Cat Star 04 - Outcast

by Cheryl Brooks

  Perhaps not, Bonnie thought, but at least it would be a job working for someone else. Her chest constricted, and she swallowed hard, fighting back sudden tears. That sort of thing was happening to her more frequently than ever, and she was getting tired of it.

  "I could give him a list, and he could check it out," Drummond went on. "But if I were you, I'd hang onto him until someone else shows up. It's still not a good time for you to be working that place all by yourself, especially now that you've had the baby."

  "I'm not helpless!" Bonnie protested. "You know I'm not!"

  "Never said you were," he returned promptly. "But plenty of other people need help, and I thought you needed it the most, so I sent him to you. You should keep him."

  "Lynx isn't a slave anymore," Bonnie reminded him. "I can't very well keep him if he doesn't want to stay."

  "Then why are you the one telling me this?" Drummond demanded. "Seems to me if he wants a different job so damn bad, he should be talking to me himself."

  "He hasn't actually said anything," Bonnie admitted. "Ijust... thought I'd ask."

  "And now you have, and I've told you there's no one to replace him." Drummond leveled a stern look at Bonnie through the viewscreen. "If he's unhappy enough to want to quit, then he can see me about another job, but in the meantime, you keep him. "

  "That's what I thought you'd say," Bonnie said with a sigh. "But please, tell me if anything changes."

  Something in his expression made Bonnie think he wasn't going to, but he said, "Sure thing, Bon-bon. But don't you go worrying yourself about it. Just take good care of that baby."

  "I will," she replied and terminated the link. She shook her head sadly, thinking that Drummond was probably just as untrustworthy as all the rest. It just wasn't as obvious.

  Bonnie stayed inside for the next day or two, simply setting Lynx's plate out on the porch for him. She felt very clumsy with Ulla at first and figured that, as good as he was at delivering babies, Lynx probably knew a whole lot more about caring for one than she did. At one point she was wishing she could ask him for some advice on breast-feeding, but she and Ulla finally got the hang of it. While she lay beside her happily suck­ling infant, Bonnie laughed out loud as she imagined the look on Lynx's face if she actually had asked him.

  On the third day, having rigged up a sling to carry Ulla in, Bonnie ventured out with her after lunch and wound up doing some work in the garden. Not surpris­ingly, she tired pretty quickly, and Ulla went to sleep. Bonnie was so exhausted she didn't think she could even make it back to the house without lying down for a while, but was able to make it to the shade of a peach tree before she sank down gratefully in the cool grass.

  Putting Ulla down gently so as not to wake her, Bonnie lay down beside her with Kipper curled up against her back. She quickly fell asleep and dreamed of making love with Lynx in the shade while her baby slept. In her dream, Lynx looked at her with the eyes of a lover; aglow with the kind of tenderness she'd yet to see there while she was awake. She could almost feel him purr­ing, feel his body sinking into her own, feel the heat, and most of all, feel the love.

  Waking from her dream, Bonnie was startled to dis­cover Lynx sitting nearby holding Ulla. The tenderness Bonnie was longing for was all there, but it was for her daughter, not for herself. Lynx held Ulla as though she were his own child, his eyes closed as he purred softly. Seeming to sense Bonnie's gaze, he opened his eyes to find her watching him.

  "You did not call me," he said quietly.

  "Should I have?" she asked.

  Lynx seemed puzzled for a moment, as though un­able to form a reply. Finally, he said, "I thought you would." He'd actually hoped she would, but he wasn't ready to admit it—not yet.

  "Didn't need anything," she said with what she hoped was a nonchalant shrug. "I'm not helpless, you know." Which was what she had told Drummond—and it was true; she wasn't helpless. Bonnie didn't ask for much from anybody. The only thing above and beyond the call of duty that she'd ever asked Lynx for was a little companionship, and she hadn't gotten it. "And she's a good baby," Bonnie added.

  Lynx nodded, still holding Bonnie's daughter as though reluctant to give her up. It seemed that Lynx's dislike of women didn't include infants, but how long would it be before he began to treat Ulla with the same contempt he had for her mother? Bonnie knew that it would be very hurtful for a young girl to be treated with kindness until she reached a certain age and then sud­denly be rejected by him for no apparent reason. She hated to put Ulla through that, but the next words that Lynx uttered proved that rejecting her was the farthest thing from his mind.

  "I... like children," he said finally. "If you ever need help with her..." His voice trailed off as he gazed down at Ulla's tiny face where she lay sleeping in his arms.

  Bonnie stared at him in frank disbelief. She'd as­sumed that he was experienced in their care, but that he actually liked children hadn't occurred to her. It seemed impossible, but his rapt expression was enough to assure her that he was telling the truth. Bonnie reminded her­self that he had always been honest with her—she might not have always liked what he had to say, but if he'd ever lied, Bonnie certainly couldn't prove it. It seemed odd to her that a man with such a fondness for children could have such a negative attitude toward women— which made it extremely doubtful that he'd ever have any children of his own—but perhaps he only liked other people's kids.

  She shook her head and said with an odd laugh, "I can't figure you out, Lynx. Maybe I should just quit trying."

  Looking up at him, Bonnie realized that it was only a matter of time before her "desire" for him returned—in fact, she was surprised he couldn't pick up the scent of what she'd been dreaming. She'd had her baby, and though she knew that a new baby often disrupted the intimacy between a husband and wife, Bonnie had only to look at Lynx sitting there holding her child to know that watching him with Ulla would only make her want him that much more.

  Seeing this gentler side of him was stimulus enough, but Lynx had also grown more attractive during the three months he'd spent on Bonnie's farm. He'd lost the hunted, starved look he'd had when she first met him, and his hair was growing longer. Why he hadn't cut it, Bonnie didn't know and didn't ask, but it was possible that Cat's words on the subject had made a difference to him. He'd had plenty of muscle to begin with, but the work he'd been doing had built him up, and he was filling out his clothes much better than he had before. He might not have had Cat's personali­ty—or his long black hair—but he was developing the same stunning physique.

  As Ulla began to cry, Bonnie reached out to take her from Lynx, but the child's crying ceased immediately as Lynx began to rock back and forth, his purring becom­ing even louder as he patted her.

  "Well, you obviously know what you're doing," Bonnie admitted with some reluctance. Taking a deep breath to steady her emotions, she went on to say, "I— I'll let you know if I ever need any help." As she lay there watching him, though, her curiosity got the better of her. " Where'd you learn that, anyway? Have a lot of brothers and sisters?"

  He nodded. "Yes," he replied. "On Zetith, it was customary for older children to take care of the young ones, and when I was a slave, the other slaves had many children."

  Bonnie remembered that he said he'd been the slave of other slaves, and apparently at least some of them had been female. If it was during that time that he'd developed his dislike of women, Bonnie thought it odd that he liked children any more than he liked their moth­ers. She reminded herself that it was hard not to like babies—they have the knack of bringing out the nurtur­ing instincts in just about everyone.

  "That was where you learned to deliver babies then?"

  He nodded, his purring never ceasing.

  "Well," Bonnie said briskly, "you're very good at it! You should think more about what Vladen said. We could use someone like you around here to help with other births."

  As soon as she'd said it, Bonnie wished she hadn't, because Lynx looked positively stricken at
the mere mention of the idea.

  "Okay, then, maybe not," she went on smoothly. "Look, you can rock Ulla anytime you like. I'm sure she'll enjoy it." Which she seemed to be doing right then; utterly content and completely relaxed in his arms.

  In his arms. Bonnie knew what that felt like, too, and began to envy her daughter.

  Putting those painful thoughts firmly aside, she got to her feet, noting that the sun was beginning to set. "I'll just go get dinner started," she said hastily. "You can play with Ulla while I'm cooking."

  Lynx nodded and closed his eyes again, his face taking on an expression of serenity the likes of which Bonnie had never seen. No, he doesn 't want me to stay here with him. I am the farthest thing from his mind. He only wants to hold my child.

  When Lynx had seen Bonnie lying there, fast asleep, his first impulse was to lie down beside her and take her in his arms and kiss her until she couldn't think anymore— until he couldn't think anymore—and show her how sorry he was that they couldn't be together. He wanted to look down into her deep blue eyes and see his own desire reflected there; watch her expression as he gave her everything he had to give. He thought back to the time when mating with a woman could truly take him away to a better place, one where nothing bad had ever happened to him or to his world. But he couldn't do that, so he did the next best thing.

  And with his eyes closed and Shaulla in his arms, Lynx could pretend again. Pretend that all the horrors of his past had never taken place, and that he was sitting in the shade while the sun set and his child slept. It was another of his dreams. His mind flowed outward, touch­ing the sky, the clouds, the grass, and the trees. He was at peace with a baby in his arms. Even in his former life, it was one of the few times he'd ever been left alone, be­cause no mother wanted to disturb him while he purred and rocked her crying child to sleep, and neither had Bonnie. He was safe for now.

  Chapter 10

  The more time Bonnie spent with Ulla, the more she began to understand why Sylor had left when he did. If he'd had second thoughts about starting a family, then leaving before Bonnie even looked pregnant had prob­ably been his best move. It would be so much harder to leave after your child was born and you had gazed into her eyes.

  The bond between mother and child was strong, and Bonnie could now understand why her own mother hadn't wanted her to leave Earth to begin a new life on Terra Minor. Bonnie didn't want Ulla out of her sight, let alone living on another planet.

  The bond between father and child must have counted for something, too, because even though Lynx wasn't her father, he went to a lot of trouble to see that Ulla was comfortable.

  The first thing he did was build a cradle for her to nap in while they worked in the garden. The cradle was about waist-high with a roof over it to keep the sun out of her eyes—she wouldn't have gotten wet if it rained, either. Then he began carving toys for her; highly pol­ished wooden toys, with not a splinter or a rough spot on them anywhere. He was quick on his feet, too. She had only to whimper before he was right there to see what the trouble was, and he could change a diaper three times faster than Bonnie could. Plus, he could wrap her up in a neat little bundle, while Bonnie's efforts always seemed to leave a foot sticking out.

  He began taking care of Bonnie, too. He would bring her water, telling her that she needed to drink more fluids, or tell her to rest when even Bonnie knew she had worked too long and was getting tired. Bonnie suspected it was just to help her produce more milk to nurture his little darling, but fortunately, he never put it that way.

  Vladen came by when Ulla was about two weeks old and proclaimed that all was well with both mother and child. "Thought you might have some trouble with those forehead ridges during the delivery," he remarked. "But it looks as though you did just fine."

  "Do you mean to tell me you were concerned about that?" Bonnie said ominously.

  "Just a thought, my dear," he said soothingly. "Noth­ing to worry about—as you can readily see! Won't have any trouble at all with the next one!"

  "There won't be a next one," she said.

  "Oh?" he said, nonplussed. "I would have thought..." His voice trailed off suggestively, obviously referring to Lynx.

  "No," Bonnie said firmly. "There will be no more."

  "But, Cat and Leo can cross with—"

  "What they can do has nothing to do with me and Lynx," she said, cutting him off before he could finish. Things were bad enough as it was; hearing all the details of what she'd been missing would only make it worse.

  "But Zetithians are—"

  "I don't know what you've heard about them—from Jack or Tisana or anyone else," Bonnie said evenly, "but this one is different. He likes the baby just fine, but he doesn't like women at all."

  Vladen obviously didn't believe her. "Perhaps his nose is congested," he muttered, idly rubbing his jaw ridges. "I have treatments for that."

  "Trust me, his nose works just fine!" Bonnie said, rapidly becoming exasperated. "And don't you dare say a word to him about it!"

  "A bit sore on that subject, are we?" Vladen observed, his raised brow pushing his bristly blond hair even far­ther back on his high forehead.

  Bonnie blew out a pent-up breath and glared at him. "For once, Doctor" she said firmly, "it's none of your business."

  He chuckled knowingly. "Of course it isn't. Don't know what I'm talking about, either, do I?" Then his expression changed abruptly. "But perhaps it isn't his nose that's the problem. Perhaps it's you."

  "Me?" she repeated in disbelief. "What'swrongwithme?"

  "Well, Sylor did you a very nasty turn by leaving you like that," he said, casually picking up Ulla to set her on his knee. "Perhaps you've been taking it out on that Zetithian boy."

  "He isn't a boy, Vladen!" Bonnie reminded him.

  "Don't change the subject, Bonnie!" Vladen scolded. "All men are not like Sylor! Remember that!"

  "No, some of them are like you," she said with a wry smile. "Irritating, overbearing—"

  "And wonderfully wise," he finished for her, switch­ing on his scanner to check Ulla. "Perfect child," he said. "Sometimes that Vessonian-Terran mix makes for a weak heart, but she's ticking along just fine."

  "Weak heart?" Bonnie exclaimed, feeling her own skip a few beats. " Weak heart?You re telling me that now?"

  "Well, I've checked her right along," he reminded Bonnie, "and her heart was always normal, but until a child is born, you never really know, do you?"

  She stood there gaping at him for a long moment be­fore she was even able to speak. "No, I suppose you don't," she said. "But couldn't you have at least warned me about all of this?"

  "And had you worried sick the whole time?" he said with a smile. "Not worth the stress, my dear. I do my best to avoid putting unnecessary fears into the heads of pregnant women. Believe me, they find enough things to worry about on their own!" Vladen stood up, hand­ing Ulla back to Bonnie. "Well, then," he said briskly. "Must be off! Take good care of them."

  "Them?" she echoed.

  "The baby and the Zetithian," he replied. "Though I believe he requires even more care than the child."

  "No, he doesn't," she said wistfully. "Lynx doesn't seem to need much of anything. All I do is feed him."

  Vladen looked so smug, Bonnie considered it a won­der his jaw ridges didn't pop right through his skin. "I doubt that," he said. "He's one of the neediest men I've ever seen."

  "Well, he might be needy," Bonnie grumbled, "but he sure doesn't act like it! He never asks for anything, and most of what I've given him, he doesn't seem to want."

  "Yes, well, some women are more needy than they're willing to admit, too," Vladen said mysteriously.

  "Oh, I'm sure they are," Bonnie agreed in an effort to shut him up. "And I'm sure you think I'm one of them.

  But I'm also sure you have other patients waiting for you, so I won't keep you."

  "Any eggs available?" he asked on the way out. "And some of that white squash with the scalloped edges?"

  "Sure," s
he said wearily. "Got plenty of both. Help yourself to anything you like—on the house."

  "That would make it seem as though you were pay­ing me for my services!" he said indignantly, clearly affronted by the suggestion. "Which you know very well I cannot do! I will pay for what I get from you!"

  Bonnie chuckled in spite of herself. "I suppose the advice was free too?"

  "Well, yes—yes, of course it was!" he sputtered.

  Bonnie sighed, pulling some eggs out of the fridge. "I guess you get what you pay for."

  And in Bonnie's opinion, it was lousy advice, be­cause it was obvious to her that Lynx didn't need her or anything she could do for him. He didn't need any­thing but his precious solitude and the chance to rock Shaulla—and something to eat once in a while.

  She was beginning to not only need him again, but want him and crave him. When she looked at Lynx, all she could think about was kissing those lips, running her fin­gers through his curls, and holding his purring body close to her own. She was jealous of Shaulla, because she got to do those things. Not the way Bonnie would have, perhaps, but Bonnie had seen Ulla grasp his hair in her tiny fists, and he held her so closely. Bonnie would never get the chance unless she charged Lynx a hug or a kiss before she let him hold Ulla, and she wasn't even sure she could get it then.