Bonnie knew just how good Lynx's nose was and merely nodded her agreement, preferring not to get into another discussion of Lynx's apparently nonexistent libido.
Market days were both a blessing and a curse for Lynx. He could work without Bonnie's disturbing scent in the air, but while she was gone, he envisioned all manner of dire consequences. He wished the speeder parts would come soon, and though he told himself that it was only because he wanted to work on it, the truth was that he knew just how far it was to Nimbaza.
“Pregnant females should not travel alone,” he muttered to the chickens, but at the same time, he balked at offering to accompany her. She’d never asked him to, and he reasoned that this was a good enough excuse, but couldn’t escape the feeling that it wasn’t. “What if the child comes early?” He knew there was usually some traffic on the road—especially on market days—and doubted that anyone would pass her by and not come to her aid, but it still worried him, and he wished Bonnie's farm hadn’t been quite so remote. Her friend Zuannis had come by a few times, and that girl from the dairy, Salan. So far, Lynx had managed to avoid Salan, but had to admit that he liked Zuannis. Of course, the main reason for that was that Salan smelled like a female in heat from a kilometer away, while Zuannis smelled of fresh bread.
Smiling ruefully, he shook his head. “Not that it matters,” he said, realizing that he was now talking to the animals more than he did to Bonnie, or any other person, for that matter, and he wondered how much longer it would be before the mines would hire him. It wasn’t as though he didn’t enjoy the work he was doing—if he hadn’t been working for a female, it would have been just fine, especially since it involved maintaining her farm implements. It might not have been as glamorous as some other occupations, but he loved working on machinery. It was straightforward and unemotional; machines only required certain, specific things, unlike women whose minds he had yet to understand, though he’d lived among them for years.
Bonnie was a little different, however. He had to admit that she wasn’t like other females, and if he’d met her years before, he might be feeling differently now. She was nice to him, she was lovely, and she smelled like heaven. If only…
Then one day Bonnie got a call from Drummond. Jack was coming.
“Said she’d be here for the next market day,” Drummond reported. “You need to bring that boy with you.”
“Boy?” Bonnie echoed. “I’m not sure, Drummond, but I think he's older than I am.”
“Maybe,” said Drummond, “but he seems like a boy. You know: tall and thin with big eyes and curly hair?”
Bonnie knew this was true, and it made her wish that Lynx had been a boy—still young and innocent. He might have liked her better.
“He still working out all right for you?”
“Sure. He's a—” she paused there, letting out a long breath. What was he, anyway? A blessing? A big help? A godsend? A curse? “—good worker.”
“Well, you be sure and bring him then,” Drummond urged. “Cat and Leo will want to see him, I’m sure.”
“And I’m dying to see Jack again too,” Bonnie said. “She's… well… you know Jack.”
“Yeah, I know Jack,” he said, chuckling. “She's one of a kind.”
Bonnie might have been a farmer, and Tisana might have claimed to be a witch, but how did one describe Jack? A shrewd trader, she was tough as shoe leather with a mouth like a drunken pirate and a heart the size of a red giant star. Maybe she would have some suggestions for dealing with Lynx other than letting him go on living like a hermit. Or perhaps Tisana could put a hex on him—after all, she was a witch—though Bonnie didn’t think that she counted hexes among her powers. She could talk to animals and start fires with a glance, but to the best of Bonnie's knowledge, magical spells weren’t part of Tisana's repertoire. She did know a lot about herbs, though. Maybe she could brew up a potion that would improve Lynx's disposition.
Bonnie decided not to tell Lynx about Jack's visit, because even though he knew the other Zetithians existed, she wanted his meeting with Cat and Leo to be a surprise—just to see if it would squeeze some sort of spontaneous emotion out of him—something other than the ones she’d already seen.
The evening before market day, the cart was loaded except for the fresh eggs, but by day's end, Bonnie still hadn’t asked Lynx to go with her. Recognizing that she was putting it off intentionally didn’t make it any easier; she was still afraid to ask him. As a result, it was after dark when she went out to the shed.
“Lynx?” she called from the doorway. “I need to talk to you.”
Lynx turned on his lamp, and in the dim light, Bonnie could see him, backed into his corner and pulling a sheet up over himself as though trying to disappear into the wall. It took Bonnie only a moment to realize that he had to have been naked, because his wet clothes were hanging from the harvester droid; she could hear the water dripping onto the hard floor. Her mouth went dry in an instant, and her first impulse was to rip that sheet right out of his hands. She stared at him as he lay there, but he was nothing like she’d imagined him. His hard body wasn’t beckoning to her, nor were his eyes, which clearly warned her not to take another step closer. No, she thought regretfully, he would never let her catch him naked, no matter how much she might want him to.
Anger, mingled with irritation at being caught in just the sort of situation he most wished to avoid, colored Lynx's voice. “What do you want?”
Bonnie knew it was a bad time to ask, but hadn’t really expected him to snap at her. Still, her reaction to seeing him in bed was more disturbing than she would have cared to admit, and the thought that she might have interrupted a “private” activity didn’t help matters. “It's nothing serious,” she said quickly. “You don’t need to get up. It's just that I need you to go with me to Nimbaza tomorrow.”
“You have never needed me before,” Lynx pointed out.
Bonnie bit her lip, hoping that Lynx couldn’t smell what the thought of ripping that sheet off of him evoked. “I know that,” she said evenly. “But I need you to go with me this time.”
Lynx wasn’t a bit happy at the prospect of the trek into town. Walking beside Bonnie while being constantly bombarded with the suggestion that his body refused to consider would be pure torture. Unfortunately, she was his employer and paid him to work. If she needed him to accompany her, he could hardly refuse. “What would I do?”
He would probably thank her in the end, since he would be meeting Cat and Leo, but his obvious reluctance had Bonnie's eyes stinging with tears. “I just need help,” she said miserably. “You might not have noticed, since you haven’t even been in the same field with me in weeks, but I’m getting bigger every day, and my feet are swollen up like a couple of melons. I feel awful, and I still have to walk into town!” She hated to beg and really saw no need to, but she did it anyway. “Please come with me, Lynx. I need you.”
The trace of desperation in her voice triggered a response so automatic that Lynx had to take a moment to control it before he could reply. It was a tone that women had often used to manipulate him in the past— knowing that he was a sucker for it—but he refused to let it affect him now. Even so, Lynx knew he had no choice but to comply. “I will come with you,” he said, but the note of resignation in his voice only served as fuel to feed Bonnie's despair.
“I wish I could understand you, Lynx,” she said sadly. “But I haven’t got the first clue.” She turned to go, but paused as another thought struck her. “By the way, have you been eating the food I’ve been giving you, or are you just using it to trap the rats?”
Lynx stared blankly at her, unable to imagine why Bonnie would think he hadn’t been eating—and also why she would be asking him that now. He’d eaten every scrap of food she’d ever given him, and he was still hungry. If his stomach had ever been completely full, it must have been before the war. “I have been eating it.”
“Well, you sure could’ve fooled me,” she muttered. “The plate comes back clea
n, but I never get so much as a thank you, and you’re still as skinny as a rail. Would it kill you to even acknowledge the fact that I’m—oh, never mind! It doesn’t matter; I don’t know why I bother.” Waving a dismissive hand, she said, “Just be ready to go in the morning, okay? And you might wear the clothes I gave you—clothes that I made for you myself, I might add—instead of those rags you seem to be so fond of.”
Lynx was beginning to wish he’d just said “yes” to begin with, because then she would have already left, and they wouldn’t be having this discussion. Perhaps he shouldn’t have said anything more, but the fact that she was irritated with him for no good reason egged him on. “Is my work not to your liking?”
“What?” she asked, momentarily diverted. “No—I mean, yes. Your work is just fine. I haven’t seen a weed in the garden in ages. The alteration to the enock pen was an absolutely brilliant idea, and feeding them rats has got them laying eggs like crazy. Things have been running smoother than they ever did. Why do you ask?”
“You are angry with me,” he replied.
She sighed. “I think it's more frustration than anger,” she replied. “And it isn’t because you don’t do a good job!” Pausing a moment to take a deep breath, she went on, “It's lonely here, Lynx! I get the occasional visitor, but it isn’t the same as… well, you might enjoy the solitude, but I certainly don’t, and this was never how I intended to live when I came here with Sylor. I know that working for me wasn’t what you had in mind, and I’m really sorry you don’t like women, but, Lynx, it's not my fault! I’ve done the best I can to make you feel comfortable here, but you still act like I’m no better than the dirt under your feet. I just wish it could be different, that's all.”
“I cannot be your lover,” he said abruptly.
Bonnie stared at him in bewilderment. She must have missed something. “What? Who said anything about being my lover? I mean, look at me, Lynx! I can hardly move! The very last thing I need right now is a lover, and if you’re smelling any ‘desire,’ it certainly isn’t coming from me!” This wasn’t true—she knew it, and he probably did, as well—but Bonnie saw no point in admitting it when it was so abhorrent to him. Letting out a deep breath, she looked at him beseechingly. “I sure could use a friend, though. Would it kill you to try?”
If the look on his face was any indication, it probably would have.
“Oh, just forget it,” she mumbled. “I give up.”
Chapter 7
THE HIKE INTO NIMBAZA WAS A SILENT ONE. BONNIE WAS still wishing that Lynx would at least talk to her, but the fact that he hadn’t worn the clothes she’d given him didn’t offer much in the way of encouragement. Bonnie couldn’t understand him at all. To her, it seemed that having gotten a job working for her was one of the best things that could have happened to him—the miners didn’t have that great a life; the pay was good, but the work was hard and being stuck in a mine all day didn’t appeal to Bonnie in the slightest. She’d given him a good job that had kept him from being deported, and he was acting like he’d been sent to prison. The whole thing made her want to pull out her hair, not just cut it.
Bonnie mulled it over for the entire eight kilometers to Nimbaza and came to the conclusion that perhaps she’d been going about this all wrong. She’d obviously been too nice to Lynx and should be demanding a little more respect, if nothing else. She should be starving him into submission, not trying to fatten him up for market. No, she couldn’t starve him—Bonnie didn’t have the heart to starve the male enock who’d tried to kill her— but she could cut down his portions. That way, if he got hungry enough, he might appreciate her more, though she doubted it.
Then she remembered the cookies and figured she ought to feed him more, not less, because just the thought of Lynx hoarding cookies made her want to cry all over again. That was the problem, she told herself; she was just too emotional right now. If she hadn’t been pregnant, none of this would have gotten to her. She wouldn’t have cared whether he ate anything or not as long as he did what she expected of him.
Lynx knew Bonnie wasn’t very happy with him, but considered this to be a good thing. If she disliked him enough, she wouldn’t feel desire, he wouldn’t have to smell it and be reminded of the effect that the scent of a woman should have had on him. He hadn’t explained just why it was that he couldn’t be her lover. He’d left that to her imagination.
Still, Bonnie had been good to him, and he’d repulsed her. He was well-fed and had money in his pocket for the first time in what seemed like his entire life, and she was the one responsible for that. He was sorry for upsetting her, but there was nothing he could do about it. If he’d apologized, she might have begun to desire him again, and he didn’t want to take that risk.
Trying not to think about her, he focused on the money instead. When he’d worked in the mines of Paemay, he hadn’t considered the money he earned to be his own; it was being saved for his passage to Terra Minor, and he rarely spent any of it unless it was absolutely necessary, even to the point of going hungry most of the time. He’d had a goal back then, and he’d been single-minded enough to see himself through some difficult times.
But it was different now. He had money, but no real reason to spend it—or even save it—and the dream of buying his own land seemed so remote. He told himself that it wasn’t true, that he could do it eventually, but he was having a hard time convincing himself.
Lynx wondered how it was that Bonnie had ever had the wherewithal to buy her land. Had she inherited it? Had she earned it? He didn’t know. There were so many things he didn’t know about her. She was having a child, but she rarely spoke of it. Lynx only knew the father's name was Sylor Halen, and that he’d left her. Took the money and ran, she’d said. He wondered why. Once Zetithians chose a mate, it was for life, unless circumstances made it impossible to stay together. If he could have mated with Bonnie, they would not be walking together in stony silence. The journey would have been a pleasant one, if only…
Lynx had been doing his best to look anywhere but at Bonnie, but since he had fallen a few steps behind he could hardly avoid seeing her—and catching whiffs of her. She might have thought she didn’t smell of desire, but she did; pregnant women had always smelled like pure, sweet love to him. Her description of her own body might have been accurate, but he’d always considered pregnant women to be beautiful, and she was no less so than any other. The curves of her body called out to him—her hips, her breasts, her round belly. Yes, she was beautiful—even with her jaw set and her brow furrowed in a scowl.
Arriving in Nimbaza in reasonably good time, Bonnie and Lynx set up the cart in the marketplace. Her problems with Lynx had overshadowed the excitement of knowing that Jack would be there—and Cat and Leo and Tisana, too—but once they reached the outskirts of town, Bonnie found it difficult to appear nonchalant. It wasn’t every day that something as momentous as meeting up with two other survivors of the holocaust of Zetith took place. She busied herself with arranging her produce but couldn’t help looking up from her work to scan the crowd for Jack. Knowing that she would have a stall set up somewhere nearby, Bonnie held back a crate of enock eggs for Jack, who always had something interesting to trade for them.
She didn’t have to wait long. Jack came over very casually, as though only intending to talk, but when she winked at her, Bonnie knew that wasn’t her only motive. Jack could wheel and deal with the best of them.
“How the hell you been?” she called out as she approached. Jack (Bonnie didn’t think her real name, Jacinth, suited her at all) was tall with short, dark hair and, unlike the typical woman, walked with a bit of a swagger. She’d ventured farther out into space than anyone Bonnie had ever run across and, wearing a short-sleeved flightsuit and boots with a big pulse pistol strapped to her thigh, looked as though she could take on anything and everything and still come out on top. To Bonnie's mind, Jack was just too damn cool for words. “Baby about to pop out of there?”
“Not soon enough,” Bonnie
replied. “I’ve had just about enough of being pregnant. Makes it way too hard to pick cucumbers.”
“I can believe that,” Jack agreed. “I had triplets, you know, but then, I’m not a farmer.” Giving her a sweeping glance that might have seen more than Bonnie would have liked, Jack added, “Been doing okay otherwise?”
Bonnie did her best to put up a good front, but knew that while Jack might have been astute enough to see right through the ruse, she’d also had time to catch up on the local gossip. “Just fine, unless you want to count Sylor running off and one of the enocks trying to amputate my arm. That Seal ’n’ Heal came in real handy, by the way.” Holding up her arm, she added, “See? Thanks to that and your Derivian ointment, there's hardly even a scar.”
“No shit?” Jack exclaimed, examining Bonnie's arm. “Hmm. I never had a chance to test one of those things on a really bad wound. Never would’ve thought it would work so well! Should’ve bought a whole case of the damn things instead of just a dozen. Might have to go back—if I could just remember what planet I got ’em on,” she added with a laugh. Abandoning that line of conversation for the ploy it was, she eyed Bonnie speculatively. “So, Sylor ran out on you, huh? You know, I never cared much for that smooth-talking bastard— had shifty eyes. You’re probably better off without him. Getting along okay?”
“Not too bad,” Bonnie replied. “I hired someone to help me. He's around here somewhere.”
Bonnie didn’t have to turn around to see just where he was, either, because Jack's curious gaze soon found Lynx, and her eyes widened in disbelief. “Holy shit!” she exclaimed. “He's Zetithian!” She turned and shouted across the plaza. “Hey, Cat! Get over here and bring Leo with you!”
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