“Yes, sir, I can. Do I get the job?”
Jamison struggled to stand but shook off Dak’s help.
“If I can open this place tonight, it’s yours. There’s a room out back--ain’t much, but the bed’s almost big enough. I cook twice a day--early mornin’ after we close up and clean up from the night and about sundown I serve dinner to the customers. Even got me a regular cook who comes in for that. You want to eat anything else; you have to pay for it just like the others. I pay ten silver coins a day plus the room and board.”
Dak quickly calculated how long it would take before he had enough to send word to Anderas. One hundred silver coins equaled one gold coin and it took fifty gold coins to send a communication. At ten coins a day it would take him over a year to have enough saved. It was a start until he could find something better.
“Deal.” Dak smiled and offered his hand to Jamison. “Where do you keep your tools?”
By sundown there were enough chairs for ten tables. Most had no backs and if none of the customers wiggled around too much the wire and nails should hold up through the night. Jamison managed to produce the tables using empty liquor barrels and planks he ripped from the storeroom floor. Rough was about the best compliment anyone could make about the bar but it would open for business as usual.
“I’ll be twice damned and double buggered.” Jamison slapped Dak on his back. “Wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t been here and saw it myself. Looks like you got yourself a job, sonny.”
“I need to clean up before customers arrive. Which way to the room?”
“Out past the storeroom, to the left. Ain’t much,” Jamison looked around him and snorted. “But it’s a sight better than this.”
Dak picked his way around stacks of food and barrels of liquor and found his room. Jamison was right; it wasn’t much to look at but it was dry and warm. The small cot was too short but the bedding looked clean and fresh. There was a small chest for his clothes and a small table beside the cot. After the spacious rooms of Kierin’s cave, this place felt like a closet.
You have got to stop comparing everything to Kierin. What the hell is wrong with you?
Shaking away the memories, Dak washed the best he could with the bowl of water, shaved and changed clothes. By the time he made his way back to the bar it was beginning to fill with customers. The place was loud and smoky and he liked it. He hadn’t realized until that moment that he missed the conversations of men. He liked women just fine but there was just something about talking with other men to make you feel alive.
There were card games of all descriptions and watching the money changing hands gave Dak hope that it wouldn’t take quite so long to raise the capital he needed. Most of the men played with more enthusiasm than skill. The evening progressed smoothly until one burly miner stepped in front of him.
“Did you need something?” Dak asked quietly.
“Yeah, I need to kick your ass.”
“What did you say your name was? I need to know who to contact.”
“Contact for what? You as stupid as you look?”
The man was really starting to piss Dak off. He expected a little territorial posturing from a few of the self-proclaimed leaders. They needed to know how far they could push the new guy in their world. So far a calm, cold look was all it took to end the stare down. Until now. The sudden silence of the once rowdy crowd told him this was his only chance to prove he meant what he said.
“Your next of kin or someone who’s willing to claim your body for burial.”
The miner laughed hard and loud. “Jack’s all you need to know. You’re big, alright, and you talk mighty big but we,” he indicated a table of his friends with a jerk of his head, “don’t like bein’ told what to do. When I heard old Jamison call you boy it got me to thinking. Is that what you are? A big, overgrown boy? Does your mama know you’re out after dark, boy? Come on, boy; let’s see just how big and bad you are. You’re the one gonna need burying.”
He lunged but Dak shifted to the side and landed a blow to the back of the miner’s neck. Jack was out cold before he hit the floor.
“You.” Dak pointed to the three men at Jack’s table. “Get your friend out of here and I don’t want to see any of you back here again. Understood?”
The trio stumbled over each other in their rush to leave.
Jamison walked around the bar to stand beside Dak. “Go on about your business, folks. Fun’s over for tonight.”
When the games resumed, Jamison turned to Dak with a huge grin on his grizzled face and his hand stretched out. “I’ll be double dipped in horse dung!” He bellowed, pumping Dak’s hand. “I ain’t never seen a fight end that fast without even a splinter kicked up. I don’t know what you did or how you did it, but you sure impressed the hell outta me, boy, and that’s a fact. Guess I better stop callin’ you boy, huh?”
Dak laughed with his boss. “You can call me anything you want as long as you don’t mean it as an insult.”
Jamison’s cackle filled the air. “After tonight, Dak, won’t nobody risk insultin’ you. Come on, I’ll buy you a drink.”
When the last of the customers staggered out in the wee hours of the morning Dak locked the door behind them and started gathering up the glasses, cards and dice. Jamison disappeared into the back and Dak didn’t see him until he was sweeping the floor.
“Put that broom down, son. I’ll finish up.” He carried two plates piled high with food and set them on one of the makeshift tables. “Come eat, you’ve earned a good meal.”
Dak was hungry enough to chew on shoe leather and the food smelled wonderful. When he spotted the grilled steak on his plate he gave Jamison a mock glare. “This isn’t the same steak you had on your eye this morning, is it?”
“Hellava thing to ask a man. Just eat your damn food.”
Dak laughed and tackled the huge steak and mounds of fried potatoes. Thirty minutes later he was naked and trying to find a comfortable position on the cot.
He couldn’t seem to wipe the grin from his face. Before he left the table, Jamison handed him a small leather bag. Inside were two gold coins. When he asked his boss what they were for the old man actually turned red. Seems the man thought his repairs to the furnishings earned him the coins. Dak tried to give them back since all he did was quick, emergency repairs--nothing worth two gold coins. Jamison muttered something about paying good wages for good work before storming out to his own quarters.
Looked like luck was finally on his side. He needed a place to stay and a job and got both. He needed to find a way to make more than his salary and if Jamison wanted to pay him to do the maintenance work around the bar, he was more than willing. Everything was going to be okay. He’d soon be able to contact JarDan and start looking for his men. Anything past that he didn’t want to think about.
That first night set the pattern for the next two months. Word spread about Jamison’s new bouncer and most of the customers followed the rules and everyone had an enjoyable evening. About once a week some young rooster would strut in thinking he could take on the big man. He soon realized the error in his judgment and found somewhere else to spend his money.
With very little trouble from the customers, Dak had plenty of time to join the card games. He won a little and lost a little but was too cautious with his money to risk it on luck. At the end of the night he would crawl into bed with a bottle of Jamison’s private stock and try to silence Kierin’s voice and drown his memories of her.
Even his subconscious betrayed him. He dreamed of Anderas and the home he would never again see; of JarDan and Melodie in Arica’s garden; of memories both bitter and sweet. As the days turned into weeks, the dreams changed. JarDan no longer walked among the roses with Melodie. Kierin now sat in the grass playing with a dark-haired boy. Her son. His son. He saw them in every special place he remembered and his anguish and heartache knew no bounds.
He should hate her for what she did but he couldn’t and he refused to examine what he did fee
l for the crystal witch. The alcohol was a temporary release from reality.
Life was practically perfect. Until, he tried to sleep. When he closed his eyes his mind and body betrayed him. He heard the whisper of Kierin’s voice in the breeze coming through the open window. Felt the caress of her hand every time the blanket shifted. Even the soap he used when he shaved reminded him of Kierin.
His body hardened instantly. He couldn’t believe he could still want her after what she did but the proof was pulsing painfully against his abdomen.
It was great sex and I want more. That’s all. Make that unbelievable sex. Mind-blowing sex. Universe-altering sex.
“By the Beard of the Prophet, give it a rest.” Dak mumbled in the dark. “So the sex was the best you’ve ever had. Get over it.”
He tossed around in the bed until total physical exhaustion took control of his whirling thoughts and he went to sleep.
Chapter Eighteen
Before his feet hit the floor Dak was running for the back door, emptying the contents of his stomach and begging to die. By the third day Jamison noticed.
“Boy, you need to lay off that bug juice for a while, don’cha think?”
“Must have been something I ate.” Dak mumbled wishing the man would go away and let him die in peace.
Jamison slapped him on the back and laughed. “You could be right about that. I ain’t never seen a body boil kava meat in the first place and then to dip that slimy, grey hunk of meat in honey and roll it in salt before ya eat it--well, that would make most any man hurl.”
Dak’s stomach rumbled ominously at the mention of food. “Please. If you have a shred of human compassion you will change the subject.”
Jamison left him sitting in the grass behind the bar. The last Dak heard was the older man grumbling about fools and drunks. So he was hitting the bottle a little heavy the past few days. He had to do something to silence that annoying voice in his head whispering to him of what might have been. He’d ask Jamison if there was a physician nearby who could prescribe a sleeping medicine if the alcohol continued making him so sick.
* * * *
“Good morning. How may I help you?”
Dak eyed the woman dressed in white behind the counter. She seemed harmless enough despite the reptilian green skin. The smile was as real as the gentle concern in her yellow eyes.
“I’d like to see the physician.”
“That would be me, young man. I’m called Selah. What seems to be the problem?”
He glanced around the small room. A handful of straight-back chairs lined the pale blue walls and a table with small toys stacked neatly in the center completed the furnishings. The counter where he and the physician were standing was the only other item in the room. This was nothing like the Medi Centers on Anderas or his travel craft, but he wasn’t in a position to complain.
“I’ve had trouble keeping food down for several days.”
“Oh, my,” Selah indicated a door behind her. “Let’s see what we can find out.”
She led Dak to a windowless room painted the same light blue as the waiting area. A narrow cot sat in one corner; glass fronted shelves lined most of the walls; and a small table with two low chairs occupied the center of the floor.
“Please be seated and tell me about this problem.”
“It started a week ago--maybe a little longer. I wake up every morning and before my feet hit the floor, I’m running for the door.”
“Hmm.” She mumbled after making notes on her pad. “Anything else unusual in your daily routine?”
“Like what?” He wasn’t too impressed with her hmm. What the hell did that mean, anyway?
“Anything that isn’t normal for you.” She stopped scribbling long enough to look at him and smile.
Dak thought about his normal day. Wake up, throw up. “I’ve been eating some pretty strange meals. Could that be what’s making me sick?”
“Possibly. What do you consider strange?”
“Boiled kava in honey and salt.” His stomach clenched just thinking about it.
“I think I’m glad to be a vegetarian.” Selah said with a delicate shudder. “I thought kava was always roasted or fried?”
“That’s what I thought, but, honestly Selah, I can’t get enough of the stuff.”
“What else?” At least she was looking at him instead of the note pad. Somehow that didn’t make him feel any better.
“I’m always sleepy, but I work nights and I’m not used to sleeping during the day. I have a difficult time getting to sleep.” He shifted on the chair that was too low for his long legs. “My feet are swollen.”
“Any fever? Rash? Insect bite?” She asked, scribbling again.
“No. Just the problem with my food.”
“I’m going to do a full body scan. That should tell us if there’s anything to worry about. Please place your back firmly against that metal plate on the wall and remain as still as possible. This should only take a few minutes.”
Dak followed her instructions and watched while she programmed her monitor and began the process.
“If you were female, I’d say you were pregnant.” Selah laughed. “I had the same symptoms when I carried my children.”
Dak prayed his face didn’t betray him. Kierin was pregnant. Morning sickness. He felt her cramping when she had her period but she said it was because of all the crystals. There aren’t that many crystals in the whole town. So why are you experiencing her morning sickness?
Thirty minutes later he left with pills for the morning sickness and a mild sedative to help him sleep. The diagnosis was an intestinal infection. Dak knew better. He was sharing all the early stages of Kierin’s pregnancy. If she was blocking these symptoms like she did her menstrual cramps she was in worse shape than he could even imagine.
So what are you going to do about it?
Nothing! She tricked you remember.
She lied.
She didn’t have a choice.
I left her alone.
You left her with Talon.
He’s blind.
Way to go, idiot. You’re arguing with yourself.
Determined to ignore his own internal debate, Dak headed back to the bar. Saturday night meant the place would be packed and he actually hoped there would be trouble. He could use a good, knuckle-busting, lip-splitting brawl to bring his testosterone levels back up to manly levels.
* * * *
“What’s got ya so frowned up, son?”
Dak glanced down at Jamison sitting on the floor behind the bar. “It’s after midnight and there hasn’t been the first cross word. Why doesn’t someone start a fight? And why are you sitting on the floor?” He growled. When Jamison raised his eyebrow Dak knew his attitude was about to get him in trouble. “Sorry. I’m in a piss-ass mood tonight.”
“Ya need to get laid.” Jamison stated baldly, causing Dak to choke on his drink. “I’m serious, son. Ya been walking around like a damned eunuch since ya got here. I ain’t never seen ya with a woman. Ya do like the women don’cha?”
“I like women just fine.” Dak replied with a straight face. He needed to change the subject--fast. “You never did tell me why you’re sitting on the floor.”
“My bar. My floor. I’ll sit on it anytime I feel like it. Ya think yur bad enough to do somethin’ about it?”
“Guess it’s not my business.” Dak answered before turning back to the action in the room.
“I don’ want Gussie to see me.” Jamison mumbled. “She won’t come through the door but she’s on the prowl and if she sees me I’m a gonner fer sure.”
“Who’s Gussie?” Dak had witnessed Jamison stand down the rowdiest miner without blinking. Whoever Gussie was she had him spooked.
“My wife.” Jamison whispered.
“Wife?” Dak yelled. “I didn’t know you were married.”
“Shut yur fool mouth. Ya want every mother lovin’ loser in the place to hear ya. We ain’t lived together fur near ten years an’ I don�
��t aim to start back now. She’s got some fool notion that we’re some kinda soul mates if ya can believe such crap. Sez she feels every time I get hurt or sick. Sez she gets sick at the same time. Just a load of crap if ya ask me. Now she’s done tracked me from clear the other side of the planet.”
Dak wanted to laugh but didn’t dare. Besides, it looked like he and Gussie had something in common.
“I’ll protect you, Jamison. It’s what you pay me to do.” He smiled at the worried man.
“Smart ass. Just you wait. Some little gal’s gonna tie you up good and proper one of these days ‘n then ya won’ be so full of shit.”
* * * *
Sunrise brought an end to Jamison’s worries and Dak made quick work of the cleaning while Jamison cooked breakfast. He was looking forward to a good day’s rest with one of the sleeping pills from the doctor. He was running on pure determination.
“Sit down. Eat up. Go to bed. I don’ want nobody thinkin’ there’s anybody here.” He slammed the plates of steak and potatoes on the table.
“You said she wouldn’t come through the door.” Dak asked around a mouthful of the potatoes. So far, no queasy stomach.
“She won’ come in here at night with all the drinkin’ and gamblin’. Daylight gives her all the courage she needs to bust my ass.” Jamison kept one eye on his plate and one on the window. “Eat faster, Dak, she could be comin’ down the road as we sit here.”
“Jamison you can’t keep hiding. What happens when you have to go for supplies? If she’s tracked you for this long, do you really think hiding in the store room or crouched behind the bar is going to dissuade her for long? Have you tried talking to her?”
“That old gal don’ know the meanin’ of leave me be. She wants to make an honest man of me. Now I ask ya, do I look like the kinda man to go to dinner parties ‘n shop fer women’s foolishness.” Jamison pushed his plate across the table. “Now look what ya jus’ did. Ya made me lose my appetite. I’m goin’ to bed.”
Men of Anderas II: Dak the Protector Page 16