It took most of the night to keep Balor from marching over there and ‘learn him something.’ But that would come, she convinced him. The offlander knew now he wasn’t welcome.

  And Aurie agreed.

  He might be the most beautiful man she’d ever laid eyes on, he might look like a fairy tale knight on his white horse in that loose shirt and rugged pants, he might have eyes like the sun on a blazin…to the nine, she wanted to kick him. And herself. She wanted to reword it when she spoke to Maud about keeping her distance from that handsome…hideous old man. Yes, hideous. That’s the word she should use. Put the thought in her daughter’s head that he’s too old, too ugly, not muscular enough, anything but the fact that he was the absolute opposite of all of it. He could have killed her, after all. Had his horse not so beautifully leapt high enough for her to have been standing straight and still barely felt the passing of its hooves, she might have been run over. Of course, had the men not tried to fight him, he might not have been riding so fast.

  Aurie finished wiping the plates from breakfast while Maud scrubbed at the bits of spilt stew from the table where they had been set. Balor and Alden were still pulling on their cloth socks and tying their sandals. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Alden lift his stuffed bear and kiss it like he always did before they went off to work. Balor had given up trying to get him to stop that, but Aurie liked that her son still cherished what she stitched him when he was four even as fuzz began to grow on his chin.

  “Coward, if I ever saw one,” Balor had said about it when he told her what happened.

  Coward? She and Maud had exchanged looks. Balian, his brother, might think that when a man rides away from a village that was intent on beating him to death so they could divvy his land, but she and her daughter only half-heartedly agreed. The offlander didn’t ride away from them; he rode through them. Leapt right over them. Then raced home where, even as she was still picking up the pieces of broken jars and the bits of root and herbs she was able to salvage from dropping the basket, she heard the crashing rage from the house. No shouts, no thunderous roars, just wood pounding and breaking pottery. She knew those sounds better than Balor would ever admit. They weren’t the sounds of a coward. They were the sounds of a man’s patience.

  Now, she could talk Balor into taking them to Alcer soon. It was a much larger town with a market where she could get a new brush and a dress, if one was less than an eight-pence. Or at least a new shawl. Both her dresses and shawls had several tears from snagging on the arch into her garden beside the house and burn marks from the hearth. Her favorite one had caught on fire when she let Maud wear it several winters ago. Of course, that wouldn’t be the reason she gave her husband. It would be for him to introduce Maud to the local farmers’ sons to see if she catches their eyes. Maybe a merchant. No, no, Balor would never agree to that. They might be wealthy, but they moved too often and he would pout for ages if she was more than a days’ ride away.

  Aurie tucked the edge of the blanket under their mattress bag and straightened with a stretch of her back. Balor always hogged it, but that only meant she would have to curl up closer to him during these cool nights foreshadowing the coming spring. She would talk to Balor about her idea of going to Alcer when he was tired from tilling and they were alone tonight. Maybe make him a blood orange pie. There were a few ripe ones on the tree in the garden. She saw that some of the potatoes were ready for plucking the day before. Let his muscles tire and fill his belly, that’s the way to get what you want, mother always said. It worked on her father.

  Maud began scrubbing at the spills from when she carried the bowls to the table. Her hands always shook the most in the mornings. Aurie pretended not to notice when she went to kiss Balor goodbye as he and Alden left for the fields.

  The shaking had started the winter of her twelfth year, when she had fallen through the ice in the river. If not for Senna and Sadie Kelger’s wife, Addy, she might have drowned. A harsh price to pay. At first, she and Balor had been impatient and perhaps a little cruel about it, not knowing what to do about her dropping and breaking and spilling things. But, over time, they had seen what caused it. Not carelessness. And it was getting worse, which worried her. Even hurt enough that Maud would wrap her hands after dipping them in warm water.

  Balor made certain that they had fresh aloe seeds every year so that she could keep up with the many burns and blisters from hot stew and grease spills on her hands and fingers. She had a special place in the garden for them and a shelf near the hearth for the harvested leaves.

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  Yes, a pie will do it. Aurie rushed to the hearth to snuff out the fire, stepping over Aurie as she went. “I think we can talk your Pa into taking us to Alcer.”

  “What for?” Maud didn’t look up from her scrubbing, huffing just loud enough that she could hear it over the rattle at the effort.

  “So we can find you a husband. Good farmers there. Your cousin Jenelle can introduce you to ones your age, she’ll know which are unmatched.”

  “If Pa doesn’t like the offlander, what makes you think he’ll be right with an Alcrois?” Maud sat back on her haunches.

  Aurie shook her head as the blackened logs sizzled and smoked. “Perhaps, he will. You know, he’s an eye out for Dalfur. If you don’t want your puppy to follow you into his bed, then we have to try.”

  “I feel like a bag of grain at the market. Must get rid of it before it spoils.” Maud let out a long sigh.

  “Except we have to pay them to take you,” Aurie reminded her, fanning the smoke.

  “Ma.”

  Aurie hummed an answer. She took in a whiff of the smoke, its aroma enchanting her. This was her favorite part of the morning chores. When she could stand for a moment and enjoy the sweet smell of burnt cedar.

  “MA!”

  “What?” Aurie whipped around to find Maud staring wide eyed at the window. Aurie turned with a yelp at the long white nose sticking through it with a long tongue whipping at her hanging onions. “Hey!”

  Vigora curled her tongue around the bottom onion and tugged it out the window along with the rest. The hook they were hanging from hit the floor with a chime. Chomping echoed through the house as Aurie fumed.

  “Isn’t that…?” Maud began, but Aurie interrupted her with a slap of her hands on her dress as she stamped to the window.

  “That bastard’s horse!” Aurie growled. She put her head out the window to find Vigora rustling through the potato plants, picking off leaves. “Shoo!” She waved at her.

  Vigora lifted her head to look at her with her ears facing her like a rabbit’s. She made a sound like a breathy yelp, only it wasn’t one of exclamation but like she was telling her to stop distracting her from her breakfast. Then, she dismissively went back to nibbling on the potato leaves.

  “Shoo! Go home!” Aurie waved at her again. This time, the horse’s blue eyes turned upward as she lifted her enormous lips and took hold of the stalk. “Don’t you dare.” Aurie glared. “You better not or I swear by the gods…”

  Vigora tugged the potato with a splash of dirt and whipped it upward to look her defiantly in the eyes. Aurie gaped with a loud gasp.

  “You rotten beast!” Aurie lifted her dress and clawed out the window.

  Vigora’s ears perked outward and she whirled around, whipping the hanging potato like a dog with a rope.

  Aurie fell from the window onto the stiff aloe plants and jumped to her feet, but Vigora was already bounding over their wood and twine fence toward the Kelger farm. Though she knew she would never catch the damned thing, she still ran after it a few paces past the fence. “Shit on you, you—you—you thieving shit!”

  “Pretty horse,” Maud admired from the window.

  Aurie brushed the dirt from the dress, growling. She looked up to her daughter, her face tight with rage. Handsome or not, she wanted to strangle the man. And if she ever gets her hands on that horse, she’ll cook it. Maud’s emerald eyes widened at the sight of her blazing frustration and dipped back from the window.

  “Smart girl,” Aurie said through gritted teeth. She looked over her shoulder at the distant galloping horse one last time, then back to her garden. All the oranges within her reach without climbing the tree were gone, her aloe plants were flattened with broken leaves from where she fell, and she was one potato short. Not to mention the parsley, basil, and a dozen other herbs it had trampled through.

  A distant thud made her turn toward her neighbor’s house on the horizon. One of the garden fence posts fell over. She balled her fists. When Balor hears of this, he’ll beat the man bloody for it. And, this time, she’ll make sure it happens.