Chapter 229: Some Assembly Required. Husbands Included.

DOVE’S POV

The next morning, on Day One Hundred Twelve, Dove read the reply again while Thorne pretended he did not need her to.

The older worker had found a contact at the relief warehouse in Base C. The contact remembered Thorne’s father, believed he was still helping there, and had given them a time to call back for confirmation. It was better than a rumor. It was not quite a visit yet.

Thorne stood beside the table with his book open to the same page he had been looking at for ten minutes.

"You can be excited," Dove told him.

"I am."

"Your face is doing a very convincing impression of a man waiting to be punched."

He huffed a quiet laugh and set the book down. "I don’t want to get there and find he left yesterday."

She understood that too well to make a joke about it. "Then we check before we go. You don’t have to stop wanting it while we wait."

He reached for her, and she stepped into his arms. He held her carefully at first, then closer when she wrapped both hands around him. She liked being someone he could lean on. It did not make him smaller. It made the space between them feel less lonely.

Edrik came in from the street and stopped beside the water bottles. Dove looked over Thorne’s shoulder.

"Did you and Ash finish glaring?"

"For now."

"Wonderful. Was there a winner, or do I need to buy two little ribbons?"

"He went back to work."

That was enough for the moment. Thorne let her go, his thumb brushing her cheek before he turned back to the book.

They had a shaded strip of yard behind the room, with the pickup parked along one side and enough clear ground beside it to practice. Dove moved the loose baskets before either man started. The last thing she wanted was someone discovering a new power by falling over her laundry.

The front cabinet held that day’s clothing: six packs of three large cotton T-shirts and six pairs of light work pants. Plain colors, actual adult sizes, fabric people could wear in the worsening heat. She set the ordinary barter terms, kept the front walkway clear, and let approved sales happen without her giving every shirt a personal introduction.

In the yard, Thorne worked with an old metal strip from their repair supplies. He touched it, shaped a narrow curve, then corrected the edge without pulling the neighboring section out of line. The book asked for precision before more force.

"It’s very rude when instructions make sense," Dove told Sprout.

"Would you prefer an impressive failure?"

"I married enough impressive things. I want this one intact."

Thorne glanced at her. "Talking about me?"

"Only lovingly. Continue."

He shook his head, smiling, and tried the smaller web exercise. Silver strands appeared briefly between his hand and the strip. Edrik dropped a washer from a safe height. It caught for a breath before falling into the tray below.

Dove leaned closer, delighted. "You did that on purpose."

"That was the hope."

He repeated it once, held the washer a little longer, then stopped when his shoulders tightened. She passed him water before he could decide one more attempt would be harmless.

"You’ve proved it works. Now prove you can sit down."

He sat, taking her hand as she passed. "That part is easy if you stay."

She bent to kiss him, then touched his ear just because she wanted to. He looked so pleased that Edrik laughed from the pickup.

"Shameless," the bear said.

"Jealous?" Dove asked.

"Obviously."

He made the word sound like an invitation. She went to him with the radio, because she had promised herself she would learn what the controls did instead of demanding music from whichever husband happened to be holding it.

Edrik showed her the tuning dial and the switch for the bands. The battery was good. An ordinary broadcast came through weakly before he touched the casing, so when his effort steadied the reception she could hear the difference.

Music replaced the hiss for a few clear seconds.

Dove went still. She did not know the song, but she knew the feeling of hearing one while doing something ordinary. A kitchen. A car. A room where the sound existed because somebody liked it, not because it carried another warning.

"Keep that one," she said softly.

Edrik watched her instead of the dial. He held it as long as he comfortably could, then let the static return before the effort became pain.

"We’ll find it again."

She nodded. She wanted to thank him without turning a little song into a speech about everything she missed. Instead, she sat beside him on the lowered tailgate and rested her hand on his knee.

He covered it with his own.

"I want to get the whole song next time," he said.

"You don’t even know whether you like it."

"I want to decide before the damn radio does."

She laughed and leaned against him. "Fine, but if it’s terrible, you still have to dance with me."

"Demanding woman." He kept her hand beneath his while she tried to remember the tune.

At the front, a buyer called to say the hatch had issued his shirt pack. Dove called back that he was welcome, then stayed where she was for another minute. The shop could work while she had a life. That had been the point.

By late afternoon, the successful clothing day had earned the promised reward. She paid four Favor for the shirt pack she wanted and returned the two remaining pants units for the usual charge. Closing took minutes instead of consuming the little bit of music she was still humming.

Thorne caught the tune and tried to follow it badly enough that she laughed. He held out a hand anyway, and she gave him half a turn in the clear yard before stepping on his boot. Edrik offered no sympathy whatsoever. When she accused him of enjoying her failure, he took her other hand and proved he could move with her without treating it like a lesson. She wanted a whole evening of that someday, with a song that lasted and nobody checking the street. For now, she kept the few laughing steps they had managed.

Then the older employee returned, looking pleased.

"The warehouse confirmed it," he said. "He can receive you tomorrow. We thought you’d come by the workshop first, see what we’ve got running. Once you’re back with us, there’s a lot we could do."

Dove looked at Thorne.

"Where would he be staying?" she asked.

"At the workshop. There’s a room."

Thorne’s hand closed around hers before the man could tell her where she would fit.