Page 1 of Wanted by the Alien Warden (Cowboy Colony Mail-Order Brides #4)

1

TASHA

I stared at the blank screen in my office, wiping my damp palms on my pants every time another thirty seconds passed and no call came through.

I was nervous.

Anxious, even.

It had been more than three months since I’d seen the three human women I sent off to marry Zabrian ranchers in the new human-Zabrian interplanetary bridal program. Almost four months, actually, since I’d seen Cherry. She left Elora Station early without telling anyone instead of waiting for the official transport. It was time to find out how the first months of their marriages had gone.

Though I only got to know Cherry, Magnolia, and Darcy very briefly during their orientation here on the station, I still felt largely responsible for them. I was their touchpoint. Their human-Zabrian liaison. The one who’d single-handedly organized huge chunks of this program in the first place.

I needed to know that they were healthy, happy, and thriving in their new lives.

I needed to know that I’d done a good job.

Hence the sweaty palms.

I jiggled my feet, bouncing my knees beneath my hands as I frowned at my screen. We were supposed to be having a check-in call today. Maybe there were tech issues on the other end. Or maybe something was seriously wrong. My heart went sideways in my chest as I imagined all the scenarios that might involve the human brides being unable to contact me when they were supposed to. Illness, injury, a hostage situation –

“Hello?”

I nearly fell out of my chair when the word clattered into my small office. A moment later, two sets of human eyes – one blue, one green – filled my screen.

“Hello!” I squeaked, righting myself and scooting my chair closer. I cleared my throat, trying to maintain a professional tone. “Hello. Cherry? Darcy?”

“Yes!” said Cherry, pulling back a little bit so that more of her face was visible. “We can see you and hear you.”

“Excellent!” I replied, smiling and breathing a small sigh of relief now that I could see that they were obviously alive and not chained up in a basement somewhere. Although… “Where’s Magnolia?”

“Oaken’s property is too far to come all the way to the warden’s office just for the call,” Darcy explained. “But she should be able to use Oaken’s tablet and join in the call that way. Hopefully you’ll be able to get her signal. The warden said that as long as she can connect to our call locally, then his tower can boost the signal from here and you’ll see her, too.”

“The warden. That’s Warden Tenn?” I asked. Good lord, my voice was still all over the place. It didn’t help when I remembered the warden’s stern, hard, and undeniably good-looking face when I’d conversed with him months ago while setting up the first phases of the bride program.

“Yes,” came the rocky rumble of a male, alien voice from somewhere out of sight. A heat crept into my cheeks, but I kept my face poised. A mask of pleasant professionalism.

Darcy and Cherry seemed to be satisfied with the place they’d set up whichever comms tablet they were using for this call. They stepped away, leaving it up on a table or a shelf that allowed me to see them, as well as a sparsely furnished room with wooden floors, bare walls, and big, rectangular windows. The warden’s office. Quite a contrast to my own office here on Elora Station, which was brightly-lit but windowless, all the surfaces shaped with the impersonal polish of metal and plastic.

“Well. It’s lovely to see you both,” I told Cherry and Darcy. “I’m so glad we could have this little chat. As you know, it’s been more than three months since your arrival on Zabria Prinar One, and I wanted to-”

A loud, jovial voice drowned mine out.

“We have given the shuldu water. Ah! Has it already begun?”

Two big Zabrian bodies – one golden, one orange, both shirtless – appeared on the scene. This was the first time I’d ever seen a Zabrian from the shoulders down. Warden Tenn, in previous communications, had been seated at a desk, with only his sternly handsome face, long white hair, and hat in view.

A shirtless Zabrian, it turned out, was quite the sight to behold.

The male with the sunset-orange hide lunged into the centre of the room, taking over most of my screen with all the various curves and bulges of his shoulders, abdomen, and pecs. He stepped closer, and soon the pecs were all I could see.

I was completely blinded by the man’s boobs.

Professional, Tasha! You’re a professional!

“Um, excuse me,” I said with what I hoped was a convincing tone of authority, “I can’t really see-”

“Oh! Of course!” He bent at the waist until his face was level with the tablet’s camera, giving me a clear view of high cheekbones; a sharp jaw; and warm, dark eyes, with paler brown bolts in the centres. “Hello, Tasha! I am Fallon!”

“Hello, Fallon.” I glanced quickly at my notes. “You’re Darcy’s husband?”

“Yes!” A massive smile split his face, and it was so big and so pure that I almost didn’t even notice the sharp glint of fangs there. “I am eternally grateful to be able to say that I am, indeed, Darcy’s husband!”

A groan – Darcy’s, I was fairly certain – emanated from somewhere behind Fallon’s happily grinning face.

“I have wanted to speak with you for some time,” Fallon said, his voice falling to a reverent hush. “I have wanted to thank you. For bestowing my beloved wife upon me. And-”

It was the strangest thing, but it almost looked like his eyes began to glow white.

“-to thank you for providing me with that most excellent guide to human women!”

“Guide to… Hold on. You mean that book I put together?” I felt my eyebrows rise, both with surprise that the man before me had actually read the thing, and with a slight flare of pride. I put a lot of time and work into that document in the hopes that it might smooth over any cultural confusion between the human women and their Zabrian husbands. Frankly, I was pleased as freaking punch that it had been both effective and appreciated. If someone had handed my last boyfriend a book on understanding me, he wouldn’t have even pretended to skim it before chucking it into a waste disposal chute.

“Yes,” Fallon breathed, his eyes now very, very bright white. “Without you and your most illuminating guide, I would not know about the wonders of the clitorosaurus.”

“Oh, God,” whispered Cherry.

“Fallon,” moaned Darcy. “We have talked about this!”

Fallon’s face fell, and he looked so painfully disappointed in himself that I had the sudden urge to reach through the screen and pat him on his sadly drooping shoulder.

Only, I couldn’t do that, because I was too busy internally combusting at the thought that I’d left a typo in the document I’d sent him and the others.

A typo. On that word.

I was going to die. Just… Quietly pass away at the thought. Surrender to the sweet embrace of death so I didn’t have to confront the fact that I’d misspelled fucking clitoris.

“I apologize,” Fallon said gravely. “Of course, I meant the clitorosseum.”

“Fallon!”

Jesus. Just how badly had I mangled the word?!

“Hold, please,” I croaked, scrambling to minimize the video chat with my heart pounding in temples and my cheeks. Once minimized, I could no longer see Darcy, Cherry, Fallon, or the other male who was presumably Cherry’s husband, Silar. But I could still hear them. Their words filtered into my panicky brain as I opened and rapidly scanned the document I’d written.

“Why are you bringing up impossible-to-pronounce bits of genitalia right now?” Darcy chided. “We’re supposed to be showing her how nice and normal you guys are. And now she’s going to think we’re all fucking insane.”

I chewed my lip as I raked my gaze over the various biology and sexual health sections of the book I wrote. Clitoris… Clitoris… Phew . I spelled it correctly in English. Maybe something weird had happened when that word was spelled phonetically in Zabrian letters.

“Sorry about that,” I said, managing to speak around the heart that still felt lodged in my throat. “I just had to, er, check something.”

Check that I don’t need to start a new life somewhere where no one knows I’m a colossal idiot…

“Please do not apologize!” Fallon exclaimed as I maximized the screen and his face with its wide, white eyes reappeared. “I owe you my life.”

“Um. Well.” I cast about for a reply, a little flustered by the intensity of his enthusiasm. “You’re… welcome?”

“Alright. Enough about the book,” Darcy said, rubbing her temples as Fallon stepped back to stand beside her. Despite her words, Silar appeared to have something to add on the subject, muttering under his breath about frostbite, nipples, and when, exactly, was he supposed to worry about cold water? But I obviously hadn’t heard him right, because none of that made a lick of sense.

“I feel that we’re getting off track,” I said, trying to regain control of the meeting. “The intended purpose of this conversation is to-”

“Hello? Hello? Can you guys see us?”

A new rectangle split my screen, empty black at first, but soon blinking into brightness. Magnolia and a male with black hair and dark green hide both beamed at me. They looked like they were sitting outside in lush grass. Rose gold mountains gleamed in a jagged line in the distance behind them.

“Yes! So glad you made it,” I said, sincerely happy to see her. Magnolia was such a sweet, kind soul. It was a relief to have her included today and to make sure she was doing well. “It’s wonderful to see you! And to meet your husband. It’s Oaken, correct?”

Of course it was Oaken. I had my notes right in front of me and-

“Oh, no!” she replied brightly. “Oaken isn’t my husband.”

I blinked. So did Magnolia. Her smile never wavered.

“Uh-”

“I am.” A smoke-and-gravel voice cut through the connection. The camera on the tablet Magnolia was using shifted, so that suddenly I wasn’t seeing her and a green-skinned male on her right, but I was now seeing her and a blue-skinned male on her left.

“Sorry,” I said, glancing at my notes and then back at the screen. “You’re Magnolia’s husband? But you’re not Oaken?”

“I am Oaken!” came a cheery voice from Magnolia’s right, which I assumed belonged to the big green guy no longer in frame.

“This is Garrek. My husband,” Magnolia said with a dreamy sigh, leaning her head against Garrek’s blue shoulder. Unlike Oaken, Silar, and Fallon, Garrek was wearing a garment on his upper body. It appeared to be a vest of some sort, made with delicate white lace. It seemed an odd sartorial choice, to wear such soft and pretty fabric when his face looked like it could incinerate someone with the force of its glare.

“Hold on. I have a Garrek here,” I said, squinting at my notes. “It says here Garrek chose not to participate in the bride program.”

“I changed my mind,” he said. Simple. Gruff. Blunt.

And not at all what I’d wanted to hear.

“That… That was not supposed to happen,” I said, dismay pulling at me. “Garrek, you weren’t even a participant! You said no!”

“But then I saw her.”

Magnolia’s smile got a little teary. Cherry made a quiet, “Aw!” sound.

I blew out a breath between tight lips, abandoning my notes and leaning back in my chair. This was not going at all as I’d hoped. The three women all looked healthy and well, which was great. But the program had rules. Protections. Plans. And now I was learning that those plans had changed without me even knowing about it.

“So you two are already married, then,” I said, just to confirm. Good grief, the amount of paperwork this was going to cause on my end. I could already feel a headache building at the thought…

“Yes! The warden married us,” Magnolia piped up.

“The warden did,” I repeated through clenched teeth. Just where exactly was the warden, anyway? I’d heard him speak once earlier, but he’d never entered the frame.

“The ceremony was both legal,” Garrek said with a warning growl, “and complete.”

“Of course,” I said quickly, trying to cover up my stress with yet another pinched smile. “Congratulations to you both. If the wedding has already happened and you obviously both consented to it, then there’s no question as to the legitimacy of the union.”

“There better not be!” A new face shoved its way into Magnolia and Garrek’s rectangle. A blur of teal skin and a shock of white hair, followed by the largest eyes I’d ever seen in such a cute little face. “If you say that they are not married and you try to take Magnolia away then I will end you.”

OK. I take back the cute comment.

“Killian!” Magnolia gasped at the same moment that Garrek appeared to yank him out of the frame by his tail.

“Was… Was that a child?” I stammered. “And did that child just threaten to murder me?”

“He wouldn’t have done it,” Oaken said quickly, sliding half his emerald-tinted face apologetically into the camera’s view. “Probably…”

“Oh! And, um, speaking of murder,” Magnolia said with an awkward little laugh. “Have you guys told her yet?”

“‘Speaking of murder?’” I repeated in disbelief. “What sort of segue is that?!”

“We haven’t told her yet,” Darcy replied with a grimace.

“Well,” said Cherry with what looked like a whole hell of a lot of forced optimism. “No time like the present! I told you two before your weddings and it wasn’t so bad. At least she isn’t engaged to one. This should be a piece of cake!” She took a small breath, then stared steadily into the camera. “Tasha. This isn’t a normal ranching colony planet. It’s a penal colony.”

“Excuse me,” I said after a long moment. “I’m beginning to believe that I never actually woke up this morning, and this entire conversation has been some kind of stressful fever dream. When I wake up, we’ll have the real call. Have a great day.”

I risked a glance down, just to make sure my clothes hadn’t disappeared at some point while I’d been talking. That would have been the perfect way to end this nightmare. I thought about Warden Tenn seeing me naked – even just in a dream – and felt my stomach sharply flip and then drop all the way down to my butt.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. You’re not dreaming. You’re awake. We’re not bullshitting you,” Darcy said. “These guys? They’re all convicted murderers.”

No. No, no, no.

How did we go from “penal colony” to “these guys are all convicted murderers?” Someone could have been sent to a penal colony for… I don’t know… Tax fraud!

But murder?!

And the women… Oh, God.

I was responsible for them! I was the one who sent them there!

This definitely had to be a dream. The most anxiety-inducing dream I’d ever had. I’d take being naked at work a thousand times over this.

“It’s OK!” Magnolia said quickly. “The murders were a long time ago. When they were just kids. By human standards the crimes wouldn’t even qualify as murder! It’s not like they’ve killed anyone on this planet!”

“Don’t say it,” Cherry quietly hissed at Silar.

“And we’re happy,” Darcy added firmly, her chin raised high. This was rather surprising, because when I’d met the three women on Elora Station a few months ago, Darcy had by far seemed like the least happy of the bunch. “We love our husbands. You don’t need to melt down over this. It doesn’t change anything for us.”

Fallon’s face got all slack and dopey when Darcy mentioned that she loved him. Seriously, she wanted me to believe that that sweet, grinning, alien idiot killed someone?

But if it was true… If he had…

Brainwashed. The women had to be brainwashed. What the hell kind of insanity had I sent them into? What the hell had happened?!

“This is a lot to take in,” I finally said, grasping for the right words. “You may not think it changes anything for you, but it will certainly change things for the program going forward. If it goes forward at all…”

“I would just like to interject,” said a slightly frantic-sounding Oaken, “that I have never actually murdered anyone! And I would very much still like a bride if there is one yet willing and available!”

“If you haven’t murdered anyone, then why are you in this penal colony?” I asked, narrowing my gaze at him. I didn’t trust him. I didn’t trust any of them. Least of all the stupid warden who’d apparently hid this tiny little detail from me the entire time!

“Well, I was convicted of murder,” Oaken hedged, before hurriedly adding, “but that is not at all the same thing!”

Jesus fucking Christ. On a cracker. With cheese .

I pinched my arm. And kept on pinching, pinching, pinching.

I didn’t wake up. This was real. I really did send three lovely, beautiful, innocent women into the alien claws of convicted murderers.

I had to fix it.

How?

I had no idea.

But I at least knew the first step I needed to take.

“It is unacceptable that this information was withheld from me for so long,” I said, anger turning to heat beneath my skin. “I am no longer satisfied with a virtual check-in and need to be convinced of your safety in person. You tell that warden that I am coming down there as soon as humanly possible!”

“No one needs to tell me anything. I can hear you just fine,” boomed his deep voice. Finally, the warden stepped into view. Violet hide, orange eyes, jaw like a goddamn anvil. His warden’s uniform fit his broad, bulky frame with astonishingly tailored perfection.

He tipped his hat towards me, making a silver Zabrian badge flash in the sunlight. “You are more than welcome to come and see the conditions for yourself,” he said, and if I wasn’t mistaken, there was a hint of arrogant challenge in the words. “I look forward to your arrival.”

His orange eyes met mine. They seared briefly white.

And then, without warning, apology, or a goodbye, the bastard ended the call.