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  Lynx, as always, chewed and swallowed his food almost before he could taste it—which was normally the best way to choke down things that were barely fit to eat—but, this time, what lingered on his tongue made him wish he could have started over again. This woman had given him something he’d never tasted before; something rich and delicious, unlike the garbage he’d always had to live on. He stared at her blankly, not quite believing his eyes as she held out her hand again.

  “Here,” she said, giving him four more of them. “Have some more, and help yourself to some juice, too. It's made from last year's apples. Not as good as fresh, of course, but not bad.”

  As he took the small treasures from her, Lynx's first thought concerned where he would put them to keep them safe. “Where will I sleep?” he asked.

  Bonnie didn’t know what that had to do with juice and cookies, but thought perhaps she’d missed something. “Wherever you like,” she replied.

  “Then I will sleep in the other building.” It was large, it was private, and, most importantly, away from her scent, which was already beginning to alter subtly.

  She was pretty sure he didn’t mean the henhouse. “The equipment shed? Are you sure? It's not very homey.”

  “It will be quiet,” he said, as though that were his only requirement. When he took his cookies and left, Bonnie assumed that he didn’t want to eat them in front of her, but he was gone a long time—much longer than it would have taken anyone to eat a few cookies.

  Long enough for her to doze off, too, despite the fact that her arm and shoulder were still stinging and throbbing. It was late afternoon when she awoke, and she wondered if he’d asked where he would sleep and then went and took a nap himself, or if he’d just taken the cookies and left altogether. It didn’t really matter, except that someone needed to feed the enocks. Bonnie tried sitting up and didn’t feel too bad—at least she didn’t faint—and her arm hadn’t bled through the bandage. It was only then that she noticed that he’d wrapped it up with a dish towel.

  Moving slowly, Bonnie made her way out to the kitchen and saw that, while the blood was all cleaned up, Lynx was nowhere to be seen. She thought he might have been in the shed, but when she looked out, she saw him over by the enock pen, building a fence.

  He was nearly finished with it, and it didn’t take her long to figure out his plan. All he’d done was build a small pen that shared one panel with the original, and he was in the process of pulling off the boards between them when she went out. As she watched from a distance, he replaced the boards with poles that could be slid aside to connect the two pens. Then he put food in the new pen and pulled out the poles. As if on cue, the enocks came strutting through the opening. He slid the poles back into place, neatly trapping them in the smaller pen. Then he went around to the main gate and, completely safe and unmolested, went in to gather the eggs. That done, he came out, pulled out the poles, and headed back toward the house without a scratch on him.

  And all Bonnie wanted to do was to kick herself for not thinking of it first.

  Chapter 2

  LYNX HAD BUILT MANY FENCES IN THE PAST AND, AFTER finding some materials in the shed, had set about making enock raising a little safer. He had seen firsthand what the giant birds could do to a person and decided that some modifications were necessary. It was a simple solution, which made him wonder why a pregnant woman wouldn’t have done it herself. Perhaps she was lazy, he decided—in keeping with the women he’d served. They never did anything for themselves if they could get someone—such as him—to do it for them.

  Bonnie, however, was no stranger to hard work, and knew that Lynx must have been working like a little fiend. He’d set five or six posts and nailed up the panels between them, which was a lot of work for one afternoon, especially after the walk from Nimbaza and only a few cookies to eat. Bonnie didn’t even know if he’d drunk any of the apple juice, and though he did have access to water from the pumps to the well, there had been plenty of things he hadn’t seemed to understand, so he might not have known what the pumps were for.

  Bonnie fed the chickens and went back to the house, noting that Lynx had put the eggs in a crate on the porch, and she put them away in the storage unit until market day. This was another nice thing about enock eggs; they kept well, and their flavor actually improved after a week or so.

  Lynx wasn’t anywhere in the house, and when Bonnie looked out, she saw him washing up at the pump by the shed. He had taken off his shirt and appeared to be tanned, as though he was accustomed to working outside without one. She stood there, watching him, wondering about his life. She knew where he was from originally, but where had he been since the war? Who had owned him, and who had finally set him free? Watching his impassive, enigmatic face, Bonnie had an idea that she might never know the answers to any of those questions.

  She was thinking about checking her arm when he came up to the door and knocked.

  “I see you’ve been busy,” she commented as she let him in. “That feeding pen was a truly brilliant idea!” She grinned at him in what she hoped was a friendly, appreciative manner. “You’re hired!”

  Her smile was wasted, because Lynx didn’t bother to smile back. “I came to check on you,” he said flatly, “but you were gone.”

  Since the henhouse was on the opposite side of the house from the shed, it wasn’t surprising that he hadn’t seen her, but she didn’t understand why it would make him snap at her. “I just fed the chickens is all,” she said, trying to ignore the little twinge of pain near her heart. “I’m feeling a lot better now, but I do want to work on this arm.”

  Lynx didn’t say anything, but just stared at her with his big yellow cat's eyes. He’d already told her what he thought about her needing to see a doctor and saw no need to repeat it.

  Avoiding his angry glare, she went on to explain, “I’ve got a thing that's supposed to seal up cuts, but I don’t know if I can do it left-handed. Don’t know why I didn’t think of it earlier. Jack sold it to me along with the ointment, but I’ve never used it.”

  A black-tipped eyebrow went up.

  “Think you could help me with it?”

  Lynx nodded in reply, so Bonnie went off and found what she was looking for at the back of a shelf in the bathroom closet. It was called “Seal ’n’ Heal” and the directions on it were simple enough: “Power on. Scan area to be sealed four centimeters from source. Power off. Do not use on eyes.”

  Bonnie went back out to the kitchen and handed it to Lynx, who examined the device with a natural curiosity about such things. Slowly unwrapping the towel, Bonnie took a peek at her arm. “Well, that looks downright gross,” she commented. Holding up her hand with her thumb and forefinger four centimeters apart to demonstrate, she said, “Scan it this far from the skin.”

  Lynx was skeptical, but he did what she told him, and the results were nothing short of amazing. Bonnie could feel it stinging just a little, but the gaping skin edges magically closed and were now held snuggly together. “Well, I’ll be!” she exclaimed. “I never thought it would work so well! Would you do the place on my shoulder, too?”

  Pulling her arm out of her sleeve, she turned around. She couldn’t see it, of course, but once Lynx sealed it, the pain diminished immediately, and after applying the ointment, she felt almost good as new. She marveled at the magic of it and wondered why she’d never used it before. She hadn’t paid much for it, but decided that Jack must have really thought she needed the little gismo, because, now that she’d used it, it was obvious that Jack hadn’t charged her anywhere near what it was worth. “Well, then, guess I’ll fix supper now,” Bonnie said brightly. “What would you like?”

  Lynx didn’t reply, being totally confused by her question. What would he like? He had no idea what to say to that, since he’d always eaten whatever he could find. Choice had never been a factor; in fact, he didn’t even know what sort of food he did like.

  Still having no idea why he never answered her questions, Bonnie shook her head, sa
ying grimly, “Never mind, I’ll come up with something.” Gesturing toward a chair, she said, “Just have a seat. This won’t take long,” and got started. Her arm seemed to be working just fine, but, not wanting to push her luck, she simply grated some onions and peppers in the processor and then fried them up along with some scrambled eggs— chicken eggs, this time—and some cheese. When it was done, she dished it up and set his plate in front of him, along with a couple of pieces of buttered toast and a glass of juice.

  Pulling up a chair, Bonnie sat down and dug in. It was good and hot and she was as hungry as an enock. After a few moments, though, she noticed that Lynx hadn’t touched his but was staring at the plate of eggs as though it might bite him.

  The smell of hot food drifted up to Lynx's sensitive nose, making him feel dizzy. What a heavenly scent! He wanted to devour it but remembered the woman sitting across from him. He couldn’t take a bite with her watching; he refused to be laughed at again—or to give anyone the opportunity to do so.

  “Oh, don’t tell me you’re a vegetarian!” Bonnie groaned. “You aren’t, are you?”

  Lynx shook his head, but Bonnie wasn’t sure whether he knew what she’d meant by that or not.

  “Well, then, go ahead and eat it,” she said irritably. “You will eat more than cookies, won’t you?”

  He nodded, but said, “I cannot eat it here,” which seemed a bit bizarre to her, until she remembered the way he’d turned away when he’d eaten a cookie.

  “Thanksgiving must have been real interesting at your house,” Bonnie remarked dryly.

  Lynx didn’t understand her remark and looked at her questioningly.

  “Never mind,” she said with a wave of her hand. Though she did her best to brush it off, she was hurt that he wouldn’t even share a meal with her. If nothing else, it seemed very snobbish of him. “You can eat it wherever you like.”

  Appearing greatly relieved, Lynx picked up his plate and glass and left the house. Bonnie comforted herself with the fact that he was an alien—and while she’d heard of some odd alien customs, this one was right up there with some of the strangest. She wondered if Cat would eat in the same room with Jack and decided that perhaps it was something you could only do if you were married.

  In a way, the idea made her jealous of Cat and Jack, who seemed like the happiest couple in the galaxy. Apparently Bonnie wasn’t deserving of that kind of happiness, because it sure as hell hadn’t happened to her yet. Like most of her boyfriends, Sylor had been handsome and charming, though in retrospect, she couldn’t honestly say that she’d loved him very much, and had been more irritated than heartbroken when he left her. Lynx, on the other hand, was very attractive, but he wasn’t charming at all, although it might have just been because he was a stranger to her. Lynx hadn’t wanted to work for a woman, and it was obvious to Bonnie that he already thought she was a foolish idiot. The trouble was, they were sort of stuck with each other—for a while, at least—because she needed help, and he needed a job.

  Still, Bonnie wished they could at least become friends. She missed having someone to talk with, though given his dislike of sharing a meal with anyone, it was fairly obvious that they wouldn’t be having much in the way of dinner table conversation. It made her feel even lonelier than she’d been before he came. Maybe it's my short haircut he doesn’t like, she mused, though Jack's hair was short, and Cat didn’t seem to mind. Cat himself had long, beautiful hair hanging in shiny, black spirals down to his waist, making him appear dashing and sexy. Leo's hair was also very attractive, and she liked him, too, but in a sort of different way. He was more reserved than Cat, but you could tell he loved Tisana with all his heart—maybe it had something to do with Tisana's long, dark hair and bewitching eyes…

  However, in contrast to the other two Zetithians, there was nothing the least bit dashing or sexy about Lynx; in fact, he seemed intent on being nondescript and invisible. He was very thin, and his hair color was as neutral as the clothes he wore. Aside from the typical Zetithian features, the only things about him that were remarkable in any way were his eye color—which wasn’t something he could change—and his black-tipped eyebrows. He was by no means unattractive, but so far, his personality wasn’t what Bonnie would have called endearing.

  But perhaps she wasn’t being quite fair to Lynx. He’d come here intending to work in the mines, didn’t seem to like being around women, and he’d wound up working on a woman's farm. In such a situation, Bonnie thought she might have been a bit surly herself and hoped that he would lighten up after a while.

  While she ate her dinner, she kept thinking about him; why he might have acted the way he did, what horrible things he’d been forced to endure, all the while feeling odd little waves of sadness—tiny twinges near her heart that made her want to cry. Lynx had a certain aura that hung about him like a cloud of despair. He shouldn’t have been feeling despair, because Bonnie knew she would pay him all she could and wouldn’t work him to death, either. Food was plentiful, so he need never go hungry. Aside from that, there wasn’t much more she could do for him. He didn’t seem to want to talk— not even wanting her companionship—and love wasn’t something he would ever want from her, which was no hardship, because she didn’t think she could give it to him anyway.

  But I can give him something soft to sleep on! She put her dish in the sink and went in search of some spare bedding. Gathering up all the blankets and sheets she could find—what he didn’t need in the way of covers, he could use to pad the floor—she carried them out to the shed. Having him sleep out there hadn’t been her first choice, but if that was what he wanted, she would do her best to see that he was comfortable. She smiled ironically, as the pillow she chose to give him was the one Sylor had always slept on. Lynx could rip it to shreds with those fangs of his, and it wouldn’t matter to her; she had no use for it now.

  Chapter 3

  AS THE JOLLY ROGER LEFT ORBIT OF HARABBA FIVE, Captain Jacinth “Jack” Tshevnoe sat alone in the cockpit, tapping the console to adjust their flight to Terra Minor. Unlike the barren rock they’d just left, Terra Minor was a pretty planet when viewed from space, all green and blue with swirling clouds—like many others, perhaps, but even the shape of the continents was interesting. One reminded Jack of the shape of a dog—sort of like Tisana's black hound, Max. She looked forward to seeing that world again and visiting with its inhabitants.

  As though he heard her thoughts, Max padded over to place his head on Jack's knee. As Tisana was always in mental communication with her pet, Jack figured Max already knew, but she told him anyway.

  “Hey, Max!” she said brightly. “We’re going to Terra Minor! You’ll get to see Kipper again.”

  Max gave a muffled bark. He knew to keep his voice down, because Jack didn’t like loud, sudden noises. It made her react as if the Nedwuts were firing on them. Max hated Nedwuts and wished he could have done more to help Jack fight them, but the hairy, snarling beasts were more than he could take on alone. Not that he hadn’t tried.

  In the past, as an honest trader, Jack had never had to fight any battles in space, but harboring a Zetithian was something the Nedwuts apparently considered to be an open declaration of war. After teaming up with Cat, Jack had equipped her ship with weapons, which put them on more even footing, but didn’t guarantee their safety. Jack didn’t mind the expense or the danger, though. She loved Cat enough to fight for him, and she wasn’t about to let a bunch of slimeball Nedwuts interfere with her life. The way she saw it, anyone who threatened Cat got blasted. Period.

  Jack had never asked any of them how much the bounty was on a Zetithian—she’d never left a Nedwut alive long enough to answer any questions—but it must have been a huge amount to keep them out there hunting. The information that the Nedwuts had been responsible for destroying the entire planet of Zetith had spread, with the result that they were refused landing permission on most worlds, but there were still quite a few of them lurking around some of the seedier planets. Jack tended to avoi
d regions of space where Nedwuts were known to congregate, but you never knew when a pack of them might decide to get adventurous, so she stayed ready with the sensors always on the alert.

  Setting the autopilot, Jack leaned back and absently petted Max. What would her life be like without Cat? Not worth living, she decided—though she did have her three sons to think of. She’d have to keep on going for them, but having loved a man like Cat was guaranteed to make any other man seem pale in comparison. She’d lived a long time without a man, and now, she knew she could want no other—and she wanted him all the time.

  Following the trail of his wife's scent, Cat stole softly up behind Jack just as he had done the first day he spent on her ship. He’d been naked and chained then, but he’d been drawn to her like a magnet. He remembered the feeling of utter loss after she’d purchased him at auction, then freed him and left him in the plaza. She’d asked if he would try to escape if she removed his restraints, and he’d been dumb enough to say what any self-respecting slave would have said: “I am a slave and a prisoner. I will attempt to escape”—and she’d believed him! Hadn’t she seen the effect she had on him?

  But Cat knew very well that his Jacinth was impulsive, and though tough and determined, there was a vulnerable streak in her, one that he’d unknowingly hit upon. The way she’d tried to resist him had been pointless, because he could smell her desire for him, and it was strong—strong enough for him to pick up her scent, even on the stinking hellhole that was Orpheseus Prime. Her face had been covered by the respirator she wore to shield her from the stench, but while everyone else had assumed she was male, Cat had known the difference. There had been something about the way she spoke to him that set her apart, and he’d fallen for her completely, without even being able to see her face.

  He still recalled the questions she’d asked him— details about himself that no one else had ever even thought to ask. She didn’t know him at all—he’d been chained like an animal and put up for sale to the highest bidder—and yet it had been so obvious that she cared about him—where he had been, how he had come to be a slave, and why she’d never heard of his planet.