Chapter Sixteen

One week later

Hand in hand, they strolled toward the meeting building. Brody, ever a bundle of energy, charged ahead. The week since consummating their marriage had flown by, each day bringing deeper intimacy and joy. Verity had never been happier. Cautious with her emotions, she didn’t get serious quickly, but the heady, walking-on-air euphoria sure felt like love. She’d often pooh-pooh the concept of soul mates, but she had no other way to describe the intensity and depth of their connection. They clicked. Many evenings after work and dinner, while sitting together and reading, they’d exchange a meaningful smile, and her heart would swell almost to the point of bursting.

And the late nights? Nirvana. The more they got to know each other, the better the sex got—and it had started out damn hot.

Most importantly, he was patient with Brody, providing the masculine presence and attention her son had lacked. For a man who hadn’t wanted kids, he was a natural dad, offering a perfect balance of encouragement, support, and discipline. Brody adored Mike. In her son’s eyes, the man was a superhero who could do no wrong. And her son brought out her husband’s lighter, playful side. Some of her favorite moments were watching the two of them at mealtimes, cracking up so hard they snorted water through their noses.

She loved how her husband and son interacted.

Right now, she loved that the library had a Saturday kids’ program, giving her and Mike several hours all to themselves.

“Any thoughts about what you’d like to do today?” she asked.

“Uh-huh.” His lips twitched, but he said nothing else.

She waited. “Care to tell me more?”

“How about a ride out on the range?” he asked. “I’ve run across some pretty cool scenery I think you’d enjoy seeing.”

“That sounds like fun. The conveyance isn’t going to break down, will it?”

“One little snafu,” he said.

“A little snafu that made you late for our wedding. And it’s one plus one, which equals two.” After the broken axle incident, another ranch hand had been stranded when his conveyance ran out of power. Solar vehicles had a very limited range, and you had to plan for the return. On cloudy days—which most of them were, including today—the solar cells couldn’t charge fast enough.

“I’ll ensure it’s charged. Don’t worry. I promise we’ll get back.”

Brody impatiently bounced on the porch of the gathering hall. In the open space between the meeting place and the adjacent bunkhouse, she noted three four-legged stanchions with a short vertical beam at one end as well as a ring of big rocks that hadn’t been there before.

Mike opened the door, Brody skipped inside, and they followed him to the library.

“Howdy, lil buckaroo!” Dusty, in full-cowboy regalia, waved him in. He would be speaking on, “ From Cattle Drives to Desperados, Tales from the American West on Earth .”

About half of Brody’s class was present. She recognized Firbol and Bob. Of course, they were hard to miss. “How long do you expect this to take?” she asked Dusty. How much time do we have to be alone ?

“I reckon ’bout four hours . I’ll chew the fat for a while, then we’ll rope a few steers, then rustle up some vittles and cook ’em over the campfire,” he said.

Hence the sawhorse-like frames and the ring of rocks.

“Thanks, Dusty,” she said. This program had come at the right time.

“You stay at the library until we come get you,” Mike instructed Brody.

“Give me a kiss,” she said.

“Mommm,” Brody muttered and jerked his head at the other kids.

“Sorry. Go. Have fun.”

He ran off to join the other kids, and they left the library.

On the porch, Mike snagged her around the waist, pulled her close, and planted a long, warm one on her mouth. “You can kiss me anytime.” He winked. “It won’t embarrass me.”

“He’s growing up.” She sighed.

They set out for the paddock. “I hope we can get a conveyance,” she said. When the wagons weren’t in use for ranching, residents could borrow them, first come, first served .

“Since I put dibs on one two days ago, I think we can.”

“You planned that far ahead?”

“Further. Why do you think Dusty is doing this kids’ program?”

“You put him up to it?”

“He’ll jump at any chance to jaw on his favorite topic. Dusty is more excited than the kids.” He laughed.

She slipped her arm through his. “It’s still very nice of him, and you went to a lot of trouble to arrange it.”

After checking on the location of the hornigers, they climbed over the fence. A conveyance sat beside the barn. “You care to see the calf before we go?” he asked.

“Yes, I would.” Her son still raved about it.

He led the way into the barn. “Demon, the horniger we’re trying to break, is often in that stall”—he pointed—“but he’s out to pasture today. We keep him inside enough to get used to people then move him outside for exercise. The baby is over here.” He marched down the center aisle.

A fuzzy, hornless six-legged creature snuffled in a stall filled with dried grass. Other than six legs and a long snout, it looked very little like the adults, lacking the distinctive nose horn and antlers. It toddled up to the gate. Mike reached over and patted its head.

“He’s adorable!” she exclaimed.

“She. Her name is Annie Oakley.”

She chuckled. “Let me guess. Dusty?”

“You got it.”

She scratched the animal behind its floppy ears. She’d believed Mike when he’d said the baby horniger had posed no danger to her son but seeing so for herself further reassured her. The animal was as friendly as a puppy—a pup the size of a full-grown Great Dane.

Outside, Mike hopped behind the wheel of the conveyance, and she slid into the cab next to him. A winged alien opened the gate, and he set out across the grassy plain. In the open, the wind kicked up and whistled across the vehicle.

There wasn’t much to see—just open tundra, a few rolling brownish grass-covered hills dotted with roaming hornigers. The animals were as prevalent as the buffalo had been in the Americas until European settlers decimated the herds. Thus far, the colonists seemed to be better caretakers of the natural resources. But Refuge’s history was still young .

“I assume you have a specific destination in mind?” she asked.

“I do.”

“Care to give me a hint?”

He grinned. “No.”

“No?”

“It’s a surprise.”

He’s full of surprises today. The lengths he’d gone to floored her. She’d had no idea the man she’d married was such a planner. But then, they were still learning about each other. They were in the rosy honeymoon stage. No doubt they would encounter bumps in the road, but she was confident they would sail through the storms and come out ahead because they’d started out with a strong foundation. They shared the same goals, the same values, similar temperament. Their refugee status gave them something in common. Mostly, they shared the same vision of the future.

“Cosmic Mates did a fantastic job matching us,” she said.

“I’m glad you think so. Hang on!”

“What-why—Mike!” She squealed and grabbed for the hold bar as he gunned it, and the conveyance flew across the grassy plain. His gleeful laughter reminded her of Brody when something tickled him. The vehicle hit a tiny bump and temporarily became airborne before landing with a bounce. Men are just grown-up little boys who like to go fast. “Now I know how you broke an axle!”

He glanced at her, grinning.

“Keep your eyes on the road,” she cautioned.

“What road?”

He had a point. Laughing, she clung to the bar. “You must have attended the Gozar School of Driving.”

“I want to get where we’re going faster so we’ll have more time to spend there,” he said reasonably. “Do you want me to slow down?”

It was kind of exhilarating to fly across the tundra, racing toward a surprise. Since becoming a mother, she’d always chosen the safe, practical route. Why not let loose? Enjoy. Feel. Be. “No. Can you go faster?”

Cheeks dimpled. “Hang on.”

They’d sped across the tundra for about fifteen minutes when the flat terrain took on an incline that turned into a series of slight rolling hills. He reduced the speed. The grass became patchier, the ground rockier, and he slowed to a crawl. She clung to the bar as the vehicle bounced along, hoping they didn’t hit a rock. If they were going to break an axle, this was how they would do it.

“We’re almost there,” he said as they started up a rather steep hill. They crested the top, and he braked. “Ta-da!”

“Oh my gosh!” Partly shrouded in patchy fog lay a valley, at the bottom of which jewel-toned pools of water bubbled. Hot liquid from the planet’s core hit cold air to form the clouds. The minerals in the rock colored the water in shades of blue-green and violet. “It’s a hot spring!”

“I thought we could take a dip,” he said. “Hot springs are quite ubiquitous on this planet.”

A huge, heated aquifer existed under the planet’s surface. The availability of instant hot water provided a huge boon to a cloudy planet relying on solar for power. Solar barely served the energy needs of the sparse population, hence the use of herb cakes for heating. Given the breezy climate, windmills might have been an option, but like most nation-planets, Refuge banned them due to the danger they posed to wildlife. Windmills had caused the extinction of many species of birds, bats, and other flying creatures before the interplanetary community outlawed them.

“Yes!” She bounced on the seat and kissed him .

He started down the slope, driving slowly to give the wheels purchase and avoiding a slide. A few stalwart tufts of grass broke through gaps in the rocky terrain. As soon as it leveled out, he stopped the wagon, and they got out.

“It’s warm!” she exclaimed, shedding her heavy coat and tossing it on the seat of the cab. In the valley, shielded from the wind, with the heat rising from the pools, the mineral-scented air felt balmy. The water bubbled invitingly. “I assume it’s not boiling, or you wouldn’t have suggested a dip.”

“It’s quite pleasant.”

Three irregular-shaped pools met in the middle, forming a kind of three-leaf clover. She moved toward the water.

“Be careful on the sharp rocks,” he warned.

Devoid of vegetation, even a single blade of grass, the solid rock terrain on the perimeter of the pools was jagged and uneven except for a flat area encircling the water. “It’s smooth next to the pools,” she observed.

“Erosion. A geyser erupts periodically, and the pool overflows,” he explained.

Slipping off a shoe and sock, she dipped her toes into the water. Bath water—complete with bubbles. “Perfect. We should have brought— ”

He pulled two bath sheets from behind the seat of the cab.

“Towels,” she finished. “You really did plan for everything.”

“Tried to.” He carried them over and dropped them on a nearby dry, flat rock.

“Don’t suppose you brought any swimsuits?”

“Nope,” he said cheerfully.

“You’ll do anything to get me naked.”

“Like you said, I tried to plan for everything.”

She laughed, shed her clothes, and slipped into the water, groaning with pleasure. They had a small bathtub at the cabin, but for expediency, she showered. I’ve been missing out. But still, a bath at home could not compare to the sensual pleasure of skinny-dipping in a balmy grotto. She found a natural ledge to sit on. Frothy water swirled around her shoulders.

Mike disrobed and padded to the pool, his erection bobbing. She wiped her hand across her grin. Getting naked had factored into his plan.

“Hi.” He sat next to her.

“You’re amazing. Thank you for this.”

“Well, I’m hoping there’s something in it for me, too.” He leered .

“We can work something out.” She straddled him. His erection thrust against her abdomen. Resting her forearms on the pool’s edge, she pressed her lips to his. He wrapped one arm around her back, and he cupped her breast with the other hand. She never imagined she could be so happy, that life could be so idyllic. She had more than she ever dreamed of.

* * * *

After making love, they relaxed in the pool, Verity sitting between his legs, her back to his chest. They talked a little, but words were unneeded, the silence imbued with contentment and post-coital bliss.

Finally, she sighed. “I’d better get out for a bit. I’m getting pruney.” She held up her hand to display wrinkled fingers and climbed out. The air felt chilly in contrast to the hot water, and her nipples beaded from the cold, but she knew she’d warm up.

He followed her out of the pool, and she handed him a towel. After blotting the wet ends of her hair, she spread her towel on the rock and sat down, hugging her knees. “Too bad we didn’t bring a picnic lunch.”

“Yeah, that would have been perfect, wouldn’t it?” He spread his towel beside hers, but instead of sitting, padded toward the conveyance .

Nice ass. He had tight, high buns. He epitomized streamlined, masculine perfection, muscular without being bulky, broad shoulders arrowing to slim hips in the classic V-shape. Nature rarely achieved such perfection, yet Mike had no physical flaws at all. His handsomeness was a little daunting because she had plenty of imperfections.

By her observation, people tended to hook up with mates of comparable attractiveness—money, of course, altering the paradigm. Ugly rich men would always attract and get beautiful women. Verity considered herself on the attractive side of average, but Mike was out of her league. He was gorgeous. In the real world, he wouldn’t have glanced at her twice, except circumstances and Cosmic Mates had put them on the same path.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Getting our picnic lunch.”

“You’re kidding! You brought us a lunch?”

He grinned and pulled a basket from the wagon bed. Returning, he tromped over the jagged rocks without so much as a wince.

“Doesn’t that hurt? ”

“It’s sharp, but I don’t pay any attention.” He settled on his towel, and, with a flourish, whipped a checkered cloth from the basket and spread it out.

“Flat bread.” He extracted a smaller basket of ground, baked grain squares. “Cheese substitute.” He set a yellowish round next to the bread. “Fruit.” There were two varieties of sweetish alien produce. “And…the pièce de resistance…” He pulled out a bottle.

“Wine? You got wine?” Her jaw dropped.

“It did not originate from grapes, but Maven assured me it is the fermented juice from some kind of fruit. She and Honoria helped me put together the picnic. I figured you’d enjoy a break from horniger or egger, something more akin to what you had on Earth.”

She fanned her face to stave off tears. He planned a romantic date. The most romantic, thoughtful date she’d ever been on. Never had a man gone to such trouble for her. “I can’t believe you did all this!”

He produced a couple of stemmed glasses and a cheese spreader. “Wine?”

“First, this.” She kissed him long and slow. “You are so amazing. I love you so much.” Her eyes widened. His widened, too. She hadn’t meant to say that yet but didn’t regret it. The love was new, fresh, exciting, not yet mature, but given time it would deepen. It felt right to express her feelings.

“Do you mean it?” he asked hoarsely.

“I do. And not just because you surprised me with a wonderful naked picnic.”

“I love you, too.” He dropped his gaze and clutched a wineglass so tightly she feared he might snap the stem. He swallowed and then met her eyes. “Have you heard of Solutions, Inc.?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“That’s the company I worked for. That I served. They made me—”

She blinked at the abrupt change of subject. “You want to talk about your former job…now?”

“It’s the last thing I want to talk about. I love you so much, but before you fall in love with me, you should know about my past, what I am, what I’ve done.”

“I know what you are.”

Expression wary, he cocked his head. “You do?”

“You’re a loving husband and a patient stepfather who went out of his way to do something sweet for his wife. You’re steadfast, dependable, hardworking, and open-minded. Even though you got cheated out of what you wanted, you kept your end of the bargain. ”

“I wasn’t cheated. I hit the jackpot,” he said.

She took the goblet from him before he snapped the stem. “I don’t need to know about your past.” Yes, she was curious. Who wouldn’t be? And, at some point in the future, if he told her, she would listen. However, she didn’t need to know today when an obviously difficult topic might mar the beauty of the moment. “We came here for a fresh start. Everyone has a past. I married a man, not an angel, and I’m good with that—I’m thrilled with that.”

“But—”

“But, how about some fermented alien juice?” She held out the goblet she’d pried from his hand.

He hesitated but then opened the bottle and poured blue liquid into her glass and then some into another for himself.

“A toast.” She raised her goblet. “To naked picnics, fresh starts, and new love.”

* * * *

She didn’t understand. She thought she did, but she didn’t. The truth would change the way she felt about him.

Tell her. Tell her.

Courage deserted him when he needed it most. He’d geared up for this all week, planning the hot- spring date to convey how much she meant to him, hoping it would mitigate the impact of his confession, but the situation was bleak. How could she love a cyborg who’d killed people? He’d renounced his past, but while he could change himself and the future, the past could not be altered. His actions would forever stain his character.

Would it be so terrible if he never told her? She’d insisted their relocation to Refuge meant they had a fresh start. What if he just went with that? They could have a full-and-happy marriage, raise Brody, enjoy their lives. He had the normal wonderfully average life of a human he’d always dreamed of. More than he’d dreamed of—he had a family. He had friends—Steel and Dusty.

Why wreck it when his marriage was going great?

Was it because down deep, he believed he didn’t deserve to be happy? Probably, but Verity and Brody deserved the best. They enjoyed security and peace of mind on Refuge—which his confession could jeopardize. Maybe the best course would be to devote himself to ensuring their well-being. The guilt he carried would be his penance.

Fury clinked his glass to Verity’s. “To your happiness.”