Page 67 of Rescued By the Alien Bull Rider

“Because youcando this,” Zohro growled, so fiercely it made me stop crying for a second. I hiccupped pathetically. He turned from me and left the room, and as he went he said, “And for the things you cannot do, that is when you turn to me.”

I stood alone in our bedroom, tearstained and tired, holding onto Autumn and wondering where the hell my husband had gone. He had to be at the end of his rope, too. He’d gotten even less sleep than me the past few days, between baby stuff and ranch stuff. Maybe my tears were just too much on top of all the newborn crying he’d already been subjected to.

But that couldn’t be right, because only a few minutes later I heard him barrelling back into the house. He came through the bedroom doorway at an awkward angle, veiny pink arms straining to bring something through it without banging it on the doorframe. When he was finally inside the room, he turned fully towards me and set down…

The most beautiful cradle I’d ever seen.

It was made of solid wood, sanded and stained to immaculate, glossy perfection. It was rectangular in shape, with spaced bars on the two long sides like a crib and a perfectly-fitted little mattress that looked like it had a snug sheet made from the same material as my new pyjamas. Zohro pushed against it, and it rocked with a rhythmic smoothness that was entirely soundless.

“When did you make this?!” I asked, stunned that he’d pulled out an entire piece of furniture like a rabbit from a hat.

“When I wasn’t fixing the wagon,” he replied.

I stepped towards it. The solid headboard of the cradle has something carved into it. It looked like animals, standing in a row. I bent lower to get a better look.

“Are thosehorses?”

But even as I asked the question, I knew they were. Not bracku. Not shuldu.

Horses.

“Yes,” Zohro said. “One of the documents in the collection of medical literature Tasha sent contained information on common childhood injuries. There were illustrations of human domestic life, and one of them showed a farm with a human family and their horses.”

“But… But why would you carve horses into the cradle?”

That had to have just been extra work for him when he already had so much to do.

“Because I know you love them.”

And that had me weeping all over again, which left my poor husband very perturbed indeed.

“What is wrong with it?” he growled, staring at the cradle with accusations in his eyes. “It is not supposed to make you cry more of your human tears! Tell me what it is, and I will fix it.”

“Don’t you dare change a thing! It’s perfect!” I sniffed back snot, lowering Autumn onto the flat mattress. Hands free, I finally wiped at my face. When I was done, I found Zohro bend over the cradle, his huge palm gently cupping the top of Autumn’s fluffy head.

“I’ll never understand,” he murmured, his eyes casting a white glow, like the softest drift of starlight, onto Autumn’s face.

“Never understand what?”

“How your Pa could have had you when you were as small as this,” he said quietly. “How he could have watched you sleep. Held you as I have held her. After all that… I will never understand how he could have possibly let you go.”

29

ZOHRO

Autumn very quickly decided that sleeping for long stretches at night was not something that she was at all interested in. And this would have been no problem, as I could function on far less sleep than Jolene. Except for the fact that Jolene was adamant about exclusively breastfeeding. Which meant that, no matter how many times I woke to help in whatever way I could – fetching Jolene food and copious amounts of water, or changing diapers (often back-to-back, as Autumn’s favourite time to defecate was apparently immediately upon receiving a fresh, clean garment upon her bottom) – Jolene still had to be awake, too.

Thus, the first days of Autumn’s life passed in a blur of wakeful nights and foggy days.

I would not have changed it for anything.

The end of the marriage trial period came and went. Jolene did not remark upon it. Did not tell me she’d decided to leave me after all.

And my relief at that was immense. To lose her now, and to lose Autumn too…

It was entirely unthinkable to me. The protective, possessive instinct I’d felt for Jolene since the first night I saw her had only strengthened tenfold, and grown to include her daughter, whom I now secretly considered my daughter, too.

Jolene did not kiss me again, though I fantasized about it near-constantly.

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