Amidst a Crowd of Stars by Megan Hart Page A

decontamination.”
    â€œYes. I’ve brought the truck. It’s outside.”
    The colony of Bosie couldn’t be called thriving, but it had grown quite a bit since she and Seth had arrived six rotations before. Seeing it now and imagining what it must look like through Keane’s eyes, pride and dismay warred inside her. To an outsider it didn’t look like much, but to one of the original hundred and forty colonists, it was a metropolis built of love and sweat.
    â€œYou’re seeing it at a great time,” she told him as she hefted the too-big-to-be-carried Hadassah onto her hip and walked toward the truck. “Just after the idvad , when everything’s in bloom. In a month, this will all be gone.”
    She indicated the flowers on vines covering most of the buildings.
    Keane nodded. “I’ve read everything I could find about Lujawed. The holos are amazing, but not even close to seeing it for real.”
    That earned him a smile. She settled the girls into their seats and harnesses, then climbed behind the wheel as Keane took the passenger seat.
    â€œIt makes it all worthwhile,” she admitted. “Knowing that for a few weeks out of the year, it’s all beautiful.”
    By the time they got from town to the ranch, Keane had fascinated two of her daughters with tales of his journey.
    Hadassah had always been the most stubborn one, the most spoiled and petted and cosseted, having essentially three mothers instead of only one. She glared at Keane the whole way home. She slammed the door in his face when they got to the house, and she stuck her tongue out him.
    Marrin sent her to her room for that last insult and apologized once more to Keane, who smiled and shrugged, holding out his hands.
    â€œIt takes time,” was all he said. “For everyone.”
    That first night, she offered him the choice of sides of the bed and lay stiff as iron when he climbed in beside her. Their contract stated there would be conjugal benefits included in exchange for his work. Seth was the last man who had touched her. Aside from her children, he was the last person to have touched her in any other than the most casual ways.
    She waited, eyes wide in the darkness, for the slide of a hand along her skin, for a mouth to seek hers. She listened for a shift in his breathing, for the rustle of clothes.
    â€œI’m sorry,” Keane said at last, his voice a richness dissolving into the darkness like honey dripped into tea. “I’m really tired from the journey. Would you mind if I just went to sleep?”
    â€œNo, of course not. Not at all.”
    And so he went to sleep, while she lay beside him for a long time, unable to sleep.
    He worked hard by her side, and cheerfully, doing whatever task she set for him. He was vocal in his appreciation of her skills in the field, and of the meals she cooked, and of the way she washed his clothes. He never failed to thank her no matter what she did for him.
    He won over Sarai and Aliya with his gentle manner, and he tolerated Hadassah’s constant sassiness with patience and bemusement. Day after day he made himself a part of their family. Night after night he slept beside her in their bed, and night after night he made no move to make love to her.
    â€œGood night, Marrin,” he always said, and her answer returned, “Good night, Keane.”
    Months passed and she found herself laughing with him over after-dinner coffee, and discussing the girls’ schooling, the crop, the repairs they needed to make to the house, and the sad state of their now mutual bank account. She found herself remembering how he liked his breakfast prepared and making sure his clothes were mended and clean. She discovered herself staring at his hair as it fell over his broad shoulders and down his muscled back, now tanned by the sun.
    She watched him when she thought he wasn’t watching her.
    When he’d said Seveerans aged differently than