Page 14 of Smart@ss Cyborg

“I assume you can accurately count the local tender?” I ask.

My announcement or my question slows her tears, which settles something in me. “Local tender?” she asks.

I tip my head to indicate the saddlebag, my arms full of my things. “The local money. Can you count it? I’ve done extensive studying, but I’m afraid I don’t understand it.” I throw a scowl at Paco. “The liverystable tried to help me, but I left there more confused than when I started.”

Something flutters over the woman’s face. “You asked the livery stable to help you with your money?”

I nod. “When I paid for him.” I jerk my head at Paco. “I told the livery man manning the barn that I wasn’t confident in my skills and asked him to confirm if I’d counted the tender correctly. He informed me that I hadn’t and made the adjustment, but when I asked him to explain it to me, I left more confused than ever.”

To my surprise, the woman takes a step toward me. When she glances down at her feet, it’s clear she’s surprised herself too. She raises her head and meets me square in the eye. “Back up and I’ll look.”

I do as she says.

Slowly, watching me warily, she scoots around me and peeks into the saddlebag.

What she sees makes her hands fall from her middle. “Oh my GOSH!”

“Is it a great deal like I thought?” I ask, thinking I’ve guessed correctly but needing to confirm.

“There’s got to be—” She breaks off and turns to look back at me, eyes assessing.

I nod to the chestnut. “Is the other saddlebag empty? I’d like to put away my things.”

“Umm,” she says, staring up at me. “Let me check.”

While she does that, the horse shifts its weight onto its other hip, raising one of its rear hooves and pressing down on its toe. I appreciate its obvious placidity.

Beside me, my holster jerks hard.

Paco’s shaggy head is against my hip and his mouth is firmly locked around the butt of my holstered weapon. He’s trying to pry it off of me.

“Paco, stop.” When this does nothing to deter him, I try reasoning with logic. “If you accidentally trigger that, you’ll harm yourself or someone else. That’s not a wise thing to do.”

He jerks on it again, and I have a look into his bioframework, seeing inside his brain. The area for mischief and curiosity is lit up like it’s on fire.

“It was food,” the woman says, and I look up from inside Paco’s skull activity to find her with her arms full. “I pulled it out so you can put your clothes in. What food won’t fit back inside might fit into the side with the… money.”

Something hopeful crosses her gaze when she says that word. But then she glances down at my side, to my gun, which is visible again only because Paco has dropped his head in favor of reattaching his mouth to my boot.

Pulling away from him, I move for the chestnut’s emptied saddlebag, fill it with my things, and move around the animal to examine what foodstuffs the woman is holding. I shrug at it and explain, “I don’t know what foods I like to eat here, but if you’d fit the most filling options into the pack for me, I’d be obliged. Then I’ll be on my way.”

She looks down at the wrapped bundles in her arms. And then she raises her gaze to mine, like she’s… measuring me, I think. “Would you like to…” A tear slips down her cheek, and I tense, not prepared for her to start crying again. “Like to stay here? With… us?”

I feel the skin on either side of my nose bunch in distaste. “With dead bodies?”

“No,” she chokes out, and then she turns and busies herself with filling the money saddlebag with the food items that she can fit into it. One round item doesn’t fit, and she holds it between her hands when she turns back to look up at me again. Biting her lip, she gestures at her stomach. “With me and our—our… my baby.” Her eyes pool with yet more saline-scented liquid.

“For how long?” I ask, glancing up at the sky, noting the position of the sun. “I’d really prefer to find lodging before dark—”

“You could marry me,” she blurts.

CHAPTER 5

I stare at her.

Her hands fidget, worrying each other hard. “My husband and I—” Her breath saws out of her for a moment, her mouth working and her chest hitching hard before she can finish. “We just bought this house.” She gestures behind herself, to the shanty, hand trembling. “And I don’t know what you know about this place, but here on Traxia, everything a widow owns transfers to the next man she marries. And no woman is a widow for long, if you know what I mean.” She looks up at me, her eyes glossy and wet and round with fear. Her mouth twists. “The first man who sees me out here alone will…”

I’m struck with fascination as her brain suddenly washes with fear chemicals, so powerful that it momentarily eclipses the pathways around her head.

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