Chapter 89: Her Husband Was Not Store Credit

The man beside Saffra’s chair glanced at Thorne and did not move. Dove watched him make the sensible choice, then planted both hands on her counter before Saffra repeated herself.

"He’s my husband," she said. "You can put your finger down before he decides you’re pointing at the exit."

Thorne set the bags behind her and took his place at the counter. His expression had gone flat enough that the men nearest the chair eased back. Edrik stayed at the opening into Dove’s working space, leaving her a clear route to the bedroom and everyone else no route at all.

"Females share," Saffra said, as though explaining a rule to somebody slow. "Surely you don’t need both of them every night."

"We choose our own mates," Dove answered. "That goes for them too. If you need it explained again, buy something first. I’m open."

A follower laughed before remembering who he stood beside. Saffra slapped his offered hand away and demanded to know why the keeper had given the best available room to a woman who had only arrived yesterday. Dove held up her key without handing it over.

"Because I paid for it. You can try that, or keep complaining in the walkway until people start climbing over your chair."

Edrik’s mouth curved. Saffra noticed, and her gaze sharpened at him next. She asked whether he understood how many men had already chosen her. The bear looked at the crowded walkway as though counting obstacles between him and lunch.

"You could fill the yard," he said. "I would still be sitting here when you left."

Her largest mate stepped forward when she snapped at him. He reached toward the opening behind Dove’s counter, apparently hoping he could make the bear move without starting anything ugly. Edrik caught his wrist and turned him back toward the chair with one controlled pull.

Thorne touched the loose iron bracket along the counter. It bent flat beneath his palm, closing the snag Dove had noticed earlier. His eyes stayed on the men outside, and the quiet scrape of metal carried farther than a shouted warning.

"How many do you think would stop either of you?" Dove murmured when the other man backed away. She wasn’t asking them to demonstrate. She wanted to know whether she needed the bedroom door open or shut.

"Those forty weren’t enough for either of us," Edrik said. "There are fewer now." The answer stayed low, intended for her, and Thorne didn’t disagree. Confidence wouldn’t stop a hidden gun, though, so Dove kept the counter between herself and the crowd.

She turned the first radio toward the people watching. "Hand crank, light, and battery backup. Whoever wants the demonstration can stay. Whoever came to argue about my husband can find something useful to do."

The guide brought over two buyers from the work crews. Dove showed them the charging handle and let each turn it before switching on the light. An empty channel hissed through the speaker. She explained that owning a radio didn’t guarantee anyone would be broadcasting nearby.

One buyer checked the casing and nodded. The other asked to test his own batteries, pleased when the backup compartment took them. Both traded without asking for a smile, a date, or permission to inspect her bedroom, which improved her morning considerably.

Their rice, jars of vegetables, a cooking pot, towels, and a cutting board bought the radios. The sixteen-coin reward raised her normal balance to ninety-six. Nothing remained from today’s fixed delivery, and she said so before anybody promised a customer ten more.

Saffra’s followers had watched the whole sale. Two asked when Dove would have more goods, and Saffra ordered them back to her chair before Dove could answer. "You’ll regret showing off," she told her.

"Then I’ll regret it indoors," Dove said, closing her hand around the key. "You’re blocking paying customers. Move your chair."

The men carried Saffra toward the guest rooms at the far end of the loading shed. Dove waited until they had turned the corner before her shoulders loosened. Thorne reached for her hand, then waited until she put it in his. She was tired of people deciding where her hands ought to be.

"I’m fine," she told him, then corrected herself because he deserved a real answer. "I’m pissed off, and I don’t want her near our door. Those are different things."

He kissed her palm. Edrik said the woman would need better men before he lost sleep over her, then asked whether Dove still wanted her first lesson. She put down the key and told him to clear some space.

Thorne watched the frontage while Edrik taught her behind the counter. He showed her where to put her feet and how crossing them made it easier to knock her down. He moved slowly, gave blunt corrections, and stopped her from repeating a mistake simply because she disliked admitting it.

"You looked at my face instead of my hand," he said after catching her stumble. "Admire me afterward. Right now, move when I reach."

"You’re very pleased with yourself for a man who just tripped a woman half his size," she said. His laugh earned three unexpected Favor, bringing her to eight hundred thirty. Sprout logged the first session privately; Edrik heard none of it.

Fifteen active minutes also paid three normal coins. Ninety-nine became seventy-one when she bought the twenty-eight-coin cot and gave it to Edrik. He tested the frame behind the counter, then looked at her instead of the comfortable place he finally had to sleep.

"I want you rested," she told him. "Try accepting something without making me defend being nice to you."

"I wasn’t objecting," he said. "I was deciding how much I could get away with thanking you." Thorne laughed from the doorway, and Dove told both men to eat before they became impossible.

Sprout opened the larger food shelf as the radio mission cleared. Tomorrow’s preview showed full meal boxes. Before she could celebrate, a young follower from Saffra’s wagons slipped a note onto the counter, asking whether women here were allowed to refuse returning a man who had already chosen to leave.