AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“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…
