“Good,” he drawled. “See you with the food tonight.” As it turned out, I didnotsee him with the food later. He sent someone else: a young girl with eyes the size of saucers and a mouth that wouldn’t stand still. She could only tell me that my cousin had abruptly left after seeing a woman in his bar, but nothing else. Since Avertom never left the Laughing Nia, not even to his brother’s or father’s care, that made no sense. It would worry me, but I had my true mate to seduce tonight with food, wine, and candles, exactly according to her Valentine traditions. Avertom could take care of himself, and if he’d left, it was probably for something very important.
I shook off the suspicion that he’d sensed something was up, and that the woman the girl couldn’t describe, other than that she dressed well, was none other than Koratalin. Why I kept thinking that was who might have taken an interest in me and Mariska’s farm, I wasn’t sure, but I was worried it was true.
I knocked on her door with the satchel of food because I didn’t want to presume I could just barge in. There weren’t any lightson yet, but she had to be in there—I hadn’t seen her for a few hours. She’d cleared and winter-prepped her vegetable patch and spent an hour sanding the wood of the porch railings so they could be painted. Her bucket of tools was still standing by the front door, as if she’d left it there only moments ago and was going to come back to it soon.
There was no answer, so I went around the house to the kitchen door and peered inside. I had neglected to tell her I’d take care of dinner tonight. I had assumed—perhaps incorrectly—that she knew that, as it was a Valentine tradition for the male to provide that day. There was a pink, heart-shaped decoration on the back door, possibly cut out of paper and decorated with swirls and curls with a pencil. That hadn’t been there that morning. The kitchen, however, appeared to be empty. My gift had been tucked away, the kitchen straightened, and flowers from the living room had been brought in here to decorate the table.
So shehadbeen preparing for a dinner together, but where was she now? In her bedroom? Getting dressed? I had read in Danitalin’s instructions that it was customary to dress up neatly for such a dinner. For that reason, I had hung out my best shirt and cleaned my leather pants earlier.
Worry won out, so I unlocked the door and went inside. The food would stay warm in the special containers until we needed it, so I placed the bag on the counter and headed deeper into her home. “Mariska?” I called out cautiously, but my senses told me she wasn’t here. The house was empty. So, where could she have gone? Did that crimelord go after her when my back was turned? How? I hadn’t heard a single beep from my perimeter alerts.
I didn’t have to think twice, I raced outside, food forgotten, and snatched up my laser pistol when I reached the barn. Then I checked all the sensors, but they were running in optimal condition and hadn’t noticed anything. No, I realized, they hadn’t gone off because I had not set them to alert for that. But someone had walkedoutof the perimeter an hour ago. Where had Mariska gone, and why hadn’t she warned me?
A sense of dread washed over me. Though I knew she was her own person, free to go wherever she wanted, I was absolutely terrified. Why hadn’t she told me she’d left—or where she’d gone? What if someone had gotten to her on the road? What if Koratalin had found her?
Chapter 12
Mariska
I debated whether to tell Jeltom about my plan to go fetch some eggs all through lunch. Then he distracted me with kisses and cuddles, and I’d been a confused, floaty, noodle-shaped Mariska as I drifted out of the barn. He hadn’t explained to me yet what that flu-like stuff was—that I didn’t need to worry about, according to his friend—but this was Valentine, and it was the best Valentine ever, so I wasn’t going to ruin it with words.
I pondered what it could be as I made the fifteen-minute hike to town. Some kind of mating thing, I wanted to believe that very badly, but my information packet, when I first arrived on Aderia, had not included anything about mating. The Kertinal had something about it, but it was a very short segment that said the male just knew, or something weird like that. Aderians didn’t have fated mates at all, that I was certain of.
When I’d been shipped from Aderia to their colony planet, Llykhe, I remembered a newly bonded Aderian couple who had celebrated their wedding—and it was very Earth-like. So whatwasgoing on? I had no clue. I just hoped it had deeper meaning, because I’d never liked anyone as much as I liked Jeltom, and even though that terrified me just a little, I wanted him to stay with me.
The afternoon sun was nice and pleasant, the green hills and snow-capped mountains as beautiful as always. Lemane perfumed the air and reminded me of the explosion of flowers in my living room, courtesy of Jeltom. Who could have thoughtthat my stoic mechanic would go to such lengths? I was still glowing, and I’d messaged back and forth with Jess all day simply because I could not contain my giddy excitement. I had finally found a good guy, I knew it in my heart.
I did not even dread walking into town today the same way I normally did—as if my good mood could protect me from all those slightly too-helpful offers and kind smiles. Turns out, it could. I still got waves, but no more offers, and now it just felt like I was a neighbor they knew and liked. My skin did not prickle with unease, and my hackles didn’t go up. I felt… relaxed. Like I now belonged here too. Their smiles no longer seemed pitying or prying, but just pleasant. Maybe they’d always been that way, and I’d just been hypersensitive because I felt like I was drowning.
Stepping into the general store made me hesitate for only a moment. The shopkeeper might try to matchmake me with another member of his family, but this time, I could tell him I was taken. Jeltom certainly kissed me as if he were laying claim. My belly bubbled with happiness, my smile grew wider, and I pictured a future full of tasty wine, tastier kisses, and tangled nights as I went inside.
“Hi,” I said, and even to my own ears, that sounded extremely cheerful. The shopkeeper looked up from the datapad on the counter in front of him. He had long hair in thin braids along one temple, hanging free over the other shoulder. His black eyes were deep and fathomless, but they began to dance with happiness when he saw me.
“Ah, hello, Miss Mariska. What can I do for you today?” he asked, spreading his hands wide to indicate the array of goodsthat stocked his shelves. I looked around, for the first time finally not feeling like a bug under a microscope as I did so. The eggs were on one shelf in a neat, protective box. They weren’t chicken eggs, obviously, but Llyhke was home to a sort of pheasant-looking bird with a blue crest that laid eggs that were similar. Those were the ones they sold and used for much of their dishes. They were the perfect replacement for eggs in my brownie batter.
While I was there, I restocked on sugar and Haras flour. Their flour was red, but that didn’t affect the taste. I’d learned to make really lovely pastry dough and bread with it. Now, I was excited to try it in my brownies. I wanted to make them so badly, not just because, you know, fudgy, chocolatey goodness is always good, but to prove to Jeltom that I loved his gift. It was so thoughtful and so sweet of him to try and follow my customs like he had.
I held up the box to the shopkeeper as I came to the counter. “Just this for today, thank you.” He rang me up while commenting politely on the weather, but he said nothing about his cousin or uncle or half-brother—or whatever else he could usually come up with. I was out the door before I knew it, a little stunned when I realized there had been no attempt at matchmaking at all.
Now the question was: had they stopped being so overly concerned because I seemed happy, or was it because they knew Jeltom was at the farm with me? Honestly, what did the answer matter? All that mattered was that this was now a pleasant experience. It meant I might one day actually like hanging out in town, at the Laughing Nia with Jeltom when it was busy, perhaps.
I considered quickly popping my head into the saloon to thank Avertom for his superb suggestion that I hire Jeltom. It wasn’t far. Even if I stayed half an hour, I’d still be back in plenty of time to bake these brownies before dinner. I wanted us to have them for dessert. I hadn’t thought about what to make for dinner yet either, but perhaps Avertom would know what my sweet Valentine would like.
The saloon was not as empty as it had been that morning, when I’d first met Jeltom. It wasn’t all that busy yet, either. There were people having an afternoon drink after their work, and the clattering of pots and pans coming from the kitchen indicated dinner prep was in full swing. Avertom was behind the bar, but a young Aderian woman flitted through the room to serve drinks and take orders.
When he saw me, the normally quiet barkeep waved enthusiastically. “Ah, lovely Mariska, to what do I owe the pleasure? Jeltom not keeping you sufficiently busy up there?” He put a shiny, clean glass down on the counter in front of me and poured sparkling water into it with a flourish. He finished the drink off with a squirt of something yellow from a bottle, a sweet syrup I knew the Aderians were fond of. It was non-alcoholic and very refreshing. It was also the first time he’d poured that for me, and I sipped from it carefully as I lifted my basket to indicate my shopping.
“I needed eggs to make brownies for Jeltom,” I explained. Then we spent the next ten minutes talking recipes, which was fun. I had not had someone to discuss those with in a long time, and I loved to cook. Before I knew it, Avertom was begging me to bring the pastries Jeltom had adored that first night by sometime. Feeling stronger and much less suspicious of a kind word, Iactually believed he was genuinely curious. So curious, in fact, that he threatened to swing by my home one day if I didn’t bring them on my next visit.
As I finished my drink, he wouldn’t hear of payment. “I’ll put it on Jeltom’s tab, he can afford it,” he drawled with gleeful menace. The kind of teasing that felt like family. “That’s because we are,” Avertom said, though I hadn’t asked. “Cousins. His mom is my aunt.” I left the saloon with the realization that Avertom might have shown me his true self today—the side that was gregarious, kind, and definitely extremely empathic. He knew exactly what I’d been thinking, and I knew they vehemently denied being mind readers, but still…
That should have terrified me, discovering that the one guy I thought I was sort of safe around, besides Jeltom, was perhaps the most perceptive of all. But Avertom—he’d known exactly how not to act around me. He’d made me feel welcome and at ease, even when the rest of town had overwhelmed me with their good intentions. I didn’t want to keep thinking of every Aderian as suspicious just because they were so kind to me. I knew my past made me predisposed to distrust, but maybe it was time to let that go.
When an Aderian woman stopped me on the edge of town, I gave her the benefit of the doubt. She was unfamiliar to me and dressed in a very beautiful silk tunic over snug black leather pants—sort of chic and badass at the same time. Gold and jewel-encrusted rings covered her slender fingers, down to faux claws over her nails. It was very pretty, and a little intimidating.
She caught up to me from behind at a quick pace, as if she’d jogged to catch up with me. “Hang on, human, wait for me.” Ipaused and watched her as she approached. Her long hair was so shiny, it looked like silver, and the tips were dyed a bright red. I’d never seen an Aderian with hair like that, but it looked very cool. My own auburn curls never took dye well for some reason, but I’d always envied people who could rock bright blue or verdant green.
“Hi,” she said. “Thanks! I’m new, and I heard you have a farm in the hills. I’ve been curious about the whole vineyard business. I know it’s bold, but do you think I could have a tour?” A tour? I blinked twice at her, but she was still right there. She was asking me for a tour of my barely-there farm—me—when she could ask any one of the successful vineyards that dotted the hills.
