Page 28 of Rescued by the Alien Bull Rider (Cowboy Colony Mail-Order Brides #6)

JOLENE

I woke with a start, panicking, believing I’d fallen asleep with Baby Girl in the bed. I’d been breastfeeding her after Zohro closed me up – or trying to, anyway – and I’d been so tired. Zohro had dimmed the lights, and…

I couldn’t remember anything else.

I lurched in the bed, a second, smaller cot that Zohro had rolled out of storage for me after the surgery so that the other could be cleaned.

She wasn’t there.

My throat closed up with fear. I opened my mouth, tried to shout-

And then I saw her. Saw them both.

Zohro was seated on the medical table – now cleaned, no speck of the surgery left upon it. He had no sign of the surgery left on him, either, stripped of his gloves and his garb.

And in his arms, he held my baby. Against his body. Skin to skin.

He was smiling. Again . It wasn’t as big and broad as the one I’d glimpsed immediately after Baby Girl’s delivery. It was a softer version. Quieter. An expression that made no demands, but simply lingered, a wordless promise of tenderness in the dark.

He’d never looked at me that way. And I couldn’t even find it in me to be jealous. I was too damn happy that Baby Girl not only had a mother who loved her…

But might even have a father, too.

“That’s right,” Zohro murmured, his eyes never leaving her face.

I realized then that Baby Girl was holding tightly onto one of Zohro’s big fingers.

“That is the distal phalange. Yes! I see that you’ve already remembered that term from earlier, you clever girl.

You’ll know the name of every bone in both your body and mine before you reach the age of three cycles, you mark my words. ”

I’d never seen this side of Zohro. This easy, happy version. For once, there was no urgency in him. No scowl. No impatience. It was like he had nothing he’d rather be doing right now. Nowhere he’d rather be.

That was one way that Baby Girl would not be like me.

She’d never know what it was like to not have people entirely devoted to you. To put you first. Always.

“I think you might even be more intelligent than me!” Zohro was saying now, in an enthusiastic, cooing tone I’d never heard from him before. “But please, do not tell anyone. It would ruin my reputation, and I must cling to what little of that I have left.”

I snorted at that. The first Zohro joke I’d ever heard. Maybe even the first joke he’d ever told.

To a baby who couldn’t even understand the words. Who had no idea how momentous this was.

The sound drew Zohro’s attention, and he rose at once, bringing Baby Girl with him.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, all his easiness gone, the intensity back in his white gaze.

“Immediately after closing you up, I administered a nano-particle medication. It was the same one that helped Warden Tenn recover from his injuries. Extremely expensive,” he added, “but if the warden is worth such a thing, then you are worth that ten times over.”

“I feel… Tired,” I said. I looked at Baby Girl, nestled so perfectly in Zohro’s arms, her dark eyes wide and alert. “Happy.”

“What about pain?”

I shifted slightly, feeling a bruised sensation in my lower abdomen, but nothing that would indicate I’d gone through a major surgery less than six hours ago.

“No pain, I don’t think. I’m a little tender, but that’s it.”

Zohro flicked his tail in apparent satisfaction.

“Good. This should only continue to improve over the coming days. The medication is working to repair you from the inside out.”

Baby Girl’s tiny, perfect little mouth began to open and shut. She lifted a fist and began to suck on it.

“Hungry,” Zohro said.

“How do you know?” I asked, surprised he could recognize that sign in her already.

“I read about it, of course. In The Complete Guide to Caring for Your Newborn Baby: Human Edition. ”

“You read that, too? When the hell did you have time? I mean, heck,” I said quickly. I’d promised myself I’d try to curb the potty mouth around my child, because she was a flawless angel baby that deserved my best behaviour.

“I am a fast reader,” Zohro said simply, as if it wasn’t impressive at all that he’d consumed a massive catalogue of dense, technical material in mere days that most normal people would take months, if not years, to comprehend.

“Do you want to try sitting up this time?” Zohro asked. “Or would you like me to get some of the formula?”

“I’ll try,” I said.

“Are you certain?” Zohro eyed me closely. “You require rest. As long as she is fed, that is all that matters.”

“I’m OK. I really want to give it another shot.”

I tried sitting up on my own, but I needn’t have bothered.

Somehow, Zohro kept Baby Girl perfectly positioned against his chest and got his other arm around my back, easing me upwards.

Then, he handed Baby Girl to me. I hunched over, trying to get her into position so she could latch.

She did, and it was faster this time. I wasn’t sure if it was actually working yet, but she seemed to be on there alright.

I watched the little curve of her cheek pucker as her jaw moved.

I ran my fingers along the tiny, perfect shape of her little head.

Her hair was the most beautiful shade of dark, gingery red.

The colour of fall leaves, of Terratribe II pumpkins, of fragrant spiced drinks.

“Have you put any more thought into what you wish to name her?” Zohro asked. He was watching me, not her.

“A little. But nothing’s jumping out at me yet.” I hesitated, then asked, “What do you think?”

His brows rose.

“You wish for me to help name her?”

“Yes,” I said quietly. “If you want to. What do you think of? When you look at her?”

“I think of you.”

I laughed, readjusting my hold on her.

“Well, I wasn’t planning on naming her Jolene Junior! What else do you think of?”

“I think of your strength. Your bravery. Your laugh. I think of how far you came to bring her here. I think about the moonlight bathing you the first time that I saw you. I think of this season of harvest, with its cool breezes and all the warm colours.”

“She makes me think of this season, too,” I said, feeling more and more like we were on the right track.

The season she was born.

The season I met Zohro.

The short span of time before cold winter that had so irrevocably shaped my life. Brought us both here to this new home.

“Autumn,” I said, gazing down at her. “That’s her name.”

The next time that I woke, it was to the sound of Zohro’s voice.

“I hope you know how lucky you are to have the youngest-ever graduate of the Medical Academy of Zabria wiping your bottom right now,” he said.

He was once again stationed at the other medical bed, but instead of sitting, he was bent over it, Autumn’s ankles in one big hand, the other hand cleaning her with a damp cloth.

“Truly, you are blessed beyond compare,” he continued, arrogant as a king, though his eyes glinted with warmth. “I would wipe no other bottom but yours. Except your mother’s, of course.”

“Hold on. Did you wipe me off?” I asked. Zohro looked up from where he’d been swiftly tying a cloth diaper onto Autumn’s body.

“Of course. You were probably still numb from the waist down and did not notice. But there was amniotic fluid and other material that you needed cleansed from your skin.”

Other material.

Oh… Oh God…

“Please, for the love of all that is holy, Zohro. Don’t tell me that I shit myself.” I groaned, mortified.

Thank God I’d mostly given up on the idea that he might ever want to fuck me.

He lifted Autumn and placed her little newborn body against his upper chest and shoulder. He held her so comfortably, and she seemed completely content with him.

If I hadn’t just given birth, I was pretty sure that the mere sight of Zohro holding a newborn would be enough to make me instantly pregnant.

“Don’t tell you?” this absolute god of domestic masculinity said to me. “Fine. Then I will not.”

“What does that mean?!” I screeched.

“I cannot say,” he replied. So hot. So cryptic. So infuriating. “I have been instructed not to tell you.”

“OK. So that means I did . Hurray for wet cloths. Thank you for your service, Zohro! Chip, chip, cheerio!”

“What the blazes are you talking about?” Zohro asked. “Do I need to do a head exam?”

Even Autumn’s eyes were on me now, as if she could sense the unspooling of her mother’s dignity.

“No,” I muttered. “But if I could have a bath now, that would be great.”

At some point when I’d been sleeping, when he wasn’t settling comfortably into his role of the hottest newborn caretaker ever, Zohro had scrubbed and disinfected the tub. But he steered me away from that option, fretting about cervical dilation and my still-healing uterine wall.

“The nano-medication works well,” he said, “and quickly. But your body still needs its own time to recover.”

“Yeah, you’re telling me,” I said, glancing down at the saggy puffiness of my stomach.

I’d known that I wouldn’t go back to my old body, especially not right away, but there was something weirdly deflating about having a whole damn baby taken out of me and still looking so swollen and different from before.

I focused on the healthy baby in Zohro’s arms, and the fact that I was alive to be with her, and tried to let insecurities over what I looked like fall away.

Zohro brought Autumn and me over to the place where I’d always filled the tub up, but then he shoved the tub out of the way.

“Sit here,” he said, throwing a strong arm around my waist and slowly lowering me to the pristine floor. “Hold Autumn. Maybe take her diaper off, as it is going to get wet.”

I did so, then settled her sleepy softness against the crook of my neck. Zohro lifted the hose I usually used to fill the tub, and attached a head onto it. When the water came out, it was dispersed through the head in a gentle, warm spray.

“Oh, brilliant. Thank you,” I said. I reached for the hose, then pulled my arm back, unwilling to hold onto Autumn one-handed, especially if her smooth skin got wet and slippery.

And it didn’t seem like Zohro had planned on giving it to me, anyway.

Instead, he knelt beside us on the floor, holding the hose above us – only after he’d checked the temperature of the water, of course.

I gave a gasp of pure delight when the soft stream of water hit me.

I closed my eyes and swayed a little, only for Zohro’s arm to wrap around my waist again, this time alongside his tail, holding me firmly against him.

I opened my eyes, watching the water turn Autumn’s hair dark and shiny as it gently coursed over her back.

“Is that alright?” Zohro murmured.

“It’s perfect,” I breathed.

I held my baby in my arms.

And I loved the husband who made water fall, like cleansing rain, upon us.