Sara had the satisfaction of seeing Nate’s jaw drop, though she didn’t know whether it was due to the perfection of the horse or the entire picture they presented. At least Jerden wasn’t naked this time—if a loincloth qualified as clothing.
For a long moment, no one moved or said a word. Drania was the first to spring into action, snatching up a halter and lead rope from a nearby hook. Danuban’s head was so high she had to climb up his neck to buckle it in place. The surprising thing was that the stallion actually stood still for it.
Sara passed by Nate without a glance and took the lead from Drania. Jerden dismounted, landing on his feet as easily as a cat, his glowing eyes still fixed on Sara. “Lynx said you would allow me to ride him.”
“That’s right,” Sara said.
Jerden nodded. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“I’ll be waiting,” Drania whispered breathlessly, an expression of adoration on her pixieish face.
Barely acknowledging Nate or anyone else, Jerden turned and started toward the entrance, the huge cat padding along behind him. Noting Jerden’s bare feet, Sara was about to offer him a ride home in her speeder when Nate broke the silence with a snort.
“You see?” He nodded toward Drania, who was still gazing after Jerden with speechless admiration. “Even Rutarans fall all over them.” Nate’s glare followed Jerden out of sight. “Fuckin’ man-whore.”
Sara didn’t have the opportunity to comment, for just then, Danuban tossed his head and let out a ringing neigh, nearly yanking the rope out of her hands. For a moment, Sara thought he would go charging after Jerden, but then Katy put her head over her stall door and nickered. The stallion surged forward, dragging Sara along with him.
“Sorry, Nate,” she shouted over her shoulder. “Duty calls.”
***
Jerden couldn’t blame Sara for not wanting to sell her horse. And he couldn’t blame the horse for wanting to stay with the mares. But that man standing there in the barn with Sara irritated the hell out of him.
He’d arrived right in the middle of… something. An argument, perhaps? He had an idea that tempers had been about to flare. It was none of Jerden’s business whom Sara Shield argued with, but nevertheless he caught himself listening for the sound of voices as he headed for home. Stopping as he reached a small stand of trees, Jerden waited until he saw the man storm out of the barn and climb into his speeder, his anger clearly evident in every move he made. As the speeder screamed off toward the road leading north, Jerden wondered who he was. Perhaps Lynx could tell him—or he could ask Sara when he returned the next day.
All the walking back and forth would take up a fair amount of the day, since Jerden had three hundred acres of land himself, and Sara’s farm was probably of a similar size. It wasn’t quite as tiring as running up and down the mountain slopes and wasn’t anywhere near as rocky, but for once he didn’t feel the need to exhaust himself. He could easily walk back and forth between their farms without shoes, for smooth turf covered the gently rolling landscape, the occasional grove of trees dotting the hills.
The line between Sara’s land and Jerden’s was quite evident, for his wasn’t nearly as well kept. Her tractor droid worked the hay fields and pastures on a regular basis—seeding, fertilizing, mowing, raking, and baling hay. Farther out toward the surrounding mountains were fields of oats, which provided her horses with grain and bedding. The horse barns and pastures were nearer to the house, each section of the farm ringed by the regulation firebreak—something Jerden wasn’t required to have due to the location of his house, which was situated beside a lake at the foothills of the mountains.
The open grasslands were prone to wildfires started by the fierce storms that swept through the region during the rainy season, but Jerden hadn’t seen any yet. The greatest danger of fire came at the end of the dry season, when the lightning from the early storms set the parched grass aflame and spread across the open plain. According to Lynx, those fires only posed a danger to buildings and unharvested grain. Afterward, the grass grew up from the ashes, turning the blackened land to green in a matter of days.
Since they were currently in the latter part of the rainy season, the weather was warming up, but the rains were still frequent enough to keep the fields green and the grass cool between Jerden’s toes. Later on, the heat would drive him indoors, which was something he wasn’t looking forward to. Out here in the open, he could forget his previous life and nearly everything about it. Terra Minor wasn’t exactly like Zetith, with its shady forests and rushing rivers and streams, but it was closer to home than Rhylos or the refugee ship had been.
Like many others on that ship, Jerden had felt cramped and stifled. He’d spent several months on Terra Minor before he, Onca, and Tarq had come up with their plan for a brothel on Rhylos, a planet where pleasures of all kinds were available to anyone. The playground of the galaxy, Rhylos hadn’t had much in the way of open fields, and the city of Damenk never slept. Nights here were quiet, with only the sound of night birds and the wind breaking the silence. Sometimes that silence had seemed like a curse, but other times, when his sleep was untroubled, he slept the night through, awakening with a feeling that better days lay ahead.
Jerden wasn’t sure this was one of those better days. After all, he’d just relinquished a horse that he would miss very much, and even though he hadn’t given it up completely, he knew he would be losing something else. Solitude. He could regain it while he walked or rode, but in between times, he would have to interact with Sara and her staff—the greatest advantage being that they were so alien he wouldn’t see Audrey or her murderer in their eyes.
Jerden slowed to a halt as the realization struck. He hadn’t seen either one in Sara Shield’s eyes. And he’d been staring right at them.
He had no idea how long he’d stood there, his mind a total blank while the world kept spinning and the sun shone down on his shoulders. At last, Cria grew impatient, stropping herself against his leg, recalling him to his surroundings. Standing at the crest of a low rise, he was gazing out across his land, the lake in the distance mirroring the sky and the mountains beyond. But it wasn’t his land he was seeing—at least, not the way he knew it to be. It was smooth and green, dotted with flowers, shady trees, and grazing horses.
Blinking against the brilliance of the shining vision, he glanced down and saw that his feet were planted on the dividing line between the two properties. When he raised his head, he saw that his land was as rough and wild as it had ever been. Turning to compare what he’d envisioned with Sara’s farm, he saw that it was very similar—prosperous, pastoral, and peaceful, but without the lake and mountains.
Cria nudged him again.
“You’re right,” he said. “It’s time we went home.”
The dogs spotted him as he rounded the lake and the whole pack ran out to meet him—the six he recognized, plus one more. At least, he thought it was a dog. It looked more like a little rat, but it was barking. Jerden wondered when all the dog owners in the region would come round to collect their missing pets, though none had appeared to be well cared for when they arrived.
They were certainly cleaner now and had each picked up weight. What amazed him most was that Cria hadn’t eaten any of them. Although he fed her regularly, he’d seen her catch the occasional field rat, so he knew she went hunting, but she had never bothered his other pets.
The house had been uninhabited for a year or more when Jerden moved in, and though there had been plenty of evidence that rodents had taken shelter there, he hadn’t seen any mice in a long time, thanks to the smaller cats, despite the fact that his door normally stood open. He’d only closed it when Sara was there because he didn’t want to talk to her anymore.
He now realized that may have been a mistake, particularly in light of what had happened since. He’d been rude and inhospitable, something that went against his nature, as well as his upbringing. But he’d also been hurt. He wouldn’t have admitted it at the time, not even to himself, but it was true. And it wasn’t because she wanted her horse back. No, he was hurt because she hadn’t wanted him—as a man or anything else.
It wasn’t as though hundreds of others hadn’t wanted him, and he’d made love with most of them, fathering children on a large percentage. Why it should bother him that this one particular female wasn’t interested in him was a mystery. He still hadn’t reached the point where the scent of a woman’s desire could affect him. The little Rutaran had smelled as cute as she looked, but his own arousal was as elusive now as it had been at the moment of Audrey’s death.
For a man whose life had been based on his sexuality, this left him feeling rather lost. He’d spent his time focusing on the sexual needs of women but very little on the other aspects of their lives, Audrey included. She’d had her basic needs, of course, but he’d never talked with her about her life before she came to live at the Palace. He now realized that he knew next to nothing about her. To be sure, he knew her body better than anyone; however, her mind was something he’d never even attempted to penetrate.
Although it was Onca’s opinion that there were no depths to Audrey’s mind, Jerden had always felt that this was unfair. He’d always assumed Audrey would eventually grow tired of her life at the Palace and go on to do something else.
She might have done just that if she hadn’t been murdered, and Jerden still wasn’t sure how his attachment to her had occurred. Perhaps it was due to the fact that he not only needed her scent but also enjoyed being able to see her while he was servicing his clients—so much so that he began taking her along with him for every session. Unlike Jerden, Tarq and Onca hadn’t been affected by Audrey’s death—at least, no more than they would have been affected by the death of anyone close to them. At the time of her murder, Tarq had already left the Palace to go off on his own, traveling from planet to planet, leaving pregnant women in his wake like a farmer sowing seeds. If he hadn’t fallen in love with Lucy and married her, he might have been doing it still.
Jerden sat down on the porch step, letting the dogs fuss over him as much as they liked, pawing him and licking his face. There was no question about a dog’s feelings. They wore them on the surface for anyone to see. In contrast, the depths of the female mind were murky and obscure. Even when they told the truth, they might not be telling all of it.
These were the sort of ruminations that the horse had put a stop to. The horse had been his salvation. It was clear now. He wouldn’t have been thinking any of this if he’d been riding.
The question was, would any horse do, or was Sara Shield’s stallion the only one who could save him from himself? There were other horses on this world. Granted, there weren’t many, and they were expensive, but money was something Jerden had in abundance. If he were to buy a different horse, he wouldn’t have to associate with Sara Shield and be reminded of what he had once been. Unfortunately, never having dealt with horses before, he couldn’t be sure. He had a sneaking suspicion that there was something about that stallion in particular.
Still, it couldn’t hurt to try. Jerden had enough sense left to know that he didn’t want to slip back into the mental torment that had been his constant companion since Audrey’s death, and if a horse was the solution, he would find a way to get one. When he went back the next day to ride, he would ask Sara if she had other horses for sale or knew of any. If not, well, she’d said he could ride that one, and he would. It was better than nothing.
Gazing out over the lake to the rolling fields beyond, he tried to envision his land as Sara’s well-tended pastures, but though the image was firmly planted in his mind, it was no longer visible. Tough prairie grasses covered the ground, rather than the tender green shoots that horses preferred, and there were no barns, fences, or hay fields. It would take a lot of work to bring about the change, but he would do it. His life had lost purpose. It was up to him to find it again.
***
Danuban was as bullheaded as he was big, black, and beautiful. He’d given Sara trouble every step of the way from the breeding shed to the stud barn. Once in his stall, he’d nearly kicked the walls down, forcing her to turn him out in his paddock. Thus far, he hadn’t jumped the fence, but Sara knew it was only a matter of time before he made the attempt. How Jerden had managed to ride him the way he did was nothing short of amazing—either that or the stallion just plain didn’t like Sara.
He’d liked Katy very well, though. According to Reutal’s sensitive fingertips, the mare had not only ovulated, she had conceived.
In the beginning, Sara had been leery of hiring the Norludian, but he’d saved her a small fortune in vet bills, not to mention the trouble involved in palpating the mares—which was a rather antiquated practice anyway—or the price of a portable scanner. She’d also been afraid that he would bother Drania with his constant sexual remarks, but the two of them got along reasonably well. Drania had a room in the yearling barn, while Reutal slept with the broodmares.
Zatlen was in charge of the stud barn and had a room out there. A genderless Tryosian, he seemed male, but not quite, and could have passed for a human of either gender; the aggressive nature of a human male tempered with some of the more feminine traits. He/she was good with the stallions—not that there had ever been any real trouble with them, until Danuban arrived.
Sara was already awake, half expecting trouble when Zatlen pounded on her door in the middle of the night to report that Danuban was missing.
Pulling on her boots and throwing a jacket on over her nightgown, she grabbed a flashlight and followed Zatlen to the stud barn. “You don’t think Jerden took him, do you?”
Zatlen shook his head. “No, he jumped the fence. I heard him galloping around the paddock and then heard him land. He hit the ground running.” He ran a hand through his shoulder-length brown hair. “Do you want me to go after him?”
“No, go on back to bed. Whether Jerden had anything to do with it or not, I’d still bet a million credits Danuban went back to him.” Surveying the paddock with her flashlight, she could see the deep hoofprints outside the fence. The ground was soft enough that he’d left clear tracks leading off to the south—straight toward Jerden’s house. “I’ve been around horses a long time, but I’ve never seen one get so attached to anyone before. It’s kinda spooky.”
Zatlen didn’t argue. “Think he’ll bring him back?”
Sara sighed. “He did it once. I guess he’ll do it again.” She nodded toward the fence. “I suppose we’ll have to put another rail up all the way around.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to just leave him there and have Jerden bring him over when we need him? I mean, there are only three mares left to cover. After that, we won’t need him again for another year.”
“Unless someone else wants to breed their mares to him.” Sara heaved a weary sigh. “It may come to that eventually, but for now, let’s at least try to keep him here. I didn’t have him imported all the way from Earth for him to live with Jerden.” She snorted a laugh. “It’s like getting a mail-order bride delivered only to have her marry someone else.”
Zatlen quirked an eyebrow. “A mail-order bride? That sounds pretty barbaric.”
“Yeah. Tell me about it.”
There had been plenty of men Sara could have married if she’d wanted a man in her life. There were many immigrants to Terra Minor who advertised for wives or husbands in lieu of a job. She realized that some had simply been unable to find work and were trying to avoid deportation any way they could, for the laws on Terra Minor were very specific. Immigrants had to have money to buy land or start a business, or they had to find gainful employment within a specified length of time. Otherwise, they were deported. The tracking implants inserted in the base of the skull of every immigrant ensured that the Trackers could find them. Second-generation residents and Zetithians were exempt from these laws, but there still weren’t many bums around. Marriage to a current citizen, however, was a free ticket to remain on the planet.
“Well, good night, then,” Zatlen said. “I’ll get to work on the fence in the morning.”
Sara nodded and headed back to the house. The crescent moon didn’t offer much in the way of light, but her eyes had adjusted enough to see. She switched off her flashlight as she crossed the stable yard. As she walked, her gaze drifted southward, toward Jerden’s place. Though the house wasn’t visible from where she stood, she could see the mountains rearing up in the distance and knew that at the base of the foothills were a lake and his home. Two days ago, she’d never given him a thought. Now their paths seemed destined to cross on a regular basis.
“This will work out somehow,” she muttered as she went inside. “Everything always does.”
Sara tried to focus on what Bonnie had said about Jerden—how he’d been through hell. She didn’t want to be rude or hateful to him, but how far did she have to go to be nice? He hadn’t seemed very friendly either time she’d seen him. And he’d said, what—two sentences to her? Unlike many men she’d known, Jerden wasn’t one to complicate matters with a lot of chatter, something she had to admit she found refreshing.
Too bad it wasn’t his normal behavior. Given his previous occupation, Jerden was bound to have been the smooth-talking Don Juan type, and if there was one thing Sara couldn’t stand, it was a man feeding her a line of bull.
Nate was a prime example. They’d met for the first time at a meeting of the Nimbaza Horse Breeders Association, and the sound of his voice was like fingernails on slate even then. Though she’d done her best to avoid him ever since, he seemed oblivious to her attitude toward him.
Jerden, on the other hand, hadn’t elicited that immediate, negative response, despite the fact that he had possession of a horse whose arrival she’d been anticipating for nearly a year. After all, it wasn’t as though he’d stolen him. The stallion had chosen Jerden. Admittedly, she might be a little jealous, but she wasn’t annoyed—at least, not yet.
She was still thanking her lucky stars that she’d found the horse at all. There were plenty of predators on Terra Minor, and though there were few that could outrun a horse, Danuban could have easily been injured to the point that he might have fallen prey to a flock of enocks. The carnivorous ostrichlike birds were a danger to the unwary, though, thankfully, they tended to hunt much smaller prey. Still, they’d been known to attack a full-grown human when cornered. Bonnie and Lynx had captured a large flock, and though they’d made a tidy sum on the eggs they sold, as dangerous as the big birds were, most of the region’s settlers avoided them.
Sighing, Sara kicked off her boots, stripped off her jacket, and crawled back into bed. No, she wasn’t annoyed with Jerden yet. However, if past history was any indication, she probably would be tomorrow.