Warrior's Wife (17 page)

Thirty meters out from the fortress, they stopped and smeared dirt on their faces.

Gideon rubbed mud on his bald head too. Movement caught his attention and he tracked the purposeful motion—an armed sentry on a circuit around the outer barricade. Dressed in dark canvas clothing he was almost invisible. A blackened antique rifle rode his left shoulder, but his size, build and lope screamed mech.

Gideon swallowed a growl and signaled for them to pull back.

When they returned in the morning, the barricade blocked any view into the compound. The guards had doubled. One mech patrolled on the ground in a wider sweep of the area while another kept watch close to the top of the log enclosure. A roof was the only visible interior detail. Frustration tightened his jaw, though he liked the fort’s security measures.

Once again failing to catch even a glimpse of Tori, they retreated to the woods.

“M-marching up to the gate is out.” Horace kneaded the back of neck, smearing streaks of dried mud.

A small vein popped on Marcus’ temple. “Yeah, gotta figure Sebastian is monitoring the place.”

Gideon tipped his head back, staring at the treetops almost blotting out the sky. “We need a tree house. Hell, a platform would work.”

“Fucking A, boss.” Marcus cuffed his shoulder.

“W-who gets first watch?”

“Me.” Gideon’s lips twitched at his team’s glares. “We’ll do two-hour rotations.”

Lumber scraps and hardware liberated from a backyard shed quickly formed a sturdy perch in the giant maple under Gideon’s eager hands. After the last nail drove home, he gingerly tested the construction. The wooden platform creaked, but held. He waited a full minute then eased his full weight onto the braced square. While still below the evergreens’ treetops, he had an excellent view into the compound.

Besides the two mechs he’d seen from the ground, he spotted another two building something more elaborate than a mech perch. Based on the assumption there were two triads, there should be two more soldiers.

He didn’t have to wait long. A pair of mechs emerged from the main building. Gideon’s focus grazed over them to lock on the small woman between them. Tori’s dark-red curls gleamed in the autumn sunshine. Was she paler? She looked paler. Even with mech vision enhancements providing zoom views, he only caught glimpses of her face. An adorable frown creased her perfect forehead and damn near stopped his heart with a pang of longing.

Helpless to do anything except watch, he feasted on the sight of her as she crossed the grounds to the construction site. The mechs, who’d been framing, paused to talk. From his perch, it seemed as if she were directing their efforts. He strained to hear what was said. The wind picked up rustling leaves, stealing the yearned-for notes of her sweet voice.

Gideon didn’t like the way the two soldiers crowded her. At least they weren’t touching her and he gave them props for being alert. Both men scanned the area, including the tree line, constantly. One of them stared at his position for so long, Gideon gripped the wood to keep from bolting. He damn near destroyed the new platform by warping the board. At last Tori’s guard changed focus. Gideon eased his hold.

A blonde woman hurried across the yard to join them, wrapping a shawl around her as she ran. The second the two framers spotted the blonde, they dropped their hammers and sprinted to bracket her. Gideon swallowed a growl of frustration over his approval. He wanted to be down there, keeping Tori safe.

Being so close to her, yet nowhere near close enough, made him grind his molars. He longed to see her eyes light up with joy and to hold her safe in his arms.

He had to consider the death sentence hanging over their heads. She might be better off if they stayed away. It wasn’t a new thought. He didn’t like it any better now than he had before. But that didn’t change his feelings. He wanted her too much to trust his judgment. He’d wait until Marcus and Horace had a chance to evaluate the situation before doing anything radical. Tori’s well-being and safety came first and always. If staying away protected her, then that’s what they’d do. He clamped his jaw to keep in a howl of loss and climbed down the old maple.

Marcus and Horace, waiting eagerly for news of their wife, met him at the tree’s base.

* * * * *

Tori waved goodbye to Minka. “See you soon.”

After her friend disappeared inside the central building, Tori scanned the forest to the west of the fort. The sensation of eyes burning into her back still tingled. She shivered, shaking the prickle with an effort. Her imagination was as out of control as her emotions and growing as fast as her belly.

“What’s wrong?” Thane whispered too close for even Finlay’s mech ears to pick up the question.

The mech spoke so rarely, his concern touched her. She blinked back tears that flowed too easily and gave him a watery smile. “Nothing but a slight breeze and hormones running wild.”

Thane grunted and narrowed his gaze at the gently rustling trees.

He hadn’t bought a word of her light explanation, but she knew he wouldn’t call her on it.

“Problem?” Finlay asked.

“Not at all.” Tori fished out a hankie, blew her nose and changed the subject. “The clinic is coming along really fast, don’t you think?”

He refused to be sidetracked. “I get that you don’t want romance, but you need to tell one of us when anything disturbs you. We’re here to protect you.”

His sincerity was plain, but Tori stiffened her resolve. She’d already fallen hard for that we’re-here-for-you line. The first three warriors had disappeared from her life without even a wave goodbye. They were soldiers following orders, but it had been a whole month. Either they couldn’t contact her or they didn’t want to. Neither possibility made her happy. Whatever happened, she wouldn’t make the same mistake with the new triad.

The three new warriors were strong, easy to look at, and vigilant. They even smelled nice, but not quite the same as her mechs. It wouldn’t have mattered if they’d been coated in chocolate. Her heart was too broken to respond to their charms. She got along best with Thane. He barely spoke and never flirted, teased or pushed her to talk. At first he’d avoided the bodyguard detail. She’d requested him. His eyes were haunted with troubles of his own. She respected his secrets as he did hers. His steady, silent presence brought her comfort.

“Thanks, I’ll do that,” she fibbed and automatically covered the small bump to protect the unborn child from the lie. At the rate her stomach was growing, the baby probably already had sensitive ears.

Humbert waved from the catwalk inside the barricade and started down. He must’ve used the mind link as well because Thane and Finlay herded her over for the changing of the guard.

Fed up with having no say about her life, she dug in her boots. Her escorts simply locked their arms around her torso and propelled her where they wanted her to go. She kicked uselessly at their hard limbs. “Put me down.”

Finlay’s expression grew fierce. “You gonna walk or get carried?”

“Walk.”

They lowered her to her feet, but kept iron hands clamped on her upper arms, ready to carry her in a flat second.

She took two steps for every one of theirs to match the quick march tempo. More like running than walking, Tori groused in the privacy of her mind. Maybe she wasn’t technically a prisoner, but she was hard put to find any practical difference between a jailor and the way Finlay treated her. Her temper flared quick and hot.

Despite her shortness of breath she huffed, “I’m perfectly safe inside the compound and it’s not like you ever let me leave. I’m not stupid and I’m not going to run away. You’re smothering me and that’s the problem.”

Finlay handed her off to Humbert without a word.

His rigid shoulders told her he was angry and probably hurt. Too stubborn to apologize, she bit her tongue and blinked back tears. Her hormones were working overtime and she missed her mechs as if someone had amputated her right arm. None of that made hurting honorable soldiers okay.

She yelled at his retreating back, “I’m sorry.”

“Forget about it.” He angled his head to meet her gaze, gifting her with instant forgiveness that just made her feel more like an evil witch.

“Trouble in paradise, sweetheart?” Humbert teased.

“He was doing his job and I was being a brat,” she said wearily.

“Must be time for a snack and a nap.” The triad leader guided her back to the central building, currently the only one with the modern conveniences.

Too tired to protest, she nodded and followed his lead.

They passed foundations for several structures. New construction would provide separate housing for the mated quads, homes for the families they hoped would form and the clinic. Three large windmills were also underway. The giant vanes would combine with solar panels and banks of batteries to replace their diesel-powered generators. Fuel, especially diesel, was increasingly difficult to find.

In addition to the two triad units already in residence and Minka, of Friday-night-broadcasting fame, the compound housed three women besides Tori. Two of them were little better than catatonic, not speaking or responding to touch. The third talked and acted like a five-year-old, locked in a safe, imaginary world.

Tori had some experience working with shell-shocked veterans and PTS victims, but she was nowhere near qualified to treat the severely traumatized women. Since she was the closest thing they had to a therapist, she tried to help.

When they entered the fort, she turned toward her room.

Humbert blocked her way. “You have to drink and eat something first.”

She knew he was right, but her feet wouldn’t cooperate. The room grew fuzzy and she swayed.

Thane caught her waist, bracing her until she found her balance then he led her to a chair in the common room. His gentle two-fingered hold on her wrist told her he was taking her vitals. She didn’t have the energy to protest.

“You blood pressure’s low.” He hooked another chair with his foot and pulled it closer. “Put your feet up.”

He didn’t wait for agreement, simply lifting her legs and sliding the cushioned seat into place.

“I’m meeting the survivors at one o’clock,” she muttered.

He made a noncommittal grunt she chose to take as agreement.

Minka handed her a hot cup of tea. “Try it, maybe it will help settle your stomach.”

Tori sniffed the clean peppermint odor with gratitude. “Where’d you find mint?”

“Growing down below the third windmill. I remembered my mother making an infusion from it when I was a kid.”

They both bent their heads for a few seconds to honor the fallen.

“Thank you.” Tori broke the silence and blew across the hot mug.

“I hope you’ll do the same for me soon.” Minka’s eyes flickered, bright with hope and the pain from past disappointment.

Tori resisted an urge to offer glib reassurance. Nothing except a confirmed pregnancy would ease Minka’s fear. Instead of mumbling something meaningless, she wove her fingers with her friend’s and simply held on.

“How about fresh cookies to go with your tea?” Humbert arrived bearing treats.

Minka and she both swiveled to attention.

“Chocolate chip?” Minka’s voice rose.

“Is there any other kind?” the big mech teased.

Minka helped herself, arranging a small stack on a napkin. “Don’t roll your eyes at me. I’m going to share—some. The guys said they’d take a break soon.” She stood to leave then paused. “Please let Doc take a peek at you.”

“I don’t need an exam.” Tori averted her gaze and accepted a still-warm salad-plate-sized cookie.

“That’s quite a baby bump you’re carrying for what—nine weeks tops? I’d stay with you the whole time. What would it hurt to let Doc check you out?”

“I don’t know.” Tori sounded whiny, even to herself. Like most nurses, she made a lousy patient.

“A quick checkup would make me feel so much better,” Minka coaxed.

“All right, but no fat cracks.”

“Whoa, did I say the f word? You’re definitely not fat. If anything you’re too thin. It’s the rapidly expanding size of your belly that worries me. Plus Doc needs to get some hands-on practice.”

Minka scooted out of the room before Tori had a chance to complain about her devious tactics. She consoled herself by munching. Funny how queasy even the aroma of any kind of meat made her and how well her baby-strained digestive system tolerated chocolate. Maybe she was growing a warrior princess.

The thought lifted her mood. Then fresh longing to share her hopes and fears and joys with her mechs washed over her. A lump formed in her throat. She set aside the gooey treat.

“You need to eat, sweetheart.”

She’d forgotten Humbert was in the room and his concern caught her unaware. New tears threatened. She nodded, picked up the cookie and took a bite. She did the chew-and-swallow thing, the sugary goodness easing the nausea that seemed to be a permanent side effect. Apparently even the miracle-working bots had limits.

“Better?”

“Yes, thank you.” She really did feel stronger. “Is there any milk?”