Not that thirty-five was old. Hell, Senior Captain Helyg was thirty and would soon take command of the first of four UDF bases on Earth—or Terr as the planet was commonly referred to now. Helyg had already given Gunner a letter of recommendation to ensure at least a few years’ space duty before he really was too old.
For now, he’d bide his time consulting on the development of Terr Base One, and overseeing the improvement projects in the newly resettled town of New Damon Beach. After all, revamping and expanding an entire space fleet didn’t happen overnight.
Gunner turned onto what would be the main drag of New Damon Beach, and took the gentle hill with his long-legged stride. His stomach rumbled in anticipation of his belated lunch. The general use mess hall was over the rise, just past the orphanage...where April Buroski lived and worked. The corners of his mouth pulled upward at the now-familiar tugging sensation in his chest each time he thought of her. In the seven-plus months since he’d last seen her, he hadn’t come up with a single plausible excuse to justify his presence at the orphanage. Maybe he should quit over-thinking the situation and stop by.
He slowed his pace. Or maybe God had just smiled on him.
Part-way up the hill, a young woman shuffled up the dirt road. Her hips swayed with each heavy step, and her long, straight, honey-color hair caught the sunlight. When she stopped and pressed her dainty hands against the small of her back, his heart did a funny flip-flop in his chest.
He ran one hand over the soft stubble of his military-approved buzz-cut. Now that his sandy-blond waves were gone, would she recognize him? Maybe he should have waited to cut it.
The young woman pressed on, continuing her ponderous uphill journey. He didn’t bother to suppress a grin as he approached.
“April?” He pitched his voice gently, because freaking out a pregnant woman was uncool.
She blinked up at him, then her face lit with a smile. “Garris...Gunner.”
She remembers me. His heart swelled in his chest, and he almost couldn’t breathe.
“Garrison is fine, ma’am.” He liked the soft way she pronounced his given name. “It’s been a while. There’s a little more of you now.”
She laid her hand over her immense belly as her cheeks turned a charming shade of pink. Oh, crap. He’d embarrassed her. Fix it fast, Reed.
“You look wonderful.” She did wear her pregnancy well.
“Thank you,” she replied. “So do...um, how have you been?”
“Busy. But it’s been satisfying work. Like the road?” He made a sweeping motion with his arms, up and down the street. “It’s taken three months to prep the roadway for the lizo, the Matiran bonding agent. We start paving in town tomorrow, then work our way out toward the new UDF base on the other side of the hills. Should wrap up in five days.”
Her green-gold eyes twinkled. “I’d heard you were in charge of the project. Even with just the grading, it’s much smoother and easier to walk on. Thank you.”
That felt good. “Couldn’t have done it without the guys from my old platoon.” He gave her a grin and shrugged his shoulders.
“Please tell them how much I appreciate their hard work.” April shifted on her feet as though she was anxious to keep moving.
What a clod he was, blocking her path. “I’m sorry. I’m keeping you from your walk.”
“No, it’s all right.” She dismissed his worry with a wave of her hand. “I’m heading home now anyway. Healer Dacian wants me out walking, but it does get boring.”
“Would you like company?” What had possessed him to ask that? The part of you that finds her adorable in that jumper, and the way it brushes against her rounded belly…. Jesus, Reed!
He coughed. Had she noticed his awkwardness? Maybe not. Her eyes were as warm and welcoming as he remembered. Damn, but she was as beautiful as the first time he’d seen her, right after she’d been freed from the Anferthian slave ship. He hadn’t even realized then that she was pregnant, not until she’d told him anyhow. Now April was in the full bloom of impending motherhood, radiant and enchanting.
You dumb-ass. She’s carrying her boyfriend’s child. The same man who’d been shot point-blank right in front of her during the invasion. This had to be killing her inside. If only he could put his arm around her slender shoulders and shield her from all the horrors of life.
“I don’t want to keep you from your work.” Her smile projected sincerity, and possibly a hint of pleasure for his offer.
“Lunch break.” He shrugged again and offered his arm. “Besides, the orphanage is along my way. Shall we?”
April cast a quick glance at Garrison’s muscular arm. Everything about him made her feel petite, which was amazing, given how huge she was right now. She tipped her head back and met his smoky-blue eyes set in a square-jawed masculine face. He was taller than she remembered, at least half a foot over her five feet six inches.
Dave had only been two inches taller than herself, and lean. He had fit the physical image of a California surfer perfectly. But his Wisconsin twang had given him away every time. And he didn’t surf.
She gave herself a mental shake. Don’t go there. It wasn’t healthy to dwell on things she couldn’t change. She placed her hand on Garrison’s arm. “I’d love the company. Thank you.”
He adjusted his pace to match hers, even though his stomach growled in apparent protest. It was after mid-day and he must be starving. He definitely got sweet-guy bonus points for not hurrying her along. He’d started earning those points the day she’d first met him. The day he’d opened the door to her slave cell, freeing her and her cellmates from a terrifying future. After he’d left her in the care of a Matiran healer, she’d thought she’d never see him again. But he’d come back later to check on her, and they had talked for a long time. Get real, April. You talked, he listened. She’d even told him about Dave, because she’d needed to, and Garrison had been sympathetic and non-judgmental.
“How close are you?” Garrison’s question pulled her from her musings. “Till the baby comes, I mean.”
“My due date is in eight days.” That ought to freak him out.
His eyebrows notched up and concern flickered in his eyes. “Should you be out here walking around alone?”
April smothered the laugh bubbling inside her. “Relax, Garrison. The worst that could happen is my water breaks and I make a mess on a dirt road. First babies generally take their time about being born, and Healer Dacian’s infirmary is only a block away.”
He returned her smile with full-fledged grin, then enveloped her hand with his much larger one. “Sorry.”
“That’s okay. I appreciate your concern.”
“Do you know if you’re having a boy, or a girl?”
“A boy.” She caressed her belly with her other hand. “I’m naming him after his father.”
“Dave?”
Wow. He remembers? “David, actually. His father went by Dave.”
Garrison made a “hmm” sound, and his expression became distant.
She gave his arm a gentle tap. “Um, Garrison? This is it.”
He blinked and met her gaze. “What’s it?”
“My stop, silly. The orphanage.”
He glanced over her head at the grouping of modular cubes stuck together like blocks. Matir’s version of housing. No, not just housing—a home. A home to several post-invasion orphans and two women who had nowhere else to go and a deep-seated desire to help.
“I’ll walk you in.”
“Oh, that’s okay. I can waddle myself to the door.”
He gazed down at her, his eyes warm. April’s heart stuttered as a small shock of electricity rippled through her. It seemed like a lifetime ago since Dave had last gazed at her like that. It made her feel...pretty. Desirable, even. You’re reading way too much into this, April. In all her twenty-two years, she’d never been what people considered slender or graceful, but now she looked like a beached whale. Besides, who could possibly desire a woman pregnant with another man’s ba
by?
“Of course you can, April. Humor me?”
She gave a mental sigh. All right, then. He wanted to be a gentleman and get the prego to her door, because that’s what gentlemen did. Definitely worth more sweet-guy bonus points. It felt good that he’d take the time to help her. “All right. C’mon.”
Chapter 2
Gunner couldn’t suppress a grin as Corporal Benji Reyes stomped his booted feet against the hardened five-day-old Matiran version of pavement.
“Amazing shit, this lizo, ain’t it, Colonel?” Reyes appeared equally pleased with the final product.
Amazing was an understatement. Lizo formed a hard surface over the dirt road, yet the road retained a natural look. Aesthetically pleasing in a way asphalt had never been. And twenty times more durable. The new roads he and his men were paving now would outlast him by a bunch. They’d probably still look almost new when April’s great-grandchildren walked these streets. “I’m just relieved to have the dust gone. And no mud when the rains start again next week.”
Reyes chuckled. “Yeah, March. In like a lion, and all that.” He jutted his chin in the direction of a raucous group of youngsters on the opposite side of the street. “This’ll probably be one of the last beach days for the kids for a while. The storms will make beach-combing too dangerous.”
One corner of Gunner’s mouth pulled up at the sight of April’s partner, Li-Min, herding the older orphans along. Yup, the faux-Spring of February in Northern California was almost over. He narrowed his eyes and frowned. Where’s April? She must be on nap-duty with the younger ones. Maybe she’d like to take a walk with him later. He’d managed to catch her three out of the past five days when she was out for her walk, and he’d kept her company. In no way did that make him a stalker, did it?
“Nice road, Gunner,” Li-Min shouted over the din of enthusiastic children. A chorus of boisterous Yeahs and woots followed, and Gunner waved his thanks to them.
As the kid-induced chaos turned the corner, he shifted his gaze in the direction they’d come from. If April were alone, she might need a hand.
“I’ve got to check on something, Reyes. Catch you later.”
Gunner stepped through the front door of the orphanage thirty minutes later. The problem with running a project like the street paving was, everyone and their brother wanted to talk to him about it. Normally, he wouldn’t mind, but today he’d hoped for a little alone-time with April. Maybe help her out with chores and such. He frowned. Where had that domestic idea come from?
The peaceful silence broadcasted that Li-Min and her charges hadn’t returned. His gaze roamed the spacious, well-lit front room. Everything was neat and clean. Comfortable sofas and chairs were arranged seemingly haphazardly throughout, bright throw rugs filling the floor space between. The toys were organized into baskets, books lined the shelves, and childlike artwork hung prominently on the walls. Love lived here.
“April?”
No answer. She was probably further in, rocking a fussy toddler, or something. He’d find her and ask how he could help out. As he moved down the hallway, he called her name again. Still no answer. Maybe she was asleep. He’d just take a quick peek into her room to make sure she was okay. But of the dozen doors lining the hallway, which one was hers? He frowned. Should he risk waking kids by calling out again?
A low moaning cry drifted down the hallway, as if someone were trying to conceal their pain.
Not a good sound. “April?”
“Here!”
His gut clenched. Something about her response was all wrong. Sprinting toward her voice, he skidded to a stop at the end of the hall. Was she behind door number one or door number two?
“Gar-ri-son!”
Door number two. He grabbed the knob and shouldered the door open. The room beyond was bright and airy, the walls lined with tables, baskets of laundry, and a half dozen clothing sanitizer machines. April sat on the laundry room floor, her back pressed against one of the machines and her skirt covering her raised knees. Her cheeks puffed in and out as air hissed through her teeth, a glint of steel-hard determination in her eyes. “The baby’s coming.”
Of course the baby was coming. Why wouldn’t it come when he was the only other adult in the house? His gaze darted to the pinkish fluid puddled on the otherwise spotless floor. Remain calm.
He moved to squat at her side, forcing his voice into neutral, crisis control mode. “Right now, huh?” He circled her wrist with his fingers to take her pulse.
“Uh-huh,” she replied.
“Have you commed the healer?”
“My comm-link is...I don’t know where.” She grunted. “Too late anyway.”
Pulse elevated, but not bad. “I can get you to Dacian’s infirmary pretty fast.”
“No,” she panted, and scrunched up her face. “Baby’s...head...crowning.”
“Crowning?” Alert, alert! DEFCON one!
“Yes!” Her answer turned into a hoarse scream of pain.
Well, shit. “Um, this is probably not the best time to tell you, but I’ve never delivered a baby before.”
She barked a dry laugh. “Yeah, well I’ve never birthed a baby before.”
She had him there.
He rose from the floor and ran his hands through the wall-mounted sanitation light. Another amazing Matiran invention, and far more effective than soap and water. Kneeling again between her feet, he eyed the edge of her skirt. “Okay, April, um, I’m going to, um….”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” she snapped, yanking the hem of her skirt up to expose everything from her belly down. “Just catch him!”
Whoa! Her son’s head really was crowning from amongst her golden curls. At least she had gotten her underwear off. Get a grip, Reed. Crossing himself, he looked up and met her glare. Uh, oh. There was little doubt that she’d seen his reflexive gesture.
“Sorry. So, uh, when do you push?”
“Next...contraction,” she puffed. Her face contorted again. “Now.”
If her contractions were this close together, there really was no time to find her comm-link and alert Healer Dacian. He moved his hands closer, but even though she pushed, not much happened.
“Breathe, April. You’re doing fine.” When in doubt, make it up, right?
“Is he coming?”
“Yup, he sure is. I think he’ll be here with a few more pushes.” Keep her engaged, Reed. “Hey, remember what you said about first babies taking their time?”
Green-gold eyes flared again. “Shut up, Garrison.”
Atta girl. He gave her his widest grin.
She clenched her jaw. “If I wasn’t...so busy...I’d kick...your smart ass.”
Yeah, she was doing fine. “You deliver this baby first, then maybe I’ll let you.”
“Ahh!” April squeezed her eyes closed and pushed.
“Oh, dear lord.” Li-Min stood in the doorway like an angel sent to rescue him. “I’ll comm Dacian.”
“What? Wait!” She wouldn’t leave him here alone, would she? Li-Min peeked her head back around the door frame. “Why don’t I comm Dacian and you sit here?” She was a woman. That alone made her infinitely more qualified to make this delivery.
She snorted. “Yeah, right.” Li-Min closed the door, probably so the kids wouldn’t walk in and see the bloody mess. Super.
“Tell Dacian the baby’s head is crowning!” Hopefully Li-Min heard his shout. That info might get the healer here faster.
Two more contractions went by, and on the third the baby’s head emerged further. Gunner’s breath hitched. This was a new life coming into the world. And he was going to be the first to see it...him...David. “That’s great, April. Do it again.”
She did, and Gunner reached to help the baby’s head emerge. “Almost there, little mama.” The tiny head resting against his palm was warm and wet. Holy shit, this is amazing.
One more strong push from April, and Gunner’s hands were full of slimy infant. Turning the baby over, his breath caught in his thro
at. The infant’s solemn blue eyes regarded him with a depth of trust only an innocent could give.
“Whoa, buddy, if you look at your mama like that, the rest of us guys won’t stand a chance.”
April made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “Is he breathing?”
“He is.” Wonder at the miracle of new life filled Gunner as he gave the baby a visual once-over. “And he has ten fingers and toes, dark blue eyes...and he’s bald as a billiard. See?” Gunner turned the infant to face his mother.
“Oh! Baby!” April’s words squeaked out as her heart expanded with love. He looks so much like Dave.
Garrison frowned. “I’d give him to you, but he’s still attached to—”
The laundry room door opened, and Garrison’s face lit up as though the cavalry had rode in, not just Healer Dacian.
“Li-Min said you were having the baby, April.” The blue-skinned Matiran smiled at her as he knelt next to Garrison. “I thought I might be able to assist, but it looks like everything is under control. Well done, Gunner.”
“Thanks, but you can take over now. I really don’t know what to do next.” Gunner’s forehead creased, underscoring his uncertainty. Poor guy.
Dante Dacian’s fingers glowed faintly as they rested on David’s belly. April’s insides quivered as she watched him use his preternatural Gift to examine her baby. “Is he okay?” Please, oh please, let him be fine.
David gave a small cough, then made a sucking motion with his lips. The healer’s brown-eyed gaze met hers and he smiled. “Perfectly healthy and hungry.” He set to cutting the umbilical cord with an efficiency that could only come from experience. “Gunner, wrap him in a clean blanket, please.”
All she could do was stare at the miracle now cradled in the crook of Garrison’s arm.
“One more push, please, April,” Dante said, resting one hand on her belly.
As she pushed, the healer’s hand glowed a faint bluish-white. The after-birth slid from her womb with barely any effort on her part. Dante straightened her ruined skirt and gave her a fatherly smile. “We’ll finish clean-up in a few minutes. Gunner, hand the little one to his mother before she knocks you down and takes him.”
Romancing the Stars: 8 Short Stories of Galactic Romance and Adventure Page 12