“I’m teasing you, miss,” Aevrin said quietly, and bumped her shoulder gently with his elbow. “You’re doing just fine.”
The grocer was on the far side of town. They passed down the main road of Dawn Ridge, a few folk hollering greetings to Aevrin. When a man ambled out of a tavern and raised a hand at Aevrin, his stained apron hinting that he worked there, Aevrin reached over to grab the reins and tug them, his hand enclosing Cassia’s for a moment. He leaned off the cart for a short exchange of pleasantries, answered a few questions about his family’s wellbeing, then nodded to Cassia as the man walked away.
“Get ‘im going.”
“What, here?”
Aevrin blinked at her.
“Where else?”
“Folk will see,” she hissed. She watched him fight back another laugh.
“Then make sure you don’t give ‘em something to stare at,” he told her solemnly.
“Get on,” Cassia muttered, then looked pleadingly at Aevrin.
“Youcando this,” he told her, too quietly for anybody to hear. “You learned fast, actually. But if you’re really uncomfortable…”
She sighed heavily. She didn’t want Aevrin thinking she wasn’t capable of something so simple as driving acart. Sure, she had no future with him, but she atleastwanted him to remember her fondly when she left.
“Get on,” she said, firmly, and grinned openly when Stal lurched forward again down the road.
Aevrin clapped her lightly on the shoulder, then casually rolled his sleeves up his muscular forearms. Cassia stole a look out of the corner of her eye at the way his broad shoulders filled out his clothes, his curly hair tucked behind his ears, the ends nearly tickling the shirt’s collar. He had workman's hands, scarred and rough, and veins dancing over the chiseled slopes of his arms. She'd never known that body part could be quite so captivating to stare at, but then, she hadn't known many ranchers.
Cassia didn’t understand how Aevrin had any concerns over finding a wife. He must have courted a lot of girls, with his rugged good looks and his constant willingness to help. Why, he was practically a real-life heartthrob, grouchy demeanor or not. She didn’t even know how far he’d carried her to get her to help the night she almost died. All she knew was she’d finally stopped fighting when a torch light appeared and Aevrin Riveker’s face swam into view.
It wasn’t long before they’d reached the end of the short collection of shops and houses comprising the town. Aevrin guided her to pull into a dirt lot in front of a large building withgrocerhandpainted over the door in a flourishing white font. A handful of metal hitching posts sprouted two dozen feet from the entry, as if that much distance was necessary to protect the store from cattlefire.
The sky promised rain, but with winds like these any fire would spread fast. Like Aevrin’s father had predicted, rare storm clouds had rolled in all morning. Now the sky was downrightmoody, wind whipping around them. The chill in the air didn’t seem like it was going anywhere.
Aevrin jumped off and offered her a hand. She took it and hopped down, then turned to stare at the size of the building in front of them. They didn’t make stores that big in the city, where the narrow streets were overflowing as it was. She was used to visiting a dozen separate specialty markets in a single day to make purchases for the houses she served.
“It’s huge.Whyis it huge?”
“Is it?” Aevrin asked, his voice earnest.
“Yes!”
He scratched his neck thoughtfully.
“Plenty of ranches are closer to Dawn Ridge than anywhere else. Folk come here from way farther than we did to get what they need. Guess it’sgottabe big.” He walked to the cart’s bed and pulled out a small wooden hand-wagon. A set of folded cloth sacks and glass jars were already in the wagon, waiting to be filled.
Aevrin set off towards the double swinging doors, pulling the wagon. As she followed, Cassia found herself staring at him again. She really didn’t mean to, but she was developing something of a crush.
“Cassia?” Aevrin turned over his shoulder in the dirt cart lot. She quickly trotted to catch up as he paused to let her.
“Sorry. I got distracted.”
“What by?”
She could hardly answer honestly, considering he’d been her focus. In any case, they’d reached the swinging doors.
“Wondering if this place would have everything,” she joked as he pushed the left door open, holding it for her to walk through. “Looks like prettyslim pickings.”
“Yeah, they only have, like, ten kinds of flour,” Aevrin said dismissively, yanking the squeaky hand wagon in over the threshold. He tugged his hat off the moment he crossed inside, tossing it in the wagon.
“Amateurs,” Cassia sighed. “We’d better leave and go some place bigger.”
