Page 152 of The Ranger

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Markhel staredat the back door and tried to keep his body from shaking. Vale, Makama, and the others had him up half the night, trying to teach him how to properly woo Maida. But he knew deep down that he didn’t have time for all that. If his guess was right, he had mere days to complete the bond and join. What they talked about would take weeks even months to accomplish.

The couples used examples from their own courtships as they tried to explain what Maida needed. His head was so full of their suggestions and stories that he finally had to excuse himself and go hide in his room. Only Vale and Makama understood, and they had more time to work with than he did at this point. In fact, he was beginning to wonder if he had any time at all. She could sing her final Call in the next couple of days, and when she did, would she accept his answer? She could still reject him, and then that would be that. He’d last a day or two, perhaps a little longer, then be dead. No one knew if she would come to harm, she was different. It would help if they knew what sort of Muiraran had managed to slip into Major’s family tree. It had to have been a very powerful one.

He looked longingly at the back porch, but Maida hadn’t come out yet.

“There, there, child,” Grandma soothed. “You’ll get this.”

“Wise one...” he looked at her. “I... I am not so sure.” Indeed, he was weak today, and knew he needed to feed, yet he had no desire to expend power. In fact, he wasn’t sure he had anyto expend. The upside was, he wasn’t tense or on edge. Instead, he was relaxed, but that made him unawares, and open to attack. He didn’t like that, but couldn’t help what was happening.

“Maida...”

“What about her?” Grandma asked.

“She does not wish to see me.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “She is still inside.”

“Now, don’t you worry about a thing.” Grandma patted his broad chest. “Mary’s in there with her. She’ll tell her a thing or two to make that girl think. Why don’t you come help us put up the decorations? Mary will bring Maida along after a bit, and then you’ll be near her.”

Markhel closed his eyes. “I am... growing weak.” He forced his eyes open.

“Hmmm, sounds like your hearts are doing something. When were Vale and Makama getting here?”

“After Makama is done feeding. Perhaps I should have gone with them.”

She patted his chest again. “You’ll be fine. And if you get hungry, then we’ll take care of you.”

His eyebrows shot up at that as she steered him toward the barn. He could just imagine what a wrestling match with the four elderly couples would look like.

Markhel concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other as he trudged to the barn. Doc and Wilfred were placing a few pieces of lumber they’d brought onto a couple of sawhorses from the Cookes’ barn.

The closer he got to them, the heavier his heart became, and he wondered if he was too far from Maida. Would he last the day? Would she?

“Son, you don’t look so good,” Doc commented when he reached them. “Grandma? Where’s Maida?”

“She’s in the house with Mary. They’ll be along.” Grandma took a good look at Markhel. “Now when Maida gets here, you do just what we told you. Talk about the dance, be pleasant, and get her to talk about herself. Ask her questions. She has to know you’re interested.”

He took a deep breath, hoping it would give him a little more energy, and nodded.

He helped the men with a few things before he spied Mary and Maida crossing the barnyard.

His eyes locked on Maida as she approached, and he felt better just looking at her. Proximity was now a factor. If he got too far from her, he’d be in trouble. Should he explain to her what he was going through? Hmmm, maybe not. She had no memory of half of what had happened between them so far.

He sighed at the thought as Maida and Mary reached the barn.

“There you are,” Polly said. She was painting a huge paper flower yellow. “Maida, would you like to help me?” She nodded at a stack of paper flowers piled on a chopping block.

“You can use the table here,” Wilfred said. “Markhel, you can help her.”

That was his cue. He tried not to shuffle his feet as he made his way to the worktable they’d set up. The energy the mere sight of her brought was fading fast. In fact, he was growing so weak, he feared closing his eyes. He had to blink to chase away the oblivion trying to claim him and yawned to cover up the struggle.

“Tired?” Maida asked.

Her voice was monotone. That could mean several things. He forced a smile. “It was a late night.”

She looked at him, then at the small cans of paint Irene was setting out on the table. She reached for a small paint brush. “So, we’re painting flowers.”

“It would seem so.” He stood on one side of the table, Maida the other. She looked away, and he wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. She didn’t seem to be expressing any emotion which meant she was either still upset with him and trying not to react to anything he might do or say, or her heart was preparing itself for its final Call. He had to work fast.

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