Alien's Reluctant Bride: A Sci-Fi Alien Romance (Mail Order Human Book 3) by Sue Lyndon, Sue Mercury Page B
Authors: Sue Lyndon, Sue Mercury
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supplies badly needed. Then they’d offered to protect the village.
The rest was history. Soon the Hanz gang became tyrants, and everyone was too afraid to fight back.
She’d heard similar groups terrorized other villages all across this land that had once been considered one of the greatest countries in the world. She knew little about the times before the wars and plagues ravaged Earth, but she knew things used to be better. She knew people hadn’t always been so desperate and driven by fear.
“Careful, Dad, you’ll hurt your back again.” She placed the water jug down on the porch, then drew her cloak around herself tighter and nodded at the house across the street. “Why not have Heath help you?”
Her father split another piece of wood before pausing to rest his weight on the ax. His grave expression told her something terrible had happened, and she held her breath, praying her instincts were wrong.
“Heath was found stabbed to death early this morning, sweetheart.”
“What?” Tears prickled in her eyes and her throat clogged with emotion. Not Heath. Please not Heath. He’d been one of the few good guys left, and he happened to be around her age. She’d secretly hoped he might become her husband one day. She’d even imagined what their children might look like. They were supposed to have two boys and a girl. God, Ally had even picked out their children’s names.
“I’m sorry, Ally. I just found out.” He cast a weary glance up and down the street. “You had best go inside. I’ll be in soon, and we’ll talk then.”
Blinking back tears, she sniffled and heaved the water jug up into her arms. She carried it inside and sat it down in the kitchen, her mind spinning and her heart aching with an intensity that stole her breath. Surely, she must be dreaming. This had to be a nightmare. Heath had no enemies. He had been the nicest man she’d known, aside from her father. He had been quick to help others and well-liked in the village. His parents were probably devastated.
She was devastated.
Ally sat at the table and wept into her hands. When she heard the front door open and footsteps approaching, she quickly wiped her face and rose under the semblance of preparing dinner, keeping her back to her father. With his health in rapid decline, she needed to be strong for him. She could cry later in the privacy of her bedroom.
“Ally?” called a feminine voice.
She gave a start and spun around.
Mrs. Fraser stood in the kitchen doorway, her eyes wide and her face pale. She held her newborn baby in her arms, bundled up in a thick pink blanket. The wind blew into the house, ruffling the curtains. Beyond the open door, a crowd gathered on the front porch and in the street.
“What’s going on?” she rushed from the kitchen and past Mrs. Fraser. Where was her father? Why was everyone standing around and giving her sorrowful looks?
The crowd parted when she stepped onto the porch. In the center of the gathered circle, her father lay motionless on the ground, his eyes open and staring into oblivion.
“Dad!” She knelt at his side, grabbed his shoulders, and gave him a harsh shake. “Dad, wake up!”
He didn’t move. He wasn’t breathing. She clutched him to her chest and cried, rocking him in her arms as if she could will him back to life by the sheer force of her grief. He couldn’t be dead, couldn’t be gone forever. Please God, no .
No no no .
Time slowed and everything around her faded. She heard murmurs and felt the cold wind blowing through the street. Her cloak had fallen off at some point, and someone placed it back over her shoulders. Gentle hands pried her from her father’s lifeless body, and she watched as Mr. Fraser ran a hand over her dad’s face, closing his eyes.
“Must have been his heart,” said a voice behind her.
Soft voices, gentle touches, the cold wind. She didn’t know what to do, didn’t know where to turn. What came next? Someone had placed an arm around her
The rest was history. Soon the Hanz gang became tyrants, and everyone was too afraid to fight back.
She’d heard similar groups terrorized other villages all across this land that had once been considered one of the greatest countries in the world. She knew little about the times before the wars and plagues ravaged Earth, but she knew things used to be better. She knew people hadn’t always been so desperate and driven by fear.
“Careful, Dad, you’ll hurt your back again.” She placed the water jug down on the porch, then drew her cloak around herself tighter and nodded at the house across the street. “Why not have Heath help you?”
Her father split another piece of wood before pausing to rest his weight on the ax. His grave expression told her something terrible had happened, and she held her breath, praying her instincts were wrong.
“Heath was found stabbed to death early this morning, sweetheart.”
“What?” Tears prickled in her eyes and her throat clogged with emotion. Not Heath. Please not Heath. He’d been one of the few good guys left, and he happened to be around her age. She’d secretly hoped he might become her husband one day. She’d even imagined what their children might look like. They were supposed to have two boys and a girl. God, Ally had even picked out their children’s names.
“I’m sorry, Ally. I just found out.” He cast a weary glance up and down the street. “You had best go inside. I’ll be in soon, and we’ll talk then.”
Blinking back tears, she sniffled and heaved the water jug up into her arms. She carried it inside and sat it down in the kitchen, her mind spinning and her heart aching with an intensity that stole her breath. Surely, she must be dreaming. This had to be a nightmare. Heath had no enemies. He had been the nicest man she’d known, aside from her father. He had been quick to help others and well-liked in the village. His parents were probably devastated.
She was devastated.
Ally sat at the table and wept into her hands. When she heard the front door open and footsteps approaching, she quickly wiped her face and rose under the semblance of preparing dinner, keeping her back to her father. With his health in rapid decline, she needed to be strong for him. She could cry later in the privacy of her bedroom.
“Ally?” called a feminine voice.
She gave a start and spun around.
Mrs. Fraser stood in the kitchen doorway, her eyes wide and her face pale. She held her newborn baby in her arms, bundled up in a thick pink blanket. The wind blew into the house, ruffling the curtains. Beyond the open door, a crowd gathered on the front porch and in the street.
“What’s going on?” she rushed from the kitchen and past Mrs. Fraser. Where was her father? Why was everyone standing around and giving her sorrowful looks?
The crowd parted when she stepped onto the porch. In the center of the gathered circle, her father lay motionless on the ground, his eyes open and staring into oblivion.
“Dad!” She knelt at his side, grabbed his shoulders, and gave him a harsh shake. “Dad, wake up!”
He didn’t move. He wasn’t breathing. She clutched him to her chest and cried, rocking him in her arms as if she could will him back to life by the sheer force of her grief. He couldn’t be dead, couldn’t be gone forever. Please God, no .
No no no .
Time slowed and everything around her faded. She heard murmurs and felt the cold wind blowing through the street. Her cloak had fallen off at some point, and someone placed it back over her shoulders. Gentle hands pried her from her father’s lifeless body, and she watched as Mr. Fraser ran a hand over her dad’s face, closing his eyes.
“Must have been his heart,” said a voice behind her.
Soft voices, gentle touches, the cold wind. She didn’t know what to do, didn’t know where to turn. What came next? Someone had placed an arm around her
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