by H. E. Trent
She swooped over, wrapped her arms around the toddler’s torso, and lifted her off her feet with a Whee! of enthusiasm.
“Gentle, Elken,” Sera scolded.
“Kerry’s a bit more durable than you give her credit for,” Murki said. “I am certain that half of Little Gitano has given her similarly merciless squeezes in recent months.”
“It’s the cheeks,” Courtney said. “People can’t resist the cheeks.”
“She has darling cheeks,” Elken said softly. Kerry was a perfectly angelic little cherub. She didn’t look like a terrifying Beshni at all.
“I think she was looking for her brother,” Murki said.
“Where Bubby?” Kerry asked.
“Look for either Trigrian or Erin,” Courtney said. “Trigrian never puts that kid down, but if he doesn’t have them, then Erin’s watching him along with her two.”
“Or one of my sisters,” Sera said.
“True,” Courtney said. “Just as likely.”
“They should get their own,” Murki said.
“I think the last thing those two need are any new ideas. Knowing them, they’ll find a way to get the children without having the men, and Jekhan men won’t abide by that.” Sera realized her slip-up the moment the words passed her lips, but fortunately, no one in the room corrected her on the gaffe.
If push came to shove, there were always human men. They weren’t an option for Sera, but her sisters may have been less reluctant to mate them than she was. She had no idea. They were far from being prudes—they couldn’t be, after having spent so much of their lives on their backs—but they didn’t really discuss such things with each other. They liked to pretend they were normal in some way.
“Where Bubby?" Kerry looked up at her father in the way all manipulative toddlers do. Her little lips were jutted out, eyes a bit wet, and shoulders low in dejection.
Murki blinked at her in a playfully impassive way. “You’ll see your bubby at dinner.”
“Want Bubby.” Kerry stamped her little foot and crossed her arms.
Murki looked to Courtney, who grinned at him with her typical churlishness. “A little help, sweetheart?”
“Why? You told me last night that you can handle her fine, remember? I was giving you tips. I told you human children aren’t always so cooperative for their parents.”
“You did this somehow.”
Courtney grinned some more.
“You did.”
“All I did was give birth to her. Everything else is genetic or…I don’t know, perhaps having to do with your parenting since I’m rarely allowed to hold my own child for more than a minute at a time.”
“Want. Bubby!” Kerry stamped her foot again.
Murki closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Sera tried to suppress her giggle. Seeing the unflappable Beshni brothers out of sorts was a rare comic treat. Esteben’s twins were younger, though. Barely crawling. They still managed to make him pull his hair on occasion.
Courtney looked to Sera. “And to think, he wants more.”
“You owe me a son, woman.”
Courtney scoffed. “Esteben has two. There go your next generation of Beshni boys right there.”
“I want my own. And with circumstances on the planet being what they are, more girls, too.”
“You and Trigrian might need to have that out, then. I’ve only got so many childbearing years left. I’m not gonna be forty and still having babies. Nope.”
Murki leveled her with a glare. “So that gives you nine more years of productive procreation. I believe that’ll be enough.”
“Do you want a family or a circus?”
Given his ensuing silence, Murki seemed to have to actually think about the question.
Courtney rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Murk? There were only four Beshni kids, and that was two per father. You’re asking for a lot, and I like not being pregnant almost as much as you like getting me pregnant.”
A less bold man might have blushed at the statement. Murki, though, was rubbing his chin with thought.
“I don’t like that face you’re making,” Courtney said. “That’s the face you always make when you’re doing math in your head, and I don’t know what kind of math would be required in a discussion about my procreative abilities.”
Sera could guess. She squeezed her lips together to staunch her grin and watched as Elken resumed her neglected chore.
“What if we give you a number? Would that help?” Murki asked Courtney.
“A number of what?”
“A number of children we should have. As you said, there were four Beshnis. We only have two.”
“So you want four?”
“I’d be happier with six.”
Courtney’s normally olive-toned skin blanched to a worrisome shade of beige.
“There were five Merridon children, mostly girls,” Sera said, probably unhelpfully, but the figure had needed stating.
Of course she wanted Trigrian to have more children and, obviously, Courtney would have more than a small role to play in that.
“Did you plan this?” Courtney asked, pointing to the two of them. “I think you’re ganging up on me. Trigrian put you up to this, I bet. He’s still in that lovey-dovey babies-are-the-best-thing-ever daze and can’t conceptualize how much harder he’s working now and how much less sleep he’s getting.”
“But he’s happy,” Murki said equably, smiling knavishly at his lover. “Don’t you want him to be happy?”
“Of course I want him to be happy, but you know what else I want to be happy? My pelvic floor. You guys make big babies. I’m not sure if my bladder will ever go back to where it’s supposed to be.”
“Four more,” Murki said, grinning. “Back-to-back and get the gestations over with, hmm?”
Courtney furrowed her brow. “That’s not healthy.”
“Perhaps on Earth, it wouldn’t be, but this is Jekh, and you have a doctor here who knows your body very well. Dorro is convinced you could carry another perfectly healthy child right now.”
“You’ve been talking to Dorro behind my back?”
Murki shrugged. “He was examining the children. I happened to be there, so I asked.”
“I guess there’s no such thing as doctor-patient confidentiality on Jekh.”
“Not when the patient in question is the mother of one’s children.”
Courtney squinted at him.
“Do you need incentive? What do you want?”
She scoffed and canted her head. “Are you handing me a blank check, Murki? You’re treading into dangerous territory.”
Murki cut his gaze toward Sera, as if for support, but she was going to stay out of the discussion. At least for a while longer, anyway. She put up her hands and grinned. “Please accept my apologies for not interfering.”
He looked back to Courtney. “I believe I’ll risk this so-called blank check.”
A slow, dangerous grin spread up to Courtney’s cheeks, and she held out her hand. “Shake on it?”
“Is my word not good enough for you, my love?”
“Oh, your word is pretty potent, but I want you to shake my hand so you’ll remember this moment and that we had a witness to the agreement.”
He cut Sera a look, then Courtney, then sighed and moved closer to his woman, hand extended. “Mind you’ll not get yourself in trouble for whatever unspoken bargain you’re making right now.”
“There’ll probably be trouble.” She shook his hand hard. “But I deserve to cause some trouble if I’m going to have to endure another three months of dry heaving so soon.”
“Perhaps I should discuss this first with Trigrian.”
Courtney pulled her hand away. “Too late, baby. A deal’s a deal.”
Murki sighed and scooped up Kerry, who was still demanding her bubby.
“Dinner’s in ten minutes,” she called after his retreating back.
“Yes, I’ll return in time to take my place at the head of th
e table where I can annoy the ever-loving stars out of you,” he called back.
“Looking forward to it.”
“Did I hear ten minutes?” Marco poked his head into the kitchen and quickly scanned the room.
As always, when the sound of certain voices sounded behind her, Sera’s heart seemed to have stopped pumping for a moment.
She placed a bracing hand against the top of a chair and took a breath.
No strangers here.
No one was going to run up behind her and grab her to drag her off to some corner and lift her skirt. All of the men on the farm had been vetted and vouched for by McGarrys and the Beshnis. Knowing that didn’t stop Sera from experiencing that flash of panic, but at least she was getting better. She no longer screamed as a reflex.
Growing up on the farm, there were just her two fathers and Trigrian, no other men. The modern version of the family business was practically awash with them. She was good at avoiding them for the most part. They were all fine, probably, but she couldn’t help feeling anxious when one stepped into her line of sight. History had trained her to be on her guard around men she didn’t know well.
Needing a distraction, she moved to the counter and opened the drawer that contained serving utensils.
“Yep,” Courtney said to Marco. “Ten minutes. I used your mother’s ten-layer lasagna recipe. With the number of mouths I have to feed, you’d best believe that chore took me all day.”
In her periphery, Sera could see Marco shifting his big body out of the doorway. He walked into the room, pausing to bump his fist against Elken’s much smaller one in a way Sera had seen several times before but still couldn’t quite grasp the logic of.
“Where’d you get the cheese?” he asked Courtney.
“The mozzarella and ricotta are local,” she said. “Our dairy farmer neighbors finally figured out that cheese is the business.”
“Cheese is totally the business. What about the Parmesan, though? That has to be aged forever.”
“Oh. Precious brought that back from her last trip to Earth. Brought me a whole wheel. That would probably last anyone else a good year, but around here…”
“Three weeks,” Sera said quietly.
Courtney snorted. “Maybe not even that long, sis.”
Marco chuckled and leaned against the counter. “If you had any free time, I’d tell you to try your hand at Ma’s Alfredo sauce recipe and see if you can sell some jars.”
Courtney may have criticized Murki for his “math face,” but at times, she had a similar one. Every time she made some revelation about a new product the farm could produce, right before, she furrowed her brow and twisted her mouth to one side.
Sera handed her a couple of spatulas for the casseroles—the lasagnas. “Is it hard to make, this sauce?”
Courtney shook her head slowly. “Not hard once you learn how to make a good roux. If I can make one, anyone can. Do you think that’s something your sisters might be interested in doing to earn a little money?”
“You would teach us how?”
“Sure.” Courtney shrugged. “Like I said, making the sauce isn’t hard. You need to know what it’s supposed to taste like, but after you do, you can doctor it up.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Marco said, putting up his hands. “If you’re gonna tweak the sauce, don’t involve me in the scheme. Ma would disown me.”
“We won’t tell her. I know she’s a traditionalist, but come on. Variety is where the profit is.”
“Don’t throw me under the bus, Court.”
She grinned.
“Promise me.”
She rolled her eyes and grabbed a couple of potholders from the counter. “Oh, fine. I promise I won’t tell your mother about any schemes that would lead to the desecration of any of her recipes for profit.”
“I’m going to hold you to that.” He turned his cap around so the brim shadowed his neck.
Sera didn’t understand the point of him wearing it that way outdoors if the brim was supposed to provide shade for the eyes, but she’d seen others doing the same thing. His sister Precious wore her hats similarly.
Turned that way, the depth of his eyes was more prominent. He had enviably thick lashes for a male of any species Sera had ever encountered. She wondered how they’d feel. Soft like renta bird down? Wiry like the bristles of a bottlebrush?
She smoothed her skirt down with her restless right hand. She wasn’t meant to know such things.
“Anything I can help with?” Marco asked Courtney.
“No. Why?”
“Why do you sound so suspicious?”
“Because whenever you guys come into the kitchen asking if you can help with anything, you usually have something to tell me that I don’t want to hear. What is it this time? Did the field where Trigrian grows coffee flood again?”
“No, but coffee does have a little something to do with this. Escobar’s coming over for some.”
Escobar.
Sera grimaced. Dinners were so much more enjoyable when there weren’t strangers about.
“To buy some or to drink some,” Courtney asked.
“I dunno. Maybe both.” Marco raised his broad shoulders and let them fall.
On a planet populated by impressively tall men, Marco still managed to be massive.
The first time Sera had seen him had been on the space station. For the most part, she’d tried not to peer overlong at the Terrans working out of the commercial area because they would either want to sleep with her or buy her, even with her body being broken the way she was. Keeping her head down and her mouth shut was how she’d managed not to get separated from her daughter and her sisters after so many years. The plan was good and safe, and one she planned to continue using indefinitely. Still, Marco had made her stare because he wasn’t just tall and broad, but he had an interesting face. Sera didn’t know what fascinated her so much then, but Erin had said the words later: dimples.
“Me and Owen saw him in town at the salvage yard.” Marco started tearing apart a head of Terran lettuce Courtney had handed him.
“What was he doing there? He’s not going into the junk business, is he?”
“Nah, he said he was looking for machines to fiddle with. Trying to keep his hands busy, I guess. Probably still trying to adapt to living out here in the country after so many years in Buinet.”
“If he wants stuff to do, I can make him a list of farm chores.”
“The chickens still need to be relocated,” Sera said quietly and quickly looked down at the sling that bound her paralyzed arm when Marco turned his gaze toward her.
At least her frightened gasp was a quiet one.
She didn’t like the attention. Didn’t like being looked at when she couldn’t judge men’s motives.
Courtney cleared her throat quietly. “How’s the new chicken house coming, anyway?”
Sera swallowed and straightened the chair in front of her. “I think all that was left to be done was hanging the rear door. The farmhands were supposed to do that today, I think.”
“Want me to go look, Court?” Marco asked.
Sera looked up and saw that he was crooking his thumb in the general direction of the outbuilding, and looking at Courtney.
Safe to look.
There wasn’t any hint of resignation in his voice. He sounded like he asked because he was conditioned to, and because asking was the right thing to do. He was Courtney’s friend.
“Could you?” Courtney glanced at the clock behind the stove. “I’ll hold dinner until you get back. Shouldn’t take long, though. If they’re struggling to get the door up, maybe you can hold it for them or something. I’d like to get those chickens completely moved tomorrow so we can start updating the barn. Trigrian has been itching to start the project since we moved here.”
“As you wish.” Marco padded away.
Sera sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“I know it’s not my place to make suggestions about the farm
, but—”
“Why not?” Courtney interrupted.
“The farm is yours now. It’s the Beshni farm, not Merridon.”
“Beshni in name, maybe, but is Trigrian not still a Merridon? Maybe he took Murki’s name, but his connection hasn’t changed.”
“I know. It’s just…it’d been the Merridon farm for generations.” Sera rubbed the bicep of her lame arm and looked straight ahead at nothing. “I suppose, that was bound to change sooner or later. I always suspected that if Trigrian was going to be with Murki that Murki would be the leading male. I guess I didn’t think of the farm and what the relationship would mean for it. Murki was a city boy. Even then, I didn’t think Trigrian would come back.”
“And if he hadn’t, who would have reopened the place?”
“For a while, I imagined I would if no one else did. I figured I’d do my duty and give a pair of men a child each, and then send them on their way. Of course, that was before I had Elken. I can’t imagine her not hovering nearby.”
Sera preferred the Terran way of childrearing. There was more choice. Women had more opportunities to interact with their children if they chose to—to shape and mold them. The children tended to follow their mothers in the event of a separation, not the fathers.
“Do you still feel obligated to take a pair of men?” Courtney asked.
“I suppose obligated is as good a word as any.”
“You don’t want to be with anyone?”
“No,” Sera said without hesitation, and rubbed her arm some more. “Elken and me in a little house would suit me fine, but with the population being so unbalanced, we all have to make concessions.”
“You don’t have to,” Courtney said softly. She always tried so hard to understand, even if, being Terran, she couldn’t empathize completely. “You don’t have to be that martyr. If you don’t want anyone—fine. No one here is going to criticize you for that, especially no one who knows what you’ve been through. If any outsiders have anything to say about your choice, we’ll defend you. Men who are desperate enough for women should give some serious thought to fast-tracking themselves lovers from Earth and leave the ladies here the hell alone.”