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Tyro: Alien Adoption Agency #3 Page 10


  Cash had a lot of nerve just showing up at her doorstep. He could have sent comms ahead, like a normal person.

  But I ran from him…

  And her father could have come himself, if he missed her so much. Why would he send Cash here, like the only way he wanted to see his daughter return was on the other man’s arm?

  Does he love the farm more than he loves me?

  She knew she was being dramatic. Most likely Cash had offered to come since her father was needed during the camellia harvest.

  But it was her father she missed. It was her father who had loved her, raised her, listened to her, and earned the right to show up and ask her to change her mind - not Cash.

  And Tyro…

  What kind of mate for life turned his back the minute the going got tough?

  The door knob rattled and Tyro strode in and placed a bag of groceries on the kitchen counter as if he’d left ten minutes ago to run errands.

  “Where have you been?” Phoebe demanded.

  He turned to her, his dark eyes solemn.

  “Phoebe,” he said, his voice caressing her name. “I’ve done a lot of thinking. It’s not fair for one person to impede another person’s freedom.”

  He stopped speaking and gazed at her significantly.

  She stared right back at him, fuming mad, but unwilling to yell at him since baby Atlas had finally drifted off on her shoulder.

  So this big green idiot thinks he can stay out all night and then tell me to back off and not impede his freedom when I want to know where he was?

  She said an inward prayer of thanksgiving that they weren’t mated yet.

  No matter where in the universe she went, men all seemed to be the same. Every last one of them wanted freedom for himself, but expected to find Phoebe right where they left her when they were finished.

  Well this one had underestimated her ability to resist his precious mate bond.

  “We should work on the pump,” Tyro said in a disappointed way, turning on his heel and heading back for the door.

  “Fine,” she said, following him.

  She blinked against the brilliant sunlight reflecting off the lake.

  “Good morning, madam,” Saylin sang out as he rolled down the dock to her. “May I help with the little one so you can work?”

  “Thank you,” she said. “He’s finally sleeping.”

  The droid extended his metallic arms and she placed Atlas gently between them.

  “Thank you, Saylin,” she said.

  “It’s my pleasure,” the droid replied.

  She noticed that he had begun playing Atlas’s favorite color patterns on his front screen even though the little one was sleeping.

  “He’s lucky to have you,” she murmured.

  The droid buzzed and whirred with what she swore was pleased embarrassment as he rolled back toward the yurt with the sleepy baby.

  “No,” Tyro moaned from the far end of the dock.

  Something was wrong.

  She turned to see the green warrior on his hands and knees, looking into the water, an expression of intense anguish on his face.

  “What is it?” she asked, forgetting her anger and jogging up to join him.

  He pointed at the water.

  She knelt beside him and followed his gaze.

  At first she thought the reflected light was making it too hard to see anything below the surface of the lake.

  Then she realized what was going on.

  The berries were gone. The fencing was gone.

  Everything was gone.

  This wasn’t a missing impeller or a kinked hose. This was everything. The end of her farm. The end of her chance to make it on her own on this far-flung moon.

  Phoebe rose to her feet, weightless as a ghost, and headed back down the dock.

  “Where are you going?” Tyro demanded.

  “Don’t impede my freedom,” she yelled back to him as she stalked away.

  21

  Phoebe

  Phoebe was face to face with the same equipment shop salesman she had negotiated with what felt like a lifetime ago.

  She had been on top of the world then - flush with capital and resources, falling in love… She had been proud of her ability to strike a bargain.

  Now she stood before him, humbled.

  “It’s gone,” she said sadly. “It’s all gone.”

  “Someone stole your whole farm?” the salesman asked dubiously.

  “I don’t want to believe it, but we’ve had other things stolen already,” she said. “Maybe there’s fencing with a built-in alarm system?”

  “There is, but it has to be ordered in from off-moon, and the cost is prohibitive,” he told her. “I’m guessing they took all your tools, too?”

  “No, they didn’t touch the tools,” she said, shaking her head.

  “You mean to tell me someone went to the trouble to steal fencing and an unripened crop, but they left your valuable tools sitting there?” he asked.

  “It doesn’t make sense, I know,” she said. “But someone ripped a hole in the fence the day before and we had to repair it. They didn’t take anything then either. I think the point is to sabotage me, not necessarily to steal.”

  “Wait, wait, wait, you repaired the fence yesterday?” the salesman asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “But it doesn’t matter now.”

  “What did you use for patching?” he asked.

  “Some spare hose clamps and a crimping tool,” she told him. “We had to improvise a bit.”

  The salesmen sucked in a breath through his teeth and shook his head.

  “There’s your problem,” he explained. “Those clamps are meant to be used with the poly-synth hoses.”

  She didn’t see what difference that would make. They weren’t the ideal shape, but they had seemed plenty strong to hold the fencing in place.

  “You see,” he continued, clearly sensing that she did not see at all. “Poly-synth hoses are non-reactive. The metal in the clamps would start to deteriorate the second it came into contact with your fencing. If you have an electrified setup, the result would be ten times worse, especially without a really good circulation system.”

  It was like he was describing her exact setup.

  “My God,” she breathed. “I sabotaged my own farm.”

  “I’m so sorry,” he told her sincerely.

  “No, no,” she said. “I’m grateful, actually. It broke my heart to think someone would do this. I’m glad it was just my own ignorance.”

  “If you need advice, just stop by anytime,” he said kindly. “My name is Letz. I’m always glad to help.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “Do you still want to put together that special order?” he offered.

  “I can’t really afford it right now,” she admitted. “Anyway, I’m not sure luxberry farming is really the life for me, after all. Do you buy used tools and equipment if I decide to pack it up?”

  “Sure,” he replied. “I’ll be here when you figure it out. And I get it, luxberries are fussy. They require a lot of work and attention. But what an incredible thing to see them light up when your work is done.”

  She nodded to him over the lump in her throat.

  All she could think about was the night she and Tyro had spent after she had seen the berries light up the water for the very first time.

  She longed for her big green warrior, even though she was mad at him.

  Phoebe headed out into the afternoon sunlight and started back toward the farm as she tried to decide what to do. She was so lost in thought that she nearly walked right into two women in scarlet gowns who were standing outside the saloon.

  One had her nose buried in a palm projected novel. The other was puffing out lazy circles of purple smoke from a slender pipe.

  “Oh, now she’s here to get hers,” the pipe smoker said in a husky voice.

  “Pretty thing, don’t let him have all the fun,” the reader said, slipping her projector
into her pocket and turning eagerly to Phoebe.

  “What are you talking about?” Phoebe asked.

  “Don’t play coy,” the smoker said. “We know you’re here to get revenge for your husband spending last night with Saana. Wait until he hears you had both of us today.”

  “We’ll give you a discount,” the reader said conspiratorially.

  “Tyro was here last night?” she asked.

  “All night,” the smoker said. “And he must have had the time of his life. He ordered enough food to feed us all and left Saana with a king’s ransom to boot.”

  “Come on, pretty thing,” the reader said, tugging at Phoebe’s dress. “Let’s even up the score.”

  “Um, no thank you,” Phoebe managed, extricating herself from the woman’s grip. “But thank you for telling me. I’m glad to know the truth.”

  Then someone called to her from the road that led back to her farm.

  “Madam, madam,” a man’s voice shouted in a high-edged tone. “Come with me to the docks. Come quick.”

  Phoebe’s heart dropped to her stomach.

  All she could think was that something terrible must have happened to Tyro or Atlas.

  She had turned and walked away for an hour, and something horrible had happened.

  She ran for home as fast as she could, legs pumping and heart pounding, all thoughts of saloon women and farming forgotten.

  My mate, my child… what have I done?

  22

  Phoebe

  Phoebe could see the crowd of people gathered around her dock as she sprinted toward home.

  More than a few of them were moving around in the water.

  Had someone drowned?

  She was pretty sure Tyro couldn’t drown.

  Her feet pounded the deck, like distant drums in her addled brain.

  As she got closer, she saw an older woman with a green baby in her arms.

  Atlas.

  She felt a sweet relief that even the fear of what might have happened to Tyro could not overshadow.

  “Phoebe,” a deep voice said from the water.

  As one, the crowd turned in her direction.

  Atlas squeaked and put his arms out to her.

  Phoebe rushed over, and the woman smiled so hard her wrinkles disappeared as she handed him over.

  “Wh-what’s happening?” Phoebe asked, searching the water and finding Tyro’s face.

  He looked fine - happy really, rivulets dripping down his muscled form, a smile on his face.

  “We know what you did, dear,” the woman who had been holding Atlas told her in a voice that was too quiet for the others to overhear.

  “What do you mean?” Phoebe asked, though she suspected she knew.

  She noticed the people gathered around the dock comparing the sparkling jewels she had littered on the beach last night when she hoped no one was looking. They had found it much faster than she’d anticipated. She guessed that once word got out, everyone must have really started treasure hunting.

  “This jewelry is obviously Terran,” the woman whispered conspiratorially. “You might not know it, but they don’t make stuff like that around here.”

  Phoebe felt her cheeks burning and she looked down at the dock. She couldn’t even do anonymous kindness the right way.

  “Please don’t let any of them give any of it back,” she murmured. “It was my mother’s. I didn’t earn it, and I don’t wear it. I never even knew her. I only brought it to sell off in case of emergency. And the state of this lake is an emergency for all of us. I know everyone hates me. I just wanted to do some good.”

  “You asked my husband if you could help and he was too proud to accept,” the woman said kindly. “So you found a way to help anyway. If you ask me, that makes you a good neighbor.”

  Phoebe felt hot tears prickle her eyes.

  When the woman wrapped an arm around her, she allowed herself to be pulled into an embrace.

  “Now, now,” the woman said as Phoebe sobbed. “You’ve been a wonderful neighbor to us, and we wanted to return the favor. So when you’re done having a good cry, why don’t you see what your husband and his new friends are up to?”

  Phoebe straightened out of her own new friend’s embrace and wiped her eyes with the arm that wasn’t wrapped around Atlas.

  “Come see, Phoebe.” Tyro’s deep voice was encouraging.

  She moved to the edge of the dock and knelt to look into the water.

  He was working with a group of men to replace their fence. The job was nearly finished, and the result was a sturdy-looking mishmash of different styles and colors of fencing.

  “Everyone donated what they could spare from their own farm,” Tyro said quietly.

  “It’s beautiful,” she murmured, meaning it.

  “I’m glad you came back,” he said. “I tried to take Saana’s advice, but setting you free because I love you was harder than I could have imagined.”

  “What?” she asked, genuinely confused.

  “I spent the whole night at Saana’s place,” he told her. “She gave me advice about relationships.”

  “Look, you can at least be honest with me about what you did,” she said. “We’re not mated yet, so I’m willing to give you a pass. But you can never do that again if we’re going to be together.”

  “What are you talking about?” he asked.

  “The other women at the saloon told me you had so much fun you bought her a feast and left her with a small fortune,” she said. “Where I come from that kind of thing is unacceptable if you’re in a relationship.”

  “I fed her because she seemed hungry,” he said, understanding dawning on his handsome features. “And I paid her for her time, since it’s valuable. But I promise you, I never touched her.”

  She stared at him in awe.

  He was telling the truth, she could feel it through the bond that sang between them, warm and sure.

  “So when I asked you where you had been all night and you gave me that line about how it wasn’t right for one person to impede another person’s freedom…”

  “I was talking about your freedom, Phoebe, not mine,” he said, his eyes solemn. “My freedom was gone the moment you came into my sight. It belongs to you now.”

  “And you would have let me go with Cash?” she asked. “Just like that?”

  “There was nothing just like that about it. It was the hardest thing I have ever had to do,” he said plainly. “But I want you to be happy. No matter what it costs me.”

  “I know what will make me happy,” she said.

  “Then do it,” he said. “And know that I will do whatever I can to support you, no matter what.”

  She took a deep breath and stood to face the gathered crowd.

  23

  Tyro

  Tyro watched as Phoebe stood, her golden hair lifting slightly in the breeze, making her look like a goddess.

  He had just set her free.

  His beating heart was caught in her little hands.

  He felt hopeless and relieved all at once.

  “Neighbors,” Phoebe called out in a passionate voice. “You have been so kind to us. Thank you for sharing your time, your hearts, and your materials with us.”

  A couple of people clapped and called their thanks back to her.

  “I wonder if you can help with one more thing, and let me offer you something in return. I do not have the experience that you all clearly share when it comes to farming on this lake. But I can offer something else,” she said. “I have access to some much-needed funding. And I want to use it to make life on this lake as good as possible, not just for me, but for all of us. The only problem is that I don’t know what to do, or how to do it. I don’t even know where to start. I was hoping that maybe we could all form a council so everyone can propose what to do and vote on how to spend the money. Is anyone willing to help?”

  “We could buy better equipment and share it,” one woman called out to her. “Then we’d all be able to farm more e
fficiently.”

  “We’re all farming every year and it’s impacting the water quality,” a man said. “If we formed a co-op, we could each farm every other year and share the profits.”

  “Yes,” another man called out. “We could plant sea-wort in the off-years to balance out the pH in the water.”

  “That could mean huge profits,” the first woman said excitedly. “Big yields every other year for each of us and a beautiful lake all the time.”

  “We’d have more buying power too,” another woman added. “And maybe we could even ship our excess crops off-moon and bring back more equipment if we pool for the cost of a freighter.”

  Tyro pulled himself out of the water and stood dripping on the dock, watching Phoebe’s radiant smile as she took in all the excellent advice from her neighbors.

  She was willing to give it all up - her farm back home, the fiancé who had traveled worlds to find her, the treasure she had smuggled here - all of it - just to offer their little family and the community around them a better life.

  These neighbors, they were all as independent as she was - pioneers from distant planets. Each of them had been lured here by the promise of a way to work the land and water, and to bring happiness to their families, without answering to anyone else.

  Yet with a simple act of kindness, and a humble plea for help, Phoebe had this disparate group eager to work together.

  She was an incredible person.

  Tyro wasn’t sure he deserved her, but he was determined to do everything in his power to help her.

  When Phoebe turned to him, her eyes filled with love and happiness, he felt his soul knit together with hers.

  “Phoebe,” he murmured helplessly.

  She went to him, allowed him to fold her into his arms even though he was dripping with lake water.

  “I love you, Phoebe,” he whispered to her. “You are everything.”

  She went up on her toes and gazed into his eyes. “I love you too.”

  24