Chapter 3

As Kara sank deeper into the warm water, she let out a contented sigh. Usually she settled for a quick wash with a basin of warm water by the stove, but once a week or so she took the trouble to heat up the multiple pails of water required to fill the tub for a proper bath. The warmth soaked into her tired muscles as she relaxed.

Surviving out here on her own for the past few months had been a challenge, but she'd managed. Getting the house clean and tidy again hadn't required any great skill, but the variety of jobs and foster homes she'd had in the past meant she also had a number of other useful skills. She knew how to light a wood stove and how to sew, how to set a snare and how to fish. She knew how to cook, although her supplies were limited at best.

Fortunately, as spring had turned into summer she'd been able to forage for food in the surrounding woods and fields. She'd even found the descendants of vegetables planted by the previous owner and carefully cultivated them, although she'd been equally careful to leave a screen of weeds in place.

Even though she'd never seen anyone approach the farmhouse, she'd made every effort to keep her presence a secret. She kept all of the curtains closed, even though she longed to throw them open to the sun, and didn't make any changes to the exterior of the building. Despite that, she'd turned this abandoned farmhouse into a cozy refuge. It was a fragile existence, but it was hers, and for the first time in many years, she felt as if she had a home.

But despite everything she'd managed to accomplish, she couldn't escape the loneliness. She missed the comfort of human connection, the ease of shared laughter and conversation. She'd even resorted to spying on the other farms. Several of them were occupied by alien males - an unusual sight outside of Port Cantor and a few of the larger cities - but they went about their business the same as any human. And several of them had human wives.

What would that be like, she wondered. To have one of those big males treating her so protectively?

Given that her experience with human males had been less than satisfactory, the idea of an alien husband seemed even less promising, but the couples had seemed happy enough. She liked watching them, but she'd been discovered once by a small boy who'd decided she must be a fairy. She'd gone along with it, enjoying his excitement, and had given him one of the coins from the small stash she'd brought with her, smiling as he danced away.

But the encounter had made her realize how easily she could be discovered and she'd reluctantly stopped visiting the other farms. Now she had only herself for company. During the day it wasn't bad, but in the stillness of the evening, the only sounds were the soft whirr of insects and the creaks of the old house, and it was a heavy silence.

Suddenly conscious of the quiet surrounding her now, she began to sing softly, a song her mother used to sing to her. Leaning back against the side of the tub, she closed her eyes and let herself recall those distant happy memories. She didn't realize she was no longer alone until a harsh voice growled at her.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

Her eyes snapped open, the song dying on her lips as she took in the towering figure looming in the doorway. A huge, green-skinned alien, his massive frame filled the entire space, his dark eyes burning with an intensity that made her breath catch. A scar cut across his cheek beneath his eye and more criss crossed his arms - his huge, muscular arms - like a topographic map of battles fought and won. She should be terrified, and she was, but there was also an odd flutter in her chest, a spark of attraction that she couldn't explain.

The air seemed to vibrate with tension as his gaze narrowed, his voice like thunder in the small room.

"Get out of my house."

His words dripped with hostility and her heart raced, but she refused to back down. This was her home now, her sanctuary. She wouldn't let this stranger chase her away without a fight. She started to sit up straighter and belatedly remembered that she was naked, automatically trying to cover her breasts although her arm didn't provide much of a shield.

"I was here first."

"I don't give a fuck. It's my house."

"I didn't know that," she said, somehow managing to keep her voice steady despite the tremble in her hands. "I thought it was abandoned."

His expression didn't change, but his eyes seemed to bore deeper into hers.

"Now you know. So leave."

"I'm not ready to leave," she said stubbornly, lifting her chin.

He didn't move but somehow his presence seemed to grow, seeming to suck all of the air from the room. Her throat grew tight as she struggled to draw breath.

"I'm not asking. I'm telling you to go."

The threat was clear but she refused to back down, even as she shrank against the back of the tub, the water cooling against her skin.

"Or what? Are you going to h-hurt me?"

Despite her best efforts, her voice trembled and his frown grew even darker.

"No." He stepped into the room, his head almost brushing the ceiling. "But I'll still make you leave."

She fought to keep from shrinking back any further, refusing to show weakness. Her skin prickled with unease at the anger in his voice. There was so much rage beneath his surface control, a volcano waiting to erupt. But she refused to back down, her determination to stay in her sanctuary - her home - driving her forward.

"I'm not ready to go and unless you intend to drag me out, I'm staying."

"You're not staying here." His face remained impassive, his expression unyielding, but he hesitated, his gaze sweeping down over her body. "But get dressed first."

Her breath caught as an inexplicable wave of heat washed over her in response to that hungry look. Admittedly it had been a long time - a very long time - but there was no way she could be attracted to this huge angry alien. Could she?

Before she could decide he was gone, shutting the bathroom door behind him hard enough to make it rattle in its frame. Her heart sank, her stomach twisting with anxiety. She had nowhere else to go, no one to turn to - she would be back in the exact same place she'd been in when she fled Wainwright.

No.This farmhouse was her only refuge, her last chance at starting anew. She couldn't let him chase her away, not now, not ever. She wouldn't give up, wouldn't let him bully her out of her new home.

A surge of defiance coursed through her veins as she stood, the water in the tub rippling with her movement. She climbed out of the tub, then dried off as quickly and thoroughly as she could with the one towel she'd found. As she began to dress, her hands shaking slightly, she strained to hear any sound from the kitchen or the rooms beyond. Nothing, but the air was thick with tension.

She finished dressing, then groaned as she caught sight of herself in the mirror. She'd found an assortment of discarded clothes in the attic but none of them had been a particularly good fit. The shirt she was wearing had clearly been designed for someone without her generous curves and the button across her chest was strained to the limit. The pants were equally tight and she suspected they'd been intended for a teenage boy.

The outfit was far more revealing than she would have liked. But then again, he's already had the chance to see her in far less. She shrugged and tried to think of a way to convince him to let her stay. With a deep breath, she pushed open the door and went to join him in the kitchen.

The windows in the kitchen had not been covered so she'd left them that way and sunlight streamed into the room. As her eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, she found him at the kitchen table. He looked even larger in the light and more intimidating, frowning down at a huge pile of supplies.

Why was he frowning? She would have given her eye teeth to have had even a tenth of those supplies. She did a quick survey, her mouth watering, and landed on a container of tea.

"Oh, you have tea! I can make us a cup."

His scowl didn't waver as he looked over at her, but she saw his eyes flash down to the generous amount of cleavage displayed by the too small shirt.

"I don't want tea."

Ignoring him, she began rummaging through the cupboards to find the old teapot and a couple of cracked mugs. Despite his denial, he made no attempt to stop her. Interesting. She decided to act as if he'd already agreed to let her stay and gave him a sunny smile.

"Oh, don't be silly! A nice cup of tea can brighten up anyone's day."

When he didn't respond, she chattered on, her words spilling out in a cheerful stream as she boiled water and poured it over the tea leaves. His glower intensified, his eyes fixed on her with an unnerving intensity, but as long as he wasn't physically trying to stop her, she could ignore his displeasure. She poured two cups and placed his in front of him.

"No milk, I'm afraid," she said, giving him another smile which he didn't return.

For a moment, they sat in silence, then she could no longer resist asking.

"I'm Kara, by the way. What's your name?"

He scowled at her, not responding, but she waited patiently, sipping her tea. His expression didn't soften, but he did eventually take a sip of the tea and she beamed, taking it as a small victory.

"One of my foster mothers always said that a nice cup of tea was the remedy for most ills."

Mrs. Martin had been a kind-hearted woman, but not kind-hearted enough to overlook the fact that her husband had noticed Kara's rapidly developing body. She'd apologized to Kara, but she'd still sent her away. Yet another home she'd lost. She wasn't going to lose this one too.

"It's amazing how it can calm the nerves," she said cheerfully. "And –"

He interrupted her, his tone firm. "I don't care about the tea, Kara. You need to leave."

Her heart sank as she studied that implacable face, but she had to keep trying.

"Please," she said, her voice laced with desperation, "let me stay. I'll do chores, keep the house clean, help with the farm work. I'll earn my keep."

His expression didn't soften, but his eyes seemed to bore deeper into hers, as if searching for something.

"Why are you here?" he growled.

"I have nowhere else to go."

She was sure he could hear the truth in her words, but it wasn't enough for him.

"Why not?"

Should she tell him? Could she tell him? What if he insisted on hauling her off to Wainwright and handing her over the law? She took a deep breath, weighing the risks. Maybe, just maybe, she could trust this gruff, imposing alien.

"I was accused of a crime I didn't commit."

He didn't say anything but the massive fist around his mug tightened.

"A man named Lucas Trask accused me of theft to force me into his bed. He was angry because I'd rejected him, but I'm not a thief."

For a moment she thought his face softened, but then he leaned back, crossing his massive arms over his chest.

"That's not my concern."

Her desperation grew. She had to make him understand.

"Please, listen to me. I have nowhere else to go. I have no friends, no f-family. My mother died when I was still a child and since then I've never belonged anywhere. But here, in this house, I feel safe. For the first time in my life, I feel like I can breathe."

His gaze faltered, his eyes darting away from hers. and she thought - prayed - that she'd seen a glimmer of something else, something almost like understanding.

"Please," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Let me stay. I'll work hard, I'll help with the farm… I'll do anything."

An oppressive silence followed, heavy with uncertainty. Then, H'zim's massive frame seemed to sag, his shoulders dropping in a gesture of reluctant surrender.

"Fine," he growled. "You can stay. But on my terms."