“Ready,” she said, with a nod.
They walked into the crowd together, his hand never leaving her back. The touch said mine without words, and she leaned into it. Let it warm her through.
The other women found her within minutes. Aida spotted her first, waving from near a food stall where the smell of grilled meat was thickest and made Juni’s stomach rumble. Then they were all there, just like they’d been on the shuttle, surrounding her with hugs and excited chatter.
“Well, look at you.” Aida’s grin was wide. “Someone’s glowing.”
Heat flooded Juni’s cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t.” Val’s lips quirked at the corner. “That’s why you can’t stop smiling and ogling your big ranchers ass.”
She couldn’t deny it. Couldn’t hide it either, apparently. So she just shrugged and let them tease, catching Goraath’s eye over their heads. He stood a few feet away, giving her space.
The festival pulled her in after that. Vendors called out as she passed, waving her over. The vegetable vendor from her first trip to town spotted her and grinned.
“You! The Christmas female!” He beckoned her closer. “Try this. It’s a family recipe.”
He pressed a cup of something steaming into her hands. The ceramic was almost too hot to hold. She wrapped her fingers around it, and let the heat seep into her frozen skin.
“What is it?”
“Spiced kasta. Good for cold nights.” He winked. “And warm mornings after.”
The first sip burned her tongue. Sweet and sharp, like cinnamon but not quite. She took another.
“This is amazing.”
“I know.” He was already turning to another customer. “Tell your male. He never buys the good stuff.”
The male who’d given her the scarf found her near the til’vaash display. He fell into step beside her, hands shoved in his pockets.
“So.” He cleared his throat. “These Earth traditions. For Chistmss?”
She bit back her smile at the way he butchered the word.
“What about them?”
“Goraath said you made fabric ropes. Could you teach someone? How to make them?”
She glanced at him. He wasn’t looking at her but his ears had gone darker at the tips.
“Errr.. yeah. I can. Planning to take up crafting?” she asked.
“No. Maybe.” He shifted his weight. “There’s talk of more females coming. And I thought… if I knew some of their traditions already…”
Oh. She smiled. He was preparing… just in case. Warmth spread through her chest.
“I could teach a class,” she said. “If people were interested.”
His head came up, hope in his eyes. “Yeah?”
“We could blend traditions. Old and new. Make something that belongs to everyone here.”
He nodded, trying to look casual and failing. “That would be good. Useful.”
“Useful,” she agreed, hiding her smile behind her cup.
She looked around at the square—at the crystal lights and eternal flames, the red fabric and silver herbs, the carved ornaments and til’vaash branches—and felt something shift in her chest.
