Atria sat beside her mate at a well-loved kitchen table and tried to make sense of all the emotion in the air. There was anger, but there was also a simmering kind of old hurt and, far below that, a hope so fragile, she worried it would crumble with the slightest pressure.
In other words, it was more or less a typical family gathering.
Beside her, Kaz said nothing as he stared out the window, toward the various barns and fields that stretched out as far as she could see.
Trying to break some of the tension, she found herself asking, “What do you raise on the ranch?”
Frances, who Atria had learned was the Orclind’s equivalent of the town mayor, stood with her back to them at the kitchen counter. Using quick and efficient movements, she prepared what looked like a heap of pulled pork sandwiches. Speaking to the large serving plate, she said, “Roughly two thousand head of cattle, hundred goats, and fifty quarter horses.”
“And one extremely old donkey who thinks he’s a dog,” Tosun added.
He had gone out to check on something just after their arrival. Stepping into the kitchen, he shucked his canvas jacket and worn cowboy hat before he hung them on a heavily laden coat rack by a curio full of what looked like a silver orcish tea set. He brought with him the scent of dust, animals, and that particularbarnscent that was part manure and part hay, but not necessarily unpleasant.
Moving over to the wide porcelain sink, he began to wash his kohl-darkened hands with practiced movements. “Suhana was checking on the wild stallion,” he informed them all. “She’ll be hustling this way in a minute.”
Catching Atria’s questioning look, he explained, “There’s a herd that’s run through the area for generations. We like to let them run wild, especially since the road safety measures were installed, but sometimes we have to intervene when we notice something’s wrong. Couple weeks ago, Suhana and I were fixing a spot in the fence by the creek and found a stallion with his hoof split. He could barely limp away when we got close.”
He reached for a rag hanging off of a hook behind the sink and quickly dried his hands. “Normally we wouldn’t have been able to do much except put him out of his misery, but Suhana’s got a gift for these things, so we were able to get him back to the stable and call the farrier in.”
Kaz tensed. “Is it safe for her to be in a stable with a wild, injured horse?”
Tosun and Frances let out identical sounds of disregard. “The day an animal doesn’t take to our Sue is the day Loft comes down to kiss the dirt.”
At the far end of the well-loved ranch house, a door swung open and then shut again. Tosun moved around the kitchen, gathering glasses and a jug of what looked like iced tea from the refrigerator. He was ever-so-slightly bowlegged — just like Kaz. “That’ll be her now.”
Not a moment later, a young woman rushed into the kitchen, bringing with her the scent of cool air and animals, just as her father did.
Suhana Rione had inherited her mother’s height, but her father’s pale skin. She was rangy, all long legs and toned arms, and had a head of dark hair pulled back into an unraveling french braid.
She took one look around the kitchen before her eyes settled on the couple at the table. A huge, sparkling grin creased her cheeks and showed off elegant lower fangs.
“Kaz!”
He was barely out of his seat before Suhana threw herself at him. Atria sucked her lips between her teeth, fighting a smile, as her surly mate was hugged with arms and legs clad in dusty, hay-flecked jeans.
“Yes, yes,” he muttered, “it’s good to see you, Sue.”
“And Buba says you brought amate.”She leapt back from Kaz’s arms to give Atria a wide-eyed look. “Oh, and you’re sopretty.Kaz, are you sure she’s your mate? I find it hard to believe you’d get so lucky.”
In light of the way Frances had spoken to Kaz, Atria was dangerously close to taking the comment as an insult to him, but Suhana’s wrinkled nose and playful grin nixed that impulse almost immediately. If that weren’t enough, then her aura would have done it.
Suhana was all butburstingwith joy.
“Hi, Suhana.” Atria stood up to offer her hand. “I’m Atria. It’s nice to meet you.”
The young woman’s hand snapped out, quick as a rattlesnake, to clasp hers. Pumping up and down with great enthusiasm, she gushed, “Oh wow! I’m so happy to meet you, Atria! I’ve only ever met one witch before. Nelly lives over the hill on a little homestead right on the border of Clark’s ranch— Clark Wilson, I mean. You probably met him. Anyway, Nelly and I hang out and watch feeds together sometimes. She’s really nice, but it’s hard for her to be around people, so I can’t stay too long usually. Have you met her yet? I can introduce you if you haven’t.”
Frances set the platter of sandwiches down on the table with a smallthunk.“Nelly’s a greenwitch who helps with the crops and monitors our local protected flora. Nice enough, but has no idea how to survive out here. No one thought she’d last a month.” Eyeing her daughter’s still moving arm, she added, “Let her go, Sue. You’ll break the woman’s arm that way.”
“Oh, sorry!” Suhana dropped her hand with a sheepish look. “I’m just excited. It’s been a million years since I saw Kaz, and when he finally visits he brings a witch? I can’t wait to tell Nelly.”
“Come help your father with the glasses, Sue.”
“Sorry!” And then she was off again, her long legs moving with a fluid grace that spoke of a lifetime of activity. Atria watched her help her father and wondered just how the couple, advanced in age as they were, managed to raise a young woman with so much bottled up sunshine and energy in her veins.
Perhaps seeing her thoughtful look, Frances explained, “Sue’s our youngest. Bina, who lives in Boulder, is our middle child. They’re twenty years apart. Wouldn’t have done it that way, but little Sue was a surprise.”
Frances returned to the table with a smaller plate of food and set it down in front of Kaz’s spot. It was laden with pulled pork, cured sausage, and strips of what looked like dry aged beef. Not one bit of bread or a hint of a vegetable graced the chipped porcelain.
