heads mounted on one wall and posters with desperate-looking men on another. The woman behind the counter wore a blue gingham dress and a frilly white apron.
Micah stared at the animal heads while Lainey ordered a couple of cheeseburgers with the works, a double order of ranch fries, and two chocolate shakes. He had developed quite a taste for meat since coming to Earth.
"You're awfully quiet," Lainey observed as they took a seat at a booth near a window. "Is something wrong?"
"A big church wedding," Micah said. "What is that?"
Lainey made a vague gesture with her hand. "A wedding is when people get married. Sometimes you invite a lot of friends and family and have a big party. That's a big wedding. And sometimes people go away and get married quietly. That's what we'll do."
"You don't want a big church wedding again?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"I already went that route with Drew and it didn't work out. I guess maybe I'm a little superstitious."
"Superstitious?"
"Afraid that if I go through all that again with you, something might go wrong."
Micah nodded. "What is Vegas?"
"It's a place where you can get married without any blood tests."
Micah frowned, remembering Red Hair and Mac and fat syringes filled with blood.
"Most places require blood tests before you can get married to be sure you don't have any diseases, but in your case, I don't think that's a good idea."
Understanding dawned in Micah's eyes. Of course, he could not let anyone test his blood. The color alone would cause any number of questions that could not be answered.
"But, Lainey, will you be happy going to this Vegas place to be married?"
Lainey smiled. "I'll love it," she said, folding her hand over his. "And I love you."
He started to reply, but the waitress chose that moment to bring their order. She stared at Micah for a moment, her eyes wide. "You aren't... I mean, are you... ?"
"No," Lainey replied. "He isn't."
"Well, a girl can hope," the waitress retorted, and walked away, her skirts swishing.
"Would you like to go sightseeing after we eat?" Lainey asked. "There's a blacksmith shop, an old newspaper office, an assay office..." She frowned, trying to remember what other buildings remained. "Oh, a jail, of course, and a brothel..."
"Brothel?"
Lainey shrugged. "You know, a house of ill repute? Whore house? Prostitutes?" She shook her head when she saw he still didn't understand. "A place where men could pay to have sex."
"Ah," Micah said.
"Do they have such places on Xanthia?"
"No, but there are planets where such things are common."
"Really?"
"The urge to mate is strong throughout all the known galaxies," he remarked with an exaggerated leer. "My own urge has grown steadily stronger since I met you."
Lainey felt herself blush from the soles of her feet to the roots of her hair as the waitress chose that moment to stop by and see if they needed anything else.
"We're fine," Lainey stammered. "Just bring the check, please."
"You're very pretty when your cheeks turn pink," Micah said as they left the restaurant.
"I'm glad you think so, since I seem to blush frequently since I met you."
They spent the next two hours touring the town, looking at old butter churns, and flat irons that weighed a ton, and huge black kettles. They saw old fire engines and pot-bellied stoves, cast-iron wash tubs and outdoor pumps, high-button shoes and whalebone corsets.
"I wish I'd brought my camera," Lainey said as they walked through the old jail. "I can't believe I left it home. I take it everywhere."
Micah grimaced as he peered into one of the iron-barred cells. It took very little to imagine what it must have been like to be locked up in such a dreary place. All too clearly, he recalled being imprisoned on Einar Three, and, more recently, being strapped to a cold metal table, his freedom gone, his life in the hands of his enemies.
Leaving the jail, Lainey dragged Micah intoWilson 's Western Emporium and insisted he try on a cowboy hat. Most men looked great in cowboy hats, and Micah was no exception. Lainey insisted on buying him one, choosing a black Stetson with a rolled brim.
"No, Lainey," Micah said, removing the hat. "You've done enough for me already."
"What do you mean?"
"You buy my food. You bought me clothes. I live in your house. It is enough."
"But you need a souvenir," she argued. "Besides, it looks great on you."
"No."
Lainey grimaced. Apparently male pride wasn't a trait unique to Earth men. "I want you to have it, Micah. Please? It isn't polite