Page 17 of Her Golden Heart

Finally he unwraps himself and takes a step back. He takes the old shirt in my hand and kneels in front of me. He carefully cleans me up as I stand there. Neither of us says a word. It happens in silence but it’s perfect. So, incredibly, perfect.

When he finishes he pulls me closer and again he holds me. His head on my chest while his tail rises behind and encircles me. I’m looking down on his luscious hair. I run my hands through it silently.

“We go,” he murmurs against my chest.

“Yes,” I agree.

And just like that we both rise and put on our clothes. I assist in tearing down the tent and he does all the packing. He gets out a leather wrap and gives me some smoked meat. It’s tough, but tasty and filling. I chew each piece for a really long time. We’re mounted and on our way and I’m still working on my third and final piece.

We never said anything more. He didn’t argue or disagree but his actions told me all I needed to know. We are going to be together. And the hole in my chest disappears with the certainty that I’ve found love. Late though it might be in my life, I’ve found a man who will love me more and better than even I have known.

What a beautiful thing. The entire world seems brighter. Fresh and new. The suns' rays dazzle across the sands. It looks like we’re crossing a field of diamonds. Even the air smells fresher, the heat seems less oppressive. Heck, even the guster is somehow less terrifying and more of a big, almost cuddly lizard. If not for the spikes of course.

The creatures make a swaying motion as they trot across the desert that lulls me into a sense of peace. Mohlad and I occasionally make small talk as we ride, but mostly we travel in silence. Comfortable and easy. He asks questions about the kids and I regale him with story after story all of which he listens to as if enraptured. The way his eyes dance and the smile on his face lifts my heart even further.

“Family,” he says after one of my stories.

The suns are dropping back to the horizon having passed all the way overhead. We ate while continuing the journey and he gave me more of the epis plant. I don’t know if it’s truly magical or not, but I do feel better than I have since crashing here.

“Yes,” I say, nodding then a doubt swims through my happiness. “Are you okay with that?”

“Family?” he asks, tilting his head to the side. “Yours?”

“Yes,” I nod.

He guffaws. It’s a loud, unexpected sound that honestly startles me. I accidentally jerk on the reins to my guster and it jerks its head up and then tosses it side to side in protest. It tries to buck but I squeeze my legs and it seems to settle it down.

“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head. He reaches over and pats the guster on the side of its head which seems to mollify it further. “Family, want.” He pats his chest. “Much want.”

A smile forms on my face that becomes so wide my jaws hurt.

“You’re okay with this?” I ask, needing to be sure.

I’m not a woman without baggage. I have a family. A damn big one here on Tajss. Most of the survivors don’t have anyone. Angota and Riley with their one baby, Nadia, are one of the biggest families among us. Thinking of this reminds me of how fortunate I am to have all of mine with me. The fact that we all survived is a miracle.

“Much,” Mohlad says, nodding solemnly. “Dreamed of, wanted, always.”

“Well you pulled that in for sure,” I agree. “I’ve got plenty.”

“Want more?” he asks with a quizzical look on his face.

No. Hell no.

Was my first and immediate thought but I don’t voice it. This could be the crux of the relationship. I’m old and I went through menopause several years ago so I don’t think I’m even capable of having more kids if I did want to. Will this be the deal breaker?

Disappointment fills my head and thoughts, but I have to face this too. There is no denying the truth, no matter how much I might like to continue in my rose-colored view of the world, but that would be living a lie.

“Honestly?”

“Please, yes,” he says. “Okay.”

“I’m not sure,” I say. “Human females, we go through… a change…,” how to explain that? “our bodies stop the ability to have babies at a certain age. I’m past that.”

“Okay,” he says, shrugging with a cheerful air of nonchalance.

“Okay?” I arch an eyebrow while frowning in his direction.

“Okay,” he nods. “Family much is. Okay is. Good is.”

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