~

Chapter Fifty-four

~

Zia handled the Snowcat like a pro. But since it remains winter in the Range about four-thirds of the year, suppose she gets plenty of practice. She talked loudly to be heard over the chuggin’ diesel engine, nudged her elbow lightly into my shoulder frequently.

I was really glad to be home. My eyes teared. Probably the cold. A weird kind of emotion I’m not used to tightened my chest. Maybe some of it was recognition that I might have died on that open field. But that was only a little of the unexpected senses floodin’ all over me. And all emotion befuddles me.

“Ike arrived early this mornin’ by helo,” she said. “Bliar last night. They haven’t left the table they sat down at, about six AM, scowls cloudin’ their faces, fists grippin’ mugs I don’t think they’ve sipped from in hours.”

“How’s yar mama?” I asked, not wantin’ to think about council business yet, if ever. With luck I’d avoid it. That depended on how much fire Nuel could light under Ike and Bliar without me. She’s special about raisin’ emotion.

“Ya’re concerned about how she’s taken it, me stayin’ at yar place this past week?” she asked.

That hadn’t actually occurred to me in a couple days, but it was somethin’ safe we could talk about. So I nodded.

“She’s not all that old fashioned. Figgers my doin’s are up to me. Almost as though she doesn’t expect me to come back home except to visit. Repeats often that she just wants me to be happy.”

I cleared my throat. “Lot easier makin’ it to the inn with all the snow. Huh?”

She turned a smile my way. I hoped she wouldn’t mention the convenience of the dorm, fifteen feet away from the kitchen.

“And convenient,” I continued, “even come spring.”

“Ya think ya be needin’ a nurse that far off?”

My throat tightened more. No way I could answer that for a while. Why did I even say that?

“Mama says we hens take to nursin’ a bull quite naturally,” she said.

“I won’t lie.” I choked a bit. “I’ve been ruminatin’ about ya in my cabin a lot. And it’s all been very pleasant.”

She laughed. “So, ya think ya’ll enjoy my continued presence?” Don’t think that was really a question.

“Gotta ask—” My throat closed down completely this time. Must be that bullet they took out of my neck.

“What? Though, I think I can figger it out.”

I kept my mouth shut hopin’ she’d fill in the conversation without me. She’s pretty good about that, thank goodness.

“It’s rather bold of each of us,” she said, lowerin’ her voice, leanin’ closer to me. “But I’m not takin’ any shame in admittin’ I’m open to bein’ yar mate.”

Pow!

My chest expanded enough I expected to see chunks of my heart and lungs splash against the frosted front glass. Tears worked their way down my cheeks. She couldn’t have just said that. I had to have dreamed it.

I asked her to pinch me. To bein’ my mate?

“I said it,” she said. “Not takin’ it back. If ya refuse me I’ll have to kill ya outta shame. Anger too, of course.”

We entered the edge of the Hamlet before my lips began palpitatin’, workin’ to form words. Any thought would have to come from my lips because my brain had shut down. I knew I should say somethin’. Had to say somethin’. She’d expect some sort of acknowledgment. Positive reinforcement. She’d said, mate.

Mate.

“Clearly,” she whispered hard at my ear, tusk teasing’ my jaw. “I’ve taken the air out of yar sails, stealin’ yar opportunity to ask to woo me. Either that, or ya’re shocked I could be so off base. Or forward.”

I leaned my head into her arm, since it hurt so much to turn my head to peer into her green eyes. The thought crossed, how interestin’ it would be, a mate to a troll, two heads taller than me. A smile exploded on my face. It would be dandy.

Glad her family enjoys a cut of meat at dinner. Otherwise I’d hate every other Friday.

~

Nuel

~

I’m not proud to admit how jealous I was watchin’ Kriz and Zia in the seats in front of me. Even if it remained odd, an ogre and a troll. But since they met, they’ve had googly eyes. Maybe Kriz had turned less irritatin’ since that day.

In truth, we hadn’t had an all out war but that once since, outside of an OW conference room. And that last time, like a fool, I didn’t know I was settin’ him on fire.

I looked up at Jam. What would an ogre-troll relationship be like? Raised pretty much like a human, callin’ a human woman Mama, maybe the differences would loom larger in the head of a typical Range hen, or bull.

Jam looked down at me, an expression implyin’ he read every thought in my head, and despite the cold, my face bloomed with heat.

But a second later he leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Don’t worry, ya’re not the only one thinkin’ it now, nor be the last, maybe ever.”