Captive

by Cheryl Brooks

  “One of the best days of my life,” Jack declared.

  Cat kissed her cheek. “And mine.”

  A month later, the Tequila Sunrise landed at Nimbaza Spaceport in the hour just before dawn, with no one there to greet them aside from one lone spaceport official. Moe had hoped to get the meeting with Trag over with as soon as they landed, but Klara had been adamant about maintaining the element of surprise. “If my father won’t acknowledge me, I don’t want to know it until I look him in the eyes.”

  Larry’s report of Trag’s skepticism obviously still rankled, making Klara put off the meeting until the very last second, even though it was apparent that she loved the idea of having at least one living relative. Moe knew for a fact that she had seven living relatives, given that Trag and Micayla had produced two healthy litters. They were all younger than Klara, of course, the eldest littermates having turned twenty-two on their last birthday.

  The more Moe thought about it, the angrier he became. How could Trag possibly doubt that Klara was his daughter? To the best of his recollection, each and every one of Trag’s offspring had the same orange streak in their hair. Failing that, DNA testing would prove it absolutely.

  Klara threaded her arm through his and leaned close. “Do you know where he lives?”

  “Yeah. Been there a few times. It’s a long way from here, though. Good thing we’ve got two speeders.” He frowned. “Unless you’d rather the gang didn’t come with us.”

  “No,” she replied. “I need my family around me.”

  Moe didn’t bother to point out that her true family was to be found on Trag’s farm. He knew where her heart and loyalties lay. “You’re with me this time,” he whispered to her as Nevid and Temfilk rolled the speeders from the hold. He motioned for the gang to climb aboard. “You guys just follow us, okay?”

  “Yah, boss.” Lis nodded as he hopped in the pilot’s seat of Klara’s speeder.

  Moe started to protest, but immediately thought better of it, considering the Racks had been the ones to find his own speeder and bring it back to him.

  Temfilk, on the other hand, chose to take exception. “I’ll stick with you and Klara. I’ve flown with Lis at the controls before. No, thank you!”

  Nexbit snickered as he took the seat beside Lis. “Wuss.”

  Temfilk stuck out his tongue in the Norludian version of fuck you. “Hey, I didn’t come all this way just to get my ass killed by a bunch of joy-riding Racks.”

  Nexbit rolled his eyes. “They’re not gonna kill ya. You need to get over yourself.” He patted Lis on the shoulder. “Lis is as good at handling a speeder as you are.”

  Temfilk shuddered. “That’s not saying much. Remember the time I ran us into a stack of rotting—”

  “Yes, I remember,” Nexbit said quickly. “Although I’m surprised you’d bring that up now. I’ve never known Lis to run into anything.”

  Temfilk waved a dismissive hand as he climbed into the rear seat beside Nevid. “Whatever. No offense, Lis, but I happen to prefer Moe’s piloting skills.”

  Lis didn’t appear to take any offense, merely chirping a cheerful, “Yah, boss,” as he started the engine.

  Despite Moe’s running commentary on the various points of interest along the way, Klara was silent during the ride to Trag and Micayla’s farm. She hadn’t asked many questions about her father in the previous month. Now, faced with the imminent meeting, apparently she still couldn’t think of anything to ask.

  Or she was too nervous.

  Or she felt the same simmering undercurrent of anger that he did.

  Nah, probably not.

  Granted, he hadn’t known her long, but to the best of his knowledge, Klara had never bothered to hide her rage. Therefore, her mood was something else entirely.

  He ought to have been able to have some idea from her scent, but the aroma of pregnancy seemed to overpower everything else.

  Too soon—or not soon enough, he wasn’t sure which—he spotted a familiar cluster of buildings in the distance. “Won’t be long now.” He nodded toward the homestead. “Last I heard, Trag’s son was working the farm with him. Along with your father, Micayla, and their younger children, you might actually get to meet one of your eldest brothers.”

  One glance in Klara’s direction proved this wasn’t something she considered to be a perk. “Do you suppose he’ll resent me, too? And what about Trag’s wife and their other children? Will they all hate me? Trag never wanted to consort with my mother, let alone father her children. I’ll just be the bastard half-Davordian daughter he never wanted before and doesn’t want now. This is not going to go well. I can feel it.”

  Moe could also feel something, although it wasn’t a sense of foreboding. Rather, it was a threshold to a better, happier life for all concerned. In his mind’s eye, a clear vision formed—one of a doting Trag with his daughter’s children on his knee and a beaming Klara standing by.

  No, Trag wouldn’t resent her and neither would any of her siblings. Nor would Trag’s wife, Micayla. But, of course, trying to convince someone as stubborn as his beloved Klara was undoubtedly pointless. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see. Won’t we?”

  The sun had already risen by the time they took the turn toward Trag’s home. The fields were still shrouded in the early morning mist, but Moe could make out several figures among the long rows of bushy, low-growing plants. “Looks like everyone is out picking strawberries this morning.” He gave Klara a reassuring smile. “Trag should be in a good mood. Rumor has it that he’s happiest when he’s picking strawberries.”

  Temfilk spoke up from the rear seat. “Looks like a lot of back-breaking work to me.”

  “I dunno,” Nevid drawled. “With those sucker tips on your fingers, you strike me as being a natural-born strawberry picker.”

  “Maybe,” Temfilk said with a snort. “Not sure I want to try it, though.”

  Moe brought the speeder to a stop near the house, which was built in the simple farmhouse style favored by most of the Nimbaza region’s residents. “Ever eaten a strawberry right out of the garden?”

  The Norludian huffed out a breath. “Considering where I’ve spent most of my life, I should think the answer to that would be perfectly obvious.”

  Moe knew for a fact that Temfilk would rather eat fruit than anything, and with acres of strawberries growing all around him, the trick would be getting him to stop before he made himself sick. “Well, then. You’re in for a treat. Might even be worth a sore back.”

  Temfilk unfastened his seat restraint and began popping his fingertips off his cheeks in the Norludian version of grumbling.

  Moe gave Klara’s hand a squeeze as he raised the canopy. “Everyone remember where we parked.”

  Klara rolled her eyes. “Don’t bother trying to make me laugh. Believe me, I’ve never felt less like laughing in my life.”

  Moe knew that was about to change, but simply pointed toward one of the strawberry pickers, clad in a pale green tunic and trousers, the characteristic orange streak in his long, curly black hair clearly visible. “That’s Trag.”

  As they approached, Moe had the satisfaction of seeing Trag’s jaw drop as he straightened to his full height and fixed his gaze on Klara.

  “Mother of the gods,” he whispered. “You look just like Delaroh, only Zetithianized.”

  “You remember my mother?” Klara’s voice was a much higher-pitched squeak than usual.

  “I remember a Terran woman called Delaroh.” Trag grimaced. “At least, I thought she was Terran. Clearly, I was wrong about that.” Cocking his head to one side, he studied Klara’s face. “Never thought I’d ever hear myself say it, but Davordian eyes actually look pretty good on a Zetithian.” Smiling broadly, he spread his arms wide. “Hello, Klara, my lovely daughter. Welcome to the family.”

  Cackling with glee, Temfilk fist-bumped Nexbit. “I knew it!”

  The Racks bounced up and down squealing “Yah, boss” at the top of their tiny little lungs. Nevid simp
ly shook his head and smiled as if he’d predicted the outcome from the very beginning.

  But those celebrations were nothing compared to Klara’s shout of laughter as she raced toward her father’s waiting arms. Warmth enveloped Moe’s heart and tears of joy ran down his cheeks as her newfound siblings and Micayla each hugged her in turn. In that moment, the last traces of his anger faded to nothingness. Only happiness remained.

  Trag kissed his daughter’s cheek one more time before reaching for his gathering basket. “Strawberries, anyone?”

  Acknowledgments

  There were times I didn’t think I would ever finish this one, and the last few paragraphs seemed to take even longer than the two and a half years spent writing the rest of the book. The combined efforts of my writing buddies and a number of my readers encouraged me to keep going when I truly believed my writing days were over. Perhaps that explains why Captive took so long to complete: I was afraid that this truly was my final work. I’m still not sure about that, but for now, I’m doing my best to keep an open mind.

  My heartfelt thanks go out to:

  My wonderful critique partners, Nan Reinhardt, TC Winters, Sandy James, and Lynne Greeley.

  My awesome beta reader, Mellanie Szereto.

  My loving family and all the critters who live with us on the farm.

  My loyal readers who have stuck with me for a very long time.

  Also by Cheryl Brooks

  Cat Star Legacy: Maverick

  Cat Star Legacy: Mystic

  Out of Bounds

  Echoes From the Deep

  Dreams From the Deep

  Justice From the Deep

  Cowboy Delight

  Cowboy Heaven

  Must Love Cowboys

  Unbridled

  Uninhibited

  Undeniable

  Unrivaled

  The Cat Star Chronicles: Slave

  The Cat Star Chronicles: Warrior

  The Cat Star Chronicles: Rogue

  The Cat Star Chronicles: Outcast

  The Cat Star Chronicles: Fugitive

  The Cat Star Chronicles: Hero

  The Cat Star Chronicles: Virgin

  The Cat Star Chronicles: Stud

  The Cat Star Chronicles: Wildcat

  The Cat Star Chronicles: Rebel

  The Cat Star Chronicles Bundle: Slave, Warrior & Rogue

  Sex, Love, and a Purple Bikini

  Midnight in Reno

  Pontoon

  If You Could Read My Mind (writing as Samantha R. Michaels)

  Double Desire (Sharing: Sextet Anthology)

  A Delicate Procedure (Entanglements: Sextet Anthology)

  Windfall (Occupational Hazards: Sextet Anthology)

  Angel on Broadway (Mistletoe & Ménage: Sextet Anthology)

  The Boys in the Band (Dirty Dancing: Sextet Anthology)

  Small, Medium, & Large (Sextet Presents)

  The Lady Takes a Pair (Sextet Presents)

  A Tale of Two Knights (Sextet Presents)

  About the Author

  A native of Louisville, Kentucky, Cheryl Brooks is a former critical care nurse who resides in rural Indiana with her family and an assortment of animal friends. She is the author of the Cat Star Chronicles series, the Cowboy Heaven series, the Soul Survivors trilogy, the Unlikely Lovers series, and several stand-alone books and novellas. Captive is the third book in her Cat Star Legacy series. Her other interests include cooking, gardening, and soap making. Cheryl is a member of RWA and IRWA. You can visit her online at www.cherylbrooksonline.com or email her at cheryl.brooks52@yahoo.com.