OUTCAST

by Cheryl Brooks

  “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.”

  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 wonderful.

  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 re
sembled 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 gullible 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.”

  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. “I just… 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.”