Take Her to HeVan

by Lucy Kelly

  A pattern was set from that first day. Marla would wake him up with the scents of food cooking in the kitchen. Then she would bring him a tray and sit with him for a few minutes before going back to work. He would make his way to the bathroom and perform some stretches. Then, tired from the exertion and full of good food, he would fall asleep again.

  Chapter Three

  The next morning, dawn was just breaking when Karlo woke up again. His headache was finally gone and even the aches and muscle spasms he’d been experiencing had stopped. He wouldn’t let Marla keep him in bed for another day; he was ready to start being a help to her. He still didn’t remember anything about his past. Everything he’d seen still seemed wrong and unfamiliar.

  What he did remember was everything Marla had said to him from the time he’d first awakened in her grandfather’s bed. One of the things she told him was that strange things had been happening around the ranch. It was her reason for carrying around a shotgun. Those things had ended up costing Marla money—money she couldn’t afford to keep paying out.

  He would make sure nothing else occurred to harm the ranch or Marla. The first step was getting out of this room and convincing Marla that he was well enough to help. She had been adamant he stay in bed all day yesterday. He would be just as adamant that he was now able to work. Throwing back the covers, he got out of the bed and strode naked to the bathroom.

  After showering, he returned to the bedroom to dress. Now that he thought about it, if he had shown up to stay for a couple of weeks, where was his luggage? Looking around, he spotted a duffle bag in the corner of the room. Walking over, he picked it up and put it on the bed. The bag didn’t open with a zipper; it was sealed using Nephilim technology. Karlo opened it without even giving it a thought. Inside were lightweight Nephilim work uniforms. After wearing heavy suits designed for walking in space, a warrior needed something lighter to change into. This is what Karlo found when he opened the duffle.

  A part of his brain recognized the clothes, though he didn’t recognize them as belonging to him. Pulling out the pants and shirt, he also found a grooming kit and other standard items. Everything looked familiar; he knew what each one was and what it was used for. What struck him as he was halfway through his grooming routine was that his clothes and standard grooming tools didn’t have the same sense of wrongness everything else had.

  “Well, it’s my stuff, isn’t it?” he rationalized.

  He hoped he remembered who he was soon. Images and voices would flit through his head. When he tried to grasp one of them, his head would start pounding so much, he couldn’t think.

  *****

  Marla took her cell phone with her on her rounds. She wanted to call Mr. Edwards, her grandfather’s and now her attorney. She didn’t get a chance to call yesterday since she was too busy around the ranch and looking after Karlo. It was too early to call him at the office, so she dialed his home. At times like these she was happy to be living in a small town.

  “Hello?”

  “Good morning, Mr. Edwards, this is Marla Jones. I’m sorry to call you at home,” she said.

  “That’s alright, Marla, don’t you worry about it. What can I do for you?” he asked.

  “Well, as you know, I only have nine weeks and four days to get married. I’ve gotten my guy and he’s willing to sign a pre-nuptial agreement. I was hoping you could draw one up for me,” she said.

  “What do you know about this man, honey?” he asked her.

  He knew she was all alone in the world now, and he felt almost like a substitute parent to her.

  “He’s a pilot and a scientist. He’s taking some time off work to help with the ranch. Not a geeky guy, he’s tall and strong,” she said, describing him.

  While Paul Edwards listened to Marla’s description of the man she was planning to marry, he also listened to what she didn’t say. The tone of her voice changed when she talked about the man. He hadn’t heard about her meeting anyone. He was surprised she had fallen in love with someone so quickly. This man would have to be someone special after her negative relationship with Jake O’Brien. Still, he was happy the man was willing to sign a pre-nup.

  “That’s fine. He sounds very nice. I’ll start drawing up an agreement this afternoon. When are you planning on getting married?” he asked.

  “I’d like to get married as soon as possible. With the deadline looming, it’s important for me to have this taken care of so I won’t have to worry about something happening. How long will it take you to get the pre-nup ready?” she wanted to know.

  She couldn’t explain to her lawyer that she needed to get married before her fiancé regained his memory.

  “Oh, I should have something for you by Friday. Let’s plan for you to come by the office at three,” he said. They chatted a little about what the pre-nup would entail. Too much discussion wasn’t really necessary, though, because Mr. Edwards was already familiar with the assets of the ranch, her grandfather’s will, and also Marla’s personal assets. He wanted the time to make sure the language was airtight so Marla wouldn’t risk losing the ranch. Sometimes women in love made big mistakes around men. His job was to protect her interests, and he took his job seriously.

  “Great, we’ll see you there,” she said.

  After hanging up her cell, Marla had one less worry on her mind. Good thing, because this morning she had a new one. When she went to open the gate to let the animals out of the small corral into the larger pasture, she saw something shiny out of the corner of her eye. She turned to get a closer look. Scattered around were small pieces of twisted metal. If the alpacas stepped on those, they could be seriously injured because the bottoms of their feet had soft pads like a dog or cat. She got a bucket and started picking them up. She spent an hour walking the pasture to make sure there was nothing on the ground to harm her animals. She was about to open the gate when Karlo arrived.

  “I’m feeling much better, no headache at all. Just don’t ask me any personal questions,” he joked to let her know he still couldn’t remember anything. “So what can I do to help?” he asked.

  “I was just about to let the alpaca out of the corral and into the pasture. As they pass through the chute between here and there, I check them over from head to toe to make sure they don’t have any health issues I need to deal with. If there’s no problem, they go through the second gate into the main pasture. If I spot something, I loop them back toward the corral using this corridor,” she said, gesturing to the side.

  Alpacas were accustomed to being outdoors in all weather and only needed a three-sided structure to stay out of the worst rain or snow. Their shed was located in a small corral of about five hundred square feet. There were three gates into the corral, one led into a gated aisle about fifteen feet long. At the end of the aisle were two gates, one into the large pasture and one into another aisle that looped back to the corral’s second gate. One person could easily move the alpacas into the pasture while segregating any animals that were ill or injured. The third gate was on the side of the corral near the house. She used it for bringing in new animals, hay, and removing dung.

  “I’ll watch and help wherever you want me to. You’ll have to train me because I have no clue what I’m doing,” he said.

  He watched as she opened the gate and walked halfway down the aisle. A few of the alpacas followed her. He watched as she checked over the first two. And if his eyes wandered from what she was doing to her body—well, he was a man after all. He really liked her curvy shape and was pleased that even with no memory of their past, he still wanted her. He was so entranced with the shape of her ass as she bent over he wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings. He heard a sound and then something hit him in the back.

  “Hey!” he shouted, turning around.

  Marla stood and looked over and started laughing.

  “Oops, I guess you didn’t pay attention,” she said, trying not to laugh as Karlo twisted and craned his neck in an attempt to see what had hit him in the b
ack. “Alpacas chew a cud, and when one of them gets mad at another one, they spit. They generally don’t spit at us so you must have gotten in between them at the wrong moment. You need to watch them.”

  Marla couldn’t say anything else for laughing. While Karlo was twisting and reaching to get the wad of cud off his shirt, he stumbled between the two alpacas, getting nailed again. This spit bomb hit him just below his belt buckle. It was too much for Marla. She fell on her ass she was laughing so hard.

  Karlo decided the safest place was next to Marla, so he ducked to avoid additional spitting and jogged across the corral and through the gate to where she was still laughing.

  “I’m glad you’re getting so much enjoyment out of this,” he said as he pulled her to her feet.

  “I’m sorry, it’s just that…the look on your face,” she said before she went into another round of laughter.

  After a few minutes she got herself under control. She bent her hands and used her wrists to wipe her eyes.

  The spitting incident broke the ice between them and the morning chores went much faster after that. The two of them talked back and forth, Karlo asking questions and Marla more than happy to share her knowledge with someone who was really interested in her ideas.

  “If you have fifty acres, why do you have so few alpaca?” Karlo asked her.

  They had returned to the house for lunch. Karlo was sitting at the kitchen table as Marla washed her hands at the sink.

  “I’ve always had animals growing up. I belonged to FFA, that’s Future Farmers of America and 4-H, which stands for Head, Heart, Hands, and Health. Both are organizations for developing youth. I’ve raised pigs, cows, and sheep. I liked the sheep because I didn’t have to sell it for meat. For my whole life, I’ve known this land would someday come to me. Raising animals for food has never really interested me. The sheep were close, but they’re not just used for wool. After researching various textiles, I decided on alpaca. With alpaca, the best traits are inherited, which means the animals with the best genetic history are expensive. Eventually, I want to be a breeder so I’m building my herd slowly.”

  She walked over to the fridge and pulled out the lettuce and several other vegetables. Then she went back and pulled out other items.

  “Wash your hands, then you can chop up the salad ingredients while I heat up the soup and make the sandwiches,” she added.

  Karlo, who had once again become entranced by the shape of her ass as she bent over digging things out of the fridge, didn’t immediately answer her. He replayed her words in his head.

  “Oh, yeah, sure, no problem, just tell me what to do and I’ll do it,” he said, moving to the sink.

  After she’d gotten him started, she continued with her story.

  “I got my first alpaca just before my grandmother died. She was as excited as I was to start using the fiber. She taught me how to knit and weave. I added one animal each year and each year I paid to put the mature females to stud. I thought my grandfather understood what I was doing, he asked questions about the business. I thought he could accept this as a workable future. In the last two years of his life my grandfather sold off all his stock, he raised cattle. There were a lot of medical bills for both my grandmother and him. So he didn’t leave me much money. The ranch is free and clear though.

  “Because of the will, I had to stop building the herd. Until I know I’m going to be staying here, I can’t really build up my stock,” she explained while working on the soup and sandwiches.

  The kitchen seemed much smaller sharing the counter space with Karlo. Marla didn’t mind though. They were getting along really well and, for the moment, she didn’t want to do anything to jinx it. In a couple of days they were going to be signing the pre-nup and then driving to the courthouse to get married.

  She stole another glance at Karlo before turning her attention back to the stove. She could hardly believe she was actually going through with this. Was she really so desperate to keep the ranch? If she didn’t marry, she’d still get the money from the sale. It wouldn’t be home though. Even though he was dead, she really wanted to prove to her grandfather that she was just as much of a rancher as all those other Joneses.

  She had been devastated when the will had been read, and then she’d gotten angry. She was just stubborn enough to do whatever it took to win. If that meant marrying a complete stranger, then so be it. His totally hot looks made her bitter reality a much easier pill to swallow. She found herself wishing she knew for sure if there were an afterlife, she wanted her grandfather to see the results of his manipulations.

  She took a deep breath. She was stirring the soup so fast it was about to spill over the sides of the pan. A little residual anger—much? Well, she was entitled.

  Karlo could see Marla was only paying partial attention to what she was doing. She was obviously thinking hard about something. He took advantage of her preoccupation to look at her. Her head was heart-high on his chest. She wore her yellow hair cut close to her head. It made her eyes look huge in her face. She had womanly curves and soft skin. He had a hard time keeping his hands from touching her. He wanted to map each and every dip and valley, curve and hollow of her landscape. He remembered the wedding had been postponed. She hadn’t said when the new date was. He hoped it was soon. He didn’t know how long he could wait before he sank into her moist heat.

  Chapter Four

  Mr. Edwards called in the morning on Friday; he had the pre-nup ready. Marla made an appointment for them to come by before he closed his office for the day. Hanging up the phone, Marla went to find Karlo. Karlo had been at the ranch for four days and he already fit in as if he’d always been there.

  Looking over at the pasture, she saw him leaning against the fence. He had spent several hours each day observing the alpaca, moving around the pasture with them and getting them familiar with his presence and his touch. She appreciated him taking the extra time to learn everything he could. She also noticed he was still stiff from the crash, especially in his shoulders and back. He kept saying he felt fine, only over and over she watched him rolling his shoulders, as if there were an ache he couldn’t relieve. She felt so guilty about deceiving such an obviously nice guy, she decided to offer him a back rub later that evening.

  Turning away from the window, she decided to make a nice lunch. They had been having sandwiches and other easy-to-fix meals for the past few days. The alpacas didn’t take much work, but there was always knitting and weaving to do. She also needed to start thinking about bringing in the hay and she couldn’t until they did something about his…whatever it was, in her hay barn. She’d think about that later. Right now, it was time to cook.

  A man of Karlo’s size needed something more substantial, so she pulled out the hamburger and started making a meatloaf. Meatloaf was messy and also therapeutic, like making bread. Instead of pounding on dough, she hand-mixed the meat, breadcrumbs, egg, and Worcestershire sauce together. To go with it, she also grabbed some green beans and some spinach from the vegetable bin, which she would steam and then sauté with onion and homemade teriyaki sauce. Putting the fixings on the counter, she went into the pantry to get a few potatoes. She debated for a moment between baked and mashed, and decided on mashed since the meatloaf needed the oven.

  Looking out the window as she peeled the potatoes, she could see Karlo walking across the pasture toward the far hay field. She let herself admire his ass for a couple of moments and then got back to work.

  Karlo strode across the field. It was time for another circuit of the property. He tried to do a complete security sweep four to six times each day. Because he was only one person, he worked hard to vary his timing and direction so his actions couldn’t be predicted. He had at least an hour before he had to be back for lunch. Even though he didn’t know what he was doing, he usually helped Marla with the cooking. He took directions well, and it gave him an excuse to spend more time with her. Today, Marla had kicked him out of the house, she said she wanted to surprise him so h
e was taking advantage of the time to get in an extra patrol of the property.

  The moon had been bright enough for him to make a few patrols during the last two nights as well as during the days. Karlo quickly made friends with Rusty, Marla’s dog, so he wouldn’t bark and wake up Marla when he went out or came in. Karlo recognized the word dog but for some reason Rusty didn’t look like what he thought a dog should look like. He was too small and his fur was too long. He didn’t ask Marla about it because he didn’t want her to worry about him. He was determined to be the best husband she could ask for.

  That meant he needed to find out who or what was behind the small breakdowns, broken fences, and other problems on the ranch. He liked the feel of the sun on his skin and wondered why it felt both familiar and wrong at the same time. He pushed those fleeting memories away and concentrated on his surroundings. He knew if he tried to capture one of the images that flashed across his mind, he’d only end up more confused and with a big headache.

  The eastern edge of the ranch was bordered by forested hills Marla had said was Federal land. He believed the intruders were using the trees for cover to get onto the property without being seen. He’d found some footprints but no sightings of people—yet. At the same time, he felt his patrols were helping because in the past four days, there had been no new problems with the animals or ranch. Tiring out his body with exercise also helped keep his constant arousal under control. Of course it only took a few minutes in Marla’s company for him to get hard again, no matter how tired he was.

  The night before, Marla had taught him an activity called board games. They had played something called Monopoly. When she explained that all the properties actually existed in someplace called Atlantic City, he believed they were buying the actual properties. She wasn’t able to explain why the playing pieces were the shapes they were. He chose the shape she called a flat iron, which was strange because he flashed on the words KowLer star-fighter when he saw it. Luckily, he realized his error before he mentioned that belief to Marla. Many things she felt he should know, even with his memory loss.