Stargazer Page 5
"Thomas? You home?" Eugenia's quick, light steps followed her voice up the stairs. Then she poked her perfectly made-up face through the bedroom door. "There you are. How's our patient this morning? Are you feeling better, hon?" She came right to the bed and perched on its opposite side. Gripping Janella's good hand in hers, she smiled. "Does it hurt much?"
Janella studied the pretty face. "Yes." The woman's hand was warm and soft on hers. Her face and voice were pleasant, and there was no threatening air about her. Janella shot Thomas a glance. "Thomas helped me."
"Well, sure he did. And I'm gonna help you, too. Has anyone called your family yet?"
Janella averted her face, trying not to show a hint of sadness. If this Eugenia saw it, she might assume Janella was weak and of little consequence. She might try to use that weakness against her, perhaps even try to steal Thomas away from her. Well, Janella thought, stiffening her shoulders, the woman would get a surprise if she put that theory to the test.
Janella sat straighter and kept her voice cool. "I have no family."
Eugenia's eyes widened. Then she was leaning over, her arm sliding around Janella's shoulders, gently cradling her head. "I didn't know. I'm sorry, hon. But surely there must be someone we can—"
"No. There is no one."
"Janella is on her own, 'Genia. She was just passing through last night, and—"
"Well, she's not on her own anymore." Eugenia straightened, and Janella saw a gleam of determination in her eyes, but no hint of malicious intent. She clasped Janella's hand in both of hers and looked right into her eyes. "You've got someone now, hon. You've got me. And Thomas, too. Sumac is a wonderful town. You're gonna like it here—you just wait and see."
Janella felt a little of the wariness leaving her. This woman practically bubbled over with uncensored emotions, unlike Thomas. Obviously she was the one of no consequence and of little strength. Either that, or things truly were different here. Just as her father had told her. Now that she saw Eugenia was no threat, Janella felt a bit more comfortable with her. "You are very kind."
Eugenia stood and pointed at the tray. "You eat your breakfast now, Janella. Such a pretty name, isn't it, Thomas? When can she get up and around, anyway? I can get the spare bedroom all ready for her, and-"
"You can stop right there, Eugenia. She's staying here."
Janella blinked at the censure in Thomas's voice. He was quite firm with this Eugenia. Would she put up with that? Janella was still certain she wanted him for her own, but he would need a lot of lessons in deferring to feminine authority. The man seemed to have no respect for his superiors. Eugenia tilted her coppery crowned head, studying him. Then she looked at Janella again. "Well, Thomas Allan Duffy, can it be your stone heart's finally softening up?" Her brows rose and she nodded thoughtfully.
"Don't start with that crap, will you? I just want her where I can keep an eye on her...for the time being, anyway."
Eugenia frowned. "For the time being, then. But Thomas, you know how it will look. People will talk. As soon as she's able, she ought to come and stay with me."
Janella felt her eyes widen, but she fought not to let her touch of panic show in them. He could be as haughty and cold as he wanted, but Thomas was the only person she knew here. The only one she trusted. Male or otherwise. She most certainly was not going to leave him to go off with this stranger. And it would be silly to leave him, anyway, since he was going to be hers very soon.
He touched her shoulder, sent her a speaking look that seemed to tell her not to worry. It was the first hint of feeling she had glimpsed in his hard eyes.
Staring hard at Eugenia, he said, "Since when have I given a damn if people talk?"
Eugenia shrugged. "She might care about her reputation, even if you don't," she said. "Meantime, Janella, is there anything you need?"
Janella thought for a minute. Then nodded. "I need a dog, I think."
Thomas blinked. Eugenia's brows lifted in surprise. "A dog?"
"Not to eat," she assured them quickly, thinking that might be the cause of their surprise. "Thomas says your people keep them as friends. I would like a big one as my friend. Bigger than Humphrey. Big enough to bite Humphrey's head off if he makes those loud noises at me again." She nodded, sending a smug glance at Thomas to tell him she would prevail over this dog issue, one way or another. Once explained, they must see that her request made perfect sense.
Eugenia looked at Thomas. Thomas shrugged. "The head injury. She's still a little... disoriented."
"Oh." Eugenia reached down and patted Janella's hand. "Don't you worry about Humphrey, hon. He wouldn't hurt a fly." She smiled and sighed. "Wish I could stay, but I have to open up the shop. I'll check on you later, though."
Eugenia turned toward the door, and Thomas rose to walk her out.
"You left your container," Janella said. The small article the woman had carried was still on the bed at Janella's side. She sent it to Eugenia. Thomas turned first, his eyes widening as Eugenia's bag rose from the bed and moved toward her. He lunged as Eugenia turned, snatching the bag in midair. Janella frowned, wondering why he had done that.
He held the bag out to Eugenia as Janella calmly picked up another orange wedge.
Eugenia frowned, but took it from him. "Thank you. I'd forget my head if it wasn't screwed on. Tootleloo, Janella."
"Tootleloo?" Janella frowned at the fruit in her hand. "I thought it was called orange?"
Eugenia blinked and her smile wavered. "Are you sure she doesn't need a hospital?" she whispered as Thomas took her elbow and escorted her out of the bedroom.
"Questioning my medical opinion, Eugenia?" Janella heard no more. They moved into the hallway, and she concentrated on eating her breakfast.
Thomas walked beside Eugenia down the stairs. As they moved through the kitchen, she paused at the table, pointing. "There's a fresh coffee cake in the fridge, and I brought the morning paper in for you. Oddest things going on last night, Thomas. Reminds me of that time about thirty years ago or so...." She shook her head. "Ah, but listen to me rattling on. I have to get on into town. Haven't been late opening the shop since I retired from teaching. Wouldn't want to start now. You just call if you need anything."
She hurried out the door. Her big white ‘89 Caddy roared like a frustrated bull as it shot out the driveway, spitting gravel in its wake.
Thomas stood in the doorway until she was out of sight. Humphrey nudged him hard, apparently disliking being ignored. Thomas scratched his head and Humphrey whined and bunted the screen door. "Yeah, okay, go on outside for awhile." Thomas pushed it open and Humphrey bounded out. Then he closed the door and shook his head slowly. This was not going to be easy. He passed the table on his way back through the kitchen and automatically grabbed the paper. His gaze caught one corner of the two-inch headline and he froze at the three letters he saw there. He unfolded the paper and stared down at it, swearing under his breath. Hundreds Report UFO Over Sumac.
"Ah, damn..."
What's the big deal, he asked himself as he sat down and began scanning the article. Hell, it had made the papers before, too, but no one had really believed it.
Someone did.
Thomas groaned at that young voice invading his psyche yet again. He tried to ignore it, but the persistent little brat kept after him.
You know someone did. Those men in the dark suits who showed up the next day, asking questions around town. They even came to school. Remember?
Yeah, he remembered. He hadn't known what to make of the "men-in-black" at the time. He'd read, since, that whoever they were, they showed up with some regularity in towns where UFO sightings were reported. Seemed the alien watchers had formed some kind of group. Had their own magazines, complete with blurred photos of what looked like Frisbees or hats tossed into the air and snapped "in flight." According to most of those members, the men-in-black—or MIB—were alien agents trying to keep witnesses silent. Th
omas figured they were more likely government or military types.
Whoever they were, they could be a threat to Janella if they found out about her.
Thomas smirked and shook his head. "Right. Now, get real. They wouldn't believe me about Janella if I told them."
He dropped the paper when he heard her scream. Sprinting up the stairs with his heart trying to pound a hole through his rib cage, he battled nightmare images of her convulsing in reaction to something she'd eaten. He flung the bedroom door open so hard it crashed into the wall, but she wasn't in the rumpled bed.
The bathroom. The door was open, and he ran through it, then skidded to a stop. She stood in the shower stall, T-shirt and leggings still in place, dripping wet, coughing and spluttering and reaching blindly for the knobs to turn the cold water off.
He couldn't help it. He burst out laughing, even as he leaned over to twist the knob and stop the flow.
"It is not funny!" She pushed dark, dripping straggles off her face, rubbed water from her eyes.
"Oh, yeah, it is, Janella. It's funnier than hell."
She glared at him. "You...you dog! I only wanted to see what the dial controlled."
He laughed a little harder, but managed to grab a towel from the shelf and hold it out to her. She didn't take it, nor did she stop glaring at him.
He flung the towel at her, leaving her little choice but to catch it. She muttered as she wiped the water from her face and neck, and began rubbing her hair.
"No man laughs at Janella," she stated flatly.
"This one does," he returned. She was an arrogant little thing—he could say that much. It was good that her attitude rubbed him the wrong way. It would help him stay aloof. He refused to think about just how long it had been since anything had made him laugh out loud. Instead, he glanced downward once, and regretted it instantly. He suddenly understood the popularity of those infamous wet T-shirt contests. The soaked, all-but-transparent material molded to her like a second skin. The shapes of her full, round breasts, chilled peaks and all, were as fully revealed as they would be if she’d been stark naked. Which was just as well, since she angrily stripped the shirt over her head and began rubbing herself vigorously.
Thomas wouldn't have been human if he hadn't looked just a little. But he quickly ordered his eyes to focus elsewhere, and turned his back.
"That's what we call a shower. It's got hot water as well as cold. It's for bathing." He heard her slipping the tight-fitting pants off, stepping out of them.
"I wish you had told me sooner." She tapped his shoulder and he turned slightly. "I have covered myself. You will not burn your eyes out if you look at me."
Seemed to irritate her that he wouldn't gawk at her naked. Well, he couldn't help it. It was tough enough looking at her with clothes on. He turned around, smiling in spite of himself at the awkward way she held the towel against her.
"Come on, I'll find you something to wear. Then we'll check to see just how thoroughly you ruined the cast." He returned to his bedroom, yanked open a drawer and managed to dig out a pair of shorts with an elastic waist and another T-shirt. He handed them to her. "I'll get you some better things today. Shouldn't be too much of a problem. Eugenia owns a clothing store in town."
She took the clothes from him, and when he saw the towel slipping away he quickly turned his back again. What, did the women up on Krypton run around naked all the time? She certainly acted as if they did. "You are kind to me," she told him, as she dressed. And it sounded as if she hated having to say it. As if every word were being forced through clenched teeth. But maybe she was through being angry with him for laughing. "I hope you will not expect me to go to the woman Eugenia. I want to stay with you."
It was half heartfelt admission, half command. But there had been no kind of request to her words. As if she didn't expect him to refuse her. He would have liked to disagree, just to show her who was in charge around here, but he'd already decided she'd be better off with him. Still, just agreeing with her was a little too much to ask of him.
"Well, it's a good thing. 'Cause you're staying here whether you like it or not."
Her brows drew together, chin coming up a little higher. "I will stay here with you because it is what I want."
He turned, ready to do battle. Who the hell did she think she was, anyway?
But the sight of her in his baggy shorts dissolved his irritation with her. He damned near laughed again. Then his amusement died when a hairbrush rose from the dresser and floated right into her waiting hand.
"Will she be angry that I refuse her offer?"
"No, she'll be fine." It still gave him the willies to see her do that. "Janella, I need to point something out to you."
She faced him, continuing to brush her hair and waiting for him to speak.
"You know the way you just made that hairbrush come to you, without actually touching it?"
She tilted her head to one side, frowning. "We can't do that."
"I do not understand."
"Okay, say I want that book over there." He pointed to the Louis L'Amour paperback on the dresser. "The only way I can get it is to walk over there, put my hands on it and pick it up."
Her brows rose in fine arches. "You cannot bring it to you?"
"Nope."
"How bothersome that must be!"
He closed his eyes for a second, opened them again. "The point is, Janella, if you go around moving things without touching them, people are going to know you're different. You want to keep your little secret, you're gonna have to try to remember not to do that."
She nodded slowly. "Yes. I see. It will not be easy, Thomas. I have been moving things that way since I was born. I do it without really thinking first."
"Yeah, well, if you do it around here, it's going to lead to trouble."
She nodded. "I will try. There is so much to remember. Keep my breasts covered, do not move things, dogs are not for meat." She rolled her eyes.
He chewed his inner cheek and wished she'd turn bitchy again so he could try to remember how to dislike her. "How are you feeling?" As he spoke, he moved closer, took the plaster-heavy arm in his hands and tested the dampness. It wasn't too bad. She'd had sense enough to hold it out away from the spray.
"Much better than before, Thomas." She glanced down at the cast as he ran his hands over it. "But this is heavy and uncomfortable. How long will it stay?"
"Six weeks."
She closed her eyes, counted on her fingers. "Six... That is forty-two of your days, Thomas!"
He nodded. "'Fraid so."
"But a bone takes only two of your days to heal. Why must I wear it so long?"
Thomas blinked in shock. "A bone takes..." He shook his head. "Ours take six weeks. Maybe you heal faster. Tell you what, after two days we'll have it x-rayed, and..." He sighed hard, pushing a hand through his hair. "Damn, I can't do that, either. A mild dose of radiation might kill you." He frowned and thought about it. "We can take the cast off and see how the arm feels, how much use you have. That ought to tell us all we need to know."
"I could heal in an hour at home by injecting a drug that reconstructs the cells. But not here. I will simply have to wait, as you suggest."
He tilted his head to one side, studying her. "You gave up a lot coming here. Your planet must be light-years ahead of us technologically."
She nodded. "Yes, but there is more to life than technology, Thomas."
He wanted to ask what the drug was, how it was developed and whether it could be duplicated on Earth. But all of that fled his mind at the intense sadness that glimmered in her eyes all of the sudden. Hell, he could almost feel her throat closing up, the burning behind her eyes, the tightness in her chest. When she bit her lip, averting her face and blinking her eyes dry, he realized his arms were moving, rising, reaching toward her. He slammed them down to his sides, balled fists probably bruising his own thighs. "So, other than the arm, how do you feel?"
"The pain is less now than last night. I imagine it w
ill not hurt at all by the end of the day.”
Her voice was a little rougher than normal, softer. Damn, what had she been thinking about that made her so sad? What the hell had she run away from?
"I need to go into town. I work there, at the clinic. You remember, I told you I was a doctor."
"Doctor." She faced him again, shocking him with the sudden transformation. Her smile damn near blinded him, and her still-damp eyes gleamed. "Healer. You are needed in this.. .clinic... to heal your people?"
"Yes."
She closed her eyes slowly. "You do this every day?"
He tilted his head, knowing she was curious about everything, but still a little thrown by the emotion in her eyes. It made him decidedly uncomfortable. "I take weekends off, unless there's an emergency. Thing is, you can't stay here alone. You ought to come along with me. I'm just wondering if you're up to it."
She lifted her chin a little higher, put her good hand on her hip and struck a stance. "I am strong, Thomas. As strong as you." Her gaze lowered to his upper arms, narrowed. "Well, nearly as strong. And I want to come with you, to watch you heal them. More than that, I want to help you. Will you teach me how?"
For crying out loud! Would wonders never cease? He studied her and shook his head. "It'll take more than one day in the clinic to teach you medicine."
Her lower lip pushed out just a little, and she looked so disappointed he had to swallow another healthy dose of surprise. "But I suppose you could help some. As long as you feel well enough."
"Yes!"
He nodded, studying her, wondering about her. "What did you do back there, Janella?"
Her lips thinned a little. That proud chin lowered. "I was in training."
"Training for what?"
She sighed, not meeting his eyes. "To take my place in the ruling house."
Thomas frowned. It sounded like something she ought to be proud of. But she didn't seem proud. It might explain her attitude, though. Maybe she was used to having her every command obeyed. "So, why'd you leave?"
She met his eyes, hers dark and distant. "I could not stay."