, already tearing into the stack.

The Builder smiled as she watched her son, taking a moment to soak in the peaceful quiet between them.

She cherished these mornings with Andy—just the two of them, sharing space, no rush, no noise. They had something special. Ma was always in his corner. And Andy? He was the piece of her she never knew she needed. He kept her grounded.

“Did you have anything on the agenda today?” she asked gently.

Andy took a moment to collect himself, wiping a drip of syrup from his chin with a napkin.

“Actually…” he started, voice a little lower now. “There’s somethin’ I wanted to run past ya.”

“Go ahead,” she said, setting her mug down. “I’m all ears.”

Andy knew he could talk to his Ma about anything.

She never judged. Never made a fuss. And when it wasn’t a monster problem—but a heart or head kind of thing—she was always his go-to. Smart, kind, steady. She was an open book. Not just to her family, but to anyone who needed a page.

“Morning,” Logan groaned, rubbing his temples as he shuffled into the kitchen. “That floor’s still better than any night out in the wilds.”

He glanced at his wife and son—still half in a fog—but even through the haze, he could tell he’d just stepped into something important. So he pulled up a chair and made himself comfy.

“Hold that thought, Andy,” Ma said, shifting her attention to her very hungover husband. “Nice of you to join us this morning.”

She stood and poured a fresh mug of cocoa, taking a moment to add just a pinch of salt—just the way he liked it.

“Thank ya, darlin’,” Logan murmured, accepting it gratefully. “Reckon we oughta keep a pot of this goin’ ‘round the clock. It’s startin’ to get cold out there. Winter’ll be here soon.”

Ma returned to her seat and took a sip of her own cup. 

“Now... what were you about to say, Andy?”

Andy hesitated, then looked between them. Here went nothing. 

“How do y’all feel about me movin’ out?”

Logan choked on his cocoa, sputtering as he set the mug down hard and turned to his wife.

Andy? Moving out? What in the world had brought that on?

Logan was just now coming around to the idea of his son growing up. And while he was amazed at his progress. Was Andy really ready to strike out on his own? What was he getting at?

And Ma? Logan knew this would hit her hard. She thrived with all the kids at home. Even if she didn’t show it, Andy leaving would affect her deeply.

Across the table, Ma blinked, surprised, and slowly set her cup down too.

Andy wanting to leave... it wasn’t something they’d talked about much. She knew the day would come, of course. She just didn’t expect it to be now . But she couldn’t let it show. Not yet.

Andy was making a reasonable request. And he deserved to be heard.

A long silence settled between them, thick in the air. No one seemed sure where to start.

“You wanna move out already?” Ma asked, her voice soft with uncertainty.

Andy’s chest tightened. “I just thought… you know, Logan’s place is just sittin’ there. And maybe I could move in. You guys already got your hands full with Junior and Gem…”

“Alright,” Logan cut in, eyes narrowing just a touch. “Now give me the real reason.”

He knew his boy too well. That answer had come out too fast, too flat. There was more to it. He could see it in Andy’s eyes.

Andy rubbed the back of his neck, gaze drifting toward the floor… and in his mind, to the diamond still sitting on his desk.

Jasmine.

She meant everything to him. He just wanted to do right by her. To make her happy. Build a good life together.

Ma watched her son start to spiral. His eyes unfocused, his breath shallow. She reached out and gently squeezed his shoulder.

It was enough. Just enough to bring him back.

“Andy?”

“Jasmine,” he admitted. “I wanna do right by her. I found a diamond in the ruins yesterday, and it got me thinkin’… I can’t marry her if I don’t even have a place for us to live.”

“That makes sense,” Ma said softly, offering a smile.

She was trying to show her support, even though the idea of Andy leaving the house twisted at something deep in her chest. It worried her, if she was being honest. But she couldn’t let that show.

Logan nodded, quiet as he mulled it over. Andy was right. His old place was just sitting there, gathering dust. And what better way to support his son than to hand over the keys and let him start carving out his own life?

Sure, there might be a few cobwebs—maybe more than a few—and a whole lot of dust… but it wasn’t monster hunting. It was a home. A start.

“We could work somethin’ out, partner,” Logan said. “We’ll need to take a look at the place first. Ain’t been there in a while. Might need a woman’s touch before Jasmine sets foot in it, though.” He chuckled, taking another sip of cocoa. “Bet yer momma’ll help if you ask real nice.”

Andy glanced at Ma, who was already smiling proudly.

“Sure,” she said, setting her mug down once more before getting up from the table. “Let’s go take a look. I’m still waiting on the machines to finish up some of Jasmine’s parts anyway.”

“Everything looks to be in shape structurally. Might need a fresh coat of paint, but I’d say a good cleaning is due first,” Ma said, swiping her finger along the dusty counter.

“I can handle the cleanin’,” Andy replied. “Reckon I’ll need some help with the other stuff once we get to that part. Wasn’t expectin’ this to be a quick process.”

Logan glanced around the old place he used to call home. Part of him wanted to let the nostalgia settle in—remember the quiet nights, the early mornings, the way life used to be. But he knew this place was about to change. It was going to mean something new now. For Andy.

“I could help you clean it up, if you want,” Logan offered, crossing the room toward the old closet where he kept his brooms and feather dusters. “That can be our mission today, partner.”

“Thanks, Pa,” Andy said, taking a broom from him. “Kinda reminds me of when Ma helped us clean it out when we first moved back into town.”

“I did have some motivation,” Ma teased, smirking over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of her yakboy.

“Oh yeah? Reckon you wanna share what that was, darlin’?” Logan drawled, reading her like a book.

A subtle smirk tugged at the corner of Ma’s lips as she met his gaze.

“Someone had to clean it up and make it shine.”

“The house, right?”

“Sure, honey. The house for sure,” Ma replied dryly.

“I’m standin’ right here, you two. Less flirtin’, more cleanin’,” Andy cut in, deadpan.

The Builder grabbed a duster and headed toward the door, brushing off cabinets that hadn’t seen a rag in years. She pulled out a few old books, a couple of dusty picture frames, and then paused.

Tucked behind a stack of manuals was something heavier. She reached in, brushed it off, and held it up to the light.

It was an old pistol—weathered, but solid. Still in good condition. She ran her thumb along the worn grip and smiled softly.

She held it up and showed it to Logan.

“Reckon that’d be my Pa’s revolver.”

Andy looked up from where he was sweeping. “What’d you find?”

She walked over and handed it to him, grip-first. “Howlett’s old sidearm.”

Andy turned it over in his hands, reverent. It wasn’t flashy—just clean, dependable, and worn with use. A weapon with history.

Logan stepped beside them, watching his boy hold the past in his hands.

He was about to hand over the keys to this place. Why not a little housewarming gift too? Something that could remind Andy of where he came from, as he started building toward where he was headed.

“I think it oughta be yours now,” he said. “Might be a little outdated, but it’s a good piece. And it’s part of you.”

Andy nodded, voice low. “Thanks, Pa. I’ll take good care of it.”

The quiet family moment was interrupted by a gentle knock at the front door.

“You two look it over. I’ll get the door,” Ma said, wiping her hands on her pants as she stepped over.

She cracked it open just enough to peek outside.

A familiar figure stood there, dust on her clothes, a smudge of dirt across her nose.

“Hiya, Builder!” Jasmine beamed, brushing herself off. “Heidi and I saw you guys come in while we were over at the construction site. Thought we’d drop by and see what all the fuss was about.”

Ma glanced back at Andy and Logan. Andy looked like he’d just swallowed his own tongue—eyes wide, caught completely off guard. He didn't want to tip Jasmine off about what he had planned.

Ma caught it instantly.

“Logan and Andy were looking for some of Howlett’s old hunting gear,” she said smoothly. “Figured if it wasn’t at the homestead, it had to be here.”

Logan gave Andy a subtle nudge. “She’s got it. Don’t worry ’bout it.”

Andy took a breath and relaxed, the tension easing from his shoulders.

“That makes sense,” Jasmine nodded.

Ma smiled, already turning toward the door. “Tell you what, girls—why don’t I grab my things and we head over to the Blue Moon? We can talk more about the publishing house. I think the boys can handle a little cleaning, can’t you?”

Andy nodded, trying to recover. “Yeah, we sure can. Reckon we’ll catch up later, sweetheart?”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Jasmine said with a grin.

Andy’s face flushed crimson. He suddenly had enough heat in his cheeks to smelt a hundred bars of iron. All Jasmine had to do was smile and he was gone.

Logan rolled his eyes. And his son was complaining about him and Ma flirting earlier? Now here he was, looking like a love-struck pup. Oh, Logan wasn’t gonna let that one slide.

“See you later, boys,” Ma said, ushering the girls out the door, but not before turning back to catch Andy mouthing a quick, heartfelt thank you.

Once the door clicked shut, Logan leaned back against the counter and grinned.

“Don’t know if yer ready to have your own gun yet, Andy. You still get flustered every time that girl looks at you.”

Andy rolled his eyes. “Don’t even start. Ma snaps her fingers and yer bent over backwards askin’ what else she needs.”

Logan chuckled, low and proud. “Just means we’re good men then.”

“Guess so,” Andy said with a small smile, setting the pistol down and replacing it with the broom.

“Then he comes out covered in flour!” Jasmine laughed, holding her stomach as tears formed in the corners of her eyes.

“That explains why those clothes needed to be washed separately that night,” Ma said, shaking her head with a grin.

She, Jasmine, and Heidi were tucked into a booth at the Blue Moon, sipping and snacking the afternoon away. They’d ordered a spread—some familiar favorites, some new creations. Whatever Owen felt like tossing their way, they welcomed it.

“Your life’ll never be boring with that one,” Heidi said, lifting a spoonful of soup to her lips. “I’d hold onto him, Jasmine.”

“I’m trying,” Jasmine replied. “It’s hard to hang on when he’s off saving the day all the time. But hey, I’ll have some great material for my articles.”

The Builder smiled, listening to the two girls talk about her boy. It made her heart swell.

Andy had come a long way from that wild little bandit with a heart of gold. Now he was becoming the kind of man who earned his place—working hard, loving deeply, and choosing to grow.

She only hoped she’d played some small part in shaping the boy who was now preparing to take his next step.

And while part of her was proud—so proud—another part of her ached just a little. Knowing he wouldn’t be coming down the stairs for breakfast anymore? That stung more than she wanted to admit.

Sure, he’d only be five minutes away. She could be at his door in under two if she needed to. But still… it wasn’t quite the same.

“You okay?” Jasmine asked gently, reaching across the table to touch Ma’s hand.

The Builder blinked, pulling herself from the fog of her thoughts.

“I’m fine, honey. Thank you,” she said, offering a warm smile.

Andy needed her to be the distraction and she was ready to play her part.

“Let’s get down to it then, shall we?” Heidi said, pulling out a rolled-up set of blueprints and spreading them across the table. “I’m thinking we utilize the porch as it is—maybe stain it to freshen it up?”

“We could get Zeke or Nia to start planting flowers for the raised beds,” Ma added. 

“What’s the timeline for the construction to be done and everything to be up and running?” Jasmine asked.

Heidi looked over at the Builder, and it was almost like they both knew the answer before it was said.

“Spring?” Ma asked.

“Spring it is!” Heidi grinned. “Now, I’m also thinking we add another entrance down below where the stairs are. That way we can use the current doorway as a back exit.”

“I could get the measurements and start working through the design for that too,” The Builder said.

The girls were so caught up in conversation they nearly missed Owen arriving with another round of dishes.

“Howdy, ladies! Got a few more items for you, if you’re interested,” he said, flashing that ever-so-handsome smile.

“Keep them coming, Uncle Owen. We’re gonna be here awhile,” Jasmine said, sliding the plates onto the table.

Ma grinned to herself.

Her mission of keeping Jasmine distracted? Mark it a success. 

“Yer probably gonna need to get some different furniture in here, too,” Logan said, eyeing a familiar old chair with its signature horned-back silhouette. “This stuff’s ‘bout the same age as you.”

“Can’t believe you actually lugged that thing back here,” Andy laughed. “Ma ‘bout had a fit when you thought about bringin’ it to the homestead.”

“Compromise, my boy. You’ll learn that real well. Especially with someone as headstrong as Jasmine is.”

Andy chuckled quietly, the sound warm and low, as he crouched to check under the old bed.

He pulled out a picture frame. It was dusty, but intact.

It was from a month or so after Logan and Haru had picked him up out in the wilds. The three of them, grinning like fools beside a campfire. Andy studied it, remembering the feeling of being lost and then suddenly… found.

He didn’t remember much about his life before that. Who his parents were. Whether he had any siblings. It all felt so distant now, like pages from someone else’s story.

Sometimes he felt ashamed—like forgetting meant betraying the people who brought him into this world. But he’d been so young. And time had a way of washing things away, no matter how hard you tried to hold on.

Maybe it was something he’d never fully reconcile.

But now, standing on the edge of building a family of his own, holding a photo of the moment his life really started… it struck a chord.

One that hadn’t been strummed in a long, long time.

“Logan…” Andy said, thumbing the edge of the picture frame in his hand.

“Whatcha got there?” Logan asked, stepping over and easing down beside him on the floor.

He took the frame gently from Andy and looked it over, a smile creeping onto his face as the memory came rushing back.

“Hey, this is a good one,” he said, eyes scanning the image like he was right back at that campfire. “We look like a bunch of mean ol’ bandits, don’t we?”

Andy turned away for a moment, giving Logan space to take it in—but Logan didn’t miss the distance in his son’s posture.

He set the frame down and slid an arm around Andy’s shoulder, steady as ever.

“Lay it on me, partner.”

Andy sighed and leaned into him. “Should I feel bad for not rememberin’ my parents? Or really anythin’ about my life before you and Ma?”

Logan bit his lip, knowing this wasn’t the kind of question you answered quick or easy.

Andy had grown into a good man—solid, dependable, with a big heart—and Logan and the Builder had helped raise him that way. But wrestling with the past while trying to build the future? That was a hard knot to untangle.

He knew the feeling. He’d carried his own bitterness for too long, let it cut deep where no one could see. Walking around with a hole in your heart was no way to step into something new.

The Builder had helped patch that part of him back together.

And now Andy… well, he needed someone to help him do the same. Jasmine was that someone. But first? Andy needed to say this out loud. Let it out . Get right with it before stepping into anything that big.

“There’s no sense in ponderin’ somethin’ you never really knew,” Logan said gently. “I’m sure they loved you. And maybe life would’ve turned out different if nothin’ had happened to ’em.”

He paused, giving Andy’s shoulder a light squeeze.

“But if you keep hangin’ on to the what-ifs… you’re gonna miss out on what hasn’t happened yet. And let me tell ya, kid—,” Logan looked him straight in the eye. “—you got a whole lotta love to look forward to.”

Andy smiled faintly. “Reckon I wouldn’t even know what that meant if it weren’t for you and Ma, huh?”

Logan gave a firm nod, then stood and held out a hand to help his son up off the floor.

“We’re ’bout finished up here,” he said. “Let’s grab yer  pistol and head back home, partner.”

Andy hesitated, then glanced around the room.

The place was clean enough for company now, and he wondered what it might be like to spend the night alone in it. To give himself a chance to walk the place on his own, to breathe in the silence before bringing all his things in and making it official.

“I think I wanna try and stay here tonight… if that’s okay?”

Logan was a little taken aback, but he nodded.

Part of watching someone grow up was knowing when to step in and when to give them room.

“Sure. I’ll let yer momma know.”

Andy walked him to the door, watching as his father disappeared into the chill of evening… then turned back to the quiet house behind him.

He sank to the floor again, the old wood creaking beneath him.

Growing up was hard. But he wanted to do right by Jasmine. And that meant leaving the nest… and starting a new one of his own.

Logan and the Builder sat in their bedroom. She was pacing back and forth while he stayed seated on the edge of the bed.

“Darlin’, he’s gonna be just fine,” Logan said calmly. “He’s workin’ through some things… tryin’ to get ready. For Jasmine. For the future.”

His wife kept pacing. “I know, I just…”

Logan stood and caught her mid-step, wrapping her up in his arms. She sank into him, the tension in her body finally giving way as she laid her head against his chest.

Sensing her soften, Logan gently tilted her chin up and kissed her.

“If he needs us,” he murmured, looking into her eyes, “he’ll come back. It’s just for the night anyhow. That place needs fixin’ up—you saw it.”

She gave a small smile and stepped back. “I’m gonna warm up something for myself.”

“Sure, hon’.”

Down in the kitchen, she cradled her mug in both hands, eyes drifting toward the window. Her thoughts circled back to that morning.

Had that been the last time Andy would be home for a while?

She knew it was silly—he was just down the road—but the mother in her still longed for more time. More mornings. More laughter at the breakfast table.

She took her mug and moved toward the front door, thinking maybe a little porch air would help. Just as her hand touched the knob, it turned on its own and opened slowly.

Andy stood there, a soft, sheepish grin on his face.

“Hey, Ma… I think one of those windows has a draft. We’ll need to fix that. Mind if I stay here tonight?”

She let out a quiet laugh, brushing away a tear that nearly slipped free.

“Of course, baby. Come on in.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 20 - The Good, the Bad, and the Windmill Incident

“I meant to ask you ’bout this,” Andy said, handing the Trotter’s arm over to Qi for further inspection.

Qi took the piece and turned it over in his hands. The metal was in surprisingly good condition—not rusted, bent, or warped. He lifted it to eye level, peering into the barrel, searching for clues about how it fired or replenished its charge.

“Director,” Andy said cautiously, “I ain’t tryin’ to tell ya how to do yer job, but I don’t think you’re supposed to look down the barrel of a loaded gun.”

“Nonsense,” Qi replied, waving him off. “It’s not lit up inside. It should be safe to—”

A sharp blue beam suddenly fired from the chamber, zipping past Qi’s cheek and slamming into the wall with a loud thud.

Qi froze, eyes wide.

Andy let out a long sigh and glanced up at the new black scorch mark.

“Well… now that we’ve completed the inspection and an impromptu field te st,” Qi said, adjusting his coat like nothing happened, “I think we can begin drafting the components for a proper grip and trigger system.”

He pointed toward a stack of crates near the wall. “I’ve got spare parts over there. Start pulling anything that looks promising.”

Andy nodded and made his way over to the rack above the staircase. It held three shelves, each lined with four boxes. He worked his way through them, checking the labels. By the second shelf, he’d found what he needed—microchips, wiring, and a few strips of lightweight metal.

With his arms full, he returned to Qi, who was already deep in his sketchbook.

“Perfect,” Qi said, not looking up. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

The sound of metal grinding against metal and the spark of the welder filled the air. In a few short hours, the pair had finished their latest weapon.

The barrel remained polished steel, but the newly installed trigger and grip shimmered gold. Sleek and dangerous, the finished sidearm looked like something out of legend—something that would make any man or beast think twice. Its beams glowed a fierce electric blue, capable of burning through whatever they touched.

“Reckon that’ll do, Director,” Andy said, sliding the weapon into his holster. “Imma take it home, test it tomorrow. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“Ah, yes, do that. And Andy?” Qi called, just as Andy reached for the door.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t look down the barrel of it, huh?”

Andy chuckled. “Didn’t plan on it. But thanks for the reminder.”

Andy stepped into his place and gave the new weapon one last look before setting it down on the side table. He smiled, proud of himself, not just for crafting the shield and the Swipers, but now adding the plasma pistol to his growing collection. Maybe he was getting closer to building a gang of his own. And maybe, just maybe, one day he'd be ready to head out to the Peripheries.

Legacy.

He looked up at the wall where his grandfather’s pistol was now mounted. Logan had put it up as an extra housewarming gift—a reminder of where Andy came from. A piece of history, tied to the tales of Howlett, the revered hero. A man Logan had aspired to live up to… and now Andy would do the same.

An old weapon above, a new one below.

The image tugged at something deep in Andy’s chest. He’d do his best—not just to make himself proud, but the men who came before him too.

His thinking was cut short by a sudden noise upstairs, coming from the kitchen.

Andy snatched his pistol back up, instincts kicking in. Someone—or something—was in his house. He wasn’t expecting company. Nobody else had keys. And he was sure Ma and Logan were giving him space—they understood he needed time on his own.

He crept up the stairs, each step slow and quiet. When he reached the kitchen door, he placed a hand on it and pushed gently. The hinges groaned in protest.

A somewhat medium-sized figure hunched over his cabinets came into view.

“Reckon you oughta get some actual food ’round here,” Junior said, turning just in time to find himself staring down the barrel of his brother’s weapon. “Hey! Watch where you’re pointin’ that thing!”

Andy holstered the gun and gave his little brother a pointed—then confused—look.

“How’d you even get in here? Ain’t you supposed to be at school?”

“I plead the Fifth?” Junior shrugged, grabbing a box of crackers and plopping into an old wooden chair.

Andy sat down beside him, stretching out a hand. Junior passed the box over without a word.

“Reckon Ma’d like to know you skipped out on school today,” Andy said, raising a brow. “Start talkin’, or I tell her.”

“Listen… it’s just weird at home without you. I miss ya, okay?” Junior admitted, staring at the box.

“That it? You’re gonna make me blush, kid,” Andy replied, ruffling his brother’s hair.

Junior rolled his eyes and tossed another handful of crackers into his mouth. He meant it, though. Not having Andy around was rough. Sure, he could always stop by whenever he wanted to, but not having him at home was different.

Ma was busy with the construction of the publishing house. Pa was out patrolling Sandrock more often now that most monsters were holed up for the winter. And Gem? Well… one tea party was more than enough for a lifetime. Junior missed just having Andy to run into when he got home, so he figured the easiest way to fix that was to just come to his house.

“Do you wanna stay here tonight?” Andy asked, watching his brother stew.

Junior’s eyes lit up. “Can I? You really mean it?”

“Sure. I don’t got anythin’ goin’ on. And tomorrow, you can come help me test this,” Andy said, pulling the weapon out and placing it on the table between them.

Junior leaned forward, wide-eyed. He pulled the gun toward him, inspecting every inch with awe. He squinted one eye and started aiming it toward the far end of the table.

“Hey now! Careful with that,” Andy warned, jumping to his feet and swiping it away. “Already had one shot pop off today. Don’t wanna  hole in my table.”

“So cool,” Junior breathed. Then, already halfway out of his seat, he added, “Let me go grab some clothes from home and I’ll be back! Reckon you’ll have some food ready for me by then?”

“I’ll see what I can scrounge up, partner,” Andy called after him as Junior bolted for the door.

A little later, Andy swung by the Blue Moon to pick up some food. He wasn’t sure what Junior would want—and truth be told, he was starving himself—so he ordered a little bit of everything.

Owen raised a brow as the to-go boxes started piling up on the counter. “Are you feeding half of Sandrock or just really hungry tonight?”

Andy gave a sheepish grin. “Junior’s stayin’ the night. Figured I’d bring home enough to cover whatever mood he’s in.”

“Smart man,” Owen said with a chuckle, passing over the last box. “You’re all set.”

“Appreciate it.” Andy eyed the stack, then looked down at his arms, already wondering how he was going to carry it all.

That’s when the saloon doors creaked open, and in stepped Jasmine. She caught sight of him struggling and didn’t miss a beat.

“Need a hand, love?” she asked with a knowing smile, giving him a soft pat on the lower back.

“That’d be real nice, sweetness.”

She scooped up what he couldn’t carry, and the two of them headed out the saloon doors. Their walk back was quiet, as neither dared to start a conversation with their hands full of food. One small distraction and everything would go tumbling onto the cobblestone road.

Once they reached Andy’s place, Jasmine set her share of boxes on the counter and grinned. “Having a party without me, are you?”

“No, ma’am. Junior’s coming over, and I wasn’t sure what he’d want… so I may’ve overdone it.”

Jasmine laughed. Watching Andy over-prepare for something as simple as a sleepover? It was downright endearing.

“Is dinner for boys only, or could you make room for one more?”

“’Course. Stay as long as you want, and eat what you can,” Andy said with a smile.

Jasmine stepped back while Andy set his stack down. Her eyes wandered around the kitchen. It was small, but perfect for two. She could already picture herself cooking here, with Andy kicked back in a chair nearby. Maybe even a little dog curled up in the corner.

They could have a promising start here, and she found herself looking forward to seeing the rest of the house.

“You haven’t given me a tour since you moved in,” Jasmine said.

Andy shook his head and walked over, gently taking her hands in his.

“I’m sorry, hun. I’ve been tryin’ to wrap my head ‘round it myself. And I didn’t wanna get in the way of your publishing house. I know that means a lot to you.”

Jasmine leaned in, pressing her forehead against his. She wanted him to know that all was well between them. Him stepping into this place on his own? It meant the world to her. He proved more and more each day just how serious he was about her and about their future.

“You're so thoughtful, Andy. That’s my favorite thing about you,” she said, kissing him softly on the lips.

Andy melted into it, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. She fit against him like she was always meant to be there—soft, sure, and his. He breathed her in, soaking up the familiar scent of her hair.

Peach. He could get used to this.

“Ay, Andy!” Junior called from the stairwell. “I smell food—did you get me somethin’?”

Andy let Jasmine go with a smile. “Reckon our third wheel’s here.”

“No worries,” Jasmine replied. “Let’s all eat then.”

“And tomorrow, we’re gonna test out Andy’s new pistol! I’m so excited,” Junior beamed, polishing off the last of the rocket rooster tenders.

“That does sound exciting,” Jasmine said, smiling over at him.

“You should come with us! I already invited a few other folks, too.”

Andy choked on his dinner, coughing hard as he leaned forward. “Like who?”

Junior started counting on his fingers. “Well… there’s Pa, Ma, Gem, Mabel, Elsie, and umm… Grandpa Coop.”

Andy’s eyes went wide. His family was one thing—but the neighbors too? This wasn’t supposed to be a big ordeal. Just a simple test. That’s all it was.

“I might’ve also told Pa and Grandpa Coop it was a shootin’ competition,” Junior mumbled, glancing down at the floor.

And there it was…

Leave it to Junior to turn a quiet afternoon into a full-blown showdown. Of course Logan and Cooper jumped at the chance to prove who was the best shot in Sandrock. Now Andy wasn’t just testing a pistol, he was hosting a whole shootout.

Andy rubbed a hand down his face, pushing his hair back. Junior meant well—he always did. But Andy hadn’t planned on showing this weapon to anyone yet. Not even Logan. He still wanted to earn his Pa’s pride, and a half-baked gun test might not be the way to do it.

“You ain’t mad, are ya, Andy?” Junior asked, catching onto his brother’s silence. “I just really wanted you to have the chance to show everyone what yer made of.”

Andy shook his head and sighed. “No, partner. But I reckon we oughta get some shut-eye. I’ll need it if I’m goin’ up against Pa tomorrow.”

Junior grinned and gave his brother a quick side hug before darting out of the kitchen. “Can’t wait! Imma go to bed right now!”

Jasmine stepped closer, giving Andy’s shoulder a gentle squeeze before kissing his cheek. She knew how much Logan’s approval meant to him—and she’d be there to cheer him on, however he needed.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said softly. “And don’t worry so much. You’ll do great.”

“Thanks, sweetness.”

Andy and Junior mounted Waylon and headed out early, the snow crunching beneath the goat’s hooves as they scouted for a spot to set up.

“What about over by the windmill?” Junior asked, shading his eyes with one hand.

Andy looked in that direction. It was clear. The yakmel herd had migrated elsewhere due to the cold winter nights, and the ground was flat enough for what they needed.

He nodded in agreement, then slipped out of the saddle and helped his brother dismount.

A thick blanket of snow covered the once-sandy ground. Andy kicked around with his boots, searching for something solid. They’d need a log or some kind of base to prop up their targets.

Junior mimicked him, his own boots scuffing against the icy terrain—only he kicked too hard and sent a pile of snow straight into his boot. He yelped, balancing on one leg as he yanked the soggy boot off and shook out the powdery flakes.

“Oh, that’s cold! Whose idea was this anyway?” he called out to Andy.

Andy just grinned, crouching down to pack a snowball in his hands. With Junior preoccupied—and down a boot—it was the perfect chance for a little payback. After all, he had gone and run his mouth to the neighbors, turning what was supposed to be a quiet weapon test into a full-blown showdown. If Junior didn’t like snow in his boot, he sure wasn’t gonna like it on his coat.

Andy aimed carefully and let the snowball fly. It hit Junior square on the shoulder with a satisfying splat , scattering snow across his jacket.

Junior froze mid-boot shake. He slowly turned, narrowing his eyes as a devilish grin spread across his face.

“Oh, it’s on now.”

Snowballs started flying as the brothers launched into an all-out war. Andy ducked behind a tree, laughing as Junior hurled a wild shot that splattered harmlessly against the trunk. He countered with two more, one catching Junior in the hip and another just grazing his hood.

By the time the skirmish cooled, Junior was nearly soaked through. Andy had only been hit twice, but one of them went right down the back of his shirt and that one counted .

A familiar voice called out, “You boys savin’ any snow for the rest of us?”

Logan, Ma, and Gem were making their way over the ridge, bundled up and smiling at the commotion.

“Pa!” Junior shouted, scrambling behind the tree. “Geetim, Pa!”

Logan chuckled and gave a slow, exaggerated nod. “Reckon I better help my boy.”

"Oh no. That ain’t fair!," Andy called out, pointing to Logan.

Logan crouched to scoop up some snow, packing it tight and smooth. This one would sting. He lined up the shot, tracking Andy as he darted between rocks.

Andy was so focused on watching Logan that he didn’t notice the large tree root in front of him. He tripped, landing flat on his stomach—right next to the perfect log they needed to drag over by the windmill.

The whole family burst into laughter.

Logan let his snowball fly, nailing Andy square in the back and further drenching his shirt.

Andy grunted, the icy hit sending a shiver down his spine. He got to his feet and brushed the snow off.

“Alright, alright,” he said, catching his breath. “Now come help me move this thing. Coop and his gang’ll be here shortly.”

Logan and Junior came over, and the three boys hefted the log together, hauling it to the flattest patch of ground they could find. They’d have to be careful—it was close to the windmill, and one bad shot could do some real damage.

Just as they finished the heavy lifting, Cooper strolled up with his shotgun slung confidently over one shoulder, Elsie and Mabel trailing behind.

“Howdy, fellers,” he called, tipping his hat. “Heard y’all were hostin’ a little duel on the outskirts. Figured I’d swing by and offer a proper education—free of charge, courtesy of ol’ Coop’s shootin’ arm.”

Andy looked to Logan, who rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Coop, we’re just takin’ down some metal cans. Ain’t much of a duel today.”

“Doesn’t matter to me, partner. Cans or not, y’all are still gettin’ a butt-whoopin’.”

“Cooper, it’s just a friendly competition. No need to get all huffy ’bout it,” Mabel chimed in.

“Yeah, Pa. Take it easy,” Elsie added.

Cooper squinted hard and brushed them off. It did not matter if they were playing for gols, bragging rights, or just for kicks—he wanted to win. That was simply his nature, and the two women in his life knew better than to question his determination.

Mabel and Elsie joined the rest of Logan’s family over on a nearby stump. Mabel handed the kids warm cookies while Ma passed out cups of steaming hot chocolate. The two mothers made sure everyone stayed warm while they were out today.

“This’ll be interestin’,” Mabel said, lifting a cookie to her lips and eyeing the Builder.

“Indeed it will,” Ma agreed, sipping from her mug and returning Mabel’s look.

Logan walked downrange and began stacking cans along the log. The rust clung to his fingertips, leaving streaks on his jeans when he wiped them clean. He moved them with care—those edges were sharp enough to cut.

“Alright,” he called back. “Who’s goin’ first?”

“Reckon I will. Show you boys how it’s done,” Cooper said, pumping his shotgun with a cocky grin.

Logan stood near Andy, the two of them keeping a safe distance to avoid getting clipped by a flying can or in Cooper’s case, a misfired shot.

Cooper lined up his aim, exhaled, and pulled the trigger. The kickback slammed into his shoulder, jerking the barrel just enough to miss the first can.

“Naw, that’s hogwash! That was just a practice shot, y’all hear me?” Cooper hollered.

Andy snickered, covering his mouth and turning away to avoid getting caught laughing. That old man was losing his touch—as he’d lost his mind long before.

“Sure, partner. Whatever you say,” Logan replied, voice dry with sarcasm.

Mabel and Ma sat back, enjoying the show of their men talking trash. Mabel knew her husband was all bluster, and Ma knew Logan was mostly along for the ride at this point. But Andy? She had a feeling he had something up his sleeve and she was curious to see how he’d fare in all this.

Cooper, now more determined than ever, managed to hit four of the remaining five cans. He lowered his shotgun with a smug grin and strutted back toward Logan and Andy, acting like he’d already secured the win. 

He figured those boys didn’t stand a chance against his good ol’ boy prowess.

“Four outta six ain’t bad,” Logan said, feeling smug. “Reckon I’ll hit all six, though.”

Andy walked downrange and reset the cans Cooper had knocked over.

Logan took his mark, stance solid and sure. He even tossed a look over to Ma, flashing that signature smirk of his. He was feeling good. Confident even.

He fired from the hip in a sharp burst, bullets flying fast. He only paused when the chamber clicked empty.

He missed one.

Logan grit his teeth and shoved his pistol back into its holster, frustration flickering across his face. He looked over to Andy, who stood there deadpan. Cooper, on the other hand, looked like the cat that swallowed the canary.

“Uh-huh. All talk, and you still missed one,” Cooper mocked, grinning wide.

Logan grunted, accepting his score. “Alright, Andy. Get up here and let’s see what you got.”

Jasmine arrived and made her way over to the peanut gallery. Gem gave her a hug, and Junior waved as she took a seat between Mabel and Ma.

“Nice to see you, dear,” Ma greeted, giving her a gentle pat on the lap.

“Did I miss anything?”

“Not really. Pa and Logan are havin’ a good ol’ fashioned pissing contest. But Andy’s up next, so we’ll see how that goes,” Elsie replied.

Andy stepped up next, pulling out his sidearm. The light caught the shiny barrel, the sharp gold gleaming bright against the snow-covered ground. It nearly blinded everyone when it made its grand entrance.

“Holy milkin’ mackerel. What in the sweet Peach is that?” Cooper’s voice rang out in pure amazement.

“It’s my new pistol,” Andy replied, already bracing for Cooper’s reaction.

“Naw it ain’t! That there’s cheatin’. My shotgun was my daddy’s, and his daddy’s before him. That ain’t no regular pistol.”

Andy sighed. That was exactly the response he’d been expecting. This was why he wanted to test it privately—folks didn’t always agree on repurposing old-world tech the way he did. 

“Just let him try it. That was the whole reason we were havin’ this shootout,” Junior hollered from the stump.

Cooper looked over at the crowd—every face fixed with a stern glare.

“Well, alright. Guess it won’t matter much if he don’t hit a can,” Cooper grumbled, finally backing down.

Andy stepped forward, raising his weapon and taking aim down the range. He drew in a deep breath, trying to calm the tremble in his hands. Shooting out on the trail was one thing, but this? With everyone watching? It made his grip feel like jelly.

Then, a flicker of orange off to the side caught his eye. He recognized it instantly.

Jasmine.

She’d made it just in time to see him shoot.

He glanced over. She gave him a reassuring smirk and a thumbs-up.

“You got this,” she mouthed.

Andy rolled his shoulders, letting her confidence in him settle into his bones. He could do this. He knew it. And if she believed in him—what was the harm in giving it everything he had?

He started firing. Instinct took over, his focus sharpening like a blade.

First can— clink.

Second— clink.

Third, fourth, and fifth— clink clink clink —one after the next, clean and fast.

And finally... the sixth.

It did not just fall.

It vaporized in a flash of blue light, hit dead center by the electric beam.

He did it. He actually did it.

Junior was the first to leap off the stump.

“That’s my brother right there!” he whooped. “And he just bested all y’all!”

Cooper started cussing and stomping his boots into the snow like a toddler denied candy.

Logan’s jaw dropped—in a good way. Andy had just bested him in a shootout, and for once, he had no words. He just shook his head, equal parts stunned and proud.

It was a sight and one Andy was damn proud to be part of. He’d outshot Logan, and that was something he’d carry with him for a long while.

“Pa, it’s okay. It’s just for fun,” Elsie said, trying to soothe her flustered father.

“Coop, c’mon now. It ain’t that serious,” Mabel added.

“Y’all don’t understand…” Cooper sniffled. “I had plans for winnin’. I invested so many gols into this.”

Logan raised a brow. “Coop, we didn’t make any bets.”

Cooper waved him off. “I ain’t talkin’ ’bout that, partner.”

Without another word, he turned and let out a sharp whistle between his fingers.

Right on cue, Brown Jack came barreling down the hill, harness rattling and cart hitched behind him as he thundered toward the windmill.

Everyone exchanged confused glances.

“What’s he doing now?” Ma whispered to Logan.

Logan shrugged. “Yer guess is as good as mine.”

“May I?” Cooper asked, holding out his hand to Andy, gesturing for the pistol.

Andy hesitated, raising an eyebrow. “Sure… I guess.”

Cooper gave a grateful nod, then made his way to the cart. He unhitched his faithful yakmel and gave him a firm swat, sending Brown Jack trotting off—far from what was about to unfold.

Then he stepped behind the cart, eyes locking on its contents.

Firework and explosive barrels. 

“Y’all stand back now, m’kay?” he called over his shoulder.

“Coop, what are you—” Mabel started to ask.

BOOM.

Streaks of yellow, blue, and purple lit up the sky in a vibrant celebration of the “winner.” But before the awe could settle in, a red-hot fireball erupted from the cart—lighting up the side of the windmill and catching it ablaze.

Gasps broke through the crowd as chunks of the structure started falling to the snow-covered ground.

Andy looked down at his brother. “So, Junior… with all that runnin’ of yer mouth, you didn’t happen to tell the Civil Corps about this… right?”

“Nope. Sure didn’t, Andy,” Junior replied, eyes blinking slowly as he watched the snow around the base melt in a widening circle.

Cooper scratched the back of his head. “Well… I didn’t account for that at all.”

“COOOOOOOOOPPPEEEERRRRR!” The sheriff’s voice rang out from just across the tracks.

“You’ll handle this for me, right boys? Reckon me and Brown Jack oughta scoot now,” Cooper said, already hopping on his mount and vanishing into the snowy distance.

Justice arrived just as the last of the sparks fizzled out, staring down the group with the weight of a thousand unpaid fines.

No one spoke. Not a soul.

Then Junior piped up.

“He went that way, Justice!” he said, pointing at the fresh yakmel tracks cutting through the snow.

Justice let out a slow breath, pulling out a familiar notepad.

“Uh huh. I’ll be by each of your homesteads later to discuss the cost of replacin’ the town’s windmill.”

“'Course you will,” Logan groaned.

And with that, Justice reared back on Truth and tore off after Sandrock’s banjo-strumming, chaos-leaving menace.

Chapter Text

Chapter 21 - Diving for Damsels

Andy and Jasmine walked hand in hand toward the homestead. The afternoon sun had given way to a clear blue sky, and though the air held a slight nip, it was not enough to keep them indoors. They were bundled up—Andy in his wool-lined jacket and jeans, Jasmine in an insulated purple coat with gloves and a hat to match.

“You warm enough, sweetness?” Andy asked. “We’re gonna be out in this for a few hours at least.”

“I should be okay. If I get desperate, I could always snuggle up to a certain yakboy I know,” Jasmine replied, flashing him a grin.

A subtle heat crept into Andy’s cheeks, and soon he felt it in his ears. Jasmine knew just how to press all the right buttons to make him blush—and how she loved doing it. It reminded her of that lanky, rambunctious kid he used to be, always so easy to fluster. She’d had him wrapped around her finger for years.

“I reckon that yakboy would rather be snuggled up with you than any other critter out in the Eufaula,” Andy said.

“Are you comparing me to a monster you’ve wrangled?” Jasmine teased, giving him a playful shove.

“Oh, Peach, no! I only meant—”

“Gotcha!” Jasmine laughed, stepping up onto the porch as the wood creaked beneath her.

“You’re not very nice to me,” Andy smiled, taking the knob, turning it, and gesturing for Jasmine to enter first.

Once they entered the house, Andy brushed off his boots on the rug and took a look around.

“Junior! Gem! Y’all comin’ sleddin’ or not?” he hollered.

And just like a shot fired from a gun, Junior came barreling down the stairs, eyes locked on his older brother. Gaining speed, he launched himself at Andy with full force. Gem was not far behind, joining the sibling dogpile at the front door.

“Let’s go already! I’ve been waitin’ all mornin’ for your slow butt!” Junior quipped. “Oh hey, Jas! I don’t know how you deal with this lunkhead—pretty sure he’s got some rocks rollin’ ‘round where his brain’s supposed to be.”

Jasmine went to respond, but Gem cut her off.

“It’s because she’s in looooooove,” she sang.

“Bleh, you and yer fairy tale crap again,” Junior groaned.

“Ain’t none of that today—we’re havin’ fun,” Andy cut in, pushing his siblings off him.

Jasmine looked to Andy, admiring how well he handled the chaos. Junior could be a lot on his own, but add Gem’s “take no crap” attitude, and the two of them were like gas and fire. Still, Andy had wrangled tougher beasts than his siblings and it showed.

“Listen to yer brother today, or I’ll get yer momma on ya,” Logan warned, stepping into the room just as the noise hit its peak.

“Yes, Pa,” the two younger siblings said in unison.

Andy looked to Logan, who was already bundled up in his usual winter coat, looking like the cold barely fazed him.

“Whatcha got goin’ on today?”

“I’m helpin’ yer ma out over at the construction site, somethin’ ‘bout installin’ a door,” Logan answered. “I’m just surprised she asked me—woman never asks for anythin’.”

“Better get over there then. Don’t wanna keep her waitin’.”

“Yeah, I’ve done that enough in this lifetime,” Logan agreed.

“We have two courses to pick from,” Andy started, pointing to the two sets of snow-covered hills before the group. “The first one is sleds only, so we will ride in pairs of two there. The other is for boards only. Junior and Gem, you cannot get on that one yet—it is for older folks.”

“Boo! I can sled better than any one of y’all,” Junior said.

“Sure, partner. That’s why you always lose to me.”

“Psh, I could beat you on this course right now if I wanted to,” Junior challenged.

Andy rolled his eyes and chuckled. His little brother was always boastful, and Andy always played into it. While the two were thick as thieves, he would never miss a chance to put Junior in his place.

“Alright, Junior. Pick who you want to ride with. I’ll even give ya a head start.”

Junior looked over at the girls, concentrating. Gem was lightweight, which could give them an advantage in speed—but if they hit any real air, she would either wet her pants or make his eardrums bleed. Jasmine, though bigger, would slow him down just a touch, but he could easily manipulate the ride down by shifting their weight.

“I want Jasmine. Gem is too light, and Jas can help me bob and weave with her weight,” Junior declared. “C’mon Jas, no more flirtin’ with the enemy. We have a race to win.”

“Did he just call me fat?” Jasmine asked, before getting tugged away by Andy’s brother.

Andy shook his head, not daring to answer her. He bent down to Gem, straightening her coat and placing his cowboy hat on her head.

“You ready? Reckon we have a race to win, don’t we, sis?”

The little girl grinned, tilting up the brim of the hat as a mischievous smile formed on her face. “Let’s get them, Andy.”

Andy took Gem’s hand in his and the two of them rushed over to the starting mark. Junior and Jasmine were already nestled into their sled—Junior in front for steering, Jasmine in the back for… well, weight distribution.

“See you at the bottom of the hill, losers!” Junior hollered, giving a shove as their sled slushed off down the snowy slope.

Andy settled Gem into the front seat, making sure she was snug and ready before climbing in behind her. His legs tucked around hers, and he leaned forward with a grin.

“Think we oughta give them a little more of a head start?” he asked.

“Nope! We’ve waited long enough. Let’s ride!”

Andy chuckled, then gave a solid push, launching their sled in pursuit of the runaway duo.

Junior and Jasmine were swerving with the curves of the course. The first corner was gradual, giving them time to settle into the ride.

The second curve hit different—fresh snow dragged against their runners, slowing them down just enough to break their momentum.

Andy and Gem, riding the already-packed trail, met little resistance. That was the trick of going second—the more worn the path, the faster the ride.

They quickly gained on Junior and Jasmine, closing the gap until they were sledding side by side. Junior glanced over, then leaned hard to the right, banking his sled against his brother’s with a puckish smile.

“Outta my way, Andy! ‘Member I’m lugging yer precious cargo!” Junior hollered.

“Yeah, okay. Lemme know how my dust tastes,” Andy called back. “Gem, take the bars—hold it steady.”

Andy rose up in the sled, hands gripping the sides. Up ahead, he spotted an angled rock—just the right kind of bump to launch them and give a final boost toward the finish.

Gem listened without hesitation, keeping their sled steady and lining it up perfectly.

“What are you doing?” Junior asked, eyes wide as he caught on. “Jasmine, copy him!”

“No way. I’m staying seated for this ride,” Jasmine said flatly.

Junior groaned. His big mouth was about to cost him the most sacred thing in the household—bragging rights.

Gem focused as they neared the rock. She looked back for a quick confirmation, and Andy gave a firm nod—he was all in.

The moment they hit the slope, Andy jumped, gripping the bars tight as his body lifted off with the sled. The sudden lightness sent them soaring into the air.

For a moment, it felt like something out of an action movie—just needed a few explosions behind him. And Andy wouldn’t be surprised if some bystander dropped their snack watching them fly.

They landed with a satisfying crunch , the sled digging into the snow as they surged ahead. With the final curve just ahead and a trail of powder in their wake, Andy and Gem secured first place—no photo finish needed. Junior and Jasmine crossed the line moments later, bringing up the tail end of the race.

“Best two outta three?” Junior asked, brushing snow off his coat. “I want Gem this time.”

“Sure, partner. Whatever you want,” Andy agreed.

Logan moseyed over to the site where Jasmine’s publishing house was coming together. Construction was going well from what he could see.

The back deck had been reinforced, benches lined the front entrance, and a few flower pots were already set out, waiting for spring.

“It’s coming along, isn’t it?” his wife asked, stepping down from the wooden ledge and heading his way.

“Howdy, darlin’,” Logan said, taking her into his arms and planting a quick kiss on her cheek. “Lookin’ real good. But reckon anything you put your hands on turns out that way.”

“C’mon, I’ll show you where I need you,” she said, tugging him gently toward the cobblestone steps.

“Sure thing,” Logan replied.

But just as he moved to follow her, a knot of unease curled up in his gut. He paused, glancing out toward the snow-covered hills where his kids were spending the day.

Something dark circled high above the sledding course before landing on one of the tall column rocks in the distance.

“Ain’t they supposed to migrate for the winter?” he muttered under his breath.

“Logan! You coming, honey?” his wife called once more from down the steps.

“Uh, yeah darlin’. On my way,” he answered, tearing his gaze away with a furrowed brow.

The sledding group had met back up at the top of the course, both Gem and Junior worn out. Gem from racing the hills over and over, and Junior from—well—running his mouth and reaping what he sowed.

He’d lost both races he’d challenged, and he was feeling the sting of defeat.

Noticing his brother’s sulking, Andy suggested a peace offering.

“How ’bout I give you some gols and you get yourself and Gem somethin’ to eat?”

Junior’s eyes lit up, the thought of something sweet instantly wiping away the bitterness.

“Can I get some ice cream? I’ll share with Gem,” Junior pleaded.

“Here,” Andy said, handing over a few gols from his pocket. “Meet us back at the snowboard course, m’kay?”

Junior nodded eagerly and took off toward the food stand, Gem skipping along at his side.

Andy watched as his siblings strolled away, his lips curving into a soft smile. Jasmine caught the look and smiled herself.

“You’re so good with them,” she said.

“Thanks, sweetness. I’m tryin’ to do the best I can.”

“You are—and anyone can see that, love,” Jasmine replied, slipping her arm around his and snuggling close.

“You cold?”

“No,” she said, resting her head lightly against his shoulder. “Just happy.”

Andy pulled her in tighter and looked down at her. Her bright eyes met his, full of the love and steady support he had grown so fond of. There was nothing he could not face with her by his side.

“As much as I love holdin’ you like this,” he said, smirking, “reckon I oughta challenge you to the snowboard course.”

Jasmine rolled her eyes. “You and your brother, I swear. No doubt you all are related.”

She gave him a kiss, then tore away from his arms, dashing toward the shed that held the snowboards.

“Do I get a head start too?” she called.

Andy, already in pursuit, grinned wide. “Not this time.”

Taking their marks, Andy and Jasmine exchanged a glance, then looked over to his siblings—who stood off to the side smiling, chocolate smeared across their faces.

“Dibs on Andy,” Gem said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

Junior, clearly disappointed (and not one to bet on the dark horse), sighed. “The usual terms?”

“Yup.”

Andy watched as the two shook hands, already knowing exactly what was on the line. Another wager over who would end up cleaning the goat pen this week.

Jasmine was the first to push off, keeping her balance as she weaved effortlessly between snow-packed rocks and tight turns. Andy followed, launching himself down the slope and catching up quickly.

“Watch this!” he hollered, veering toward the edge and skidding his board along a slanted rock wall.

Jasmine laughed, barreling downhill with confidence—until a ramp-like rock caught her eye. She looked toward Andy, her expression a silent question.

“Go for it!” he shouted.

She leaned forward, eyes narrowed against the wind as she hit the jump. Her board lifted—soaring through the air—and for a heartbeat, she felt unstoppable. Wild and free and right beside him in spirit.

Then came the screech .

A bone-rattling cry tore through the sky as a massive, dark-feathered creature swooped in from above. Its talons caught her mid-flight—snatching her clean off her board and lifting her higher with terrifying speed.

“ANDY!” Jasmine screamed, her voice cracking as the sharp claws dug into the arms of her coat.

Andy watched in horror as Jasmine was ripped off her board and lifted skyward. A Dive Buzzard had snatched her mid-air and was now soaring down the path, wings cutting through the wind like knives.

He skidded his board to a hard stop, heart pounding in his chest. Without hesitation, he reached for his plasma pistol, pulling it free and powering it up in one swift motion.

This wasn’t just a monster hunt.

This was a rescue—and the woman he loved was counting on him.

“Alright, just need the hinges and we’ll be good to go,” Ma said, holding out her hand to receive them from Logan.

But Logan wasn’t listening.

That uneasy feeling he’d had earlier? It had bloomed into a gut-punch, tightening in his chest like a vice. Something was wrong—really wrong. He could feel it deep in his bones, it was the kind of feeling that didn’t lie.

“Logan?” Ma asked, her voice cutting through the silence. “What’s going on?”

She could see it plain as day in his face. His jaw was clenched, shoulders locked tight. His eyes were wide, distant and he was biting his lip so hard it looked ready to split.

“Logan,” she said again, more firmly now, stepping closer. “Talk to me.”

He blinked out of his trance. “We need to get to the kids. Now.”

Without another word, he whistled sharp through his fingers. Rambo came tearing through the sand, hooves thundering as he closed the distance. Logan mounted in one smooth motion and extended a hand.

“I’m with you,” Ma said, grabbing his arm and swinging up behind him, wrapping her arms tight around his waist as they rode.

Andy weaved through the terrain, dodging boulders and other obstacles, his board slicing through the slush with practiced ease. His eyes never left Jasmine. The buzzard dragged her just above the rock columns, each pass nearly clipping her against the jagged edges.

“I’m comin’, Jas! Hang on, okay?” he shouted, breath ragged but steady. The slick snow worked in his favor—he was gaining fast.

“Okay,” Jasmine whimpered, fear thick in her voice.

She struggled against the buzzard’s talons, trying to pry them loose. But the moment she moved, the creature screeched and clamped down tighter. Desperation clawed at her chest. She pinched, twisted—anything to break free—but it was no use.

All she could do now was hold on, and pray Andy would reach her in time.

Andy spotted an arched rock up ahead and veered toward it. He bent his knees and launched himself into the air, raising his pistol. A crackling beam shot out, grazing the buzzard’s wing. The creature shrieked, wobbling midair, nearly losing its grip on Jasmine.

Jasmine saw the scorched flesh and the panic flashing in the bird’s eyes—but it still didn’t let go.

“Dammit!” Andy shouted. “One more oughta do it.”

He found another jump and did it again—flying higher this time, eyes locked on the target. He fired. The second shot hit square, burning into the other wing.

With a furious screech, the dive buzzard released Jasmine and tore off into the fading sun.

She fell—fast.

Andy’s heart dropped. He had been on the bird’s tail the whole chase, but watching her tumble through the air still punched the breath out of him.

He set his fear aside and leaned into his instincts, racing forward, closing the gap. And just as she hit freefall, he caught her—arms tight around her waist—as their sled hit the ground and carried them across the finish of the course.

They were both shaking, breathless, snow swirling around them. Jasmine clung to him, burying herself in his arms. The feel of her, the scent of her hair, the weight of what could have been—it all hit him at once.

“Thank you,” Jasmine breathed, a single tear sliding down her cheek.

Andy reached up and wiped it away, leaning his forehead against hers.

“If I hadn’t caught you… I don’t know wh—”

“Don’t,” Jasmine whispered, cutting him off. “You did. You always do.”

“Where’s Andy?” Logan asked, his voice cracking as the realization hit—his two youngest were alone.

“Ma! Pa!” Gem shouted, turning back toward her parents.

“Where’s Andy?” Logan repeated, louder now, dread rising in his chest.

“They went down with some snowboards,” Junior answered. “They should be back any second.”

Logan took off toward the admissions stand, his boots pounding against the snow-packed ground. The employee behind the counter barely glanced up as he approached.

“I need to get down that slope. Now,” Logan snapped, his tone sharp with urgency.

“Sir, you have to pay to use the boards,” the worker replied flatly.

A storm darkened Logan’s face. His hands trembled, not from the cold, but from fury. This man’s indifference in the face of what could’ve been tragedy pushed him past the edge. Lightning flickered behind his eyes, his jaw clenched tight—he was one second from snatching that fool out of his chair.

“Logan!” his wife called, pulling his attention away. “Come over here—they’re coming up the hill now!”

Andy and Jasmine came into view, and the family gathered around them. The kids rushed over first.

“So who won?” Junior asked.

“We tied. Sorry, bud. Maybe next time, huh?” Andy replied, setting Jasmine down.

He didn’t want his siblings knowing what really happened. They’d enjoyed their day, and he wasn’t about to ruin it with the terrifying truth that things hadn’t exactly gone to plan.

Logan and Ma read Andy immediately. They shared a look, quiet but full of understanding. Ma asked a question without words, and Logan gave a small nod.

“Come on, let’s start heading back, huh?” Ma said gently. “Jasmine, did you want to come along, honey?”

“Yes, please,” Jasmine answered, falling in beside the Builder and her children.

As they walked away, Logan’s eyes caught the tearing in Jasmine’s jacket—and he knew right away what it was.

“Andy…” he said, breaking the silence.

Andy’s shoulders dropped. He took a long breath, finally feeling like he could breathe again.

“I’m okay, Pa. Just need a second to catch my breath.”

Logan gave a weak smile, gripping his son’s shoulder firmly. “I’m real proud of ya. You know that? You watched someone you love get torn away from you—and instead of lettin’ the fear take hold, you buckled down... and saved her.”

“I love her, Pa. And I don’t ever want to live this life without her in it,” Andy said, voice soft but sure. “She means everything to me. It’s like what you and Ma have.”

Logan smiled, that familiar pride welling up in his eyes. “Well then, partner… you best be gettin’ that diamond ring designed real quick, huh?”

Andy let out a breath—half laugh, half nerves.

“C’mon,” Logan said, throwing an arm around his boy’s shoulder. “Let’s head on back and get some dinner. I’ll talk to you about WOW.”

“WOW?” Andy echoed, raising a brow.

“Ways of women,” Logan replied with a grin.

Andy snorted. “Alright then.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 22 - At the Edge of It All

Andy sat inside Unsuur’s house, taking in the shelves lined with rocks and gems that adorned the walls. Ma had suggested that since he was looking for certain materials to craft an engagement ring for Jasmine, he ought to reach out to Sandrock’s resident expert on all things mineral-related.

“Wilson will be joining us as well,” Unsuur said, grabbing his best friend from a crate and gently setting him on the table.

Andy raised an eyebrow. He knew Unsuur had a best friend—he talked about him all the time. They even took long walks to the oasis, and shared dinners at the Blue Moon. Andy had assumed Unsuur meant a pet or maybe some desert hermit with similar quirks.

But no. There, sitting proudly on the table, was a large chunk of sandstone.

Andy shifted awkwardly in his seat, staring into the cold, distant googly eyes glued to the rock. He knew better than to say anything—Ma had warned him that Unsuur was a dear family friend. If he upset him, well, she'd be on Andy like flies on yakmel crap.

“Is he… alright, partner?” Andy asked, watching one of the googly eyes slowly drift to the side.

Wilson’s gaze now appeared less stoic and more... cross-eyed.

“Oh, Wilson? He’s fine. Just feeling a little dizzy, is all,” Unsuur replied, settling into the seat across from Andy. “Now, what brings you by?”

“Well, I’m thinkin’ ‘bout proposin’ to Jasmine. And I need some ideas on the gems I could use to craft a ring. You’re my best bet for an expert on the subject, so... here I am.”

“Hmm…” Unsuur hummed, bringing a hand to his chin in concentration. “What were you thinking?”

“I found a diamond in those ruins not long ago. But beyond that, I’m not sure. I want it to be as unique as her,” Andy said, a slight rose color building in his cheeks. “She deserves somethin’ different. She deserves everythin’, really.”

“Come on over to my shelf here, and let’s see what I’ve got.”

Andy stood and followed Unsuur over to the small display. Each of the three rows held different gemstones and some metals, each one carefully positioned to showcase its features. On the top shelf, Andy noticed a diamond nearly identical to the one he had stowed away in his belongings. He reached out, picking it up to inspect it.

“You’re getting married, which usually means eternity,” Unsuur said, squatting down to grab a gold chunk from the bottom shelf. “I read once that gold represents forever, and marriage is like forever. So this could be the metal you use. Plus it’s super durable, so it’ll make your marriage withstand a lot too.”

Andy took the chunk from Unsuur and held it up against the diamond. The two looked good together, but something was still missing. It needed something more. Another gem, maybe. Something that would set it apart.

Jasmine was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of girl. So she needed a once-in-a-lifetime ring.

“Looks a little plain right now. Got anythin’ else we can use to dress it up a bit?”

Unsuur glanced to the other shelves, nothing catching his eye at first. But then a thought struck him—he knew just the gem. One that wasn’t in his collection, but could be found on the outskirts of town.

“Spinel would be perfect. It represents devotion. You’re devoted to monster hunting, and she’s devoted to publishing—but together, you’re devoted to each other. You should be able to find some in the Badlands, near the Mole cave.”

“Mole cave, huh? Sure, I can head out that way and get some. Then Ma and I can start workin’ on a design,” Andy said. “What’s it look like?”

“It’s a lavender when collected. You can’t miss it.”

Lavender.

The same color as Jasmine’s dress on graduation day.

It all fit together perfectly. Gold for the forever and always. Spinel for their shared devotion despite where life had taken them, and where it was going to take them. And diamond for—

“Unsuur, what’s the diamond for then?”

“I don’t know,” Unsuur said, already grabbing his deputy hat for patrol. “But I hear they’re a girl’s best friend. So there—kind of like me and Wilson.”

And with that, he strolled out the door, leaving Andy chuckling to himself in the quiet.

Logan watched from the town square as Andy stepped out of Unsuur’s house. Good—he had taken his momma’s advice and gone over there. Logan had done the same thing back when he was planning to propose to the Builder. The only difference was, he had brought Unsuur along to help gather the materials for her ring.

Andy mounted up onto Waylon and spotted Logan across the square. With a nudge of his boots, he steered the goat in his pa’s direction.

“Headin’ out, are ya?” Logan asked.

“Gotta head out to the Badlands to pick up some spinel. I should be back before sunset.”

“Don’t want me taggin’ along?” Logan asked, a faint hint of disappointment in his tone.

Andy smiled, appreciating how his pa was always ready to drop everything for him. But this was just a rock-collecting run—one he could manage on his own. He had not been through the Badlands since he was a kid, back when he was playing bandit with Logan. But after the dive buzzard incident, Andy felt ready for anything.

“Nah, I should be alright. Catch ya later, Pa,” Andy said with a small grin.

Waylon reared up slightly, hooves tapping the dirt before settling back down. And with a steady start, he took off down the path, carrying Andy toward the Badlands.

Logan bit the inside of his cheek. He knew Andy could take care of himself. From one monster hunter to another, he was more than ready to handle the wilds the Badlands held within. But that was the monster hunter in him talking. The father in him wanted nothing more than to tear off with Rambo and follow him, to make himself part of the journey—just to be sure Andy came home in one piece.

“You want to go after him, don’t you?” Ma asked, bringing her shopping over to her husband’s side.

“Is it that obvious?” Logan huffed.

“And you say that I’m stubborn,” Ma joked, watching their son in the distance. “Don’t you monster hunters track your bounties?”

“Well, yeah, it comes with the territory, darlin’,” Logan replied, curiosity now piqued. “Why?”

“You could follow Andy and stay back a ways. That way, if he gets into trouble, you’re right there to lend him a hand. Don’t worry about me—I’ll whistle for Merle and head on home.”

Logan dropped down from Rambo and pulled his wife into his arms, kissing her forehead. “Knew there was a reason I married ya.”

“Someone’s gotta be the brains of this operation,” she smiled.

“Easy now, boy. Gotta keep our heads ‘bout us,” Andy warned Waylon.

Waylon slowed to a steady trot. The both of them scanned the dilapidated minecart station ahead. A large wooden ramp, once erected into the air and connected to the building, was nearly in shambles. Andy remembered it always being in rough shape, but with all the years that had passed, its once-weak structure had only worsened.

As they passed under the railway tracks, the creaking of old wood echoed above. It was an unsettling sound, to say the least. If a forceful wind blew through here, there was no doubt it would take this place with it.

Once they cleared the dangerous area, Waylon stopped. His eyes darted around. Andy noticed and leaned forward, patting his neck in reassurance.

“Whatcha got, Waylon?”

Waylon stomped and threw his horns up toward the ridge above them. A few pebbles tumbled down, followed by a soft but noticeable crackling sound. Whatever had been up there had tucked tail and gone back to wherever it was hiding. But that did not mean Andy and Waylon could breathe easy just yet.

“H’yah, let’s press on for now. That gem ain’t gonna find itself.”

Waylon nodded in agreement, listening to his rider and moving further down the trail toward the outskirts of where Unsuur had said Andy would find the spinel he was searching for.

The orange stone lined the rest of the way toward the Mole Cave. Very few plants grew out here besides the occasional sisal tree—and even those left the desert looking barren. The greenification efforts in Sandrock had proven fruitful over the past few years, but they were still limited to the town’s inner limits.

Someone could get so used to seeing green all the time in town, and that someone had been Andy. He had been in town so long, he had almost forgotten what Sandrock used to look like. The Badlands offered him that recollection. He had also forgotten how unsettling the barren landscape could be. But in the barrenness, there was a perk—there was less cover for monsters to hide.

When Waylon reached the mouth of the Mole Cave, Andy dismounted and scanned his surroundings. Just ahead, he could see the spinel peaks jutting from the ground. He had always thought it strange—when buried, the stones were a fierce red, but once harvested from the sand, they turned lavender. Perhaps it was just the way the sunlight lit the stone once it was broken apart.

Taking a smaller version of his Ma’s pickhammer from his satchel, he began to dig. Shards clattered to the ground around him—the perfect size to be cut and implemented into the ring. He worked diligently, making sure to select only the best pieces.

Meanwhile, Waylon had wandered off, the scent of a rutabaga bush filling his nostrils. And like the true goat he was, he could not help but take a short walk to gorge himself on the sweet-tasting vegetables.

Lowering his head, Waylon found a large rutabaga, freshly ripened. He grabbed it with his teeth and started chomping down.

As he chomped, Waylon kept one eye on Andy, who had started cussing at the pickhammer—not the person wielding it, mind you, but the tool itself, as if it had betrayed him by damaging some of the shards. He also kept an eye on the ridge above Andy, where a familiar shape had appeared, watching silently over him.

Looking upward, Waylon spotted his stall mate, Rambo, standing tall on the ledge. Logan sat in the saddle, peering down at Andy like some kind of guardian angel. The goat rolled his eyes. Andy was in good hooves with him. His partner was more than capable. Logan had nothing to worry about.

“Stupid-ass hammer. How does Ma even use this thing?” Andy cursed. “Reckon if I just shoot the damn thing, I’d have better luck.”

Now there was an idea.

Andy stepped back, unholstering his gun. The metal sheen caught the sun just right as he lined up his shot and blasted it at the spinel.

At the impact of the beam, the stone shattered—shards launching into the air. But when Andy went to pick them up, he noticed they were now coated in an ashy black dust.

He sighed, shoulders slumping. “Back to the pickhammer it is.”

Logan watched as his son blasted the spinel to smithereens, chuckling to Rambo who also seemed amused at the sight of the young hunter becoming impatient. Andy was growing up, but sometimes that impatient little boy still managed to slip out. 

Taking a moment to give Andy one last look, Logan almost felt comfortable enough to leave his son. But it was a good thing he did not—because just as he was about to take off, three Geeglers appeared on the horizon, weapons drawn and mounted on horseback, barreling toward Andy.

Waylon spotted them before Andy did. He saw Logan reaching for his firearm, jaw clenched tight. So, in true goat fashion, he let out a loud, warning bleat.

“Bellyachin’ because of all them rutabagas, are ya?” Andy quipped, brushing dust from his pants.

But Waylon did not budge. He ran straight to Andy, bumping his side and trying to push him toward the saddle.

“You’re bein’ real jumpy, boy. What’s got into you?”

Waylon let out another loud, urgent meh , his hooves pawing at the sand. He nudged Andy again—harder this time—trying to force him to mount up.

Andy finally slung the last of his spinel into the saddlebag, but it was already too late.

A thick cloud of dust exploded around them as the Geeglers descended, surrounding Andy and Waylon in a tight, closing ring.

“Look what we got here, boysss,” the blue one hissed, glancing at his companions.

Flanking him were a purple and an orange Geegler—each of them built long, lean, and scaly, their armor mismatched and dust-covered.

Andy leaned against Waylon, the goat’s wiry hair brushing against his arm as the Geeglers circled. Each one gave him a long, hungry look as they passed.

“I thought we made peace with y’all. Larry still resides in Sandrock. You take orders from him, don’tcha?” Andy sneered.

“Sssssssure don’t, human,” the orange one replied, pulling the reins to bring his horse to a walk. “We’re not from around here. Thissss ‘Larry’ you ssspeak of—he hasss no rule over us.”

Andy’s brow furrowed. If these lizardfolk were not local, then where had they come from?

“You lost then, friends?” Andy asked.

“No, partner. We sssure aren’t.”

Andy’s hand hovered near his holster. The Geeglers kept riding in a slow, deliberate circle. He counted their strides, watching for a blind spot—one small window where he could draw and fire without them seeing it coming.

On the ridge, Logan watched—his eyes flicking between Andy and the interlopers that had him surrounded. He bared his teeth and unholstered his gun, ready to step off the ledge, but was yanked backward by an unexpected force.

Rambo had bitten down on his collar and tossed him toward a cluster of stones. Logan scrambled up, about to protest, but the goat snorted and stomped into place between him and the edge.

“Now ain’t the time, Rambo. He needs us down there,” Logan growled.

But Rambo stood firm, as stubborn as ever. He lowered his head, one hoof digging into the stone beneath him. It was clear he was not moving. Not for Logan. Not for anyone.

Logan stared at him, frustration burning behind his eyes.

“Fine. Have it yer way,” he muttered, holstering his gun with a reluctant sigh.

Andy caught a break in the Geeglers’ pattern—and fired from the hip.

The beam struck the sand just between two of them.

All three halted their mounts. A long, tension-filled silence settled in the air. The Geeglers glared, their gazes sharp and unreadable.

“You misssssed,” the blue one snarled.

Andy looked down at his pistol, then back at him, his expression flat.

“Nah. I sure didn’t. Consider it a warnin’. Leave now, and don’t come back. Or the next one won’t miss.”

His voice was low. Dangerous even.

These Geeglers wanted trouble? Then so be it. Andy was ready.

The leader looked to his companions. After a moment, each one gave a slow nod.

“You ain’t ssseen the last of usss, hunter,” the blue one warned, narrowing his eyes. “We’ll meet again.”

He turned his mount and rode off, the others following, their silhouettes disappearing into the haze beyond the Mole Cave.

Logan swallowed hard, relief washing over him as he watched his son survive the standoff. Andy had not only gotten the Geeglers to leave, but had done it without bloodshed. Something Howlett had always said should be a last resort.

And it seemed Andy had taken that lesson to heart.

Logan walked over to Rambo, patting him gently on the shoulder as he let out a long-held breath. “Thank you.”

Rambo leaned into him, tucking his head over Logan’s shoulder. A quiet reminder—one Logan had taught more than once—that even when things looked their worst, it was worth taking a second to stop and think before acting.

It was a lesson Logan had momentarily forgotten. But not Andy.

And that, more than anything, made him proud.

Ma was sitting at her desk when she heard the soft click of the door closing from the next room. Her mind ticked through the possible culprits. Junior? No, he was upstairs, working on some school project. Gem? No, she was off having a slumber party with Grandma Vivi. That left only one other member of the household. But even then, the sound had been too soft, too careful, to have been him.

“Logan?” she called out, rising from her chair and moving to meet him at the door.

Logan stood just inside, hanging his hat on the hook. There was a visible tremble in his shoulders. He said nothing—just glanced her way. His blue eyes blinked slowly, then dropped to the floor.

Ma stepped in close, her hand curling gently around his arm. Her other hand lifted to his chin, coaxing his gaze back to hers.

“Logan,” she said softly, “what happened?”

“Nothin’, darlin’,” Logan lied. “I’m just real tired is all.”

“Don’t. Don’t do that to me,” Ma said, her voice sharpening. “What happened? Is Andy hurt?”

“Andy’s fine. When I followed h—”

Logan was cut off by the sudden creak of the front door swinging open.

Andy stepped through, ever confident, framed by the fading light.

“Hey, y’all,” he greeted with a grin. “Ma, I picked up some materials. Mind if we take a look at yer jewelry processor? I got an idea in mind.”

He froze, brow furrowing as he registered the scene in front of him. Ma’s hand still resting on Pa’s arm, Logan pale and tense, like he had just walked away from something heavy.

“You guys okay?” he asked, tone dipping with concern.

“Uh… yeah, partner. Reckon I better wash up,” Logan replied. “Been out patrollin’ and all that nonsense. I’m sure yer ma’ll take a look at the processor with ya.”

He gently pulled away from his wife and headed down the corridor toward the restroom, hoping to scrub off the day’s events—and maybe reclaim the feeling of normalcy he craved.

Ma’s eyes followed his form until he turned the corner and disappeared from view. She made a quiet mental note: this conversation was far from over. And she would get to the bottom of what was weighing on him.

“Come on, baby. Let’s take a look at those materials you got,” she said warmly, shifting her full attention to her son and the engagement ahead.

Ma and Andy stepped out into the backyard, dusk settling in around them. The distant howls of rockyenarolls echoed across the dunes, and the chill of winter still clung to the air, the snow crunching softly beneath their boots.

They made their way toward the workshop nestled beside the stable—the one Ma used for her more delicate projects, tucked away from the clang of larger machines. Andy reached the door and pulled it open, holding it for her.

Inside, the space was warm with lamplight and the faint scent of metal and sawdust. The walls were lined with tools, small-scale processors, and half-finished commissions. But their focus tonight was the red processor tucked into the corner near the workbench.

Ma settled onto the stool, flipping her welding mask up onto her head. She would need it soon—for warping the gold into shape and setting the stones tight.

“I was thinkin’... we could put the diamond in the middle and then two spinel stones around it?” Andy suggested, glancing at the pouch of materials he’d gathered.

“Sounds beautiful,” Ma said, her voice soft. “Let me start on the band, then we can look at the kind of cut you want.”

She tilted her mask down and sparked the welder, the golden band beginning to take shape in her skilled hands.

Andy watched as his ma worked the metal beneath the hood of the processor, the sparks flaring bright enough to make him flinch. He knew he was not supposed to look directly into it, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted to see it come to life.

It didn’t take long. Ma moved with practiced precision, shaping the band with steady hands. Once it was ready, she reached for the nearby water tank and dunked the piece under. Steam hissed up as hot metal met cool water.

When she lifted it again, the base of the ring gleamed in the lamplight—simple, strong, and ready to hold something precious.

“So, what kind of cut are you thinking about?” she asked, holding the band up for him to see.

Andy hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “I ain’t sure, Ma. I just want it to be as special as her.”

Ma gave him a warm smile, the kind only a mother could give. “Don’t worry, honey. She is going to love it.” 

She turned back to the workbench, already sorting through stones and tools. “I will put something together here.”

Ma managed to come up with a simple design. She cut the diamond into an emerald shape—larger than the stones surrounding it. It was meant to be the centerpiece, after all. The spinel was cut into square shapes—bold enough to stand out, but not enough to outshine the diamond.

With her tools in hand, she worked quickly and carefully, shaping the stones before bringing them, along with the band, under the hood. Clamping the ring in place, she took up her welder and mended each piece together—crafting the delicate and unique ring her son had envisioned.

Once finished, she quenched it one final time, then set it beneath the hood to rest.

“We’ll let it sit for the next few days,” Ma said. “Just to make certain everything has fused properly.”

“Great,” Andy beamed, wrapping his arms around her. “You’re the best. I can’t wait for Jasmine to see it.”

Ma returned the hug, holding her son close. But her thoughts drifted—back to the unease in Logan’s eyes she'd seen earlier.

“Andy…”

“Yeah, Ma?” he asked, pulling back slightly.

“What happened today? Did you run into any trouble while gathering those gems?”

“Just some Geeglers,” Andy replied. “They were no trouble, though. Mostly struttin’ their stuff—probably lookin’ for some lost tourist to grab or somethin’.”

“Geeglers?” Ma repeated.

The Builder had not seen any in years—not even with Larry still around. They had mostly kept to the south, near that massive compound Logan and Howlett had explored long before she ever set foot in Sandrock. A peace deal had been struck between Logan and Larry, and the Geeglers were expected to honor it.

They were to stay away from Sandrock, unless they were trading or volunteering for the greenification efforts stretching across the Eufaula.

“Said they weren’t from this area,” Andy added. “Don’t know what hole they crawled out of, but they threatened me. Said this was not the last time I would see ‘em.”

“Hmm. Interesting,” Ma said, her expression unreadable. “You had best head on home, baby. It is getting late, and I am sure you have plans tomorrow.”

“Thanks again, Ma. Talk soon,” Andy said, leaning in to kiss her forehead before stepping out into the cold night.

Andy left the workshop, thinking of all the different scenarios in which he could propose to Jasmine. As much as he would have loved to take that ring and bust down her door, he knew it was best to let it ride for a bit. He had done the heavy lifting—that was the most difficult part. Or at least, what he thought was the most difficult part.

Asking her was the real kicker, but as he stepped into his home, he figured it was best to stick a pin in it for now. Today had been eventful enough, to say the least. Picking out gems, harvesting them, and then running into those Geeglers had drained him. The only thing Andy felt like conquering now was a hot shower and a set of soft sheets.

Logan laid in bed, his head resting against the pillow. He was not sleeping. Just resting, as the day’s events had troubled him too much.

He wondered what would have happened had he not been there. But he sighed heavily. Nothing . Nothing would have happened. Andy would have handled the situation just the same. Hell, he didn't even know Logan was there in the first place.

Logan had taught him well. Life had taught him well. So why should he be lying awake, wasting a good night’s rest on some irrational thought?

He turned over, fluffing up his pillow, trying to make himself more comfortable—as if the pillow was the issue, and not the thoughts rushing through his mind. He was so focused on it that he didn’t even notice his wife entering the room, now standing quietly at his side.

“Hi there,” she grinned. “That pillow say something mean to you, did it? Do I need to step in?”

Logan rolled his eyes, his head dropping back against the cushion, eyes pointed toward the ceiling. “Nah, darlin’, just mullin’ somethin’ over.”

Ma came in close, pushing his legs over to make room for herself beside her husband. Logan obliged, scooting toward the middle.

“Andy told me about the Geeglers,” she started. “You must be proud of him. He handled them without a fight.”

“Yeah, I guess I am,” Logan agreed.

Ma took her hand and brushed away the strand of hair clinging to Logan’s temple. Her touch was gentle, tracing the edge of his ear before tucking the lock behind it.

“Our son is growing up, Logan. We can’t change that. However, we can change how we react to it,” Ma said. “You carried me when he moved out. Let me help you with this.”

“I know. The monster hunter in me has no doubt he can handle himself. But the pa in me wants to hang on and keep him home.”

“I know, babe. But we can’t fence him in. We can only watch him ride out over that horizon and make sure he always has a place to come home to.”

Logan softened. His wife’s words resonated with something deep in him. “Thanks, darlin’. Reckon Junior’ll be out there with him soon enough.”

“There’s a thought. Now quit your brooding!” she teased. “It’s almost too much for me to bear.”

Logan leaned up onto his elbows, watching as his wife laughed at the sight of her husband struggling with a little fatherly love.

“Broodin', huh? Well, let me show you what this ‘broodin'’ yakboy has in mind for you,” Logan drawled, moving swiftly to capture her.

Ma tried to pull away, but Logan was too quick. He wrapped her up, pushed her down onto the mattress, and lay on top of her before planting a gentle kiss on her lips.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you,” Ma echoed.

Chapter Text

Chapter 23 - A Slice of Life and of Cake

“Andy, will you hand me that rope?” Ma asked, her hand held out to receive it. “I need it to hang up this banner.”

Andy did not hear her. He sat at the counter of the Blue Moon, deep in thought—thinking about how this was all going to turn out for him.

He and Ma had talked through the proposal plan. They spun their wheels trying to decide where the best place for the big moment might be. The train station was out of the cards—too much traffic coming in and out. And even though it was the first step toward Andy and Jasmine starting their relationship, it just didn’t scream romance.

Then there was the town square, more specifically the spot where they had shared their first kiss. But that did not sit right with Andy either. That had been an intimate moment—something he liked keeping between him and Jasmine. The whole town did not need to be a part of that memory.

So they settled on something cozy, but also with enough space for Andy and Jasmine to slip away if they needed to. Owen had allowed them to use the Blue Moon for the proposal and the celebration after.

Andy had mulled it over, and while everything seemed perfect… there was still that doubt in his mind. He knew Jasmine. Loved her. And he felt like he had come leaps and bounds from where he was. But there was still that nagging feeling that somehow, some way, this was not going to go his way.

“Andy?”

“Uh—yeah, Ma,” Andy answered, handing her the small spool of rope.

Ma could read Andy like a book. She knew what was on his mind—the way he slouched, the furrowing of his eyebrows. This poor boy, he would have himself talked out of this before it even started. Her son needed her to step in, to be that reassurance.

“It is going to be just fine. Nothing to worry about,” she encouraged.

“What if she says no?”

“Why would she say no to a strapping young monster hunter like yourself? Especially when you are slouched over like that with a worrisome look on your face?”

Andy rolled his eyes, sighing heavily. “You’re not funny.”

“I think she’s entertainin’,” Logan added, stepping out from the kitchen.

Andy watched in pure horror as he realized Logan had been in the kitchen. Hopefully, he was doing something else besides cooking. Peach knew the man could only put out one fire at a time—and right now, there was one occupying Andy’s chest that needed tending first.

“Y’all are a bunch of jokesters, ain’tcha? Ma over here makin’ smart remarks, and now I see you steppin’ out the kitchen? I’m doomed,” Andy said, dropping his head to the counter.

“Nonsense, partner. We got yer back. It’s yer siblings you gotta worry about.”

Logan had tasked his youngest children with creating a diversion for Jasmine. He knew two things—one, Jasmine would need to be kept away from the celebration site. And two, his kids—just like him—were masters of distraction.

Junior was a pro, actually, especially when it came to Rocket Rooster issues. The scar on his cheek proved his commitment to the cause and never backing down from an assignment given by Logan.

“What? Where are Junior and Gem?”

“You asked for a diversion scheme, so I put them two on it,” Logan replied, a smile tugging at his lips.

“You didn’t,” Andy said, worry creeping into his voice.

“Reckon I did. Now c’mon—I got some cake batter that needs mixin’.”

Junior and Gem walked on opposite sides of Jasmine, pulling her around town like she had never walked through it a day in her life. She indulged them—figuring this was payback for all those times she’d done the same thing whenever a newcomer moved to Sandrock.

“And here is the oasis,” Junior said, a mischievous grin widening on his face. “But somethin’ tells me you already knew that. Well… I guess you and Andy would know ‘bout it.”

A red-hot heat built up in Jasmine’s cheeks, thinking back to the night Andy had convinced her to go skinny dipping. And despite it being against her better judgment, she looked back on it as a fond memory instead of an embarrassing one. Especially since Logan had alluded to him and the Builder doing something along the same lines.

“I see,” Jasmine replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I still don’t know what skinny dipping is,” Gem added.

Junior and Jasmine shared a look—neither daring to explain what the little one was asking about. That was a conversation for Logan and Ma to handle, and both silently hoped she’d forget that dinner conversation ever happened.

“Ma said it’s when really skinny people dunk their toes into the oasis, but that just doesn’t sound right.”

“Alright, movin’ on,” Junior said quickly, eager to redirect. “Hey! I sprained my ankle here once.”

Jasmine watched as Junior ran toward the stairs, flying up them with great speed and determination. It seemed he had learned his lesson from that ankle sprain—he took more caution this time as he ascended.

When he reached the top, he looked back at the girls trailing behind him.

“Y’all are so slow. C’mon, we still got the rest of the town to see!” Junior beckoned.

“Why don’t we get something to eat? It’s about lunchtime, guys. How about the Blue Moon?”

Junior and Gem looked at one another. They couldn’t go to the Blue Moon. They were under strict orders from Pa not to go anywhere near it until about eighteen hundred hours. And being the little cadets they were, they knew their mission came first—no matter how badly they wanted Rocket Rooster tenders.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Gem agreed, nodding along with her brother.

Jasmine raised an eyebrow. Why were these two refusing their favorite place to eat? Heck, it was the only place to eat in Sandrock. What was going on at the Blue Moon that they didn’t want her to see?

She didn’t recall any special events scheduled today. Nothing had been listed in the paper… the one she published. Still, she agreed—hoping her compliance might speed up the tour and end the awkwardness.

“Okaaay,” Jasmine replied, slow and unsure.

“We could stop at yer house,” Junior suggested. “Then you can get a snack or whatever ya want.”

Jasmine nodded, agreeing to the suggestion—but her mind still wandered. Why couldn’t she go to the Blue Moon?

“Is it twenty minutes? Maybe forty? Nah, it’s gotta be—”

“Logan!” Andy shouted, panic pouring into his tone. “I thought you knew how to make the cake!”

“Ah, easy, partner. I can make a cake. I’ve done it before.”

“Yeah, with Ma’s help,” Andy muttered, folding his arms. “And for a school project—not my engagement party!”

Logan waved him off like a gnat on a hot day, tucking the metal sheet into the oven with full confidence. “Cake’s a cake. Quit yer moanin’.”

But he sure didn’t have it. It was only a few seconds before the sweet smell of vanilla turned into the unmistakable stench of smoke and charcoal. And when the oven flickered from the dark plume building inside, it only confirmed what Andy knew all along.

“Dammit!” Logan hollered, grabbing an oven mitt and cracking the door.

If there was any way to make the situation worse, it was exactly that.

A thick cloud of smoke rolled out of the kitchen, spilling across the counters in a grayish-black wave. The boys started coughing, tucking their faces into their elbows as they stumbled out into the main saloon.

“What’s goin’ on with ya boys?” Cooper asked, strolling in like he owned the place—which, in his mind, he probably did. Word of a potential proposal had reached his ears, and he figured nothing set the mood better than the soft strumming and keys of the Coogo band.

“Logan burnt the cake,” Andy replied between coughs. “And now I don’t know what we’re gonna do.”

“Aww, don’t worry ’bout that, partner. Lemme take a look at it. Maybe Mabel can fix it up,” Cooper said, sauntering into the kitchen with a confident swing in his step.

Andy and Logan watched, waiting for Cooper to resurface. Seconds turned to minutes, and the sounds drifting from the kitchen didn’t exactly boost Andy’s confidence. A few clangs, a suspicious thump, and then…

“Alright,” Cooper called, reemerging from the scene of the confectionery crime. “Lemme take it on home. I’ll see what we can make of this.”

As he carried the blackened pan out the saloon doors, Andy and Logan shared a quiet moment. They were both surprised Cooper had lent a hand so quickly—but neither was about to complain.

“That was nice of him,” Andy said.

“Yeah, sure was… but I think I could give it another go,” Logan speculated. “Think maybe the oven was just too hot. Weren’t the time or nothin’.”

“Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s not do that,” Andy deadpanned.

The next stop on the “keep Jasmine distracted tour” was the church.

“And this is where Ma and Pa had their standoff with the Duvos soldiers,” Junior said, pausing for dramatic effect. “It was here they fell in love and became the best power couple Sandrock had ever seen.”

“Junior, I don’t think—” Jasmine tried to interrupt.

“I knew it!” Gem cut in, pointing an accusatory little finger at her brother. “Ma said it was from some worm they both had, but I knew that wasn’t true!”

“You know it, little sis! Now let’s head on down the path—we can hit the Research Center next,” Junior declared.

Jasmine sighed. At least when she gave these tours, she had the decency to keep them short. Who really cared about the Research Center besides the Builders and Qi? Maybe Heidi, but only when she absolutely had to.

She was getting tired, and as much as she loved Andy’s siblings, they were becoming a little much. Maybe Andy was home. Maybe he could take them for a bit—or they could all hang out together, just to lighten the load.

“We could stop by Andy’s too, since we’re headed that way,” Jasmine offered.

“Uh… no. We can’t do that,” Junior stuttered, clearly panicking.

“And why not?”

Another red flag. First, they skipped the Blue Moon—their favorite place—and now they didn’t want to visit their brother? Who were these kids, and what had they done with the real Junior and Gem? Something wasn’t adding up, and Jasmine needed to figure out what.

“Junior… where’s Andy?” she pressed.

Junior glanced toward the sky. The sun was starting to dip below the horizon. Pa had taught him how to tell time by its position, and by his best guess, it was nearly eighteen hundred hours.

Which meant it was finally safe to end the charade.

“He’s at the Blue Moon,” Junior finally said. “We can go visit him if you want.”

“Yeah,” Jasmine nodded. “Let’s head that way. I’ve seen enough of Sandrock.”

Cooper strolled back through the doors of the Blue Moon, the centerpiece of the party held proudly in his hands. He was feeling mighty accomplished—not only had he secured a cake for the hunter boys, but he’d also managed to save the one he’d been given.

“Here you go, boys,” Cooper said, grinning wide. “Don’t look at it yet. I want it to be a surprise for after you ask that little lady of yers to marry ya.”

Ma peeked out the window just in time to see her children—and Jasmine—strolling up the porch steps, ready to enter the saloon.

“Everyone get down, they’re almost here!” she called.

She quickly stepped away from the window and moved to Logan’s side near the staircase that led to the rented rooms upstairs.

Everyone in Sandrock had joined the celebration. Trudy ducked behind the counter. Grace and Owen peeked out from the kitchen. Others were tucked in around the dining area, waiting with bated breath. The whole town had shown up—for Andy, for Jasmine. Just like it should be in a place like this.

Logan wrapped his arm around Ma, pulling her close as they both watched Andy step forward, drop to one knee, and open the small box in his hand.

Ma buried herself into Logan’s chest, wiping away a single tear before it could make it all the way down her cheek.

Her baby boy wasn’t a baby anymore. He was a grown man, ready to take the next big step—with Jasmine right by his side. It was everything a mother could ever ask for: just someone who saw the best in Andy the way she always had.

Andy caught Ma’s eye, offering a weak smile. She was crying, and he grew concerned. But Logan quieted that concern with a thumbs-up and a smile.

“She’s fine, partner,” he nodded. “Do yer thing.”

This was it. This was now. This was forever.

The door creaked open, the golden light of the setting sun spilling across the saloon floor. Jasmine stepped in, flanked by Junior and Gem, her gaze sweeping the room.

Her eyes went wide as she took in the sight before her—friends, family, the whole town gathered—and Andy, right in the center of it all, down on one knee and looking more nervous than a yakmel cornered at the moisture farm.

“Jasmine… will you marry me?” Andy asked, his eyes locked on hers, heart caught in his throat.

Jasmine brought her hands to her mouth, trying to stifle the gasp that escaped her lips. Her eyes shimmered, and she tilted her head back slightly, willing the tears not to fall. She was breathless—overjoyed—as she looked down at Andy. Who, for the record, was starting to breathe real heavy now that she hadn’t answered yet.

“Of course, love!” Jasmine cried out, rushing forward and tackling him straight to the floor with all the force of a woman in love.

Andy caught her, wrapping his arms tight around her before falling onto his back. His hand still on the box, he managed to click it shut just before giving her a long, slow kiss on the lips. 

She was his. He was hers. And this—this was just the beginning of forever.

They broke apart briefly, both of them grinning like fools.

“Did you want to put it on then?” Andy chuckled.

“Oh—yeah, geez. Sorry, I kind of got carried away,” Jasmine laughed, rising to her feet and holding out her hand.

Andy stood too, shaking off the last of his nerves. She’d said yes. That was all he needed. He had his hunting, his home—and now a partner through it all. Everything was finally falling into place. For the first time in a long time… he could breathe.

He slid the ring onto her finger. The cool gold slipped easily across her skin, the gems catching the light from the saloon lanterns. They both stared down at it, watching the way it shimmered between them.

“It’s beautiful, Andy,” Jasmine whispered.

“Not quite as beautiful as you,” he smiled.

Jasmine let out a soft chuckle, then leaned in for another kiss—this one met with a chorus of “Awwww!” from the crowd.

Andy and Jasmine jolted apart, both having completely forgotten they weren’t alone.

“Take it away, Coogo!” Owen called, stepping out into the dining hall.

Andy pulled Jasmine close, guiding her onto the floor. One hand rested on her hip, the other locked in her grasp. Her hand slid to his shoulder, and together they swayed, lost in each other, while the quiet strumming of strings and soft piano keys drifted through the saloon.

Logan and Ma, Trudy and Zeke danced nearby, smiling wide as the couple moved through the moment.

It was peaceful. It was full of love. It was everything Andy could’ve hoped for.

That was… until his little brother came barreling across the floor, interrupting the slow jams with all the grace of a stampeding yakmel.

“Let’s get some cake action goin’ on up in here!” Junior hollered.

Ma and Logan pulled away from one another and headed over to the counter to open the box—but froze when they saw what was written on the cake.

That was not Mabel’s handwriting. And that sure didn’t look like a brand-new cake… more like the same one that had been burnt earlier in the day.

“Coop, I thought you said Mabel was gonna fix this,” Logan muttered, brow furrowed as he stared down at the icing.

“Oh yeah, meant to tell ya—Mabel and Elsie went off on some girl’s trip,” Cooper shrugged. “So I took matters into my own hands.”

Andy took a breath. His siblings, the cake, all of it—it didn’t matter. Because he got the girl. And that was all that mattered.

“What’s wrong with the cake?” He asked, walking up to take a look.

And there, in glorious swirls of icing, were the words:

Condraguwations Andee & Gasmin! Wuv, Granpa Kuper

Chapter Text

Epilogue

Andy thumbed the parchment paper for his latest bounty. The only problem was, it wasn’t a local catch—it was somewhere new. Unexplored.

The payout was high. High enough for him and Jasmine to live off for a while. They’d built their home (right next to Ma and Logan), and Jasmine’s publishing house had done well these past few years. They were sitting pretty good now, but a little extra cushion never hurt anyone.

Still… it didn’t feel right. Leaving Sandrock. Leaving her—and everyone—behind just to chase the biggest bounty he’d ever gone after.

“I know you want to,” Jasmine smiled, reaching for his hand and turning him toward her.

“Hi there, sweetheart,” Andy greeted, brushing a soft kiss to her lips. “Shouldn’t you be sleepin’? It’s almost two in the mornin’.”

“Couldn’t. Plus I heard the door creaking. Thought I’d come down and see if someone was breaking in.”

Andy gave a soft chuckle. Even in the early morning hours, his wife was still as sharp as ever.

“I’m serious, Andy. You should go,” Jasmine said, pausing to rest a hand on her stomach. “We’ll be just fine here. We have my ma, your ma, and Logan if we need anything.”

“It just… don’t feel right leavin’ ya here all by yourself.”

“Fine. Then I’m ordering you, on behalf of your very pregnant wife, to take the bounty and come back in one piece.”

“Fine,” Andy sighed, tucking a piece of stray hair behind her ear. “But only ‘cause you asked so nicely.”

Jasmine leaned into the crook of his neck. She’d miss him—of course she would. But she also knew that trying to settle down a monster hunter was a fool’s game. And when you learn to love a man like that, sometimes you just have to respect the life he lives.

“ANDY!!!” Junior shouted, stumbling through the door. “Where ya been, partner?”

Looked like Junior had a little too much yakmel milk at the Blue Moon tonight—no doubt taking after his Pa in that regard.

THUD.

Junior hit the floor with a dramatic flop, a loud, obnoxious snore already escaping him.

“I do have one request, love,” Jasmine said, already tossing a blanket over Junior.

“What’s that?” Andy asked, grabbing a pillow from the couch.

“You take him with you.”