“Those cows went somewhere. You didn’t look close enough,” Aevrin told him.
“We’ve checked the whole thing over two times now,” Mavek said with a full mouth. “Can’t keep wasting time on it when we’re still in weaning season.”
“Rustlers,” their father interrupted sourly. “Cousin Ort said five head up and vanished last Tuesday from his land.”
“Dragons are flaming mad about it too,” Mavek added. “Hard to get ‘em to split the calves out when all they want to do is patrol. The moreweworry, the moretheyworry.”
“Now, I won’t have any wild speculation,” Gramma Prisca informed them sternly. “It’s just as likely those cattle fell into some crevasse or got washed down the river. Odds of any rustlers making off with cattle from dragon-guarded herds are mighty slim, and you know it.”
“Way I see it, there’s too much trouble coming around here lately,” Sath said darkly. “I don’t like it. Dawn Ridge’s always been a peaceful little bit of paradise.” That wasn’t how most people would describe it, Aevrin knew, but the burning fields, wild storms and deadly monsters had never bothered his father. “Now we got new neighbors we don’t know…”
Aevrin saw Cassia gulp and duck her head.
“What neighbors?” Mavek asked. “Mathersons didn’t sell their ranch.”
“We don’t have new neighbors,” Gramma Prisca said calmly. “He’s talking out his ass, as usual.”
“Yeah, we damned do. On the other side of the mountain.” Sathuel gestured with his spoon.
“That’s not neighbors, that’s a whole distance,” Gramma Prisca said.
“You know he’s not talking about you,” Aevrin told Cassia quietly, as the conversation kept roaring around them. “He’s been complaining ‘bout changes for the last dozen years. And it’s new settlers coming in and old ranchers packing up east he’s worried about, not you.”
“I understand,” Cassia said back, just as quietly. “Nobody really likes it when their home changes, do they?”
She was looking straight at him. She had such pretty eyes, like pure honey. And their shoulders were almost touching. He could feel the warmth coming off her skin. For a moment Aevrin forgot about the loud conversation the rest of his family was carrying on.
She had a tiny freckle on her jaw. He stared at it, then at the plump curve of her lips. He gripped his utensils tighter and fought his way back to her eyes. It was rare to have dinner with a woman he hadn’t known his whole life.That, he told himself, was the only reason his body felt flushed right now, his abdomen tight. There was nothing romantic about a woman in trouble with a bruised face. And he certainly wasn’t shifting his body towards her to show off his broad shoulders. It was just manners, facing her while they talked.
“I dunno. It’s exciting, sometimes,” he told her, his voice unaccountably low. “Like, y’know, having new people to meet.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s not so bad,” she agreed softly, and looked up at him through her eyelashes. Aevrin drew a deep breath through his nose, chest filling.
“You ready to join us, or are you packing up to move into the coop?” Gramma Prisca asked loudly as Sorven barreled through one of the doorways and grabbed the last empty bowl on the table. He was the youngest of them, freshly eighteen. He’d been shooting up for the past few years and had yet to fill out his frame, all bones and lankiness and flopping curls that nearly covered his eyes.
“I think I’m gonna look into paying Weaver for some coaching,” Sorven said in an excited rush, dumping two big globs of stew into his bowl and grabbing a piece of millet-bread on the way to the empty chair next to Mavek.
“What, that washed up fella who used to do all those exhibitions?” Mavek asked. Under the table, he hooked his foot around Sorven’s chair; when the youth tried to pull it out, it didn’t budge. Mavek grinned and let go when Gramma Prisca snapped her fingers at him.
“Cobrid’s still a juvenile,” their father informed Sorven as the youngest Riveker landed into his chair. “Just let that dragon be.”
“I know, pa, but have you seen how good she moves? She’samazing. Perfect build. She could definitely win some money on races. She’ll be flying any day now.”
“This is a cattle farm,” Mavek informed him.
They were talking so loudly Aevrin didn’t know how to slip back into a private conversation with just Cassia. But he knew he wanted to. He felt faintly embarrassed of his brothers all of a sudden. And inexplicably jealous of them, too. Cassia was watching Mavek and Sorven bicker with wide eyes. He would not have minded if they suddenly gotcalled away to other tasks.
“Yeah, well, I bet we could even open up the north fields again; she can watch ‘em. In ten years she’ll be the best dragon in the territory,” Sorven said.
“‘Scuse me, second best,” Mavek shot back proudly before anybody else could get a word in.
“Sorven Riveker,” Gramma Prisca interrupted. “I know you weren’t raised to ignore a lady at your table.”
“Sorry, hi, nice to meetcha,” Sorven said with a full mouth.
“Hello,” Cassia said. She looked like she was fighting a smile. Aevrin stared at her upturned lips for a moment before turning to glare at his brothers.
“Anyways, look, I was thinking through the numbers,” Sorven said. He leaned forward excitedly in his chair and spread his hands out in front of him. “His coaching fees’ a couple thousand splendors…”
