Page 18 of Rescued by the Alien Bull Rider (Cowboy Colony Mail-Order Brides #6)

ZOHRO

W hen Tasha emerged from the house a great while later, I was certain she was about to tell me that they would arrange some kind of transport to take Jolene away.

Instead, she threw me tail over head when she said, “Jolene has agreed to proceed with the two-week trial period. That’s fourteen days.”

“Excellent,” Warden Tenn said, moving to his wife’s side and putting his arm around her waist. He squeezed her hip and looked at me. “That’s fourteen days you have to woo her, Zohro.”

Woo her?

No one had said anything about wooing.

I wouldn’t know how to woo someone if such an activity came with an instruction manual! I’d never been likeable, and I certainly hadn’t become more so while cut off from all decent society.

But at least it was something. She would not leave tonight. I had a chance, however miniscule.

“You look worried,” Tasha said, a pucker forming between her eyebrows.

“I am not worried,” I growled. “I am strategizing.”

“You are already off to a good start,” the warden said encouragingly, pointing his tail at the jamdildos I held between my claws.

I’d worked ceaselessly over the evening to make them, using Jolene’s clothes on the clothesline for measurements and adding extra in the abdominal area.

My stomach scrunched with hunger having not eaten since this morning.

“Oh!” Tasha said. “Those look nice. Good work, Zohro.”

“I would like some credit for advising him,” Warden Tenn rumbled, pulling her closer. She swatted him on the chest, but she was smiling.

“You’ll get credit if you pronounced the word correctly,” she said.

“Of course I did,” he scoffed. “I always do.”

“Sure you do,” Tasha said. “Tenn, can you get out the tent? We’re going to stay here for a bit.”

“Pardon me?” I asked, staring at her.

“It’s what Jolene wants,” Tasha said. Despite her soft and pretty appearance, she could be brutal in her own way when she wanted to be, especially when she was looking out for the interests of the human women.

Her expression became suddenly cool and smooth, no cracks to allow opposition.

“We won’t get in your way and we won’t sleep inside the house.

But we will be staying on the property for at least a few days, and will require access to your water and other supplies. Is that clear?”

“She would have made a marvellous warden,” Tenn said, his eyes going pathetically white for his woman, “Would she not have?”

Tasha’s firm expression never wavered. But her cheeks did darken at the warden’s lovesick compliment.

“Fine,” I snapped, already grating at the idea of having supervisors. “But only because Jolene wants it. Otherwise, I’d be sending the both of you on your way.”

“Very generous of you,” the warden said dryly. “You will surely have no trouble winning Jolene’s heart with that open and giving attitude of yours.”

“Funny,” Tasha said, her smile slowly returning. “I actually don’t think he’s going to have any trouble at all.”

I left Warden Tenn and Tasha to erect their tent, hopefully somewhere not too close to the house. I was not used to guests, and the only one I was actually interested in putting up with was Jolene.

I found her in the kitchen. She appeared startled when she saw me. Nervous. I wished that did not hurt me, but it did.

“I, um. I made you some food,” she said, avoiding my eyes. “Or, I slapped it on a plate, at least,” she said, indicating a dish of smoked meat and pickled root vegetables on the table. “I ate earlier. I only just realized you didn’t eat any lunch or dinner. And I felt bad.”

She felt bad for her hungry convict husband?

Well, that was something, I supposed.

I stared at the plate. It was a simple thing. No cooking involved.

And yet, that act strangely touched me. I wanted to recoil from it, but forced myself to sit with it instead.

“Thank you,” I said.

The words were stiff. When was the last time I’d thanked anyone for anything?

“I made you something as well. Jamdildos.”

She looked startled all over again. Fascinatingly, her neck flushed red a moment before her cheeks did. I wondered how hot her skin was now.

“You… Pardon?!”

“The warden told me about it.”

“The warden told you to make me a dildo?”

“That is not exactly how he pronounced it,” I said. “But yes.”

“I, um. Wow. OK.” She raked her fingers through her bright hair, leaving the strands fluffed out from her face. I wanted to catch one of them between my fingers. Touch it to my lips.

“I really don’t think I’ll need a dildo,” she stammered. “Unless…” She bit her lip. “Let me see it first.”

I crossed the room to her and put the slippery garments into her hands.

“Uh.” She looked down at the jamdildos. She did not look pleased by them. She looked… Confused, perhaps? Certainly underwhelmed.

Curse you, Warden.

“What is wrong with them?” I snatched the top garment back, inspecting the seams with a merciless eye. The stitches were as precise as my sutures. Which was to say that they were flawless.

“Is the dildo in here somewhere?” she asked, sifting through the silkiness of the trousers she held. “Is this the wrapping?”

“It is not wrapping!” I informed her. How could she not appreciate the perfection of the jamdildos I had sewn for her? “Tell me,” I said, irritation sawing through the edges of my words, “precisely what is wrong with the jamdildos. So that I may correct it.”

“I just…” She shook the trousers, sending the shiny fabric fluttering back and forth. “Is that it?

“Do you require more clothing to sleep in?” I asked. “I can make more if that is what you mean.”

“Hold on. Clothing to sleep in?” She regarded the trousers, then the top in my hand, as if with new perspective. “Are you talking about pyjamas?”

“No,” I said testily. “I am talking about jamdildos.”

She made a horrible sound, and I felt my whole body sink at the realization that she was going to cry again. The jamdildos I had made her were so bad that they were bringing my bride to tears! Empire help me. Help us both.

But she did not cry. She laughed.

It was not a sweet or melodic sound. It was hoarse and loud and every few breaths, she snorted loudly through her nose.

She showed all her teeth as she did it, something few good Zabrian females of decent standing would do.

Perhaps she knew this, or somehow sensed it, because she slapped a hand over her mouth, covering half her face and muffling the noise.

Cycles ago, I would have approved of such a thing.

Of the way she hid her mirth. It was only proper.

Not now. Now, I merely wanted her to show herself to me. Fully, and without barrier.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Do what?” she asked from behind her hand, her shoulders shaking.

“Hide yourself from me.”

Her laughter ceased at once. She let her hand fall.

“Well, neither do you,” she said on a whisper. “You kind of dropped a bomb on me before and then just… ran away.”

“A bomb?”

“Like, a truth bomb.” She put her fists together, then sent them flying away from each other, all while making a dramatic krrrrr sound through her teeth.

Truth bomb.

I actually liked it. Many human phrases – like jamdildos – were stupid. But this one seemed incredibly apt. Sometimes the truth did have the power to explode like a bomb. Leaving us with ringing in our ears and shrapnel in our lungs as we stumbled through the wreckage.

“Well, I am sorry if it was a truth bomb ,” I muttered, putting the jamdildos top on the table beside the plate she’d prepared me. “But I could not let you go on under your misapprehension any longer.”

“I understand.” She put the trousers down, too.

“I’m sorry I came here without doing enough research.

Getting your hopes up about a marriage and then freaking out on you.

You didn’t do anything wrong. I actually think it was brave of you to tell me as soon as you did.

I ended up talking with the other girls for a really long time.

Cherry told me that Silar kept his conviction from her for weeks . ”

“Seems to have worked out well enough for him,” I replied sourly, crossing my arms over my bandaged chest. “If I had been a less decent male, then I, too, could have let you believe I was nothing but a normal rancher. Let you begin to build your life with me, let you become attached to me, before I told you the truth.” Something bitter burned. “But I could not.”

So maybe I was not the paragon of Zabrian decency. But at least I tried. Perhaps to my own detriment.

“No. I like it better this way,” Jolene said, her eyes so clear and blue. “I don’t want to start to love someone who’s lying to me.”

Love someone.

Truth bomb. Or at least some kind of bomb went off inside me at her words. Left me reeling, the tentacles of emotions I could not name and had long since tried to bury spilling invisibly out of me. A monster that could end me.

“I’m going to eat,” I choked out, flopping myself so hard into a chair it was a wonder the wood didn’t crack. “You should put those on for bed. It’s late.”

Jolene nodded, picked up the jamdildos, and left the room.