Men of Anderas II: Dak the Protector (22 page)

Jamison walked around the bar to stand
beside Dak. “Go on about your business, folks. Fun’s over for
tonight.”

When the games resumed, Jamison turned to
Dak with a huge grin on his grizzled face and his hand stretched
out. “I’ll be double dipped in horse dung!” He bellowed, pumping
Dak’s hand. “I ain’t never seen a fight end that fast without even
a splinter kicked up. I don’t know what you did or how you did it,
but you sure impressed the hell outta me, boy, and that’s a fact.
Guess I better stop callin’ you
boy
, huh?”

Dak laughed with his boss. “You can call me
anything you want as long as you don’t mean it as an insult.”

Jamison’s cackle filled the air. “After
tonight,
Dak
, won’t nobody risk insultin’ you. Come on, I’ll
buy you a drink.”

When the last of the customers staggered out
in the wee hours of the morning Dak locked the door behind them and
started gathering up the glasses, cards and dice. Jamison
disappeared into the back and Dak didn’t see him until he was
sweeping the floor.

“Put that broom down, son. I’ll finish up.”
He carried two plates piled high with food and set them on one of
the makeshift tables. “Come eat, you’ve earned a good meal.”

Dak was hungry enough to chew on shoe
leather and the food smelled wonderful. When he spotted the grilled
steak on his plate he gave Jamison a mock glare. “This isn’t the
same steak you had on your eye this morning, is it?”

“Hellava thing to ask a man. Just eat your
damn food.”

Dak laughed and tackled the huge steak and
mounds of fried potatoes. Thirty minutes later he was naked and
trying to find a comfortable position on the cot.

He couldn’t seem to wipe the grin from his
face. Before he left the table, Jamison handed him a small leather
bag. Inside were two gold coins. When he asked his boss what they
were for the old man actually turned red. Seems the man thought his
repairs to the furnishings earned him the coins. Dak tried to give
them back since all he did was quick, emergency repairs--nothing
worth two gold coins. Jamison muttered something about paying good
wages for good work before storming out to his own quarters.

Looked like luck was finally on his side. He
needed a place to stay and a job and got both. He needed to find a
way to make more than his salary and if Jamison wanted to pay him
to do the maintenance work around the bar, he was more than
willing. Everything was going to be okay. He’d soon be able to
contact JarDan and start looking for his men. Anything past that he
didn’t want to think about.

That first night set the pattern for the
next two months. Word spread about Jamison’s new bouncer and most
of the customers followed the rules and everyone had an enjoyable
evening. About once a week some young rooster would strut in
thinking he could take on the big man. He soon realized the error
in his judgment and found somewhere else to spend his money.

With very little trouble from the customers,
Dak had plenty of time to join the card games. He won a little and
lost a little but was too cautious with his money to risk it on
luck. At the end of the night he would crawl into bed with a bottle
of Jamison’s private stock and try to silence Kierin’s voice and
drown his memories of her.

Even his subconscious betrayed him. He
dreamed of Anderas and the home he would never again see; of JarDan
and Melodie in Arica’s garden; of memories both bitter and sweet.
As the days turned into weeks, the dreams changed. JarDan no longer
walked among the roses with Melodie. Kierin now sat in the grass
playing with a dark-haired boy. Her son.
His
son. He saw
them in every special place he remembered and his anguish and
heartache knew no bounds.

He should hate her for what she did but he
couldn’t and he refused to examine what he did feel for the crystal
witch. The alcohol was a temporary release from reality.

Life was practically perfect. Until, he
tried to sleep. When he closed his eyes his mind and body betrayed
him. He heard the whisper of Kierin’s voice in the breeze coming
through the open window. Felt the caress of her hand every time the
blanket shifted. Even the soap he used when he shaved reminded him
of Kierin.

His body hardened instantly. He couldn’t
believe he could still want her after what she did but the proof
was pulsing painfully against his abdomen.

It was great sex and I want more. That’s
all. Make that unbelievable sex. Mind-blowing sex.
Universe-altering sex.

“By the Beard of the Prophet, give it a
rest.” Dak mumbled in the dark. “So the sex was the best you’ve
ever had. Get over it.”

He tossed around in the bed until total
physical exhaustion took control of his whirling thoughts and he
went to sleep.

Chapter Eighteen

Before his feet hit the floor Dak was
running for the back door, emptying the contents of his stomach and
begging to die. By the third day Jamison noticed.

“Boy, you need to lay off that bug juice for
a while, don’cha think?”

“Must have been something I ate.” Dak
mumbled wishing the man would go away and let him die in peace.

Jamison slapped him on the back and laughed.
“You could be right about that. I ain’t never seen a body boil
kava
meat in the first place and then to dip that slimy,
grey hunk of meat in honey and roll it in salt before ya eat
it--well, that would make most any man hurl.”

Dak’s stomach rumbled ominously at the
mention of food. “Please. If you have a shred of human compassion
you will change the subject.”

Jamison left him sitting in the grass behind
the bar. The last Dak heard was the older man grumbling about fools
and drunks. So he was hitting the bottle a little heavy the past
few days. He had to do something to silence that annoying voice in
his head whispering to him of
what might have been
. He’d ask
Jamison if there was a physician nearby who could prescribe a
sleeping medicine if the alcohol continued making him so sick.

* * * *

“Good morning. How may I help you?”

Dak eyed the woman dressed in white behind
the counter. She seemed harmless enough despite the reptilian green
skin. The smile was as real as the gentle concern in her yellow
eyes.

“I’d like to see the physician.”

“That would be me, young man. I’m called
Selah. What seems to be the problem?”

He glanced around the small room. A handful
of straight-back chairs lined the pale blue walls and a table with
small toys stacked neatly in the center completed the furnishings.
The counter where he and the physician were standing was the only
other item in the room. This was nothing like the Medi Centers on
Anderas or his travel craft, but he wasn’t in a position to
complain.

“I’ve had trouble keeping food down for
several days.”

“Oh, my,” Selah indicated a door behind her.
“Let’s see what we can find out.”

She led Dak to a windowless room painted the
same light blue as the waiting area. A narrow cot sat in one
corner; glass fronted shelves lined most of the walls; and a small
table with two low chairs occupied the center of the floor.

“Please be seated and tell me about this
problem.”

“It started a week ago--maybe a little
longer. I wake up every morning and before my feet hit the floor,
I’m running for the door.”

“Hmm.” She mumbled after making notes on her
pad. “Anything else unusual in your daily routine?”

“Like what?” He wasn’t too impressed with
her
hmm
. What the hell did that mean, anyway?

“Anything that isn’t normal for you.” She
stopped scribbling long enough to look at him and smile.

Dak thought about his
normal
day.
Wake up, throw up. “I’ve been eating some pretty strange meals.
Could that be what’s making me sick?”

“Possibly. What do you consider
strange?”

“Boiled
kava
in honey and salt.” His
stomach clenched just thinking about it.

“I think I’m glad to be a vegetarian.” Selah
said with a delicate shudder. “I thought
kava
was always
roasted or fried?”

“That’s what I thought, but, honestly Selah,
I can’t get enough of the stuff.”

“What else?” At least she was looking at him
instead of the note pad. Somehow that didn’t make him feel any
better.

“I’m always sleepy, but I work nights and
I’m not used to sleeping during the day. I have a difficult time
getting to sleep.” He shifted on the chair that was too low for his
long legs. “My feet are swollen.”

“Any fever? Rash? Insect bite?” She asked,
scribbling again.

“No. Just the problem with my food.”

“I’m going to do a full body scan. That
should tell us if there’s anything to worry about. Please place
your back firmly against that metal plate on the wall and remain as
still as possible. This should only take a few minutes.”

Dak followed her instructions and watched
while she programmed her monitor and began the process.

“If you were female, I’d say you were
pregnant.” Selah laughed. “I had the same symptoms when I carried
my children.”

Dak prayed his face didn’t betray him.
Kierin
was
pregnant. Morning sickness. He felt her cramping
when she had her period but she said it was because of all the
crystals. There aren’t that many crystals in the whole town.
So
why are you experiencing her morning sickness
?

Thirty minutes later he left with pills for
the
morning sickness
and a mild sedative to help him sleep.
The diagnosis was an intestinal infection. Dak knew better. He was
sharing all the early stages of Kierin’s pregnancy. If she was
blocking these symptoms like she did her menstrual cramps she was
in worse shape than he could even imagine.

So what are you going to do about it?

Nothing! She tricked you remember.

She lied.

She didn’t have a choice.

I left her alone.

You left her with Talon.

He’s blind.

Way to go, idiot. You’re arguing with
yourself.

Determined to ignore his own internal
debate, Dak headed back to the bar. Saturday night meant the place
would be packed and he actually hoped there would be trouble. He
could use a good, knuckle-busting, lip-splitting brawl to bring his
testosterone levels back up to
manly
levels.

* * * *

“What’s got ya so frowned up, son?”

Dak glanced down at Jamison sitting on the
floor behind the bar. “It’s after midnight and there hasn’t been
the first cross word. Why doesn’t someone start a fight? And why
are you sitting on the floor?” He growled. When Jamison raised his
eyebrow Dak knew his attitude was about to get him in trouble.
“Sorry. I’m in a piss-ass mood tonight.”

“Ya need to get laid.” Jamison stated
baldly, causing Dak to choke on his drink. “I’m serious, son. Ya
been walking around like a damned eunuch since ya got here. I ain’t
never seen ya with a woman. Ya do like the women don’cha?”

“I like women just fine.” Dak replied with a
straight face. He needed to change the subject--fast. “You never
did tell me why you’re sitting on the floor.”

“My bar. My floor. I’ll sit on it anytime I
feel like it. Ya think yur bad enough to do somethin’ about
it?”

“Guess it’s not my business.” Dak answered
before turning back to the action in the room.

“I don’ want Gussie to see me.” Jamison
mumbled. “She won’t come through the door but she’s on the prowl
and if she sees me I’m a gonner fer sure.”

“Who’s Gussie?” Dak had witnessed Jamison
stand down the rowdiest miner without blinking. Whoever
Gussie
was she had him spooked.

“My wife.” Jamison whispered.

“Wife?” Dak yelled. “I didn’t know you were
married.”

“Shut yur fool mouth. Ya want every mother
lovin’ loser in the place to hear ya. We ain’t lived together fur
near ten years an’ I don’t aim to start back now. She’s got some
fool notion that we’re some kinda
soul mates
if ya can
believe such crap. Sez she
feels
every time I get hurt or
sick. Sez she gets sick at the same time. Just a load of crap if ya
ask me. Now she’s done tracked me from clear the other side of the
planet.”

Dak wanted to laugh but didn’t dare.
Besides, it looked like he and Gussie had something in common.

“I’ll protect you, Jamison. It’s what you
pay me to do.” He smiled at the worried man.

“Smart ass. Just you wait. Some little gal’s
gonna tie you up good and proper one of these days ‘n then ya won’
be so full of shit.”

* * * *

Sunrise brought an end to Jamison’s worries
and Dak made quick work of the cleaning while Jamison cooked
breakfast. He was looking forward to a good day’s rest with one of
the sleeping pills from the doctor. He was running on pure
determination.

“Sit down. Eat up. Go to bed. I don’ want
nobody thinkin’ there’s anybody here.” He slammed the plates of
steak and potatoes on the table.

“You said she wouldn’t come through the
door.” Dak asked around a mouthful of the potatoes. So far, no
queasy stomach.

“She won’ come in here at night with all the
drinkin’ and gamblin’. Daylight gives her all the courage she needs
to bust my ass.” Jamison kept one eye on his plate and one on the
window. “Eat faster, Dak, she could be comin’ down the road as we
sit here.”

“Jamison you can’t keep hiding. What happens
when you have to go for supplies? If she’s tracked you for this
long, do you really think hiding in the store room or crouched
behind the bar is going to dissuade her for long? Have you tried
talking to her?”

“That old gal don’ know the meanin’ of
leave me be
. She wants to make an honest man of me. Now I
ask ya, do I look like the kinda man to go to dinner parties ‘n
shop fer women’s foolishness.” Jamison pushed his plate across the
table. “Now look what ya jus’ did. Ya made me lose my appetite. I’m
goin’ to bed.”