out, he had no success with long-term commitments.
“Like I said,” he murmured, “I can’t make a promise other than to do my best. I need you to rest, but also keep a regular routine of exercise. Walk as much as you can to keep your muscles fit. You’ll need them.”
And frankly, that was all he could do. An ob-gyn from years past would have checked her urine, her blood pressure, her dilation. He had neither the equipment nor the expertise for any of that.
Some doctor.
But this eager woman didn’t need the burden of his doubts.
“I’ll do that, Chris. Do you mind if I call you Chris?”
He smiled, overcome. She had a personality like champagne bubbles. “Not at all.”
“And if you need anything, just let me know. Jameson is a really good hunter. He kills all the lizards I call.”
Chris blinked. “Excuse me?”
She rubbed her stomach again. “Isn’t it weird? All the inexplicable things. One morning I woke up and found a lizard sitting next to me on a rock. Jameson and I hadn’t eaten in days. He bagged it. We were desperate and ate it. After that . . . I could just think of a lizard and one would come running.”
“You’re serious.”
“Sure. I try not to anymore because we don’t need the meat and I don’t want to abuse the gift.” She shrugged as Chris tried to reconcile the weirdness of this sunny woman and her frank talk about calling lizards. And eating them.
But that was the Change. Chris could either accept the irrationality of it or go mad. He’d chosen the former a long time ago.
SEVEN
That afternoon Rosa worked in the garden. As with all chores, the townsfolk traded off the responsibility. That meant the men had their turns as well, but today Mica, Abigail, and Ingrid labored beside her, pulling weeds and harvesting produce. The needs of the community meant they didn’t have much opportunity to store food, instead eating fruits and vegetables as soon as they came ripe.
“What do you think of the new guy?” Mica asked, leaning on her hoe. She wasn’t pretty, but she had a bright, friendly personality. That made her good company by any definition.
Rosa didn’t answer, figuring the woman must be talking to Ingrid. But the rest of them stopped working and gazed at her, brows raised. For a moment Rosa pictured Chris Welsh. Her stomach muscles tightened. As a rule she didn’t rate men’s attractiveness, not even playfully, but if she did? He’d win.
“It’s too soon to say, but we could use some medical help, that’s for sure.”
Abigail nodded. “Especially with Tilly being near her time.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Mica went back to work, but her eyes glinted with mischief. “He’s pretty damn fine, even with that beard and a year’s worth of trail dust. Don’t you think?”
Somehow Rosa kept her expression noncommittal to avoid being teased. “He’s okay. More important, he looks strong enough to fight.”
“Is that all you ever think about?” Thankfully Mica let the subject rest and turned her attention to Ingrid. “So what’s the deal with you and Ex?”
The tall blonde shrugged. She’d hacked her hair down to a fingertip’s length from her skull. The resultant wild spikes suited her. She had a strong face rather than a beautiful one, and her arms were ropy with muscle. “I like him fine.”
“But you’re not looking at him to get you in the family way,” Abigail guessed.
Ingrid laughed. “God, no. And I can’t, even if I wanted to.”
The other women expressed sympathy, but Rosa remained silent. Her experience whispered that being barren might not be a bad thing. At least if the worst occurred, it was impossible to be stuck with your rapist’s child. Of course it also meant Ingrid would never hold a baby given to her in love, but maybe it was a safe trade.
Rosa let the familiar gossip wash over her: who was sleeping with whom, who wanted to, and who had been eating more than his share at dinner. Abigail excused herself to
“Like I said,” he murmured, “I can’t make a promise other than to do my best. I need you to rest, but also keep a regular routine of exercise. Walk as much as you can to keep your muscles fit. You’ll need them.”
And frankly, that was all he could do. An ob-gyn from years past would have checked her urine, her blood pressure, her dilation. He had neither the equipment nor the expertise for any of that.
Some doctor.
But this eager woman didn’t need the burden of his doubts.
“I’ll do that, Chris. Do you mind if I call you Chris?”
He smiled, overcome. She had a personality like champagne bubbles. “Not at all.”
“And if you need anything, just let me know. Jameson is a really good hunter. He kills all the lizards I call.”
Chris blinked. “Excuse me?”
She rubbed her stomach again. “Isn’t it weird? All the inexplicable things. One morning I woke up and found a lizard sitting next to me on a rock. Jameson and I hadn’t eaten in days. He bagged it. We were desperate and ate it. After that . . . I could just think of a lizard and one would come running.”
“You’re serious.”
“Sure. I try not to anymore because we don’t need the meat and I don’t want to abuse the gift.” She shrugged as Chris tried to reconcile the weirdness of this sunny woman and her frank talk about calling lizards. And eating them.
But that was the Change. Chris could either accept the irrationality of it or go mad. He’d chosen the former a long time ago.
SEVEN
That afternoon Rosa worked in the garden. As with all chores, the townsfolk traded off the responsibility. That meant the men had their turns as well, but today Mica, Abigail, and Ingrid labored beside her, pulling weeds and harvesting produce. The needs of the community meant they didn’t have much opportunity to store food, instead eating fruits and vegetables as soon as they came ripe.
“What do you think of the new guy?” Mica asked, leaning on her hoe. She wasn’t pretty, but she had a bright, friendly personality. That made her good company by any definition.
Rosa didn’t answer, figuring the woman must be talking to Ingrid. But the rest of them stopped working and gazed at her, brows raised. For a moment Rosa pictured Chris Welsh. Her stomach muscles tightened. As a rule she didn’t rate men’s attractiveness, not even playfully, but if she did? He’d win.
“It’s too soon to say, but we could use some medical help, that’s for sure.”
Abigail nodded. “Especially with Tilly being near her time.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Mica went back to work, but her eyes glinted with mischief. “He’s pretty damn fine, even with that beard and a year’s worth of trail dust. Don’t you think?”
Somehow Rosa kept her expression noncommittal to avoid being teased. “He’s okay. More important, he looks strong enough to fight.”
“Is that all you ever think about?” Thankfully Mica let the subject rest and turned her attention to Ingrid. “So what’s the deal with you and Ex?”
The tall blonde shrugged. She’d hacked her hair down to a fingertip’s length from her skull. The resultant wild spikes suited her. She had a strong face rather than a beautiful one, and her arms were ropy with muscle. “I like him fine.”
“But you’re not looking at him to get you in the family way,” Abigail guessed.
Ingrid laughed. “God, no. And I can’t, even if I wanted to.”
The other women expressed sympathy, but Rosa remained silent. Her experience whispered that being barren might not be a bad thing. At least if the worst occurred, it was impossible to be stuck with your rapist’s child. Of course it also meant Ingrid would never hold a baby given to her in love, but maybe it was a safe trade.
Rosa let the familiar gossip wash over her: who was sleeping with whom, who wanted to, and who had been eating more than his share at dinner. Abigail excused herself to
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