“I have some.” Amity glared at Marshall.
His former CO remained impassive, but Faith winced. “I’m sorry,” she said.
Amity bumped her shoulder. “We’re a team. If you weren’t going to stay on Terra Nova, then I didn’t want to either. None of this is your fault,” she said and then scowled at Marshall to show whom she blamed. From the moment she had awakened, she’d been hostile toward Marshall.
Marshallhadtranqued her, but the intensity of the animosity almost seemed like she felt betrayed, like they had a history, but that couldn’t be the case. They’d never met until she’d come to on the ship.
The wagon rolled to a stop, and the alien driver ensconced in the cab bounded out of the vehicle. He unlatched the wagon’s side gate enabling Bragg to slide out and then help the women disembark. Marshall followed. An alien, silver from head to toe,approached, beaming a glittery smile. “Welcome to Artisan’s Loft! I’mLucento. You must be Mr. and Mrs. Bragg, and Mr. and Mrs. Clark.”
“We’re the Braggs,” he said proudly. It had taken nearly a week for Refuge to approve the ladies’ asylum, which had been contingent upon marital status. As soon as they’d been allowed to disembark, they’d been led to an intake center, whereupon a Cosmic Mates officiant, a purple alien woman named JuJu, had united him and Faith and Amity and Marshall in provisional matrimony. It had taken another day to get final residency assignments.
“Yes.” Faith linked her arm through his.
“Unfortunately, so,” Amity muttered.
“Ungrateful much?” Marshall said.
“Don’t do me any more favors,” she snapped.
“No worries about that,” he said.
Amity had balked at marrying Marshall but was forced to accept that if she wished to go to Refuge, it was the sole option. She’d gone ahead with the ceremony but glowered and sniped at Marshall at every opportunity. Although his former CO could be as warm as an icicle, Bragg privately thought Amity ought to cut him a little slack.
“Uh, well. I’m glad you’ve all arrived at Artisan’s Loft, where sanctuary and craft combine to make beautiful lives.”
He and Faith shared a grin of amusement. The sentiment was cheesy, but he embraced it with open arms. He and Faith were free from Dark Ops, safe from arrest and retaliation, and he’d married the woman he loved. Life was indeed beautiful.
“I suppose you’re wondering what your work assignments will be,” Lucento said. “I understand Mrs. Bragg is a pottery artist. She’s been assigned to the pottery studio. Mrs. Clark will learn the weaving trade, and you gentlemen will work in the wood shop.”
“I’ve never worked with wood,” Bragg admitted.
“Me either,” Marshall said.
“No problem, you’ll learn everything you need to know. Tomorrow is a free day; the four of you start work the next. You’ve been given a card to buy meals until you get paid. You can eat in the mess hall or cook your own food you can buy at the mercantile. Our little store isn’t as grand as what Haven Ranch has, but it fills our needs.
“Come along now, and I’ll show you to your cabins. All the people here are married or are families, so everyone has a private domicile. No bunkhouse. Grab your luggage and follow me.”
“Don’t forget Rusty!” Faith said.
“Never.” He snagged their two small bags and the cat carrier from the wagon bed. Marshall picked up his and Amity’s duffels. They’d come to Refuge with just the shirts on their backs, so they’d been given a few changes of hand-me-down and donated clothes.
Lucento pointed out the mercantile, an infirmary, the pottery and loom studios. “The woodworking shed is over there.” He pointed to a standalone away from the half-moon of buildings. “That bigger building is the mess hall.”
Then he led them to the ring of tiny identical cabins, white cubes topped by sloped roofs bearing solar panels. “Units are heated with herb cakes. Don’t be fooled by the name. There’s nary an herb in them,” he said.
“What are they made of, then?” Faith asked.
“Horniger dung. Horniger is one of the native animals,” Lucento replied.
“Six legs, big antlers?” Bragg asked.
“Yes.”
“We saw herds of them as we rode out here.”
Lucento stopped at the nearest cabin. “This one is yours, Mr. and Mrs. Clark.”
“Let’s check it out.” Marshall went inside.