Chapter 224: She Was Not Buy One, Get One Free

DOVE’S POV

Edrik had admitted the punch without pretending he had saved the world.

"He kept looking after you told him to stop," he had said, sitting beside her in the upstairs room. "I disliked him."

Dove had looked at his knuckle, then at the man leaving below. Part of her had enjoyed knowing Edrik took her irritation seriously. Another part knew she would be the one standing behind the counter tomorrow if every rude customer left bleeding.

"Next time, let me finish telling him off first," she had said. "I was doing quite well."

"You were."

"And don’t look so pleased with yourself while I’m trying to be annoyed."

He had kissed her fingers instead of promising to become harmless. She would not have believed that promise anyway.

This morning, she had come back downstairs to answer a different man, the water trader who wanted her in his office.

The water trader stood beside the hardware counter as the clerk finished unlocking it. Dove had washed, eaten breakfast, and arrived early enough to watch him uncover the cheaper bottles. The price was still there. So was the trader’s irritating smile.

"We can talk here," she told him.

Behind her, Thorne carried the empty canvas bag. Edrik stood near the store entrance, clean knuckles visible against the doorframe. The diner worker passing with a tray glanced at his hand, then at Dove. So somebody had seen yesterday’s little outing. Lovely. Another loose end with shoes on.

Dove turned her attention back to the water.

Clear packs of six sealed bottles stood beneath the trader’s table. More packs with the same blue stripe sat behind the hardware register, stacked under a handwritten sign with a much lower exchange rate.

She read both labels before saying anything.

"Are those from the same delivery?" she asked the clerk.

The trader answered first. "Mine are available now."

"That wasn’t the question I asked you."

The clerk leaned over, checked the marks, and nodded. "Same supplier. I checked with the owner. These are for sale at the posted price."

Dove looked at the price again. The trader was charging almost twice as much for the pleasure of following him through a narrow doorway.

"I admire your confidence," she told him. "Unfortunately, I brought eyes."

Thorne’s quiet laugh warmed her back. Edrik did not laugh. He watched the trader’s hands.

Dove traded approved ordinary goods with the clerk for two six-bottle packs. She checked the caps, packed one in their smaller cart, and kept the other where they could reach it during travel. They still had their own water. This gave them breathing room if the delayed depot delivery stayed delayed.

Sprout offered a cheerful reminder that she could have selected food and drinks today.

"And hoped you gave me exactly what I wanted?" she thought. "I prefer bottles I can see."

"You have selected no new sales stock today."

"Yes. Watch me enjoy having plans that aren’t yours."

The bottle packs fitted the cart without burying their lunch. Dove checked that she could reach both handles, because buying a useful thing and making it impossible to carry was not the victory she wanted.

She thanked the clerk and started toward the door. The trader caught the cart handle.

"You could at least hear my offer."

Dove stopped. Her first impulse was to yank the cart back, but the narrow space between shelves gave her nowhere useful to pull it. She set the brake with her foot and looked at him.

"Take your hand off my things."

He glanced toward Edrik and apparently failed to recognize the expression waiting for him. "We’re talking."

Edrik crossed the space, caught the man’s wrist, and pinned his hand to the counter. The pressure changed the trader’s face immediately.

"She finished," he said.

Thorne moved the empty basket blocking the doorway. Dove released the brake and rolled the cart out herself. She had bought what she wanted. She did not need to stay and watch the trader discover more things he should already know.

Edrik followed seconds later. The clerk remained inside, very interested in rearranging his pens.

Outside, heat rose from the road strongly enough to blur the parked trucks. A fly landed on Dove’s sleeve. She flicked it away and pulled the cart into the diner’s shade.

"I would like one interaction with a man who doesn’t think a private room improves his argument," she said.

"You’re married to two," Thorne pointed out.

"You improve your arguments with sandwiches. A far better system."

He took her hand and kissed her knuckles, then went inside to order lunch. Edrik stayed beside her while she checked the cart straps.

"You solved the water deal," he said.

"I noticed two identical labels. Let’s not nominate me for president."

"I like watching you notice."

The words landed more softly than his teasing usually did. She looked up, and he was simply looking at her. No joke waiting, no demand to be thanked for the wrist.

Dove touched his arm. "I like knowing you won’t let someone take my cart while I do."

His expression changed in a way that made her want to keep looking. She did, until Thorne came out with sandwiches, sliced vegetables, and a bowl of fruit large enough for all three.

They ate beneath the covered porch, where the air finally began moving. Cal had decided to hold until the worst heat passed and check the road again before departure. Other travelers rested near the fence, their shirts dark with sweat.

Dove tipped her face toward the breeze. Beyond the lot, Ash stood beside the trees in human form, watching their porch instead of finding his own lunch.

"Does he plan to haunt every meal?" she asked.

"He’s consistent," Edrik said.

"A deeply annoying quality in the wrong person."

A cool drop touched her wrist. Then another struck the wooden table.

Dove looked up at the darkening sky with such sudden hope that she nearly laughed. Rain. Real rain, falling onto hot pavement, bringing the smell of dust with it.

"Oh, thank God," someone said beside the fence.

The first puddle gathered near the truck tire. Clear drops struck it, spread, and darkened.

Dove lowered her sandwich.

Across the gravel, a thin red stream began running toward the drain.