Odin: Alien Adoption Agency #5 Page 10

  Colton stretched and banged his head on Liberty’s chest.

  “He’s hungry,” Mrs. Alney said. “Come sit and feed him and tell us all about yourselves. These are my seven, plus three grands, and you’ve already met Old Alney.”

  “Thanks so much,” Liberty said, allowing herself to be led to the table. “I’m Liberty Clark, this is Colton, and that big guy is Odin of the Invicta.”

  “The Invicta?” a teenaged boy stood up from the table and moved over to Odin, an eager but nervous expression on his young face.

  Odin smiled at the boy.

  “My youngest son,” Mrs. Alney said. “Chiswyll, but we call him Chipper.”

  “I want to join the Intergalactic Guard one day,” Chipper told Odin proudly. “Do you know anyone on the Guard?”

  Odin’s face froze.

  “Now don’t let him bore you to death,” Mrs. Alney laughed. “That boy will talk about the Intergalactic Guard until his face turns blue.”

  “I just want to serve, Ma,” Chipper said, without turning back to her. “And get off this moon to have some adventures.”

  “I’ve got plenty of adventures waiting for you at the sheep shearing shed,” Old Alney quipped and then roared with laughter.

  Chipper smiled indulgently, but kept his eyes on Odin. “Please, your honor, if you ever want to talk about your experiences, or offer me some advice, I’d be most grateful. And I’m happy to help out at your farm during my free time to show my gratitude.”

  But Odin didn’t answer. His face looked like it was made of granite.

  “You have a lovely boy there, Mrs. Alney,” Liberty said. “But he shouldn’t offer his labor so freely to brand new farmers like us.”

  “You’ve never farmed before, madam?” the boy asked, finally giving up on Odin, who was still standing stone-faced a few feet from the table.

  “No, Chipper,” Liberty told him. “I traveled with the Physician’s Brigade for some years, and Odin has been on active duty. But adopting Colton means a new life for all of us. We have a lot to learn about farming.”

  “I’ll say you do,” Old Alney chuckled. “They came up here to look for some missing rainbow sheep. I loaned ‘em our scanner, Ma.”

  “Good, good,” Mrs. Alney said. “We’ll be sure to keep an eye out. Can’t say as I’ve heard much about rustlers in these parts. More’n likely it’s a jaguarootte.”

  “Thank you,” Liberty said, beginning to wonder if she’d made a mistake with the big cat they’d found near the farm. Everyone seemed so sure the beast was dangerous.

  Colton pushed his milk cell away. He had emptied it in record time. Liberty lifted him to her shoulder to burp.

  “Well, now that he’s settled, let’s fix you a plate,” Mrs. Alney said.

  Liberty glanced up at Odin. He looked like he was in shock. She had no idea what could have possibly happened in this innocent conversation to upset him, but it didn’t feel right to stay.

  “I’m so sorry, but we’re eager to get back to the farm,” Liberty told her. “I’m sure we’ll visit with you again soon.”

  “See that you do,” Old Alney said, rising and offering Odin his arm.

  Odin seemed to rouse himself and took it, clasping firmly.

  “Until next time, son,” Old Alney said.

  “Thank you again,” Liberty told him.

  “Goodbye, your honor,” Chipper called to Odin.

  Odin gave a vague wave in the boy’s direction, but didn’t turn. Liberty was left to wave to three generations of Alneys on her own.

  When she turned back, Odin was already far ahead of her.

  She eased Colton into his sling and then trotted down the path after Odin, replaying the conversation in her head and wondering if she’d said or done something to upset him.

  26

  Odin

  Odin silently held Liberty as the stag-mare took them home.

  He hated his body for responding to hers, and he hated himself for believing for a minute that he could allow himself happiness.

  The boy, the boy…

  He didn’t look anything like Adyxx, the young onyx dragon, but his expression was the same one Adyxx had worn at their first meeting.

  He was so innocent, so eager to roll his sleeves up and help.

  Odin had taken Adyxx under his wing. He had been fool enough to think he could help the boy become a success on the force.

  Instead, when it mattered most, in the heat of an ambush gone wrong, Odin had shifted to protect his crew.

  But the appearance of a dragon had only escalated matters. The enemy had launched their most powerful weapons in retaliation.

  And though every other member of the team had escaped with their lives, Adyxx had lost his.

  Adyxx, who looked to Odin for everything, Adyxx, who trusted him.

  Odin had let the boy down in the worst of all ways.

  The memory of it would haunt him forever.

  My poor judgement killed him. My lack of self-control destroyed his future and broke the hearts of everyone who knew him.

  Odin did not deserve the starry-eyed admiration of Chipper Alney, or of anyone.

  He should have been stripped of his medals. Instead, he had been given another award for bravery and quick thinking.

  But in the awful years after the event, his work had suffered.

  They had finally assigned him to guard Colton, the closest thing to an honorable discharge without actually discharging him.

  And while the last thing he deserved was to care for another innocent child, he couldn’t stop adoring the little whelp, couldn’t stop wanting the best for him - not just to protect him but also to love him and teach him. It almost felt like a second chance.

  But seeing Chipper brought it all crashing back.

  He was responsible for Adyxx’s death. He did not deserve a family, not even a make-believe one. He did not deserve a mate or happiness.

  He should have died on that field with the boy.

  “I know you’re upset,” Liberty said softly pulling him from his thoughts. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. But I’m here if you do.”

  Her words were like a knife through his heart.

  “I hope I didn’t do something to offend you,” she added softly.

  “Of course not,” he growled.

  He longed to tell her everything. He hadn’t talked about Adyxx with anyone. He had held the boy’s story in his heart, carried the weight of it alone, as he should.

  Liberty went silent again. He could feel her hurting through their bond. She didn’t understand what was wrong, or why he wouldn’t explain.

  Her hurt only pained him further until he felt he was drowning in misery.

  He should never have touched her, should never have told her about the bond. He should have begged his superiors to send him back onto the field, anything to keep him from dragging this good woman down to his depths.

  It wasn’t too late. She had survived the loss of true love once, she would survive losing him, too.

  “A good meal will help us feel better after a long day,” she suggested.

  “Of course, I’ll cook right away when we get home,” he told her, his voice nearly breaking on the word home. It wasn’t his home, it was hers and Colton’s.

  “That’s not what I meant,” she said. “And we should check on the sheep first.”

  He nodded.

  Before too long, they arrived at the barn and he took care of the stag-mare’s needs while Liberty and Colton followed the joyous Keerah up the path toward the grove.

  By the time he joined them, he could see something was wrong. Liberty’s usually proud bearing was slumped and sad.

  “We’re down to seven sheep,” she told him without turning around. “No predator would take that many. Someone is stealing them.”

  It’s my fault. Fate is punishing me for seeking happiness…

  “Let’s get back to the house,” he told her. “It’s getting late. We’l
l eat something and figure this out in the morning.”

  She nodded and turned back to trudge up the path.

  He waited for her, and they walked together, slowly, to the house.

  When they arrived, she went to freshen up, and he headed to the kitchen and began to cook.

  He lost himself in the simple task, making melted cheese on toast and cutting up one of the golden fruits from their own orchard.

  But when he was finished, he looked up to see that Liberty had fallen asleep in the rocking chair with Colton sound asleep on her chest.

  He quietly set aside a plate in the warmer for her and ran a hand through his hair.

  He would not stay with her tonight. He would go out and guard the sheep.

  And tomorrow, he would find a way to tell her he was leaving.

  Liberty and Colton were far too precious to live in Odin’s shadow. They would be happier without him. And he was meant to be alone.

  He slipped out the door and into the night.

  The cloud cover was so thick that no starlight could penetrate it. He allowed his dragon enough freedom to lend him his sight.

  You cannot leave your mate and child, it insisted.

  But Odin had already let the dragon ruin him once. He knew what he had to do.

  27

  Liberty

  Liberty awoke with a start.

  Her legs were stiff, and she was in an odd position with her arms around the baby.

  She felt a deep sadness, though she couldn’t remember why.

  She opened her eyes to find herself fully dressed in the rocking chair with Colton sleeping blissfully on her chest.

  Murky light poured in the living room windows.

  “Oh, buddy, we fell asleep before dinner,” she murmured to the baby.

  He made a small complaining sound and snuggled back in.

  “We can’t sleep all day,” she teased, pulling herself out of the chair and heading to the kitchen to start his milk.

  By the time it was warmed, he was alert and looking for it.

  “We have to change your diaper first,” she told him.

  She headed down the hall for her room and was sad to see her bed was empty. Though it wouldn’t have made sense for Odin to sleep in her bed without her.

  And he had been so unhappy last night.

  If she thought the perspective of the morning would illuminate her, she was wrong. She thought through the whole day before and still couldn’t figure out what had upset him.

  She changed Colton’s diaper and put him in his cradle while she freshened up.

  He fussed a little and then squeaked at the sheep on his mobile until she was finished.

  “Let’s have breakfast,” she told him briskly, determined to focus on the baby, rather than the dragon warrior. After all, Colton was the reason she was here.

  Once Colton finished his cell of milk, she put him in his sling and made a plate of fruit, cream and toast for breakfast. It was a simple meal but easy to make even with a baby on her chest.

  She headed down the hall and knocked on Odin’s door.

  “Breakfast is ready,” she called to him.

  There was no answer.

  She wondered briefly if she had offended him by preparing a meal. Up until this point, he seemed to think that was his job.

  But Liberty was a grown woman, she could prepare a meal if she wanted.

  “Odin,” she said again, knocking a little louder.

  The door swung open to reveal a perfectly made bed. There was no evidence Odin had ever been there.

  “Gods,” she whispered. It was happening all over again.

  Her parents had disowned her, Wyn had died on her, and now Odin had left.

  Tears prickled her eyes and her heart threatened to shatter. But there was a little boy in her arms, counting on her.

  “I am not going to break on you, Colton,” she murmured to him. “I’m going to bend. I’m going to adapt, and we are going to be just fine.”

  But if he was gone, then Odin had abandoned Colton too. Fury over it had her cheeks burning and her heart pounding.

  “We’re going to check on our sheep,” she decided out loud.

  Colton didn’t protest, so she marched down the hall and out the front door.

  The soft light of morning made its way through the cloud cover and the air smelled fresh and sweet. After a few deep breaths, she was feeling more like herself.

  Keerah bounded toward them on the path, ears flopping and legs flying out awkwardly as if the big tree-hound might get tangled up at any moment.

  “Good morning, Keerah,” Liberty said, neatly sidestepping the beast’s big paws and managing to stay upright as Keerah gave her a friendly head butt in the hip.

  “Show me the sheep,” Liberty told her crisply.

  28

  Odin

  Odin woke up with his head pounding.

  Liberty was talking to him, and she sounded quietly furious. That was new.

  “I don’t need some guard around,” she grumbled in her bell-clear voice. “I’m going to take care of this farm on my own.”

  He opened his eyes, ready to argue with her, when he realized she wasn’t talking to him.

  She was talking to the tree-hound.

  “If he thinks that he can just leave without telling me what’s wrong, then I don’t want him around anyway,” she said.

  Keerah let out a deep woof.

  Odin opened his eyes and sat up.

  “I didn’t leave,” he called out. “I was guarding the sheep.”

  Liberty jumped, but didn’t speak.

  “Didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, getting up. “Let’s see if they’re still here.”

  She headed off with Keerah without even waiting for him.

  He watched her march away, hating himself for the way she tugged at his heartstrings. Somehow, she was even more adorable to him angry than under her usual ironclad self-control.

  “Do we still have seven sheep?” he asked as she stalked back.

  “For now,” she said.

  “That’s great,” he told her.

  “So you’re going to sleep out here every night for the rest of your life?” she asked. “Oh, no, wait, only until Colton is twenty. Then you can go on your way.”

  “Don’t be sarcastic with me,” he said, his own anger flaring up in spite of his best intentions.

  “Why were you angry last night?” she asked.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said.

  “That sounds about right,” she said.

  “Don’t be sarcastic,” he warned her.

  “I don’t have time to be sarcastic,” she said. “I have to find out what happened to the other sheep. I’m going to take care of the farm work and then head to town with Old Alney’s scanner. If you want to help me, help me. If you don’t, don’t.”

  He opened his mouth and closed it again.

  He had gone to sleep last night planning to tell her he was leaving this morning. His sole intention had been to send a transmission to his superiors begging to be put back in the trenches.

  But the idea of Liberty and Colton going to town without him was wrenching. What if something happened to them? What if someone tried to take advantage of Liberty’s innocence about life on a frontier moon? What if someone tried to hurt her, or Colton?

  “Wow, I didn’t think it would be such a hard decision for you,” she remarked, turning on her heel and walking away, Keerah dancing down the path behind her.

  “Stop,” Odin called out.

  And in spite of her anger and his misery, her feet stopped moving instantly.

  Deep in Odin’s heart, the dragon smiled.

  “I’ll come with you,” he told her.

  “Good,” she said, finally dropping the sarcasm.

  She waited for him and when he had caught up, they began walking together.

  The awkward feeling between them was only intensified by the deep pull of the bond.

  �
�I wasn’t mad at you,” he told her when they reached the stable.

  “Who were you mad at?” she asked. Her voice was calm again, as if she had spent their walk gathering herself.

  “Myself,” he admitted.

  “Why?”

  “I said before that I didn’t want to talk about it, and I still don’t,” he told her. “But I wanted you to know that it had nothing to do with you.”

  Her face was troubled, but she didn’t ask any more questions.

  He bridled the stag-mare in silence and helped Liberty on before climbing up after her.

  29

  Liberty

  When they reached town, Liberty held still while Odin dismounted, then took his hand when he offered it to help her down.

  The feeling was bittersweet. It was a relief not to have him holding her, sending her emotions into a tailspin.

  But she missed his touch so much that it hurt when he let go.

  She pushed the thoughts aside and slipped the scanner out of her pocket as he tied up their mount. If this thing worked as well as she hoped, they might actually have a shot at finding the stolen sheep.

  “Where to first?” Odin asked, brushing his hands off on his breeches.

  “I had a thought,” she said. “Remember when we were going to see the marshals?”

  “Sure,” he told her.

  “The saloon next door had an awful lot of wooden crates on a caddy,” she said. “It occurred to me that each of those crates was big enough to hold a sheep. Maybe they weren’t all for whiskey.”

  “Interesting,” Odin said, nodding. “Let’s check it out.”

  It was a beautiful morning. Liberty was finally getting used to the lack of direct sunlight, and she could appreciate the view of the shaded streets and the tidy little shops just opening up for the day.

  A baker opened her door, releasing the fragrance of fresh bread and something incredibly sweet. They passed a cozy shop with outdoor seating, and the scent of the coffee was so good it made her mouth water.

  “Coffee grows well on Lachesis,” Odin remarked. “The soil here is rich and moist.”