Resisting the Alien Rider (Cowboy Colony Mail-Order Brides, #3)

by Ursa Dax

When Magnolia had said my name, it had been like someone had fastened reins to my tail or my spine or my skull and yanked. Like there was no other option but for me to wheel my body around mid-stride and barrel back towards her. Like I was no longer in control of anything, least of all myself.

She made the act of pissing sound pretty. How was that even possible? I’d let her urinate on me if she wanted to.

Laziness, I grunted internally. Imagine just snapping something open and expecting it to – I looked down at the collapsible trough in my hands. Yes. Well. That is different.

“Sweet pee,” I echoed in confused confirmation. “As in urine?”

I tried to ignore the fact that I was now rather pathetically envious of Killian, disappointed that Magnolia had not also referred to me as sweetened piss.

I did not particularly enjoy chaos. Because usually, I was the one who had to clean up the mess after. No. I liked predictability. The numbing comfort of routine. It wasn’t precisely happiness, and it probably never would be. But it was a life.

“Always keep your eyes on the road ahead.” His voice was gruffer now. “Don’t you ever look back.”

“What in the great dusty blazes would I do with a wife?” “What everybody does, I suppose,” I said dreamily, thinking of the way Silar and Fallon so obviously worshipped their human wives. “Love her.”

Being with Magnolia was making new males of us both. I wondered if we’d even recognize each other, or ourselves, when she was gone. Who were we becoming with her? Who would we be without her?

I could not remember the last time I’d felt so catastrophically alive.

She was right. I did not give out compliments often. To anyone. And yet I had dozens, hundreds of them lined up and waiting for her.

“Just for the record, Garrek,” she said, beaming and backing away from me. “That was a hug.”

I smelled her all around me even though she was not there.

It was pointless to hope for such a thing. Dreams meant nothing, and good things, when they came, could never last.

“He cares for the animals,” Garrek mused suddenly. “He would not have burned their food supply on purpose.” His face was serious. “I believe that. Very deeply.”

“I still can’t believe they dump you guys here with no therapy or mental health resources or anything,” I said wearily. “Although, there is such a thing as equine therapy for humans. Maybe working with the animals is helping him.” “Maybe.”

“For someone who was all wound up about Killian having an ear infection,” I snapped, “you seem blithely unaware of the dangers of getting random, murky-ass creek water in your open wounds!”

“Murky what?” “Murky. Ass. Water.”

“OK, what, then? The day I was born? Or maybe the first time I downloaded a romance book onto my comms tablet without my Nan’s permission and stayed up all night reading it when I was way too young? It was an Old-Earth cowboy romance, now that I think about it. Pretty sure it changed my DNA. It certainly changed my outlook on how beautiful a life could be.”

“What’s a romance book?” “Of course, the guy who doesn’t know about hugs wouldn’t know about romance books,” I tsked. “It’s a type of novel. Fiction. It focuses on the romantic relationship of the protagonists. A love story, basically.”

I could show you more of the wild places of this world. I could take you anywhere you wanted.

“I need to make sure you understand that, once we meet him, she will go with him. And we will continue on without her.” I felt like one of the gutted fish at our feet as I said it.

“We could kill him,” Killian said suddenly. His eyes blazed in the low evening light. “She can’t go with him if he’s dead. And then she’ll need us. To keep taking care of her.” What in the blazes…

My heart trilled like a caught bird when he lowered his big body down beside me.

“Glad to hear it,” he said dryly. “I’ll have you know that trying to conceal my feelings caused me a significant amount of stress.”

“I suppose that stress goes hand in hand with caring. The more you love something, the more you worry. And want to protect it.”

She loved me. That was a sacred revelation I still was not sure I was worthy of. But it was not just love, was not just care she felt. She wanted me on a base, primitive level. She wanted me as a man. As a husband. As a mate.