believe I could unite the republics, then you wouldn't be here."
chapter six
Red stared at the compunit screen, unable to focus. Her stomach twisted into angry knots. It didn't help that everyone in town was giving her dirty looks as if she was somehow responsible for Morgan leaving. He had been gone for a week—a week that felt more like an eternity—and she hadn't heard a word from him.
Leaving her in charge had been a mistake. She'd known it when he told her his plans. She didn't know a thing about the day-to-day operations of a town. Give her a tactical team and she knew what to do, but running a town required diplomacy and tact. Hell, everything she lacked. Not to mention it had caused trouble in the sheriff's station.
The animosity was like a living entity, pressing in from all around, waiting to devour her. Red didn't have to look up to confirm her suspicions. She could feel the eyes of the deputies upon her. They were angry that one of them hadn't been appointed to lead. Even Maggie seemed resentful to have been relegated to second in command. It was the same when she walked around town.
No matter where she went, Nurians watched, waiting for her to slip up. It had been like that for a week and wasn't showing signs of stopping. She'd done her best to ease the tension by assuring them that Morgan would return shortly.
They hadn't bought it. The truth was, Red had no idea when he'd return, but it couldn't be soon enough.
Just the thought of Morgan brought fresh pain flooding in. She knew he'd made it to the Santa Fe Cloning Laboratory because they'd sent notice of his application to the sheriff's station. That had started tongues wagging and they hadn't stopped since.
Someone cleared his throat.
Red glanced at the interviewee, startled that she'd forgotten all about him, and wishing she was anywhere else but here working. His soft brown eyes stared back at her with compassion. "I'm sorry. Name?" she asked.
"Juan Sanchez," he said.
He had a kind face and a peaceful demeanor. His black hair was cut short, nearly shaved at the sides, but the hard angles did little to sharpen his sensual features. His light brown skin glowed with vitality.
Just being around him made the tension ease in her shoulders and neck. Red knew that gentleness didn't always denote an unlikely candidate, but it did stack the odds against him. They were looking for warriors, not ambassadors of peace. Juan watched her closely, but she could read nothing in his expression.
"Former occupation?" He smiled.
"Educator."
That fits, Red thought. 'That's a good occupation. One that would pay far more than tactical work. Why change jobs?"
Juan shrugged. "Education is becoming more and more automated. Pretty soon teachers like me will be obsolete. At least this way I can make a difference in people's lives."
She typed in his answer on the application. "Fair enough," she said. "Birthplace?"
"The Republic of the Floridian Islands."
Red brows rose. "Like Demery Wilson, you're a long way from home, Mr. Sanchez."
"I could say the same about you, Ms. Santiago." His mocha eyes glittered as his smile returned.
Red's gaze narrowed and her attention sharpened. "How did you know my name?"
"I'm psychic," he said. "And you're easy to read. Especially when you're in so much pain. Besides, everyone in here has been staring at you like you're an outsider. I thought it was my presence that had garnered so much attention, but then I realized they weren't looking at me."
She glanced around to see if anyone had overheard his comment. At her notice, the men looked away.
"I'm sorry you're hurting," he said, leaning a little closer. "You're a stronger leader than you realize. And someday, you will be a great one."
Stunned, Red sat back. "You don't know what you're talking about," she snapped. "Now stay out of my head."
"As you wish." Juan inclined his head. "I
chapter six
Red stared at the compunit screen, unable to focus. Her stomach twisted into angry knots. It didn't help that everyone in town was giving her dirty looks as if she was somehow responsible for Morgan leaving. He had been gone for a week—a week that felt more like an eternity—and she hadn't heard a word from him.
Leaving her in charge had been a mistake. She'd known it when he told her his plans. She didn't know a thing about the day-to-day operations of a town. Give her a tactical team and she knew what to do, but running a town required diplomacy and tact. Hell, everything she lacked. Not to mention it had caused trouble in the sheriff's station.
The animosity was like a living entity, pressing in from all around, waiting to devour her. Red didn't have to look up to confirm her suspicions. She could feel the eyes of the deputies upon her. They were angry that one of them hadn't been appointed to lead. Even Maggie seemed resentful to have been relegated to second in command. It was the same when she walked around town.
No matter where she went, Nurians watched, waiting for her to slip up. It had been like that for a week and wasn't showing signs of stopping. She'd done her best to ease the tension by assuring them that Morgan would return shortly.
They hadn't bought it. The truth was, Red had no idea when he'd return, but it couldn't be soon enough.
Just the thought of Morgan brought fresh pain flooding in. She knew he'd made it to the Santa Fe Cloning Laboratory because they'd sent notice of his application to the sheriff's station. That had started tongues wagging and they hadn't stopped since.
Someone cleared his throat.
Red glanced at the interviewee, startled that she'd forgotten all about him, and wishing she was anywhere else but here working. His soft brown eyes stared back at her with compassion. "I'm sorry. Name?" she asked.
"Juan Sanchez," he said.
He had a kind face and a peaceful demeanor. His black hair was cut short, nearly shaved at the sides, but the hard angles did little to sharpen his sensual features. His light brown skin glowed with vitality.
Just being around him made the tension ease in her shoulders and neck. Red knew that gentleness didn't always denote an unlikely candidate, but it did stack the odds against him. They were looking for warriors, not ambassadors of peace. Juan watched her closely, but she could read nothing in his expression.
"Former occupation?" He smiled.
"Educator."
That fits, Red thought. 'That's a good occupation. One that would pay far more than tactical work. Why change jobs?"
Juan shrugged. "Education is becoming more and more automated. Pretty soon teachers like me will be obsolete. At least this way I can make a difference in people's lives."
She typed in his answer on the application. "Fair enough," she said. "Birthplace?"
"The Republic of the Floridian Islands."
Red brows rose. "Like Demery Wilson, you're a long way from home, Mr. Sanchez."
"I could say the same about you, Ms. Santiago." His mocha eyes glittered as his smile returned.
Red's gaze narrowed and her attention sharpened. "How did you know my name?"
"I'm psychic," he said. "And you're easy to read. Especially when you're in so much pain. Besides, everyone in here has been staring at you like you're an outsider. I thought it was my presence that had garnered so much attention, but then I realized they weren't looking at me."
She glanced around to see if anyone had overheard his comment. At her notice, the men looked away.
"I'm sorry you're hurting," he said, leaning a little closer. "You're a stronger leader than you realize. And someday, you will be a great one."
Stunned, Red sat back. "You don't know what you're talking about," she snapped. "Now stay out of my head."
"As you wish." Juan inclined his head. "I
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