Chapter Two

“ This ,” Verity replied, “is my son, Brody.”

The happy smile had slipped off Mike Fury’s face, and he glowered at her son like the child carried the plague. She’d been sweating over the revelation during the harrowing ride from the intake center. What if her husband-to-be rejected her because she had a child? What would she do?

“You never said you had a child.”

The best defense was a good offense. “Did you bother to read the fine print in the contract?” she prevaricated brazenly and set her son on his feet. Although he was small for his age, he was still too heavy for her to hold for very long. He skirted behind her leg, peeking out. He wasn’t normally shy, but the whole experience had overwhelmed him. She wished she could hide with him. Fury was an appropriate surname. He didn’t shout, but anger sparked in his blue eyes, tightened his mouth, and stiffened his posture .

“I’m Phibious, the foreman.” A green alien stepped forward, his gilled face wreathed with good cheer. “Welcome to Haven Ranch!”

Brody’s eyes widened like flying saucers. She’d talked up the move, the spaceship flight, the chance to see extraterrestrials, trying to prepare him. He’d been excited at the prospect of seeing his very first aliens, but the reality had been a little scarier than he’d envisioned.

“Thank you. It’s good to be here,” she lied politely. If there’d been any other choice, she never would have come, but to protect her son, she’d do anything—even marry him . She snuck a glance at Fury. He’d wiped away the anger, but the blankness told its own story.

“Juju didn’t come with you?” Phibious asked.

“Tomorrow,” said Gozar, the driver.

She questioned where he’d learned to drive—at a bumper-car arcade perhaps? The way he’d careened across the tundra had made Brody sick. He’d thrown up all over himself twice. She’d cleaned him up as best she could. Fortunately, she’d packed a spare jacket. The ride had made her a little queasy, too. Anxiety hadn’t helped. Until now, she’d pretended the situation would work itself out. When they got here, Brody’s presence would be a fait accompli, and Fury would have to accept the situation. However, she’d run smack into hard reality—he could send her packing for bad faith and misrepresentation.

“Who’s Juju?” she asked.

“The Cosmic Mates’ wedding officiant,” Phibious replied. “Normally, couples get married at the intake center before reporting to their work assignment locations, but since your arrival got delayed, and Mike preceded you, Juju agreed to come here.”

“My son got sick a couple of times and couldn’t travel, or I would have been here sooner,” she explained. Would Fury even follow through and marry her now? Her stomach roiled. She had to explain to him why she’d lied.

Phibious winked. “The prospect of shopping at the mercantile offered an added incentive. We have one of the best stocked stores around.”

That was good to know—assuming they’d be staying. Fury hadn’t spoken a word since his initial outburst. What the hell is that? You never said you had a child.

“She had a rather large group to marry at the intake center today,” Gozar explained before striding to the rear of the conveyance. Huffing and puffing, he dragged out her trunk .

“Be—”

He let it fall.

“Careful,” she said. She hoped nothing got broken, but she couldn’t blame him. It had taken two men to load it into the vehicle. Bigger than her coffee table and packed full, the trunk weighed more than seventy kilograms, over 150 pounds. She’d brought mostly their clothes and toys for Brody, but her grandmother’s figurines were inside. To come here, she’d had to divest herself of nearly everything she owned, but she hadn’t been able to part with those.

“Well, then,” Phibious said. “I’ll escort you to your domicile, but first, let me point out some stuff. You’ll find most services along this strip. You’re standing in front of the office. This is where you’ll meet Juju to get married.”

Maybe. Could Phibious sense the tension between her and Fury?

“The laundry is in this strip—there’s a fee, of course. I mentioned the mercantile—that’s the blue building. The green one”— he smiled at Brody—“is the school and day care center.”

“H-how many kids?” Her son spoke up for the first time.

“Twelve. You’re number thirteen! ”

Lucky thirteen. “Any humans?” she asked.

“Nope. He’s the first Earthling child. We don’t have many humans here at all. Just you three and Honoria Foster and Jason Steel. I guess you can count Maven. She’s half human.

“Honoria and Maven work at the mercantile. And, speaking of jobs, the yellow building is the infirmary where you’ll be working with Dr. Twygg. He’s thrilled to have you join us. He’s been requesting a nurse for a long time. Normally, we give people a full day to acclimate, but Dr. Twygg desperately needs help, so you start work tomorrow. Technically, it will be an orientation day—but I can’t promise there won’t be an emergency.”

Maybe she would start work tomorrow. She might be booted off Refuge. Anything but that. If Fury rejected her, maybe she could file an appeal, claiming severe hardship. But everyone who came to Refuge dealt with some adversity, or they wouldn’t have applied. In hindsight, she realized she should have sought sanctuary on its own merits, especially since they needed nurses so badly, but she’d been scared to death asylum requests would be monitored. The Dorns had connections. A mother and child seeking asylum would have sent up red flags. A single woman applying to a matchmaking service, not so much.

“The big building at the far end”—he pointed—“is the mess hall where you’ll take your meals, unless you wish to buy groceries at the mercantile and cook your own. Adjacent to the mess is the meeting hall for public gatherings, and beside that is the bunkhouse for singles.

“Grab the trunk. I’ll show you to your cabin now.”

Fury didn’t say a word. He slung a duffel over his shoulder and then, to her jaw-dropping surprise, hoisted her massive trunk onto his shoulder without even a grunt.

“I, uh, can take your bag,” she offered.

“Follow Phibious,” he said.

At least he hasn’t rejected me yet. She took her son’s hand as the foreman led them through a break in the strip of buildings. Conscious of Fury behind them, she felt his gaze on the back of her head. Except for powerlifters, she’d never seen a man carry that much weight with such ease. Although big and tall, he didn’t look like a muscle-bound, bulky weight lifter, but she couldn’t tell because of his heavy coat.

Her first impression had been of a celebrity-gorgeous man. For an instant, she wondered if he was somebody she should have recognized, like a famous actor. He had hair the color of saffron, baby-blue eyes, pearly-white teeth, and a panty-melting dimpled grin.

Then she’d dropped her bombshell, and he’d changed in a snap. The smiling man had morphed into a different person. Someone hard, cold…almost…dangerous. She prayed she was wrong, that she imagined the lethal aura because under no circumstances would she place her son in any danger. But where would they go? What would they do?

She shook off her fears and tried to pay attention so she wouldn’t get lost. They had entered a neighborhood of prefabs, each cabin identical—a cube with a porch, solar panels on the front-to-back sloped roofs. The setting sun had colored the white units blush pink.

Walking paths divided the rows of houses, about ten units on a “street” with a pass-through down the middle of the neighborhood. The foreman turned down the center, hooked a left, and stopped at a cabin. “Home sweet home.”

Down the middle. Second row, on the left corner. She memorized the location. She would have to teach Brody. She didn’t anticipate him running around by himself until he got older, but he needed to know where they lived. Hopefully, this is where we live.

Their apartment on Earth had been small, furnished with secondhand finds, but she’d fixed it up to be homey, cozy, and cheerful. Up close, this cabin appeared even more blah and starker than it had at a distance, but it had one major benefit—it sat a parsec away from Earth. The unit reminded her of a blank slate, like it wasn’t finished yet, an apt metaphor for people seeking a fresh start.

They followed Phibious up two steps to the tiny porch. A bin of dark-brown bricks sat next to the door. “What are these, Mom?” Brody picked up a brick.

“That’s an herb cake,” Phibious replied.

“If you eat it, why is it outside?”

Fury snickered.

“It’s not for eating—but for heating,” Phibious explained. “It’s grass, wood dust, and horniger dung.”

Dung as in… “Drop that!” she said.

“What’s dung?” He set it in the bin.

“Animal shit,” Fury supplied.

“Ew.”

She glowered. Did he have no concept that he was in the presence of a child? He might resent her, but couldn’t he have the decency to watch his language ?

“Don’t touch anything until you wash your hands,” she said.

“Let’s go inside so I can explain a few things.” Phibious marched into the cabin. When they were all in, he pointed to an arched opening in the back wall. “The washroom is through there.”

She went to check it out and have Brody clean his hands before removing his coat. The jacket had to be cleaned, but at least it was his vomit all over it and not animal shit . “Do you need to use the toilet?” she asked her son.

“No.”

“Okay. I do. Wait for me outside. Don’t touch anything,” she repeated. Who knew what other surprises he would find? Who expected to find a bin of animal shit on the porch? We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto.

She let her son out and then used the commode. Washing her hands, she stared at her reflection. Ugh. Speaking of shit—she scowled at her appearance. The conveyance had been drafty as hell, and exposure to the wind and cold in the compound had turned her cheeks bright pink. Fatigue and worry had drawn dark circles around her eyes. She looked like a clownish raccoon. So much for making a good impression. She pulled off her woolen cap. The top half of her hair stuck to her scalp. Hat hair. Great.

Men had considered her attractive—at least on her good days. She must have been to have drawn Kyle Dorn’s attention, but today wasn’t a good day.

She’d intended to look her absolute best when she met Fury, but climate and circumstances had thwarted her. She’d been informed they’d be landing during the “warm” season. To her shock, it had been cold and blustery. Fortunately, she’d been able to get to their warm clothes in the trunk.

Did her appearance matter? It wasn’t like she could mitigate her omission by batting her eyelashes. You blindsided me with a kid you failed to mention, but you’re not ugly, so it’s all good.

She finger-combed her hair and went to face the music.

Arms folded, Fury leaned against the wall. The foreman, his posture much more relaxed, stood beside him. Her son sat on a loveseat. She’d rushed him into the washroom so fast, she hadn’t paid attention to the interior. Now, she took it all in, in a single glance. Other than the sofa, so short the three of them would have to squish together to fit at the same time, the only other furniture in the room was a small square table and three chairs. Some cabinetry, a flash cooker, and a cooler completed the kitchenette. An ugly black stove stuck out against the “living room” wall. She supposed it was used to bake herb cakes.

“We’re ready.” She shrugged out of her coat and draped it over a kitchen chair then carefully laid Brody’s soiled jacket, dirty side up, on top of it.

“Good,” Phibious said. He ducked outside and returned with an herb cake, which he carried with tongs. “The cabin runs on solar energy, but we don’t get a lot of bright sunlight. It’s cloudy most days. To conserve the solar batteries, we heat the cabins with herb cakes.”

He opened a door in the stove, shoved the brick inside, and then lit it with a striker he extracted from a drawer. “That’s all there is to it. The herb cakes in the bin should last a week. You can purchase more at the mercantile. You were given a pay credit card, right?”

“Yes.”

“You have enough credits for food to tide you over until your first payday. Of course, Mike has been here for two pay periods, so he should have a surplus.”

As if I’d ask him for anything .

“Meals at the mess cost three credits for dinner, two for lunch, and one for breakfast. Child meals are one credit.”

“Mom, I’m hungry!” Brody said.

Phibious chuckled.

“In a little bit,” she said. It was past his dinnertime.

“Any other questions?”

“What time do I start work?”

“The infirmary opens at zero nine hundred, so then I suppose. You can work it out with Dr. Twygg. The school opens at zero eight thirty. Which reminds me, I’ll find out when Juju is arriving to perform the ceremony, and I’ll send word. It will probably be in the late afternoon. “Sound good?” Phibious asked.

She nodded.

Fury shrugged.

She bit her lip. “What, um, would happen if the marriage didn’t occur?”

“Since your pending marriage factored into your asylum, your sanctuary would be revoked. For both of you.”

Anger sparked in Fury’s eyes before he blanked it out .

That got a reaction. Her lies could jeopardize them both.

“If there are no other questions, I’ll let you get on with your lives,” the foreman said and left.

“Moooom, I’m hungreee.”