on our doors, if someone hadn’t cried discrimination and threatened to mount a female hunting party after Cantor and Darak refused to take us.”
“You know I was right,” Kirsten said, her expression mulish. “How dare they decide we couldn’t come, just because we’re females?”
“That’s not what Cantor said, and you know it.”
“It’s what he meant.”
“What he said was he needed a well-trained team, skilled in close combat, to accompany the expedition. Honey, that’s not us.”
“We’ve plenty of skills!”
“Sure, I can pick any lock made this side of Omega Centauri, and you can flatten them with a single thigh.”
“I never realized you were so weight intolerant. You’re not exactly svelte yourself. Your ass is so large—”
“Did you hear that?” Martha halted in the center of the trail.
“What?”
“Shhh.” She pointed down the trail they’d just traveled. She’d heard something—like the crackle of a footstep, just beyond the curve of the trail.
Kirsten’s eyes widened and she flipped the safety off her gun with shaking hands.
Why’d she get Kirsten a gun? Lord, she was more likely to shoot her own foot than anything in this forest. Martha pointed to a pair of large bushes on the side of the trail and indicated that Kirsten should take up position behind them.
Kirsten gave her a blank stare, then quickly nodded her head and pushed between the bushes. She made so much noise while she was doing it, Martha decided to use her as the bait for whatever followed them. She stepped off the path and made her way back parallel to it, her progress stymied by vines that snagged her feet. When she crossed the trail again, she found no trace of a creature, man or beast.
“It’s clear, Kirsten,” she yelled. When Kirsten didn’t respond, Martha’s heart started to thud loudly in her ears. With her gun cocked and ready to fire, she ran to where she’d left the other woman, but when she rounded the curve, it wasn’t Kirsten she found.
Cantor stood in the middle of the path, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression dark as a thundercloud. He was so tall and solid he made her feel extremely small and vulnerable—and safe. Her heart ached just looking at him.
Although relieved beyond words to see him, she knew the fat was in the fire, now. Deciding a little bluster might save the tatters of her pride, she walked the rest of the way toward him, her chin held high. “Fancy meeting you here.”
Cantor’s eyes narrowed and Martha felt the first tingle of unease creep up her spine. As much as she wished she could fling her arms around his neck and hug him, her intuition told her to stay out of arm’s reach. He held out his hand, “Give me the gun.”
Martha considered resisting, but his expression was growing meaner by the minute. She slapped it in his palm. “Have you seen Kirsten?” she asked, ashamed of her cowardice when her voice trembled.
“Akron is seeing to Kirsten, now,” Cantor said, his words curt. He bent to the pack lying at his feet and shoved the gun into a pocket.
“She should like that,” Martha muttered under her breath. To him, she said, “Where are the rest of the men?”
He straightened, his face hard as granite. “They’re giving us some privacy.”
“Privacy for what?” By the look of him, it wasn’t the same thing that came immediately to her mind.
“I gave you and Kirsten specific orders, but you chose to disobey.”
“Oh, you think this has something to do with your little hunting party?” She tried to laugh, but nearly strangled on it. His stern expression didn’t change, so she tried a different tack—anything to distract him. “How did you know we were behind you, anyway?”
“We could hear your bitching for miles!”
Martha bristled and crossed her arms over her chest, mimicking his stance. “You know, I think there’s something to what Kirsten said earlier. You really are a Neanderthal—minus the unibrow! If a
“You know I was right,” Kirsten said, her expression mulish. “How dare they decide we couldn’t come, just because we’re females?”
“That’s not what Cantor said, and you know it.”
“It’s what he meant.”
“What he said was he needed a well-trained team, skilled in close combat, to accompany the expedition. Honey, that’s not us.”
“We’ve plenty of skills!”
“Sure, I can pick any lock made this side of Omega Centauri, and you can flatten them with a single thigh.”
“I never realized you were so weight intolerant. You’re not exactly svelte yourself. Your ass is so large—”
“Did you hear that?” Martha halted in the center of the trail.
“What?”
“Shhh.” She pointed down the trail they’d just traveled. She’d heard something—like the crackle of a footstep, just beyond the curve of the trail.
Kirsten’s eyes widened and she flipped the safety off her gun with shaking hands.
Why’d she get Kirsten a gun? Lord, she was more likely to shoot her own foot than anything in this forest. Martha pointed to a pair of large bushes on the side of the trail and indicated that Kirsten should take up position behind them.
Kirsten gave her a blank stare, then quickly nodded her head and pushed between the bushes. She made so much noise while she was doing it, Martha decided to use her as the bait for whatever followed them. She stepped off the path and made her way back parallel to it, her progress stymied by vines that snagged her feet. When she crossed the trail again, she found no trace of a creature, man or beast.
“It’s clear, Kirsten,” she yelled. When Kirsten didn’t respond, Martha’s heart started to thud loudly in her ears. With her gun cocked and ready to fire, she ran to where she’d left the other woman, but when she rounded the curve, it wasn’t Kirsten she found.
Cantor stood in the middle of the path, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression dark as a thundercloud. He was so tall and solid he made her feel extremely small and vulnerable—and safe. Her heart ached just looking at him.
Although relieved beyond words to see him, she knew the fat was in the fire, now. Deciding a little bluster might save the tatters of her pride, she walked the rest of the way toward him, her chin held high. “Fancy meeting you here.”
Cantor’s eyes narrowed and Martha felt the first tingle of unease creep up her spine. As much as she wished she could fling her arms around his neck and hug him, her intuition told her to stay out of arm’s reach. He held out his hand, “Give me the gun.”
Martha considered resisting, but his expression was growing meaner by the minute. She slapped it in his palm. “Have you seen Kirsten?” she asked, ashamed of her cowardice when her voice trembled.
“Akron is seeing to Kirsten, now,” Cantor said, his words curt. He bent to the pack lying at his feet and shoved the gun into a pocket.
“She should like that,” Martha muttered under her breath. To him, she said, “Where are the rest of the men?”
He straightened, his face hard as granite. “They’re giving us some privacy.”
“Privacy for what?” By the look of him, it wasn’t the same thing that came immediately to her mind.
“I gave you and Kirsten specific orders, but you chose to disobey.”
“Oh, you think this has something to do with your little hunting party?” She tried to laugh, but nearly strangled on it. His stern expression didn’t change, so she tried a different tack—anything to distract him. “How did you know we were behind you, anyway?”
“We could hear your bitching for miles!”
Martha bristled and crossed her arms over her chest, mimicking his stance. “You know, I think there’s something to what Kirsten said earlier. You really are a Neanderthal—minus the unibrow! If a
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