Page 33 of An Alien for the Farm

I dry my face and move back to the bedroom to change my clothes. It’s nothing flamboyant, just a brown tunic and closed-toe shoes—the regular outfit it seems New Horizons has sent multiples of. Dropping my communicator in my pocket, I head for the door. My hands close over the knob with some trepidation, my ears perking for any sound outside. It’s silent out there. I don’t even hear the soft wind.

Gathering my guts, I pull the door open.

The yard is quiet. Nothing stirs, only a few flowers whose stems sway in the breeze. Stepping off the porch, I turn and look up, but there’s nothing on top of my new home apart from my now perfect roof. Zynar isn’t here.

I don’t know why some disappointment swells within me at the fact. Despondency rises like a little cloud around me.

I shouldn’t be disappointed. Why am I? I’ve only known him for what? A few days? Zynar doesn’t owe me a thing and if he chooses not to turn up, that’s fine.

Squaring my shoulders, I push the sad thoughts away. There’s work to be done, Eleanor. Like focusing on my task for today. Taking out my communicator, I bring up the list of things I need to get done. The barn, for one, needs recovery. I can’t move the animals from the field till I have a proper place for them to stay.

I head there, the large doors closing behind me with a loud creek. Here in the shadows, it’s hard to tell what I should work on first. Even though I’d done a lot of work already mucking things out, there’s still so much to do. I get to work, trying to figure out the tools l ying against one side of the wall. I get handsy with a few and find one that’s great for pulling down the vines that have found their way inside.

Work pulls me in despite that, for some reason, I keep glancing at the door, every little sound making me pull my head up from the work I’m doing. I curse myself, brows furrowing. I told him I wanted to keep things professional, didn’t I? And when he comes, if he comes, this will be a business deal. No more flirting. No more hot looks. And definitely, no more kissing.

If he helps me, I can help other humans. And that’s more important than some crush that’s probably not going to go anywhere.

I finish with the walls and finally get all the stalls clean. Exhausted, I head back to the house, gaze shifting to the front gate. Still alone. I become hyper-aware of how quiet everything is. No boots hitting my roof. No soft shuffling of roof fiber as it’s pushed into place.

I’m as alone as I ever was supposed to be. And that should be fine except there’s still that unnerving little sliver of disappointment threading through my thoughts.

I take a few minutes to get a cold drink and a moment to sit down. I like the silence. It’s soothing. At least, it never bothered me before. It’s bothering me now. Curse this—this unsettled feeling just underneath my skin. I want to pace. I even pull out my communicator at one point, staring at it. Should I ping him? No. I shouldn’t. If he doesn’t turn up then I simply contact Xarion tomorrow. Tell him the Kari fell through and that he should send the Raki instead. Even the thought makes a strange sour feeling develop in my chest.

I don’t want to do that. Not really.

But actions speak louder than words and I know that to be a fact of life. I’ve lived it. If he doesn’t turn up then he’s exactly what I’ve thought him to be. Someone who I shouldn’t get hung up on. Someone who I shouldn’t let past these walls I’ve built up, despite that his presence has had me asking questions I shouldn’t have been asking in the first place.

Grabbing another drink, I take a few more moments to rest and then I’m right again. I step outside in the sun once more. After adjusting my hat, I place my hands akimbo. My gaze shifts from where it lingered at the front gate for a moment too long to the animals in the field. If I’m to move them to the barn, they’ll need food. I’ll need to cut some of the grass and bring it in. Then I’ll need to herd in the animals too.

Glancing at the front gate again, I curse myself one more time before I head back to the barn. It takes me far longer than it should to find a tool that can cut the grass. There’s nothing like a grass cutter or anything. Just strange devices I have no clue the purpose of. I settle for a wicked-looking thing that looks like the Grim Reaper’s scythe.

“This will do.” My voice echoes in the still barn. I head back out, adjusting my sun hat. My eyes still drift to the front gate.

He’s not coming. All that talk yesterday and he’s not going to turn up. It figures. This is a lot of work for someone who won’t be properly paid. It’s a labor of love and will only be fruitful to me, not him. I curse myself for even anticipating his return. When I’m in the field, dragging the scythe by my side as I pass two resting oogas, I hear a ping on my comm.

I flip the device out so quickly, it almost slips from my hands. I curse myself again. I’m acting like a teen! And I keep saying that but I have no other frame of reference. The last time I acted like this, I was in high school. I was in love. Looking at the screen, I see there’s a new notification. I select the message.

“Job rejected by Zynar of the Korruk line.”

I blink at the words, repeating them in my head. Job rejected? It can’t be the job he already did because, well, it’s already done. He can’t reject it when the roof is already finished. My nose wrinkles as I bring the device closer to my eyes as if that will create some understanding in my brain. Is it the new job? The new contract? Did he or Xarion initiate something I was unaware of? I try to navigate on the little device, trying to pull up the job ad being referred to, but soon give up, my shoulders drooping.

He’s truly not coming, is he.

Disappointment shouldn’t be so swift or nearly as painful.

I stare at the ooga beside me who flicks his little hippo-ears. “I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up, should I?” I whisper. The ooga ignores me. I talk to it anyway. “Yeah yeah, I know what I said. I know I said no relationships. Men are shit and then they split, and whatnot. But damn it, I also know what I felt.” I sigh as the ooga continues to ignore me. “Something I shouldn’t have felt,” I whisper, staring at the grass though not really seeing it. “I know. I know better than this.”

I force a smile, lifting my head as one of those tall tilgrans ventures close. It’s standing right where I want to start gathering the hay and I frown at it. “You’re not going to trouble me, are you…Bob?” I don’t know why I name the thing. It just feels appropriate. The tilgran simply chews as it watches me and I sigh. This place is safer than Earth in most respects. I’ve nothing to worry about. And so I move to the spot where I wish to start gathering the hay. With struggling arms, I lift the scythe and swing, my eyes widening as it cuts down a swathe of the grass in that single arch.

“Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle!” I stare at the blade. I thought it was rusty! “This thing’s sharper than my wit on a Sunday morning.” But it’s heavy too. I struggle to swing it again, sweat rising on my brow but I soon get into a routine. Lift. Swing. Rest. Lift. Swing. Rest. Lift. Swing. Try not to fall on my ass. Rest.

I’m on my fifth swing or so when I suddenly hear a growl at my back. A shadow looms over me mid-swing and I cry out in alarm as the blade comes around. Purple and pink scales reflect in the light as a strong arm closes on the handle of the weapon, stopping the deadly swing with just a second to spare.

My heart lurches in my chest as I look up and there he is. I don’t know whether to scream or slump against him in relief. I want to do both. Instead, words choke from my mouth in dismay.

“Zynar?!” He’s here? “I could have killed you!”

He has the nerve to chuckle. “I’m tougher than you think, Little Bird.”

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