“It’s okay. You’re safe now.” Sara glanced to the side. A number of farmhands were racing from the fields, calling questions.
Detodev came out, pieces of hay clinging to his braid and red flannel shirt. His brows were drawn together and low, giving him a bestial, violent appearance. “I didn’t see anyone, but he could have gone through the window in the back. It’s open.”
“I thought I saw someone coming from this direction as I was running up,” Bud panted, out of breath. “He was limping but moving fast. I couldn’t make out any details, except he was a big bastard. He headed into the trees at the edge of the property.”
Charity’s gaze met Sara’s. “Someone knows who I am,” she whispered. “They came for me.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw Detodev frown. Despite keeping her voice low, he’d heard her.
* * * *
Detodev joined in the strained laughter as Mitag told everyone of the young bride he worked for and her obsession with tuxedos and haybale seating arrangements. It should have been a hilarious story, but the gaiety was forced from Jennifer, Clan Amgar, and Detodev following the incident in the barn.
At Jennifer’s insistence, dinner had gone ahead as planned. Sara’s pork tenderloin was as amazing as ever. The scent coming from the berry pies was mouthwatering. Detodev had been surprised to learn the would-be astronomer Starry Eyes Seng could bake. He wished he could do real justice to the anticipation of tasting her culinary efforts.
Unfortunately, he was too concerned about what had happened in the barn. He eyed Jennifer and her hosts, wondering what the real story was.
Anxiety kept creeping in, giving rise to anger. His reaction when she’d staggered from the barn, her expression dazed and terrified, had been an upwelling of fury he recognized all too easily. He’d smelled the knockout gas, used often on farm stock by the local veterinarians when a horse or ronka needed medical treatment. He’d helped out on enough neighboring ranches to identify the odor once his mind-blinding rage had dissipated. Whoever had cornered Jennifer must have used a diluted formula. The full-strength version could have stopped her heart instantly.
Who’d do such a thing? And why? It was obvious she was in danger. The remark she’d made to Sara referencing someone knowing who she really was told him she hadn’t come to Haven over a mere prank gone wrong.
And she’d stumbled over her name when she’d initially introduced herself to Detodev.
She’s in hiding on Haven. Who is Jennifer Seng? Why is someone after her?
Who’safter her?
His heart drummed. He realized he was on the verge of an animalistic growl. Detodev drew a deep breath, grateful Mitag continued to talk and hold everyone’s attention. No one had noticed the Nobek’s tense jaw or how he grasped the edge of the polished wood table in a white-knuckled grip.
He forced himself to relax. Jennifer was safe now. The powerful but restrained Groteg, a decent version of a Nobek, would protect her. Knowing she’d been targeted, he’d make sure nothing else happened to her.
Detodev could focus on what he was suited for, what he was safe doing. Farming was where he belonged, where his energiescould do the most good. Where he wouldn’t lose control and commit the terrible harm he was capable of, the harm he’d done in the past.
“Hey! Detodev, quit daydreaming,” Mitag demanded. Trust a Nobek to drift off when the talk turned to event planning and weddings, though the stories were funny. Detodev had obviously missed the recent change in conversation.
“Huh?” Detodev’s distant gaze sharpened as he responded to the Imdiko.
“I was telling everyone about the show the Sapphire Isles District Players are putting on at Sunrise’s theater next weekend. It’s a comedy centering around a guy coming to Haven and trying to start a high-end vacation spot for rich people who want a taste of ranch life. It all goes sideways, of course.”
Utber snorted. “I’ve heard of it. My understanding is it’s bawdy. Downright crude. Not suitable for the children.”
“The title of the play tells you all you need to know. Cow Patties in Paradise,” Groteg chuckled.
“Prophets. No thanks,” Sara laughed as Tori groaned.
“What’s ‘bawdy’ mean?” James asked as he gobbled pork roast and eagerly stared at the nearby pies. If his bandaged arm bothered him, he gave no sign.
“It means young men your age don’t get to see it.”
Mitag directed his interest to Jennifer, Ilid, and Detodev. “That leaves us, my fine friends. It got rave reviews in the neighboring districts. It’s supposed to be hilarious. I can get tickets if we decide to go. Dinner first, maybe drinks later?”
“It sounds like a laugh. I’m in,” Ilid said.
“Is it really what passes as culture here?” Jennifer groused. “What I wouldn’t do for an actual dance club. Except you spoilsport Kalquorians don’t dance.”
Mitag’s brilliant smile fell an octave. “It’s a chance at some new entertainment. I thought it might be fun.”
Detodev noted Jennifer, who had struck him as empathetic to others’ feelings if not alwayssympathetic, wasn’t picking up on the Imdiko’s disappointment. She was too shaken from what had happened, he guessed.