Warily, he reached out for the spoon, but Bonnie pulled it back. "Uh-uh," she said with an evil shake of her head. "Just take a bite."
Backing off, he said, "I will not."
"Oh, yes you will," she said roundly, "because if you don't, I'll never fix another meal for you again! You'll have to pick your own vegetables out of the garden and cook them yourself!"
This wasn't much of a threat—and she never would have followed through with it anyway—but crossing his arms belligerently, Lynx did his best to top it with one of his own.
"I will not help you give birth to your child if you do not feed me."
Bonnie couldn't help but laugh. "Women have been having babies for millions of years, Lynx. I wouldn't be the first to go it alone. Besides, I can always call one of the neighbors. Zuannis or Salan would come for moral support, if nothing else." Bonnie knew this wasn't entirely true, for while Zuannis had given birth to several children, the mere thought of being present while someone else was in labor made her feel faint. She'd offered her husband's help instead, but Joachen hadn't seemed any more excited at the prospect than Lynx was. Hatul, however, had overheard the conversation while he was fingering the vegetables and had been quick to offer his assistance. Bonnie had hastily declined, though upon further reflection decided that his sucker-tipped fingers might be useful when it came to pulling a reluctant infant out into the world.
Not backing down one bit, Lynx just stood there, glaring at her.
"Oh, come on, Lynx!" she cajoled. "It won't kill you, and I don't care what religion you belong to, tasting this won't send you to hell."
Still wary, he asked, "What is it?" Ordinarily, Lynx wouldn't have asked that question, but something in her manner warned him that she was trying to trick him in some way.
"Not gonna tell ya," Bonnie taunted him. "You have to guess. Come on, open your mouth—close your eyes if you have to—but just taste it."
Lynx was standing a step down from her on the side of the porch, and as Bonnie had set the bowl down on the railing before she poked a spoonful in his mouth, she had a hand free when he tried to bolt. Catching him by the front of his shirt, she said, "Oh, no you don't! You aren't running off this time! Now, you just chew that up and swallow it—slowly!—and look at me while you do it; I want to see your reaction."
Bonnie watched as Lynx's expression changed from one of stubborn denial to an unabashed display of pleasure. Having been caught completely unawares by her ploy—his first thought had been that it was going to taste horrible—it struck him with as much impact as she'd hoped it would. Knowing how the creamy butter was melting on his tongue as the sugar, vanilla, and salt sent his taste buds into overdrive, Bonnie's mind reeled for a moment; if only she could elicit such a response from him with a kiss or the touch of her hand! As he bit down on the chips and the chocolate added its own magic, she fought the urge to glance down at his groin and see if the effect was as profound as it appeared.
"Good?" she inquired curiously, though the look on his face was proof enough.
Lynx nodded, blinking slowly. "It is what the cookies are made from."
"Good guess," she said. "Now, tell me, Lynx, isn't that the best thing you've ever tasted in your life?"
Lynx couldn't lie. "I believe it is," he replied.
"And it didn't kill you to eat it in front of me, did it?"
"No," he admitted. "It did not."
"You know, Lynx, food is one of those things that should be shared," Bonnie said gently. "Please, tell me why you can't sit down at the table with me." When he hesitated she almost poked another spoonful in his mouth but instead added, "I promise, I won't laugh."
Lynx didn't know why he spoke, perhaps it was her assurance that she wouldn't laugh, but whatever the reason, to her surprise, he answered her question. "I was the slave of other slaves," he said, "and was starved when I did not please them." Bonnie could see the pain and humiliation he must have felt sweep across his features. This was more difficult for him than she would ever have imagined. "And when they finally let me eat, I had to eat as quickly as I could." He paused as a tremor shook him. "I can still hear their laughter."
So that was why he had to carry his food off to eat it, she thought, the way a stray dog would do when it knows it's about to be kicked for stealing scraps. Bonnie wondered if Lynx had been abused in that way, but also knew that abuse wasn't always physical. The humiliation had undoubtedly hurt him far more than the starvation ever had.
"I won't laugh," she promised. "And Lynx, I know you don't like being around me, but could you please try—at least have dinner with me once in a while?"
She'd lost him, though. Having partially spilled his guts, he clammed up again. She could almost see the walls going back up around him.
"I'll always keep you well-fed!" she said desperately. "Don't ever believe me when I say I won't! It's nothing more than an idle threat—to be honest, I really have no hold over you at all! You could leave here right now, and Drummond would find you another job—I'm sure there's a long list of others who could use your help— and it's good help, Lynx!" she said earnestly. "I'm paying you all I can, and it's still not enough." She felt tears filling her eyes. "You've helped me in so many ways. I'd like to return the favor, but all I can do is pay you and feed you—you won't live in the house, and that's okay, not many hired hands do, but I want to talk to you, or something—anything! Like I said before, it's lonely out here! I see my friends now and then, but it isn't the same as talking to someone you actually see every day. Don't you ever get lonely? Don't you sometimes wish all you had to do was reach out and know that someone would be there for you?"
Bonnie knew what his reply would be even before she asked that, but it still hurt.
It hurt him, as well. Lynx could see the pain he was inflicting, but if he relented, he knew he would have to spend more time close to her, knowing she wanted something from him that he was unable to give. "I prefer to be alone," he said, and it wasn't a lie, either. Being alone was much easier for him.
" Is that something else you never had, like a decent meal?"
Nodding, he replied, "Yes. I find that solitude is even more important than getting enough to eat."
"Well," she said, doing her best to bow to the inevitable, "if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me." With a heavy sigh, she picked up the bowl of cookie dough and turned to go back inside, half intending to eat every last bit of it, when her water chose that moment to break, completely ruining her exit.
"Well, of all the rotten timing!" she exclaimed. "Though I probably ought to be glad it happened on the porch and not in the middle of the kitchen floor!" She looked at Lynx questioningly. "So, what do we do now, Lynx? Boil water?"
"Boil water?" he echoed.
"Never mind," she replied. "Old Earth joke. Guess I'll just bake these cookies and then go lie down or something—or is it better to walk around?"
"You may do whatever you wish," he replied. He stood there hesitantly. Lynx had never asked her for anything before and wasn't quite sure how to do it.
Bonnie could see the assortment of emotions roiling inside him. She didn't know what his problem was, but she had an idea he was about to back out on her. "What now?"
"Before you bake the cookies," he began.
"Do what? Take a shower?"
He shook his head and sighed. "I would like more," he said, gesturing toward the bowl.
"Ah-ha!" she said gleefully. "I knew I could get to you with that! C'mon, Lynx. Let's get sick on cookie dough, and then we'll have a baby."
AAA
<*> <*> <*> V V T
That's not exactly how it went, but they did start off that way—and it at least got Lynx inside the house. Unfortunately, Bonnie hadn't eaten much more than the equivalent of two cookies before she began having some serious pains and decided that her bed was probably the best place to be.
It was hot as hell. Bonnie was totally miserable. Lynx, on the other hand, was w
onderful.
It was obvious he'd delivered babies before, and if there was anything else he could possibly have done to help her, Bonnie couldn't imagine what it might have been. He rubbed her back, encouraged her, and coached her on how to breathe correctly to ease the pains. He sponged her overheated body with cool water, and as her labor stretched on into the night, he even held her in his arms and purred. His warm body against her back felt more soothing than anything ever had before, but, unfortunately, it made her feel that much worse, knowing what she was missing the rest of the time. She knew she would never get that kind of attention from him again unless she had another baby, which was doubtful, given the circumstances, nor would she ever sleep with him again. There were a few times when her tears had nothing to do with labor pains.
Dozing at intervals, Bonnie drifted into a marvelous fantasy, imagining what it would be like to be loved by this man. He was so patient, so gentle, his nature so completely different from the way he'd acted around her before, and her eyes filled with tears whenever she thought about it. She knew quite well that she would never be loved by him, not like this, and it was breaking her heart.
Lynx relaxed into the old ways with practiced ease. He'd always loved caring for women in labor, because that was when they seemed to appreciate his efforts the most. No one had ever yelled at him to do anything else; they let him be, let him focus his attention on the one woman for as long as it took. In a way, it was one of the few times he was able to rest. He would lie down with the woman and hold her, caress her and, yes, pretend that he loved her—that she was giving birth to their child—a child whom she wanted more than anything. He could pretend that he was loved, as well. After the birth, things would go back to the way they were, but for that short space of time, Lynx was content.
Bonnie's labor lasted well into the night, and Lynx stayed with her. He knew it was only what she needed that mattered, but he forgot that for a brief interval when he allowed himself to pretend as he had done so many times in the past. Drowning in her scent and intoxicated by the feel of her body in his arms, he forgot where he was, even who he was, and kissed her lovingly while she slept.
The day was dawning when Bonnie's daughter was born, and when Lynx took the baby in his arms and held her with such tenderness, all Bonnie wanted to do was cry. He held her for what seemed like an eternity before taking a deep breath and, in a very matter-of-fact tone, said, "Your child is not normal."
Bonnie's heart slid to her feet. "What do you mean, 'not normal'?"
He brought the baby closer, showing Bonnie the ridged forehead and backwardly slanted ears.
Quickly regaining her composure, Bonnie said: "She's normal enough for a half-Vessonian. I should have warned you. Sylor wasn't Terran."
"Forgive me," Lynx said stiffly. "I did not intend to cause you distress. I did not know about her father."
If Bonnie felt any distress at that point, it had nothing to do with whether or not her daughter was normal, but with whether or not Lynx would hate the child as much as he hated all other women. He can mess with my mind all he likes, Bonnie thought, but she didn't want her daughter brought into it.
"You didn't know about Sylor because I didn't tell you," Bonnie said wearily. "He's gone, and I'm trying very hard to forget about him—which won't be easy with Shaulla looking just like him." Jack's three boys looked just like their father, too, she remembered. Lynx's kids would probably be every bit as cute, but that was something Bonnie would never know—no matter what Cat might suggest.
Reaching out, Bonnie took her baby from Lynx, wondering if the child could feel how much he despised her. Bonnie wanted to tell him to go away and never come back, but couldn't bring herself to do it.
"Thank you, Lynx," she said instead. "I couldn't have done it without you."
His face was an unreadable mask. Now that Shaulla was born, he'd retreated again; Bonnie didn't even have to be looking at him to know that. Unfortunately, Bonnie now knew what she'd been missing—had seen a side of Lynx that she hadn't even known existed—and having learned that, she knew she couldn't stand the fact that she loved him while he despised her. She made up her mind to send him back to Drummond as soon as she was sure she could manage everything without him. She knew very well he wouldn't be deported; he could get a job as a mechanic anywhere.
Nodding in reply, he said, "Call me if you need me."
Bonnie made up her mind not to call him unless one of them was dying. Then he left her alone with her new daughter, and they both cried.
Lynx left the house in more torment than ever before. How could he have said such a thing to a new mother? He knew very well that having an abnormal child was a woman's worst fear, though the other women of his experience had always been more afraid that the child would look like him—even more so than if they'd given birth to a monster.
Shaulla might have been half-Vessonian, but to Lynx, she was still beautiful—so innocent and new. Not like the ones who were grown. If only she could stay that way, he thought wistfully, and not grow up to become the stuff of his nightmares.
But perhaps this one would be different. After all, she had the same name as his mother, and it was possible that she would grow up liking him and not learn to treat him with contempt.
Reminding himself that he only worked for Bonnie, and that Shaulla would always know him as the "hired hand," he still longed for a closer relationship with her. They could at least be friends. He would teach her all he knew about machinery and construction and anything else she wanted to learn from him. Of course, he knew that he couldn't expect Bonnie to encourage this sort of thing.
Lynx found himself wishing that he could have had a chance with a woman who had grown up knowing him and at least liking him. But all of those young girls he had known before the war were gone now, and he couldn't have given them joy the way he once had anyway. That part of him was lost forever.
Lynx went to the pump and turned it on full force, letting the cold water run through his hair and down his back, washing away the tension and the fragments of his dreams—dreams that were pointless to indulge in, because they never came true and never would. He had felt it every time he brought a child out into the light, that quick surge of hope, only to have it be cast down again when he realized that once again it hadn't happened. And even though he knew it to be completely impossible, Shaulla's birth affected him no differently than any of the others. As always, the child he delivered hadn't resembled him in the slightest. She belonged to someone else.
When Bonnie contacted Drummond the next day to report Shaulla's birth, he listened carefully but still wasn't sure what he was hearing. "You're sure you want it to read like that?"
"Yes, I'm sure," she said firmly. "If Sylor ever comes back, I don't want him meddling or trying to share custody or anything like that. I don't want his name anywhere on it."
"Suit yourself," he said, shaking his head. "Not sure this is the answer, but—"
"Do I have to remind you of what happened between us?"
"No, but it could be disproved easily enough if he ever decided to put up a fight," Drummond pointed out. "But if you're sure that's what you want to do, while you're at it, you might want to get his name off the deed to your land, too."
"Is there any way to do that?"
"Hmmm, been gone long enough that you could claim abandonment," suggested Drummond. "Or since he took money, you could claim that as the purchase price for his share." Scratching his chin, he added, "Might even be able to make it look legal."
"That'd be great," Bonnie said. "Now that you mention it, I don't want him coming back claiming to own the place, either. I'm done with him."
"Sounds like it," Drummond commented, thinking that getting on Bonnie's bad side hadn't been in Sylor's best interests. "Still don't want to report him? Just say the word, and I'll sic Zerk and the boys on him to track him down—really should, you know."
"No," she said. "He's probably hooked up with some other g
ullible woman by now and has his name on her property too."
"I haven't seen anything to that effect," Drummond said. "But then, he might have gone out of my territory."
Bonnie could only hope that was true. Trying to sound nonchalant, she said: "Hey, do you have anyone else looking for a job?"
Not answering her question, he asked, "You need more help? What's the matter? That Zetithian boy not working out?"
"It's not that," Bonnie said truthfully. "I just don't think he's very happy working here."
"Well, he's a fool not to!" Drummond said roundly.
"Working for you is a damn sight better than working in the mines!"
"Yes, but it's not what he had planned," she said, not wanting to explain any further. "Don't you have any other jobs for him?"
"Sure," he said. "But nothing any different than what he's doing now."
Cat Star 04 - Outcast Page 13
