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“I’m not sure either of us wants that.”
“You’re not a very good liar, Jovak Longstrider,” Laney says. “But you’re a pretty good guy, you know that?”
I snarl at her. “I am a warrior whose blades have spilled enough blood to fill a river, youngling. I do not think I am a ‘good guy’ by your human standards.”
Laney laughs at me. “The hell with that. You’re a good guy. I can tell. I have a sense for these kinds of things.”
Her hand goes to her head, and she grimaces.
“Another headache?”
“Yes, but it’s not as bad as the one I had yesterday.” She’s in pain, but she seems intent on forging through it. “Listen, my sister is pretty standoffish. You’re not the first man to try to sweep her off of her feet.”
“Indeed?” Now I’m rapt with attention. If I find out why she rejected her past suitors, it will help me understand what she wants in a man. Then I can woo her accordingly.
“Oh yeah, lots of guys want her.” Laney shrugs. “She’s beautiful, smart, and tough.”
“Why did she reject the others?”
“I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “I know that she’s super picky, but it’s more than that. I think she’s afraid that if she really cares about someone, even loves them, that something bad is going to happen.”
“That would seem to me to be an irrational fear.”
Laney blows a razz and snorts. “Yeah, no kidding, but it’s how she feels. The good news is all of those guys were missing something. The secret ingredient.”
I arch my brows in query. “Secret … ingredient? What kind of secret ingredient?”
“Moi,” she says, gesturing to herself.
“Moi?” I repeat the strange word, gesturing at myself. “Is this some kind of word of power for a human love spell?”
Laney laughs really hard, almost falling out of the wagon. Only the fact that her head starts bothering her interrupts her exuberant mirth.
“Ow,” she says, grimacing and rubbing her head. “No, it’s not a spell. Moi means ‘me’ in another language. I forget the name, but Laney says it sometimes. I think she picked it up from our grampa before he died.”
“You’re the secret ingredient?”
“Sure,” Laney said. “I didn’t like any of those other guys. And just between you and me, nobody stands a chance of winning Paige’s heart without me liking them.”
“I appreciate and value your support, little one,” I reply.
“Good, because you should.” She sticks her tongue out at me. “With me in your corner, you can’t lose.”
I laughed at her childish exuberance, but I got the feeling she was dead serious too. She held her fist out toward me. I stared at it curiously for a moment.
“You’re supposed to fist bump,” she says with a sigh, tapping her knuckles into my own. Her hand is so tiny compared to mine, but I appreciate the sentiment.
About that time, her sister returned, and our conversation was over. But Laney sticks true to her word. For the next few days, as we travel the long and winding road back to Shattered Rock lands, Laney drops subtle and some not-so-subtle clues that she thinks I would be the perfect man for Paige.
I appreciate her efforts, yet it’s kind of embarrassing. Mostly for Paige, whose face turns red almost every time Laney mentions it.
Yet Laney is far from fully recovered and spends a lot of time resting or sleeping in the wagon. This gives Paige and me plenty of time to talk. Most of the things we speak of aren’t important at all. Some are very important. But one thing always remains true ... we spend most of our time smiling.
In fact, at the end of one particularly long day, my cheeks hurt from smiling so much, and my throat was a bit raw from laughter. I drink honey mixed with milk to help my throat, but I suppose it’s a good problem to have, laughing yourself sore.
Then, on the seventh day after I rescued her, we came upon a totem. A stack of stones waist high to me are piled on top of each other until the shadow crosses over the road ahead of us. The stones are painted with white sigils and fearsome-looking faces.
“Um,” Paige says as we move past the marker. “That’s not exactly welcoming.”
