Jaing was sitting quietly outside the door. The sun was just setting, and he was currently leaning back on a wooden bench outside the door of the small house he and Amala had purchased a few months ago. Jaing had felt it would be a good idea to get her away from the base while she was pregnant, and a small farm right next to his family home was a good enough choice. Fi, being the new next door neighbor and unofficial keeper of the family home, visited often, helping Amala out when Jaing wasn’t around. Jaing suspected Fi enjoyed it and looked forward to becoming an uncle. When he wasn’t at their house, though, he was visiting Kyrie in the city. Jaing smiled slightly, happy that his brother, who he never thought would even be able to walk again, had found someone to love. For a dead man, Fi was doing pretty good for himself.
The sun began to sink below the tops of the trees, casting an orange and pink glow across the forests and fields. Jaing had his ears tuned into the house, alert for any kind of noise or movement from within. Amala was currently very, very pregnant, and Jaing was constantly fretting over her. At the moment though, he’d basically been chased out of the house to give her a bit of a break from an overprotective, overbearing husband. Jaing chuckled to himself; he supposed he could probably be a little less jumpy and fretful, but he couldn’t help it. He was going to be a father, and judging by how big Amala was now, he was going to be the father of multiples. He was just as nervous now as he was on the day he’d gotten married; only it seemed to have multiplied tenfold.
Prudii had commented that Jaing had ‘wasted no time’ in starting a family, much to the amusement of Madeline. Jaing decided he’d just ignore them and focus on his small, currently expanding family that was slowly taking over his entire life. Amala and his soon to be children were his world; nothing mattered more to him. The bench that he currently occupied had been made by him; he’d put it together one day after Amala had demanded he give her some breathing room. Reluctantly, he had agreed, and to keep his mind occupied, he worked out in the small barn, creating not only the bench, but a new table, some chairs, and multiple cradles as well. Jaing glanced at the barn; not for the first time, he wondered if they ought to buy a Tuskow or two, if only for the milk. Maybe some Roosken. A Cavallion.
He wouldn’t mind starting a farm after he was able to leave the army for good; it sounded like a good, honest living. Better than being a solider; but the life of a bounty hunter called to him, and Jaing knew he‘d never give it up for good. He was a Mandalorian, and though he wasn’t forced to become a bounty hunter, he knew he’d need some kind of thrill in life, and that was close enough. And the pay wasn’t bad either. But a farm sounded good too, and he knew Amala would enjoy that. Already, they had a small garden and fields out back full of fresh vegetables. Jaing put his worries aside to let Amala go out every morning to water the garden (And left the fields for himself to water); she seemed to enjoy gardening, and her love of flowers and plants was very apparent in the excellent care the vegetables and garden received.
In fact, Amala’s amazing ability with plants was becoming more and more apparent as their house was surrounded by flowers and small plants of all kinds. Inside, it was vibrant and tastefully decorated; Amala refused to allow it to be sparsely furnished, not after spending all that time in the empty, colorless room at the barracks. Flowers littered the rooms, and fresh herbs were grown in the kitchen windowsill. It reminded Jaing of Amala's house back in the Dead Coast. Jaing smiled content with his thoughts and his life so far. He didn’t know how much longer he might have to live, but he’d live whatever time he had left to his fullest. He leaned back, arm falling across the back of the bench as he closed his eyes and soaked up the last rays of the sun.
[53]