Wormhole (The Rho Agenda #3)(121)
“So they moved to New Zealand?”
“They wanted to get closer to the earth.”
James laughed. “Well, they’ll get their wish, if I know the Wagner farm. I give them three months.”
James slowed, turning off State Highway 6 onto a dirt road that led to the Wagner farmhouse. Sitting on four hundred acres of good farmland that stretched along the south side of the Pelorus River, the two-story timber house stood near an ancient-looking wooden barn, both badly in need of repair.
They’d just gotten out of the car when Amanda Blake stepped out onto the front porch and waved. James had to admit that she was a real looker, even in her dirty jeans and T-shirt, her face smudged with dirt.
“Excuse my looks. I’d have cleaned up if I’d known company was coming.”
“Nonsense,” Lilly said. “I knew you’d be in fix-up mode after all the hardware you two bought down in Havelock yesterday. The ladies and I thought you and Robert could use a couple of good meals that you didn’t have to prepare.”
Amanda’s smile lit her face. “Oh, that’s so nice. Here, let me help you with one of those baskets. Wow, these pies smell wonderful. And baked ham? Robert’s going to think you’re his fairy godmothers.”
Following Amanda into the kitchen, they had just set the baskets on the counter when Robert Blake walked through the door. Also in jeans and a T-shirt, he was even dirtier than his wife. But as James shook Robert’s hand, feeling the strength in the young man’s iron grip, seeing his easy grin, he decided his Lilly was right after all.
Throughout the introductions and the shared lunch, he found himself genuinely enjoying their company. When the meal finally ended and they stepped out on the porch to say their good-byes, James actually regretted that the visit had come to an end.
As he slid into the driver’s seat, he felt Lilly nudge his arm with her elbow.
“Well, James, you’ve met the Blakes. What do you think now?”
Starting the engine, he stuck his right arm out the window and waved.
“A vigorous young couple.”
Lilly’s laughter trailed behind them as they turned out of the driveway and onto State Highway 6 for the short drive back to Canvastown.
On the old farmhouse porch, Mark’s arms encircled Heather’s waist from behind, his lips softly brushing her neck.
“You know, after all that eating, I’m feeling a bit tired.”
Heather turned to face him, her arms tracing a path up around his neck. “Tired, huh?”
A wicked grin spread across Mark’s face.
“Nothing a little roll in the hay couldn’t cure.”
She raised her lips to his, then pulled back.
“What do you say we skip the hay?”
Sweeping her up in his arms, Mark carried his dangerous little wife across the threshold into their new home.
The farm work would wait for the morrow.
I want to thank Alan Werner for brainstorming this story with me, putting in many long hours as we explored the twists and turns that brought it to this conclusion. I also want to express my thanks to my agent, Paul Lucas, and to the 47North Author Team who worked hard to help me bring this work to a broader audience. My fabulous editor, the talented Jeff VanderMeer, helped me put the finishing touches on all three of the Rho Agenda novels and his expert touch is evident throughout. Finally, I want to thank my wife, Carol, whose love, support, and encouragement make life worth living.
Photograph ? 2008
Richard Phillips was born in Roswell, New Mexico, in 1956. He graduated from the United States Military Academy at West Point in 1979 and qualified as an Army Ranger, going on to serve as an officer in the US Army. He earned a master’s degree in physics from Naval Postgraduate School, completing his thesis work at Los Alamos National Laboratory. After working for three years as a research associate at Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory, he returned to the army to complete his tour of duty. Today he lives in Phoenix, Arizona, with his wife, Carol, dividing his time between developing simulation software for the US military and writing science fiction.