Page 7 of Alien Mine

The legs of Fate’s chair thunked solidly into the linoleum floor. “Ya don’t say.”

“She’s engaged.”

“Don’t I know it,” Fate muttered.

“And I have to run into town to the bank and the grocery store first anyway, so we may not have time for play.”

“Don’t forget the library, Mama,” Kelly said. “It’s prize day.”

Rachel grimaced and rinsed the last dish. “The last day of the summer reading program. Can’t miss that.”

Her shoulders sagged a little lower, and Dyuvad frowned. He hadn’t meant to add extra work to her already heavy load. From the sounds of it, she already had enough responsibility, too much for one woman. While he was there solely on Tiny’s behalf, he could see no reason not to help Rachel out, too. “Tomorrow is soon enough for clothes shopping. I will help with the chores, provided someone shows me what needs doing.”

Fate stood and propped Tiny on one narrow hip. “I can pitch in, too, especially if it means lake time. Many hands make light work.”

“More like many hands leave less for you to do,” Rachel muttered. “All right. Y’all get out of my kitchen so I can clean up, and then we’ll head into town. If we hurry, we can still meet Yasmin at the lake after lunch.”

Kelly pumped her fist into the air. “Yes! Come on, y’all. We got work to do.”

She raced out of the kitchen followed by a shambling Fate carrying Tiny.

Dyuvad leaned a hip against the counter. “Who is Yasmin?”

“My sister-in-law.”

It took him a moment to work out the meaning, and when he did, a thread of displeasure rippled through him. “Your husband’s sister or Fate’s wife?”

She snorted out a laugh. “Yasmin is my ex-husband’s sister. Fate ain’t never been married. No woman will have him, more’s the pity.”

The displeasure dissipated, replaced by a surprising dose of male satisfaction. “There is much to clean here. Do you need assistance?”

She laughed again, this one lighter and accompanied by a grin. “I got it. Run outside and help Fate, if you want. Hate to put you to work on your first day here, but if you’re willing…”

“I am willing, Lady Rachel.”

He nodded his head in a respectful bow and left her to her work. He had his own to do, in exchange for his board and as part of his commitment to the Net telepath who’d sent him to Earth.

Fate was outside with Rachel’s daughters, sorting animals into groups. Dyuvad studied their actions, carefully memorizing the way they handled the creatures, and pitched in where he could. The tasks themselves were simple enough. He had no doubt he’d be able to complete each one on his own within a few days.

Rachel called the girls inside for quick baths. Fate mumbled something about cleaning up and stalked out of the yard along a well-worn trail. Dyuvad retreated to his new lodgings, sent a quick update to his ship through his wrist com, then sorted through his currency. One third of it could go into the bank account he intended to open locally, another third could be carried on his person, and the last would stay here. He’d just found a good hiding place for it when a light knock hit his door.

“You may enter,” he called.

Rachel opened the door and stuck her head inside. “Sorry to bother you. We’re about ready to go.”

She’d already changed into a simple, green shirt the same color as her eyes and short pants that hit her at mid-thigh, leaving her shapely legs bare. He stripped his shirt off and dropped it onto the couch next to his pack, then sat down beside it. “I need a moment, please.”

Her eyes slid to the side, landing somewhere to his left. “You really don’t have to be so formal.”

“My grasp of your language is incomplete.” He unlaced his boots and toed them off. They were sturdy and thick-heeled. He had no doubt they mimicked local, popular fashion. Thankfully, they were also comfortable, though he would’ve preferred a cooler shoe, given the region’s high temperatures and humidity. “At what time do you school your daughters?”

Her gaze snapped to his. “They don’t have school in the summer.”

He stood and unfastened his breeches. Jeans, they were called, made from denim. The knowledge popped unbidden into his head and he stifled a wince. “Where I am from, children never pause their education.”

She turned her back on him. “Are you from Europe? I hear they have really good year-round schools there.”

“I am not.” He shucked his jeans, taking his socks with them, and tugged a fresh pair of each out of his pack. “Why?”

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