“No, go on back to bed. Whether Jerden had anything to do with it or not, I’d still bet a million credits Danuban went back to him.” Surveying the paddock with her flashlight, she could see the deep hoofprints outside the fence. The ground was soft enough that he’d left clear tracks leading off to the south—straight toward Jerden’s house. “I’ve been around horses a long time, but I’ve never seen one get so attached to anyone before. It’s kinda spooky.”
Zatlen didn’t argue. “Think he’ll bring him back?”
Sara sighed. “He did it once. I guess he’ll do it again.” She nodded toward the fence. “I suppose we’ll have to put another rail up all the way around.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to just leave him there and have Jerden bring him over when we need him? I mean, there are only three mares left to cover. After that, we won’t need him again for another year.”
“Unless someone else wants to breed their mares to him.” Sara heaved a weary sigh. “It may come to that eventually, but for now, let’s at least
try
to keep him here. I didn’t have him imported all the way from Earth for him to live with Jerden.” She snorted a laugh. “It’s like getting a mail-order bride delivered only to have her marry someone else.”
Zatlen quirked an eyebrow. “A mail-order bride? That sounds pretty barbaric.”
“Yeah. Tell me about it.”
There had been plenty of men Sara could have married if she’d wanted a man in her life. There were many immigrants to Terra Minor who advertised for wives or husbands in lieu of a job. She realized that some had simply been unable to find work and were trying to avoid deportation any way they could, for the laws on Terra Minor were very specific. Immigrants had to have money to buy land or start a business, or they had to find gainful employment within a specified length of time. Otherwise, they were deported. The tracking implants inserted in the base of the skull of every immigrant ensured that the Trackers could find them. Second-generation residents and Zetithians were exempt from these laws, but there still weren’t many bums around. Marriage to a current citizen, however, was a free ticket to remain on the planet.
“Well, good night, then,” Zatlen said. “I’ll get to work on the fence in the morning.”
Sara nodded and headed back to the house. The crescent moon didn’t offer much in the way of light, but her eyes had adjusted enough to see. She switched off her flashlight as she crossed the stable yard. As she walked, her gaze drifted southward, toward Jerden’s place. Though the house wasn’t visible from where she stood, she could see the mountains rearing up in the distance and knew that at the base of the foothills were a lake and his home. Two days ago, she’d never given him a thought. Now their paths seemed destined to cross on a regular basis.
“This will work out somehow,” she muttered as she went inside. “Everything always does.”
Sara tried to focus on what Bonnie had said about Jerden—how he’d been through hell. She didn’t want to be rude or hateful to him, but how far did she have to go to be nice? He hadn’t seemed very friendly either time she’d seen him. And he’d said, what—two sentences to her? Unlike many men she’d known, Jerden wasn’t one to complicate matters with a lot of chatter, something she had to admit she found refreshing.
Too bad it wasn’t his normal behavior. Given his previous occupation, Jerden was bound to have been the smooth-talking Don Juan type, and if there was one thing Sara couldn’t stand, it was a man feeding her a line of bull.
Nate was a prime example. They’d met for the first time at a meeting of the Nimbaza Horse Breeders Association, and the sound of his voice was like fingernails on slate even then. Though she’d done her best to avoid him ever since, he seemed oblivious to her attitude toward him.
Jerden, on the other hand, hadn’t elicited that immediate, negative response, despite the fact that he had possession of a horse whose arrival she’d been anticipating for nearly a year. After all, it wasn’t as though he’d stolen him. The stallion had
chosen
Jerden. Admittedly, she might be a little jealous, but she wasn’t annoyed—at least, not yet.
She was still thanking her lucky stars that she’d found the horse at all. There were plenty of predators on Terra Minor, and though there were few that could outrun a horse, Danuban could have easily been injured to the point that he might have fallen prey to a flock of enocks. The carnivorous ostrichlike birds were a danger to the unwary, though, thankfully, they tended to hunt much smaller prey. Still, they’d been known to attack a full-grown human when cornered. Bonnie and Lynx had captured a large flock, and though they’d made a tidy sum on the eggs they sold, as dangerous as the big birds were, most of the region’s settlers avoided them.
Sighing, Sara kicked off her boots, stripped off her jacket, and crawled back into bed. No, she wasn’t annoyed with Jerden yet. However, if past history was any indication, she probably would be tomorrow.
Just as he had done on so many other nights, the stallion woke Jerden from his nightmare with a ringing neigh at the window. Jerden had actually gone to bed this time, something he hadn’t even attempted in weeks. Whether he’d been feeling better that evening or not, he should have known it wouldn’t work. Sleep never did. The best he could say was that he hadn’t resorted to drugs or alcohol. No one could accuse him of losing himself in the scents of other women, either. He didn’t overeat, nor did he starve. Vigorous, relentless exercise was the only thing that helped stave off the dreams. That and the stallion.
Getting up from his bed, he crossed to the window. “Go home. Sara needs you more than I do. I can run the hills until my muscles scream. Then I can sleep. You don’t need to monitor my dreams.”
Which was what the horse seemed to do.
The
horse.
“I’ve got to ask her what your name is. I’m sick of thinking of you in such an impersonal way. I need to connect, need to feel, need to know. I’m so tired of not knowing anything.”
As before, the nightmare had sent him sinking back into the abyss, splitting his mind apart. Despite the fact that he was awake, his nerves were still on edge. “Leave me alone and don’t come here again!” he shouted. “I can’t
do
this! I need something else! I need to be able to fuck again so I can go back to the Palace and live out my life as a fuckin’ man-whore. It’s all I’m good for.”
No, that isn’t true.
He could do plenty of things. Raise horses. Hell, he could raise dogs and cats. He seemed to be well on the way to doing that already. There were tons of them around, just waiting for a bit of animal husbandry. Even this thought didn’t stop the howls of anguish rising from his chest. Cria stood with her back arched and her hair standing on end. The dogs outside were restless and whining.
“I can’t do this anymore!” he bellowed. “For God’s sake, someone help me!”
His plea went unheard by anyone who could answer him. In desperation, he stormed out of the house. The stallion was standing by the porch as always, and Jerden swung up onto his back without a thought, his salvation as elusive as ever. Turning his head toward the mountains, he thought to ride up them, but the stallion ignored him this time. The great beast spun on his haunches and leaped forward, racing around the lake and up the hillside in the direction of Sara’s house.
Jerden made a few feeble attempts to turn him using his seat and legs, but the horse plunged onward through the night. Finally, weaving his fingers through the long mane and melting into the stallion’s back until they became one being, Jerden simply let him run, sweeping across the open field like a wildfire.
Skirting the fences, they came clattering into Sara’s stable yard and rode right up to the house. His limbs no longer obeying his mind, Jerden slithered from the horse’s back, falling in a nerveless heap on the back porch. Shouts rang out from the barns. He’d managed to awaken just about everyone, including Sara. The door flung open and she stepped out into the darkness.
Moments later, her hands touched him, and he felt life and fire and purpose flood his being. “Are you all right?”
Jerden couldn’t answer. He was beyond knowing. Beyond thinking or speaking. Her eyes gleamed brightly in the moonlight and her face was softer than he remembered, as though the moon had washed over her skin, leaving her unearthly and ethereal.
Reaching up, he touched her cheek.
Help me.
The others gathered around. The Norludian was the first to speak. “What should we do with him?”
“I’ll take care of him,” the Rutaran volunteered. “He can stay in my room.”
Sara spoke again, seeming not to have heard the Rutaran’s offer. “Zatlen, you and Drania put Danuban back in his paddock. Reutal, help me get this man inside. I don’t know what his problem is, but I can’t leave him lying on the porch.”
The sound of Cria’s purring filled his ears as she nuzzled his neck. As always, she had followed him.
Cria…
Jerden knew he’d said the leopard’s name aloud, or tried to, but the attempt failed, just as it had done when he’d begged for help. No sound, barely a breath issued from his lips. He was dying.
Finally. Thank all the gods above.
Despair and misery filled him again and he was lost, bereft of hope and of joy.
When her hand gripped his, he felt lighter. She lifted him so easily, the Norludian must’ve taken hold of his feet to assist her. She wasn’t that strong. Or perhaps she was. He knew nothing about her, except that her touch was feeding his spirit with strength while it sapped his ability to move.
What
an
odd
contradiction.
He couldn’t say it aloud, and even though he felt like laughing, once again, no sound passed his lips.
Is
this
insanity?
His body swung to and fro as he was carried across the threshold. Light hovered above, seeping past his eyelids to pierce his brain like a blade. It hurt. He needed darkness; something to shroud him from the light.
Shroud.
That was the right word. He was already dying, or insane, needing either restraints or a shroud. Sara probably had all kinds of leather. She could tie him down before he hurt anyone.
Pain.
Great waves of it deluged him with its horror. He hadn’t been injured, but every muscle and joint was on fire with it.
Why
is
there
so
much
pain?
“Here, on the bed,” Sara said. She wasn’t panting with the effort, nor was she groaning under his weight.
She
must
be
very
strong.
Jerden sank into the cool sheets, feeling partial relief, yet he was still unable to move or open his eyes. A cool hand rested briefly on his forehead. “He’s burning up. I’d better call Vladen and hope he isn’t on the far side of the territory.”
Another finger touched his arm, igniting a new focus for the agony. “Think he’s got the flu or something?”
“No idea,” Sara replied. “Vladen will know if there’s anything going around.”
Vladen.
Jerden remembered the name. He was the regional physician who had pronounced Jerden fit and healthy upon his arrival to Terra Minor. He was an odd sort of fellow, but then, Levitians usually were, and his peculiar sense of humor was something Jerden was in no mood for. Besides, he didn’t need a doctor. He needed a priest or a holy woman to help his spirit cross over to the great beyond.
Smooth fur brushed against his hand, accompanied by vibrations that penetrated clear to his bones as the contact grew stronger
. Cria.
She hadn’t left him. Who would care for his animals when he died? That was one concern he didn’t need.
Bonnie, perhaps?
She was very kind and had all sorts of animals on her farm. He wouldn’t have to tell anyone to do it. She would do it whether he asked her to or not.
As Jerden’s mind registered that this was no longer a problem, Reutal spoke again. “Do you need me for anything else?”
“No, go on back to bed for what’s left of the night.” Sara’s sigh conveyed some sort of emotion.
Irritation? Resignation?
Jerden couldn’t decide which. “Looks like tomorrow is gonna be a
very
long day.”
The Norludian’s flipper-like feet made slapping sounds on the smooth floor as he left the house. A door closed. Now, only Cria’s purring was audible. Until she started growling.
“I’m only going to call the doctor. You can keep an eye on him until I come back.”
Sara’s tone was much more soothing than it had been a moment ago, but who else was there with her in the house? Then as Cria licked his hand, his fevered brain registered that she had been talking to the big cat. She probably talked to animals as much as he did.
We
have
so
much
in
common.
The irony almost made him laugh, except that, as before, his body wouldn’t respond. Helplessly paralyzed, he had no idea why he couldn’t move. He only knew that he must be lying naked on Sara Shield’s bed.
And the possibility of making love with her was about as likely as a hailstorm in space.
With the sound of Sara’s retreating footsteps, Cria’s touch became lighter—or was it simply that he couldn’t feel it anymore? For one brief instant before darkness engulfed him, he knew he was correct.
***
Sara was still shaking. She’d done her best to remain calm—something she normally had no problem doing in a crisis—but the beseeching look in Jerden’s eyes had struck a chord with her unlike anything she’d ever felt before. It was almost as though their souls had touched.
She shook her head, banishing the thought. Souls didn’t touch or connect or any of the mumbo jumbo mystical nonsense that people wrote sonnets about. It simply didn’t happen. It was a trick of the moonlight, or a feeling of compassion, no more.
That’s what Ebenezer Scrooge thought.
Sara stomped her foot in protest. “I am
not
being visited by ghosts. And I am
not
like Scrooge. Besides, that was fiction.”
If there was one thing Sara prided herself upon, it was being firmly grounded in reality. There was a simple, rational, logical explanation for everything. Granted, there were aliens with strange powers, but those abilities were natural for them. In Sara’s opinion, humans who claimed to have supernatural talents were just plain lying. The feeling she’d had was probably brought on by the lack of sleep, for which the man now resting on her bed was largely responsible.
That sounded odd. Men were not normally anywhere near her bed, for any reason whatsoever, and she liked it that way. Giving herself a mental shake, she went into the living room and tapped the comlink pad to call Vladen.
A few moments later, the Levitian’s image popped up on the screen. He appeared to be fully awake, but his bright blue eyes looked tired and his short blond hair, which normally stood straight out like the bristles on a hairbrush, was lying flat on one side. “And here I thought I was going to get to sleep the night through for the first time in weeks.” Sighing, he ran a hand over the bony ridges along his jaw. “What’s up, Sara?”
“I’m not sure,” she replied. “Jerden Morokovitz just rode up on a horse and then collapsed on my porch. I don’t know the normal body temperature for a Zetithian, but he feels hot to me.”
Vladen snickered. “They’re
all
hot, Sara. I’m surprised you had to touch him to realize that.”
Sara rolled her eyes but didn’t laugh. She’d never felt less like laughing in her life. “Would you mind telling me what their normal temperature is, or would you rather come and see him for yourself?”
“Don’t need to. Zetithians are better at healing themselves than anything a mere doctor can do. Just put him to bed and let him sleep for a day or two. He’ll wake up good as new.”
“A day or two?” She was beginning to wish she’d left him on the porch. “I’d like to get a little sleep myself.”
Vladen wasn’t stupid. He knew precisely what she’d done with him. “You just snuggle up beside him. He won’t bite if he’s asleep, and you’ll keep each other nice and warm.”
“Maybe I could sleep on the couch.” She’d have slept in a second bedroom if she’d had one, but her house was a simple one-story cottage with only a small attic and a basement for storage.
“No need for that,” Vladen said briskly. “Just cover him up and leave him there. He won’t bother you. His heart rate and respirations will slow way down, but that’s normal. And don’t worry about him wetting the bed. They never do.”
This was a problem Sara hadn’t even considered yet, but, since most of the galaxy’s remaining Zetithians lived in his territory, Vladen obviously knew what he was talking about. “But what about that big cat of his? She followed him into the house and is sitting right there beside him, licking his hand and growling at me.”
Vladen appeared to consider this for a moment. “Well… you
could
treat her for fleas, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
She snorted a laugh. “I’m
worried
about getting eaten alive—and
not
by fleas!”
Vladen was patient but firm. “Now, Sara. You know a lot about animals. If she’s protective of him, then don’t act like you’re trying to hurt him and you’ll get along fine.”
Sara took a deep breath. Part of Vladen’s ability to tend to the medical needs of an entire region was in knowing when to act and when to take a wait-and-see approach. In his eyes, this was clearly not an emergency. “Okay. ’Nuff said. I’ll keep him warm and his leopard fed.”
“You do that.” Vladen yawned, revealing double rows of sharply pointed teeth. “Meanwhile, I’m going back to bed.”
“Good night, and thank you.”
“No problem. Feel free to call me again if you get worried.”
After terminating the link, Sara returned to her bedroom to find the leopard lying on the floor beside the bed, purring contentedly, the tip of her tail twitching in a lazy rhythm. Jerden lay right where she’d left him, flat on his back, the contours of his perfect body accentuated by the pale moonlight. Both he and the cat seemed harmless enough at the moment, but one glimpse of him made her heart start pounding again. Vladen may have been reassuring, but he hadn’t known anything about
that
part of the problem.
Having grown up with two younger brothers, Sara had never shared a bed with anyone—let alone a man who was essentially a stranger. Fortunately, snoring wasn’t an issue; Jerden’s respirations were so shallow, the difficulty would lie in determining whether or not he was breathing at all. He could die during the night and she’d never know it. Lying down next to a strange man was one thing. Waking up beside a dead man was quite another.
Oh, just crawl in beside him. It’s no big deal…
Reutal would have a field day with it, though. That he hadn’t made any suggestive remarks when they’d hoisted Jerden onto the bed was nothing short of a miracle. Then again, he was probably saving up a whole slew of comments for tomorrow.