Gail's Family: A SciFi Alien Romance Novella: Icehome Book 4 Page 3

  Vaza just chuckles, and I'm pretty sure he knows exactly what I'm thinking. "You should greet the others while I help take the burdens off of Ashtar."

  "Oh, okay." I look at Raashel and Aayla, holding hands and watching us. Sessah helps Veronica with some of the straps, and so I tilt my face up so Vaza can give me a quick kiss. "I'll take the girls to Liz and Raahosh while you do that."

  He gives me a smacking peck on the mouth and then winks before turning back to the dragon.

  "Come on, girls," I say, putting a hand out for Liz's little ones. "Let's go find your mama and daddy, okay?"

  "Aayla peed in her pants," Raashel declares as her sister sucks her thumb, looking sad. "She couldn't wait."

  "Well now, that's all right. I bet your mama has some fresh drawers for you," I declare, and take each girl by the hand. "Let's go and say hello to everyone."

  "I didn't pee in my pants," Raashel says proudly. "I was a good girl."

  "Yes you were," I tell her, because she's at that age. I squeeze Aayla's hand. "But if you had, it would have been okay, too."

  "Gail!" a voice cries before Raashel can say anything else. Up ahead, a pink-haired person bounces and waves a hand in the air. "Over here! Gail!"

  "Brooke!" I call out, my face hurting from how wide I'm smiling. "It's so good to see you!"

  She bounds forward, all energy, and I barely have time to detangle my grip from Aayla and Raashel before Brooke is on me, hugging me tight. I hug her back, making the same squealing noise she is, because I'm just so damn happy to see her. "You look wonderful, baby girl!"

  "I am wonderful," she announces, pulling back and beaming at me. "Are you staying here?"

  "Well, I'm not going back any time soon," I tell her with a nod over at the dragon. "Not my favorite choice of transportation."

  Brooke just giggles. "You need to come meet everyone!"

  "That's the plan."

  "Aayla's going to pee again," Raashel interrupts, a smug look on her sweet little face.

  "No I'm not!" Aayla declares, her lower lip sticking out mutinously.

  "Now, now, girls," I say, automatically turning on mama mode. I nod at Brooke. "Let's get these little ones to their parents and then we can catch up."

  "Oh, right! Taushen, babe, can you—" She laughs as one big warrior pulls away from the group and jogs back toward the village. "Great minds and all that. I think Raahosh is back at camp glowering at someone, and Liz is too pregnant to get up all the time, she says."

  "I bet." I do my best not to stare at some of the newcomers, but hearing that there are strange aliens here and seeing them are two different things entirely. I see a pair of red-skinned men, tall and muscular, watching from a distance. They look dangerous and unfriendly, and it makes me squeeze the girls' hands a little tighter as we walk. Mixed in with the hunters from the old tribe—I see Cashol and Pashov and greet both—are unfamiliar faces. Some of them are bearded and pale, with small horns, and they almost remind me of the old fairy tales with satyrs, especially in their leather and fur leggings. There are others with big horns, bigger than even Vaza’s or Vektal's, and then there's a man with four arms, his chest broader than anything I've ever seen. As I watch, someone ahead ripples in color, shifting to become the color of the beach before shifting back to pale blue again.

  This is going to take some getting used to.

  "So many people here," I murmur to Brooke, smiling and nodding at every pair of eyes that meets mine. There's a lot of young women. Sessah will be thrilled, I think wryly. There's one who looks to maybe be in her thirties, but the rest are still young. That doesn't surprise me—most of the slaves I've met in my run-ins with other aliens are young and pretty and female. I'm not entirely sure why they nabbed me since I'm older than them, but I'll take it as a compliment.

  In the distance there's a large fire on the beach and I see a bunch of irregular seats—stones and gigantic pieces of driftwood that pass as benches—around it, most of them filled. A man breaks away from the group and races towards us, and I know even before he arrives from his tall height and twisted horns that it's Raahosh. Aayla and Raashel see him too, and they immediately let go of my hand and stumble forward on the sand. "Papa, Papa!"

  My eyes fill with tears as grumpy, unpleasant Raahosh scoops up one girl and then the other, holding them close. I can't help but smile as his lean face lights up and then he turns back to the fire, where a pregnant woman is getting to her feet. I don't mind that I've been forgotten. It's been too long since that family's been together, and I understand Liz's little shriek of joy as her mate brings her girls back to her.

  Brooke laughs, linking her arm in mine and watching them. "Liz is going to be so happy. She's been worried about them ever since we arrived. I guess you can't take the mama out even if the kids aren't here."

  "You're always a mama," I tell her, and my heart stutters when someone else gets to their feet by the fire. It's a woman, and she's got a large bundle in her arms. At her side, a four-armed alien man gets to his feet, too.

  I know who that is.

  I know who the bundle in her arms is, and my heart races. Brooke keeps talking, but I no longer hear her words. I'm too focused on the woman and her mate that start to move toward us, and one of the tiny fists that flails from the fur blanket. Oh my goodness. I'm tense and worried and scared and so full of joy I want to burst. How can they give up a sweet baby? How can I take him from them?

  How can I not? I want him so much I feel physical pain at the thought of them keeping him. Even though I've told myself to keep my expectations low, I've been dreaming of holding my baby in my arms.

  The woman approaches, her mate at her side. They look like a nice couple. She's human, with dark, wavy hair and tanned skin, and her mate is four-armed and massively strong, and he clearly dotes on her judging from his body language. They're both wearing leather and fur tunics that look stiff with how new they are, and as I watch, she jiggles the baby in her arms.

  "Are you Gail?" the woman asks, hesitant. "I'm Lauren, and this is K'thar." She looks over at her mate and smiles.

  "I'm Gail," I tell them, and my eyes are full of tears even though I can't stop smiling. My heart aches and I can't stop staring at the bundle in her arms. Desperately, I want her to turn him toward me so I can see his face. Her face. I think it's a boy, but I'm not sure. It seemed rude to ask and I never did. It doesn't matter if it's a boy or a girl or a purple people eater, because I'll love it no matter what. "Vaza's helping Ashtar get unsaddled," I manage, my throat choked with tears. "Is that…"

  Lauren smiles broadly and takes a step forward. "This is Z'hren, and he needs a mama. Someone told me you might take the job."

  "Oh my goodness," I say, putting my arms out for him even as Lauren holds him out to me. "Oh my goodness."

  He's big enough to sit up, his head held up proudly as Lauren moves closer and he turns to look at me. Tiny little horns nestle in the thick black hair on his head, and he doesn't have the brow plating or protective armor that Vaza and the other sa-khui do. His little face is fat and round, with chubby jowls like all babies have, and as I watch, he shoves a fist into his mouth, drooling, even as another fist waves in the air. He's got four arms, which I expected, and oddly enough, I find it charmingly adorable.

  "How old is he?" I ask, entranced, as Lauren passes him to me. I stagger slightly under his weight because even though he looks like an infant, he's as heavy as any toddler, maybe even heavier. He's a big chunk of a baby.

  Lauren looks to K'thar, who scratches at his jaw. "A few moons. His mother died not long after his birth, and a handful of moons before my L'ren came to me."

  I have no idea what any of that means, but I don't care. I just smile and coo at the baby, who's gaping at me as all babies do at strangers. "Hi there, little man. I'm Gail," I whisper, and jiggle him in my arms as I settle him on my hip.

  He whimpers and puts his arms out for Lauren, clearly not liking me.

  "It's ok, Z'hren," Lauren says, smilin
g and touching the baby's little fist. "He's not great with strangers, but he'll come around. Just give him a little time."

  "He's just little. It's new to him," I agree, but I'm already in love with this wonderful little soul in my arms. I love his fat cheeks, his bright eyes, and I even find the way his skin changes colors adorable, flashing between a variety of them as if he's trying to figure out what to change to. He whimpers again and looks up at me when Lauren doesn't take him. I smile encouragingly.

  Z'hren opens his mouth and screams in my face, wailing his displeasure at the sight of me.

  3

  GAIL

  We stay with Lauren and K’thar that night, so Z’hren can get used to our presence in his life. Vaza and I brought a tent from Croatoan, but we haven't set it up yet. We want to make sure everyone's comfortable with us and Z'hren first, and we want to make sure his tribe doesn't feel as if we're intruding. We've been welcomed by everyone so far, though, especially the four-armed islanders who call themselves the Strong Arm clan. It seems to be a given that we'll be setting up our tent near theirs, as if we've become part of the tribe simply by arriving. Judging from the fact that there seem to be a few distinct clusters of tents, I'm guessing where you set up shop is very important to them.

  So we have beds in Lauren and K'thar's tent, at the far side of the fire. Z'hren sleeps in a fur-filled basket at the foot of our bed, and it takes everything I have not to sit next to him and just stare, watching him sleep. He's beautiful. More beautiful than I'd imagined. I love his chubby blue cheeks, the tiny little horns on his brow, and the sweet curve of his mouth. He's plump despite the fact that they had lean times on the island (according to Lauren), which makes me think he was fed before anyone else was. He seems smart, too, constantly alert and aware of his surroundings…of course I might be biased.

  He doesn't like me, though. Every time he sees my face, his mouth screws up and he starts to cry. Vaza can hold him with no complaints. He clings to Lauren and to K'thar. But when I reach for him, I get a frown, a whimper, and then a wail. I tell myself that he just has to get used to me, but even after a full day of holding him, he's no happier with my presence.

  It'll just take time.

  Vaza pulls me close, wrapping his arms around me. No hanky-panky tonight since we're literally feet away from Lauren and K'thar. In the past I wouldn't mind—heck, I'd gone years without sex. But with Vaza, I like sex again. Hell, I love sex. Not that it was bad before, but a man's enthusiasm (and okay, ridged tongue and spur) can really add to a woman's pleasure. I'm a little disappointed we can't touch tonight, but I tell myself that we'll set up our own tent soon enough, and that Z'hren's comfort comes first.

  "Happy?" Vaza murmurs against my brow as he brushes his lips over my skin.

  "I am. You?"

  "My heart is filled with joy," he admits quietly. "I have been around others and their kits all my life, but I have forgotten what it is like to hold my own. It is a true pleasure, that."

  I know what he means. I can't stop thinking about Z'hren or picturing his little face, the way his eyes light up when he sees something he likes. I'm already planning ways to spoil him, clothes to make him, how to phase new foods into his diet, the best way to handle diapers…there’s snowcat hide, which tans out to a very soft, easily-washed white hide…my mind is racing and in the best kinds of ways. As Vaza rubs my arm, I look up at him. "Is this hard for you?" I can't help but ask. "You're leaving your tribe behind to stay here with me and the baby."

  "This will be a change, but the others are not gone forever. We can visit as often as we like, and I would not be surprised if both tribes did not combine in the future. Even if they do not, though, we are needed here. Vektal has plenty of hunters who know the trails and the land like the backs of their hands. Experienced hunters are very needed here." He looks thoughtful. "The males of this tribe are strong and clever, but I do not think they have ever experienced snow."

  "The snow here can be overwhelming," I admit, amused. It's pretty ridiculous to everyone except Vaza and his people, who think it's completely normal to have a massive winter and a very short “summer.” "These people seem nice though. Lots of young people."

  "Very young," he agrees. "We are the only elders here."

  He's right. It didn't occur to me that we would be, but sure enough. Back in the other tribe there were older families, and elders who were so gray that they looked a hundred years old, maybe more. Here, Vaza and I are the crones. Sheesh. I poke his side gently. "There's a lot of pretty young things on this beach, so don't you get a wandering eye on me."

  "What do you mean?" He sounds confused.

  "It was a joke." Now I feel guilty. Vaza misses some of my sarcasm at times.

  "You think I would look at other females? Truly? I already have the most beautiful mate in all of the world. Why would I look at young things?" He sounds bemused. "I have all that I want in my arms right now."

  I snuggle in closer. "That is a very good answer." And this is why I love this man, because I know he is a hundred percent telling the truth. It wouldn't occur to him to have a wandering eye if he's committed to me. It's not only ingrained in who he is as a person, but who the sa-khui are as a tribe. I don't have to worry about being the oldest woman here, because in his eyes, I'm his sexy, beautiful mate. There's no such thing as a midlife crisis or a trophy wife.

  Just reminds me of how different things are here than on Earth.

  I smile into the darkness at Vaza's glowing blue eyes and touch his cheek. Even though it's crowded in this tent, it doesn't mean we can't play a little. I lean in to kiss him, teasing my lips over his, and his hands tighten on my body with excitement.

  A fussy cry breaks the silence of the night, and then Z'hren wails his displeasure.

  Ah yes, it's been a long time since a baby kept me awake past my bedtime. I don't even mind it, because it reminds me that there's a little one to love. I sit up in bed, reaching for the basket.

  "Mmm," Lauren says, and I glance over to see that she's sitting up in her furs, rubbing her glowing eyes. "You want to take him, or you want me to?"

  "We've got it," I reassure her. "Go back to sleep."

  I reach into the basket and pick up Z'hren, clucking at him. Probably a wet diaper or hungry. He's still little enough that he'll get fussy in the middle of the night without something to eat. "Hi, little man," I whisper to him, pulling him against my body and patting his back. "It's okay."

  He blasts my eardrums with an even louder wail, screaming his head off. With four small hands, he pushes away from me, leaning away and acting as if I'm a monster.

  "Let me try before he wakes the entire camp," Vaza murmurs, taking Z'hren from my arms. He picks up the heavy child as if he weighs nothing and holds him close, shushing him.

  Immediately, the baby's attitude changes. He whimpers, and then gives a fussy hiccup as Vaza rocks him. "His bottom is wet," my man murmurs, and then lays the baby down so he can change him, clucking and murmuring to Z'hren to keep him occupied as little fists wave in the air.

  I watch, my smile somewhat guarded as I hand Vaza new wraps and soft bits of fur to clean the child off. I can't deny that I love that Vaza jumps right in to help out with the baby and that he's good with him. Vaza loves children. He's got a kind heart for all of his flirty, lascivious ways, and I think he'd love to be a daddy again. But damn, it hurts that Z'hren can't stand me. Even sleepy and miserable, he doesn't want anything to do with me.

  It's hard not to let it affect my mood. I know he's just a baby. I know I'm probably strange to him, but…surely I can't be that bad. Is it all humans he hates or just me? I think of how Z’hren clung to Lauren, and I worry it’s really just me.

  * * *

  Z’hren’s a good baby. He sleeps almost through the night, and when we wake up the next morning, he’s fussy with hunger but quiets once we give him one of the specially made trail ration bars that Lauren’s been making for him since they arrived on the beach. They’re made with meat that�
��s been pounded and pulped into a paste, fat, and a seed paste, then frozen in a bowl of snow. It’s not the ideal way to feed a baby, but as Z’hren gnaws on one happily, I suppose it’s as good a diet as pureed peas and carrots.

  I change him into fresh clothing, cooing and singing to him as I do. He whimpers uncertainly, and when I pick him up, he automatically reaches for Lauren, and when she doesn’t take him, then Vaza.

  “He’s just adjusting,” Lauren says for what feels like the hundredth time since we arrived. She’s still encouraging, and Vaza is too. As we head out for breakfast, he takes Z’hren into his arms and tosses the little one in the air. The baby’s all giggles and laughter for him.

  It’s just me he doesn’t seem to like. I try not to take it personally. Babies don’t like change, and I wonder if it’s my smell. He likes Lauren, but she’s also resonating to K’thar, her breast humming as she starts her day. Vaza probably smells like familiar people, too. If I smell different and I’m not humming, I’m probably too strange for him.

  At least, that’s what I tell myself.

  “Ho, Vaza,” Cashol says, jogging up. “I am going to take the clan of the Tall Horn into the hills and show them how to read a cache. We can bring more people along with us if you come to help out. I know J’shel and K’thar will want to go, as well.”

  “Me too,” Lauren says. “If K’thar’s going, I want to go, too. I can learn to hunt.”

  Vaza’s face is bright with excitement. Nothing that man loves more than being needed. I can see it in his eyes, and I want to hug him when he immediately turns to me instead. Thoughtful man.

  “You go,” I tell him before he can ask. I smile and hold my arms out for Z’hren. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Are you sure?” He hesitates, then hands Z’hren over to me, ignoring the fussing of the baby. “We were going to set up our tent today.”

  “We can set it up tomorrow,” I tell him easily. “Go and hunt. Stretch your legs. I’ll get to know this little man,” I say, and tap one of Z’hren’s fat cheeks.