Текст книги "Married to the alien cowboy"

Автор книги: Ursa Dox

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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

8SILAR

Icannot believe I tried to give her to Fallon.

There were few times I’d ever been truly grateful to the warden. This was one of them. He could have accepted my morning request. Right now, this very moment, Fallon could have been walking around the side of the building towards the door and the woman inside instead of me. I would never have known what I’d missed out on, what I’d lost, until I saw them together one day in the future and I was knocked just as senseless with wonder as I’d been a mere moment ago glimpsing her little face through the window.

What a face. An odd, pale, wide-eyed face, with rounded cheekbones and a soft pink mouth and eyes gone white ’round the edges. Whatever emotion she’d experienced, she’d felt it keenly. I knew my own eyes had been bright white in return.

I could not remember the last time my heart had pounded so hard. It was unlikely my eyes would return to their normal colour for the next two days at this rate. Maybe not even the next two cycles, the way things were going.

After opening the window, I’d nearly vaulted right through it just so that I could stand beside her, to be with her instead of being on the outside looking in. The only thing that had stopped me was the fact that the window was too small for me to fit, and getting stuck halfway through an opening on the warden’s wall, tail foolishly up in the air, was not an ideal way to begin a marriage ceremony.

So I’d closed it against the outside dust as quickly as I could and now I was nearly at the porch. Cherry’s human voice drifted out of the warden’s office, high and trilling, the words parsed by my inner ear translator.

“I’ll marry someone else,” she said, her words slicing through the air like a stunner’s beam and sealing me to the spot. “Anyone else. It doesn’t matter who.”

I mentally ran through our interaction, trying to figure out just where I’d already gone wrong. She’d seen me with my trousers off and had apparently decided that she would now marry someone else. I frowned down at my body, wondering what she’d expected. I did not know how I stacked up against most decent Zabrian males of status – I only had the other convicts and the warden to compare myself too – and I knew even less of what she’d prize in a human male. But if she wanted a human male, surely she could just go out and get one and would have no reason to seek a husband here.

So. Perhaps it was something else, then. Maybe, as the warden had said, I should have worn a shirt for the ceremony. Only, I’d read about human grooms and their specific wedding outfits and nothing I owned seemed anywhere near the descriptions. It had seemed better to come as I was – bare-chested as I’d been when I’d received the warden’s call – than to wear something that was not right. But maybe this had displeased her.

Or perhaps she had noticed my lack of covered wagon. Maybe she assumed I did not have one at all, therefore I was an unworthy male who could not provide for her. In all honesty, I was an unworthy male, and I still was not sure I could provide for her. Her bedroom was not even ready, after all. But I did have a blasted wagon, at least, and curse me to Zabria and back for not bringing it with me now!

It was odd how quickly things could change. This morning, in my panic, I had not wanted her. Now, she did not want me, and I…

I now found myself entirely unwilling to lose her. The thought of her flitting off to marry Fallon or one of the others had my eyes burning so white I could see the glow of them reflected on the porch as I stepped up onto it.

There was nothing for it. I’d just have to go in there, find out what I’d done wrong, and somehow try to convince them both that I could fix it.

The warden stepped aside to let me pass, and he was frowning, but it did not exactly seem that his frown was directed at me. If anything, he looked uncertain about something.

“Silar,” he snapped, exasperation or maybe confusion making a quick bit of white zip through his eyes, “Do you still wish to marry Cherry Dawson?”

Was this about earlier? When I’d told him to give her to Fallon? I’d shown up here to claim her, hadn’t I? Surely that was answer enough.

I allowed myself a glance over at Cherry. Her eyes looked even larger now, and shiny. I hadn’t noticed the shininess before. Still white, but only at the edges, not in the centre. Her small hands were clenched into fists together and she pressed them what looked to be quite hard against her abdomen. I wondered if it hurt to press that hard. Or, alternatively, if something inside was hurting and that was why she was pressing. What did one even do for a human with a stomach ailment? My tail tightened around its hook.

“Silar,” growled the warden. “Now is not the time for your usual silence. I need to hear it verbally. Do you consent to this marriage?”

At this point I’d consent to a tail amputation if it meant I got to keep her. Not that I had a single cursed clue what it was I’d even do with her. Probably start by making her something for her stomach, which she seemed to be clutching at even harder now while she awaited my answer.

“Yes,” I rasped, my voice sounding oddly loud, booming in the space. “As long as she also… That is… Do you…” She tensed as I addressed her. “Do you also consent? Now that you’ve seen me… Will you still have me?”

She looked at me a moment and then moved her head rapidly up and down. I guessed I hadn’t read far enough in my human manual because the gesture meant absolutely nothing to me. I could only stare at her helplessly, guts twisting, because surely that was this tiny creature’s way of saying no.

She only just got here. She’s only just seen me. I haven’t even gotten to show her my wagon yet. And now-

“Yes! I consent! I’m in if you’re in.”

Oh.

That was… good? She consented. And she was in… something. What she was “in” was any man’s guess.

“Thank you!” she said and made a high, watery sound. A laugh? “Is it weird to say, ‘thank you?’ I’m just… I’m very grateful. And happy to be here. I promise I will be the best wife ever, Silar! I’ll work very hard and-”

I stared in silent confusion at this little female rattling off all the ways she planned to make my life better, as if she somehow owed me anything. As if she had to earn her place here, such a pure little thing among the rejected males of our Empire.

A pretty little thing, paired up with a male like me. A male who’d gotten another Zabrian’s life’s blood beneath his claws before he’d even reached adulthood.

My gaze roved over her face as she spoke. She seemed to have endless things to say, which I supposed was just as well, because I had very few. I wondered if she really was pretty, or if it had simply been so long since I’d seen a female that, starved of beauty, I had no real standards left to speak of. Did it even matter? She was here, for some unknown reason she was willing to have me, and she was the strangest, prettiest thing I could ever recall having seen.

She finally ran out of things to say and clamped her mouth shut. It seemed like she was waiting for a response, though I could not possibly fathom what she wanted to hear in the wake of all the enthusiastic vows she’d just made. I hesitated, then simply said, “Alright,” and hoped that was enough.

Perhaps it was, because she did that head movement again and she was no longer holding her stomach like it hurt. I probably should have used that moment to make grand, sweeping statements right back at her. To tell her that I would be a good husband in return. But I did not yet know how to do that and I had never been a very good liar. So I latched on to the first true thing I felt I could respond with. “I will work hard, too.”

I didn’t know how to be a husband to a human. But I knew how to work.

That much, I could promise.

9CHERRY

The ceremony was quick, which I was grateful for, because I was still paranoid that at any moment Silar would come to his senses and call the whole thing off. I watched him from the side as the warden, authorized to preside over Zabrian wedding ceremonies, read from his tablet. But Silar gave me nothing, his face hard and emotionless in profile, his white eyes fixed on a point on the wood-plank wall behind the warden.

“And now, you twist your tails to… Oh.” Warden Tenn glanced at me, then placed his tablet down on the wooden desk he stood behind. “Right. You don’t have a tail. Well. That’s it, then. In the eyes of the Zabrian Empire, you are now married.”

“What was I supposed to do with a tail?” I asked, feeling like I’d missed out on some vital Zabrian custom.

“Zabrians twist their tails together to represent the entwining of their future lives,” Warden Tenn explained. “But it’s not necessary to the legal aspects of the marriage. The ceremony is complete enough.”

“We could kiss,” I said with a laugh, half nervous, half relieved. “That’s what humans do.”

Warden Tenn cocked his head, and Silar looked at me for the first time since the ceremony had started.

“What’s ‘kiss?’” my new husband asked.

My mouth fell open and I hurried to snap it shut.

“It’s… You… You put your mouth… You know what? Never mind,” I blustered, face on fire.

“If it is important, he will do it,” the warden growled warningly. “Silar. Step up and do the human kiss thing.”

“Oh, it’s fine. Trust me,” I said, waving my hands to dispel the idea. I didn’t even know why I’d brought it up in the first place. This whole day had already been awkward as hell. Why the need to teach my new alien husband how to kiss on top of all that? Especially in front of the serious-faced warden.

But Silar was peering at me now from beneath the brim of his hat, a muscle leaping in the side of his jaw.

“If you tell me what it is, I can try to do it,” he said, uncertainty and grim determination warring on his face. It was as if he expected a kiss to be something extremely difficult or unpleasant. Like loading haybales or mucking stalls or something. Guess I gotta give him credit for being willing to try…

“I also have a wagon,” he added in a sudden rush. “Just… So you know.”

“Oh! Well… Good! I love wagons!”

I’d never been on a wagon in my entire fucking life.

I licked my lips, my gaze darting from Silar to the warden. They both stood there, obviously waiting for something.

Something like me kissing my husband.

Ah. Fuck it. I’d brought this on myself. Might as well just get it over with.

“Could you, ah, bend down a little?” I crooked my finger.

Silar looked at my finger, at me, then bent stiffly at the waist.

“Ok. Good enough,” I said with a nod. Holy Terra, the man really was huge. Even leaning down like he was, I’d still have to rise up on the balls of my feet. I did so, but I instantly wobbled, and my hands shot forward to brace myself on Silar. My fingers settled on his shoulders.

Shirtless as he was, I could see with utmost clarity the way every single muscle in his arms, chest, and abdomen grew harrowingly taut at the touch. I felt his shoulders tighten beneath my fingers. Saw the way his throat bobbed. Heard the catch of his breath. His eyes seemed even brighter than before. How was that possible?

He looks so uncomfortable.

I’d get it done quick. Just a little peck. In and out and we’d never have to speak of this again.

I wetted my lips with my tongue, drawing Silar’s white gaze to my mouth. Before I lost my nerve, I darted in beneath his hat and pressed my mouth softly to his.

My eyes were scrunched up, so I didn’t see it happen, but I felt it. The spasm that rocked his frame, like I’d touched him with a hissing live wire. His shoulders jolted under my hands, his breath puffing out in a sharp exhale against my cheek. Worried I’d upset my new husband, I quickly released him and stepped back, heart going batty in my chest.

An apology was on the tip of my tongue, but even if I’d said it, Silar wouldn’t have heard it. Just like before, when he’d closed the window on me and walked away without a word, he spun on his heel and strode right out the door.

“What… Where…?” I threw my hands up and let them fall. “Is he always so abrupt?”

“Yes,” the warden replied simply. He leaned his hip against his desk, staring out the open door after my runaway husband. “That’s quite the custom you’ve got there.”

“You’re the one who insisted we do it!” I cried. “Do you think I’ve upset him?”

Maybe Zabrians had super sensitive mouths or something. Maybe I’d hurt him. Or done something terribly rude and offended him.

“Upset him? Silar? Empire, no,” the warden said, looking both surprised and amused. “You just knocked that boy’s boots off, is all. He’s likely gone to sort himself out before the ride home.”

“Why does that not make me feel any better?” I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose and shaking my head.

“Don’t trouble yourself over it,” the warden assured me, standing straight once more. “Silar is as solid as they come. Doesn’t open his mouth much, but he also doesn’t scare easy. Unlike some of the other fools I could name around here, he hasn’t got too much of a temper and he’s not overly sensitive. If he needs some space, he’ll just… do that.” He gestured at the open door with his tail.

“Alright,” I said, still not entirely convinced. But maybe the warden was right. Silar had left the room, but he didn’t seem to be running away on his horse without me, at least.

But he hadn’t come back yet, either. So what the hell was he doing?

The sound of the tap squeaking, followed by water running, caught my ear. Instead of going back to the window, this time I went outside, hurrying down off of the porch and around the side of the house.

The horse creature looked up, nostrils flaring at my arrival. I stopped short, giving it some room, not sure if it was likely to kick me or bite me or do any other weird alien horse things to my squishy, defenseless human body. I turned my attention from the animal to my husband.

Husband. I have a husband.

A husband who was filling up the bucket with fresh water, his back to me. I watched him, hands on my hips, sun soaking into my shirt, trying to figure out just what the hell he was up to.

When the bucket was full, Silar turned off the tap and then removed his hat and set it on the ground. Then, he grasped the big bucket by its sides, raised it over his head…

And turned it upside down.

The contents of the bucket dumped down upon him in a colossal, crashing wave. Unlike his shower before, he hadn’t bothered to remove his pants or boots. He stood, every bit of him but his hat soaked and dripping, the empty bucket still held high above his head. He would have been utterly still if it weren’t for the heaving of his back indicating harsh and rapid breathing.

“Cooled yourself off there, Silar?”

I whipped around to find the warden watching us both, my bag in his hands.

The sound of a bucket thudding to the sodden dust of the ground drew my gaze back to Silar who was now turning around to face us.

Silar gave an unintelligible grunt in response. He grasped his hat from the ground and settled it on his soaked head. He didn’t bother to rub or shake any of the water off his body. He just roughly mopped at his face with a big hand. When he let it fall, I gasped.

“Your eyes!” I breathed, pointing at his face before I could remember that it was considered rude, at least among humans.

Silar blinked his most definitely not white eyes. Before, they’d been so glowing and bright that it had just been one uniform whiteness across his gaze. Now, there was no white to be seen. His eyes were a deep, midnight blue, with veins of turquoise branching brightly outwards, like a bird’s eye view of tree branches or spokes on a wheel, splitting out from the centre.

“I told you. He was sorting himself out,” the warden said, crossing over to Silar to hand him my bag. Then, more quietly, just to Silar this time, he added, “You have one human month – thirty days – to keep her. After that, she can choose to leave you if she so wishes. Do not ruin this, you white-eyed fool.”

I felt oddly defensive of my new husband. This warden sure was bossy. And kind of rude. Just what exactly was his role here, anyway? Was he democratically elected? Because he was acting more like an overbearing babysitter than a government official who worked for the very man he seemed so keen on ordering around.

“One month for both of us,” I said loudly. “Right? After thirty days, Silar could choose not to be married to me, either.”

They both turned to gawk at me like I was stupid. Or crazy. Or both. And maybe I was, because I was supposed to be doing everything in my power to stay here and stay safe, not remind Silar that he could toss me out the moment our first month was up if he wanted.

But he could. Right?

I frowned. Why were they staring at me like that? Like I was the only chance at happiness Silar was ever going to get and if he lost me, he’d lose everything? Like he was some kind of charity case who’d be crazy to let me go?

I wasn’t exactly a prize, here. I was a boring, average human with a “halfway-decent” face, debt to my name, and a target on my back. Silar was a big, strong, golden-skinned cowboy with livestock and a house and a career. And a wagon! Couldn’t forget the wagon. He could probably do a hell of a lot better than me.

So why did it look like neither he nor the warden thought so?

This place is kind of weird…

But I guessed it was my place now, too. And I was going to make the most of it.

Starting with convincing my new husband to keep me around.

“Right,” I said, smiling brightly and squelching through the new puddle Silar had just created. “Now what? Are we heading… Heading home?”

The word got stuck in my throat. I hadn’t had a home since Mama had died. That empty apartment with the kicked-in door certainly didn’t count anymore.

“Yes,” Silar grunted. He hoisted my heavy bag with its cast iron contents easily, not with his hands, but with his tail. His tail had to be incredibly strong – especially considering how long and thin it was – to lift my bag up with so little apparent effort. He held it in place against the side of the saddle on his big mount, fingers flying as he tied it securely with leathery-looking twine, his forearms flexing and ribbed with veins.

“Safe riding,” the warden called as he walked back to the building, leaving us alone.

Feeling incredibly awkward, I aimed myself at the horse-thing.

“Hello,” I said quietly to it. “My name’s Cherry.” I lifted a hand, then drew it back. “Should I… Should I do something? Let it sniff me? Or pet it?”

Silar shoved a hand into a damp pocket and fished out a hard, round thing. Something like a seed or a nut – bright yellow.

“Here. Give him this.” He plonked the small, oval-shaped thing into my palm.

“Here, boy,” I crooned, trying not to look or sound nervous as I offered up my hand. What if it was one of those animals that could smell fear? Was that even a real thing?

But the animal seemed delighted at my gift. It whinnied and came closer, nosing down at my palm.

“Ha! I’m a natural!” I said, relieved at the animal’s acceptance of me. It may have been acceptance bought with a bribe, but who cared?

“Do you have shuldu where you come from?”

“Shuldu? Is that what he’s called?”

“He is called Tarion.”

“Hello, Tarion. And no, not on Terratribe I. We had something similar called ‘horses’ on Old-Earth. They may still have some on Terratribe II. I’m not sure. Oh!” I yelped, then tried to stifle shaky giggles as Tarion’s lips dragged over my palm, sucking the treat up between his teeth. “That tickles!”

“Does it?” I would have thought Silar was making some sort of weird joke if it weren’t for his blankly confused stare.

“Yes!” I said with another laugh, rubbing my damp and tingly palm on the side of my leg.

“You must have very sensitive hands.” He stared, and I fought the urge to shove them behind my back. They probably looked so small and weak to him.

One month. He’s gotta keep me for one month, no matter how useless my stupid human hands look.

He wasn’t looking at my hands anymore now, but his own, raised palm-up in the sun. An impressive array of callouses had thickened the skin there.

“Hey, I used to do twelve-hour shifts in a shuttle engine factory. I’ve got some callouses, too,” I said, raising my hands and brandishing my palms and fingers before him as if pressing hard on an invisible wall between us. “Although, I did usually wear protective gloves at the factory. But I can work hard.” Not to mention the fact I can swing a cast iron pan like the best of them…

Silar didn’t respond to that, and I fretted that he wasn’t convinced, but I was saved from trying to fill the awkward silence by the sudden bump of a soft nose against my cheek. I squawked, grinning ear to ear, instinctively reaching up to pat Tarion’s neck. His hide was lovely to the touch, velvety and so warm.

“He likes you,” Silar observed.

Do you?

I almost said it out loud. But, rather pathetically, I wasn’t sure I could handle his truthful answer right now. And though he didn’t say much, Silar struck me as a cuttingly honest sort of person.

I can make him like me in a month. I hope.

“Well, that’s good,” I said, giving Tarion another pat, which was answered with a friendly, animal chortle. “So he’ll be alright with me riding him, then? Although, I should tell you that I don’t exactly have experience with this sort of thing.”

I glanced at the saddle, which seemed intimidatingly high off the ground.

Except it suddenly wasn’t so high. Because I was being lifted.

I gasped when strong hands settled around my waist. Strong warm hands. Silar boosted me as easily as he might lift a child, setting me down onto the saddle.

“Don’t need experience,” he said gruffly, immediately hoisting himself up onto Tarion’s back behind me. He reached around me from behind, grasping at brown reins, his arms enclosing me in an intimate circle “You’ve got me.”

“Oh. Alright,” I said, disoriented by his sudden nearness. I grabbed at a raised sort of ridge on the front of the saddle for stability. The last thing I needed right now was to fall off this giant shuldu and break my neck. Not that that would be possible now, with Silar’s thick, muscled arms around me, his chest warm and solid at my back.

Silar is as solid as they come.

I was beginning to think that the warden was right about that. I barely knew the man I’d married, but a strangely sudden feeling of tremulous comfort bloomed inside me. For the first time since I’d missed my loan payment, I felt…

Safe.

Which was crazy, considering I was about to go home with an alien male I’d only just met. But there it was. I felt so fucking safe I almost could have cried.

I gave a low laugh instead, shading my eyes against mid-day sun.

“I should have brought a hat!” I said, thinking with some longing of all the provisions I would have received from the program if I’d left on time with the others. I didn’t have a jacket, either, and I knew it would get cold here at night.

Oh well. I’d figure it out, even though I wasn’t much of a seamstress. I’d fixed a few buttons and split seams on my factory uniforms, but that was the extent of my skills. Maybe Silar had a blanket I could turn into a jacket or something.

Hmm. That’d probably be pushing it. A jacket might be beyond me.

Maybe a poncho, then. A nice, cozy poncho with ugly, uneven seams. I’d probably look goofy as all get-out, but Silar didn’t strike me as the sartorial type. And now that I thought about it, weren’t ponchos kind of a classic cowboy thing, at least among humans? I was fairly certain I remembered the image of a man in a hat wearing something similar in one of the films I’d watched with Mama. So maybe I wouldn’t look that silly. Maybe I’d –

My thoughts were deadened by a softly thudding darkness all around me. I jerked back, blinking hard, panic rising and telling me I’d just gone instantaneously blind.

Of course, I hadn’t. But it felt that way for a moment.

A heavy but deftly gentle hand fell to the top of my head, adjusting the hat I now wore until the brim was high enough that I could see again. Cautiously, I reached up, the tips of my fingers brushing the edge of the sun-warmed garment. The hat was far too big for me, but it cast enough shade that I was no longer in danger of getting a wicked sunburn on the way back and I didn’t have to squint.

I touched the brim of the hat again, stroking as if it were a living thing to be petted, suddenly fighting tears. It was such a small act. For Silar, he was probably just tossing a hat down on his whiny, unprepared wife so he didn’t have to hear her complain about the sun the whole way back.

But for me…

For me, it was the first time anyone had done anything even remotely caring for me since Mama had died. I didn’t realize how badly I had needed it.

Such a simple thing. A hat artlessly plonked down on top of my head. And now I was in danger of breaking down weeping.

Silar would think I was fucking certifiable, if he didn’t already.

With what felt like an astronomically mighty show of will, I inhaled deeply through my burning nose and blinked my tears away. When I was pretty sure my voice wouldn’t crack or falter, I said, “Thank you.” And then, letting my fingers fall away from the brim of the hat that had just about broken my little human heart, I said, “But what about you?”

He’d been wearing a hat. Same with the warden. I doubted it was for fashion’s sake. They obviously needed them out here as much as I did.

“Don’t worry about me,” came Silar’s gruff reply.

I chuckled softly. “Isn’t that what wives are for?”

“Is it?” He sounded entirely bewildered by that. I’d been mostly joking, but the surprised confusion in his response made me wonder…

Just why, exactly, had Silar participated in this mail-order-bride program? What was he looking for?

What did he want from me?

It wasn’t an alarming question. I didn’t feel afraid. Merely curious about this quiet, solid, blunt alien male who seemed so entirely and deeply unsentimental that I couldn’t imagine him even wanting a wife in the first place, at least not for romantic reasons.

Maybe he just needed a farmhand. But he could have had his pick of stronger alien races with citizens who’d be more than happy to come work in a place like this in return for food and lodging on a safe world.

Sex, then? But he’d bolted like a spooked animal when I’d kissed him. He’d barely touched me apart from getting me up on Tarion’s back. Even now, it seemed like he was putting some space between us. He sat up perfectly straight so his chest no longer brushed my back and he held the reins loose enough that his arms weren’t forming such a tight circle around me anymore. Experimentally, I leaned back in the saddle only for him to tense up and shift away.

I fixed my posture so the poor guy wasn’t stuck leaning back at such an awkward angle, mulling it over and getting nowhere. As Silar urged Tarion into a slow trot, steering us into a wide, dusty road, I gave up on trying to figure it out. Whatever his reasons, he’d married me. I was safe. At least for the next month.

And I sure as hell wasn’t about to look this gift shuldu in the mouth.