Mari's Mistake - Ruby Dixon Page 0,72

quietly. T'chai does the same, and I lace his boots up for him, trying to show him in silence how to do a double knot. He fumbles it, then shakes his hand, and I realize it's the one with the bad tendons. I know it bothers him, but in my head, it's such a small thing. I watched him hold his guts in his hand and thought he was going to die right in front of me. I don't care if his hand doesn't work perfect. So I playfully flick his hand aside and tease him, instead. "Don't take my wifely duties away. That's my job."

His eyes flare with heat, and I think about his lotion-slicked glove, and a hot tingle of warmth rushes through me. We finish dressing, and we help put on each other's gloves, and he has to pull out new ones. I can tell we're both thinking about that night, and I'm blushing as he finishes tying my glove on my hand.

"Do you have another pair packed?" I ask. "Just in case?"

"In case?"

"In case the healing doesn't work. I still want…us."

There's such warmth and affection in his gaze that I want to revel in it. "I want us, too." And he puts another pair in the leather pack that's already brimming with our stuff.

I think about “us” and what it means as we leave the hut behind, and a still-sleeping Daisy. We stop by the huts of the other Tall Horn clans members, and I explain to Callie and Penny about Daisy and how she's going to need people helping her. Penny's eager to volunteer, but Callie—my fiery, takes-no-shit friend—only gives me a skeptical look.

"You sure about this, amiga?"

I nod quickly. "If there's a chance to fix this, I want to try."

She purses her lips and pulls me away from the others. "I just…I don't want you making yourself even more unhappy. Ves burro y se te antoja viaje."

It's a saying that fills me with a pang of grief, because it's something my parents said all the time. You see a donkey and want to go traveling. She's saying I'm upset with what I have just because I'm comparing myself to others. Maybe she's right. Even so…I want to try. "Easy for you to say," I tell her in Spanish. "You're not the one with the bad cootie."

"Is yours bad?" She taps my chest, right over my heart. "Because you're alive. So maybe it's not all that bad, hm? I'm just saying, don't sell yourself so short. It's not perfect, but what is?" She puts her hands on my shoulders and shakes her head. "I'm not lecturing you, chica. I just want you to be happy, okay? Just don't set yourself up for disappointment. You love him and he loves you. Everything else will figure itself out."

I nod, but she doesn't understand. She doesn't know what it feels like. "Just look out for Daisy for me, will you?"

She agrees, and then I pull T'chai away before I can change my mind about this trip. It's just a visit to the healer. That's all it is. We're just seeing if we can be fixed. That's all. Nothing more.

Tia sobs openly as Ashtar's saddle is fitted and bags packed onto the dragon's back. "I don't want to go," she cries, clearly upset. "I want to stay."

Liz and Raahosh are here to see us off, along with R'jaal and Sessah. The men strap packs onto Ashtar and pile blankets into the “sidecar” baskets on the dragon's side for the passengers to sit in. I'm not entirely sure I'm thrilled about riding in one of those baskets all day, but it's too late to change my mind. I'm not going to let an uncomfortable ride keep me from what needs to happen. T'chai is at my side, tightening my furs and fussing over my layers, as the wind is crisp and biting today.

"Please don't make me go," Tia whines to Liz. The mated woman looks visibly upset at Tia's distress, but she shakes her head. "Everyone's going to forget me!" Tia weeps, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I'm going to come back and there will be no one left to mate to!"

"Is that all you're worried about?" Liz asks, exasperated. "Seriously?"

Sessah glances backward at Tia, and if anything, he looks more upset that she's leaving than Tia does.

"Everyone's been resonating," Tia continues. "If I'm not here and Daisy is, she's going to take my spot. It's not fair!"

"You're seventeen," Liz