Smitten By the Alien Saloon Owner (Cowboy Colony Mail-Order Brides #7)

Chapter 1 Rivven

RIVVEN

“Say cheese!” cried Tasha, the human-Zabrian liaison, as she raised her data tab to take a picture.

She was no longer simply a human-Zabrian liaison, though.

She was also Warden Tenn’s wife. I had been there for their wedding.

We all had. It had taken place right here, on the property of my saloon.

Her husband, Warden Tenn, stood just behind her now, his purple arms crossed over the clean fabric of his warden’s uniform.

There was no doubt in my mind that if I did not comply with his tiny human wife’s command, then he would find a way to make me do it.

I had no real reason not to listen to her, even if I did not quite understand her motivations yet.

“Cheese,” I said, mystified.

“Oh. Shoot.” She lowered her data tab. “I didn’t account for the translation difference. That really didn’t pull your mouth into the shape I was hoping for.”

“What shape were you hoping for?”

Whatever she wanted, no matter how unnatural, I would find a way to do it.

This project was an important one. Tasha was taking our pictures in order to share more about us with the human population at large.

Essentially, she was advertising our availability as worthwhile husbands.

Our status as convicted murderers, exiled to this distant ranching outpost planet, was a heavy strike against us.

Tasha hoped to help prospective human brides see past our status as criminals.

She had told us several times that many human women would find us attractive enough to give us a chance at getting to know them.

I only hoped that she was right.

“I was just looking for a smile,” Tasha explained. “But don’t worry about it, Rivven. How about you just go about your normal routine? Pretend we aren’t here.”

Pretend they were not here? That would be difficult, considering the fact that the dining room of my saloon currently housed Warden Tenn and Tasha, as well as the men from my own province.

Warden Hallum stood straight-spined behind a table where Dorn and Xennet were currently seated, awaiting their own photoshoots.

“My normal routine,” I echoed uncertainly.

I did not see what would be so attractive about me polishing glasses or butchering bracku.

But I also had to admit that Tasha would know much more about human women and their preferences than I would.

I scooped an empty glass onto the blunt, scarred end of my right wrist. Then, I grasped a rag in my left – and only – hand, rubbing it over the glass.

I was aware of Tasha moving throughout the space with her data tab, presumably taking pictures with it as I stood somewhat awkwardly behind the counter.

“How about you come on out and do that here?” Tasha suggested, tapping a spot on the floor in front of her with her foot. “Then I’ll get your legs in the shot. The boots really do look great in the photos.”

“And do something interesting with your tail,” Warden Tenn piped up as I walked around the counter to the place Tasha had indicated. “Human females appreciate the power of a prehensile tail.”

“Tenn!” Tasha gasped. She sounded offended, or maybe embarrassed. I did not know her well enough to tell.

“Do…Do they not appreciate a tail?” I asked.

Humans did not have tails. Maybe that meant I should merely keep mine hidden behind me for now, looped around its belt hook. Perhaps, once a human woman liked my photo enough to choose me, I could reveal that part of my anatomy to her.

“No! No, it’s not that!” Tasha said hurriedly. “Tenn was just making a very inappropriate comment.”

She narrowed her eyes at her husband while he smirked. If she had been Zabrian, I had no doubt her eyes would be glowing bright white with irritation at whatever transgression Warden Tenn seemed to be guilty of.

“I’m trying not to objectify them too much!” she added on a hiss aimed at her husband. What the blazes that meant was anyone’s guess.

It seemed I was not the only one in ignorance.

“What does that mean?” Dorn asked.

Tasha’s cheeks were very red now.

“I just mean…I don’t want to reduce you down to anything, er, degrading. I want to make sure to showcase you as people, not just parts!”

“Of course they are people,” Warden Tenn said in a brisk, matter-of-fact tone. “They are people with tails. And those tails can do some very beneficial things. Especially when slipped inside a-”

“Stop!” Tasha squawked. “Stop now!”

“I do not mind being an object if it gets me a wife,” Xennet said. He stood and stepped in front of the table, then bent his knees at right angles, squatting with his arms out. “Here. I present myself as a chair. Take a picture, Tasha! Show the human females I could be a chair for them.”

“Oh, Xennet,” she said. “That’s not-”

“He likely will not leave that position until you do it,” Warden Hallum said.

With a resigned little sigh and a shake of her head, Tasha raised her data tab briefly, then lowered it again.

“Good,” Xennet said, finally straightening up. “Now, any human female can see that she will never lack a place to sit while I am around! A clear indication that I can provide her with any comfort, chair-like or otherwise!”

“Very helpful,” Tasha said in a strangled sort of tone. “Thank you Xennet.”

But apparently, he was not finished.

“What about this?” He extended his arms above his head, smacking the palms of his hands together until his entire body was stretched to a green-skinned, purple-haired point. “Now I am a knife!”

“I…I don’t know if that’s necessarily a selling point,” Tasha said doubtfully.

To which Xennet replied, “Nonsense! A knife is a very useful thing!” He lowered his hands, his eyes suddenly gone bright white. “Make sure that you include some of my many knives in my final picture! I would not wish my future wife to think I did not have one! Or several!”

“We’re trying to make them see how normal and non-violent you are,” Warden Hallum said, his tone like ice.

“You’re going to look insane,” Dorn added bluntly. “More insane than you already are. Actually, maybe Tasha should do it. Photograph you in front of your entire collection of blades. Might as well make sure the poor female who chooses you knows what she’s in for.”

“Have you got any knives on you now, Xennet?” I asked, eyeing a bulge in his right boot with sudden suspicion.

“No,” he said, even while he shifted that boot behind the leg of the table.

Frowning, I kept my glass where it was and used my tail to jab at one of the signs hanging behind the counter. “You know the rules.” I pointed again with my tail and noticed Tasha raise her data tab to take a picture.

Like usual, Xennet made a scoffing remark about how he could not read my signs. Of all of us, he had been convicted and pulled from his education at the youngest age.

“I know you’ve got them memorized,” I countered. I certainly reminded him of the rules often enough. Rules that also included things such as Keep your trousers on and No pissing in the glasses.

“No, I don’t!” he replied. Then immediately added, “Besides, the sign says ‘no brandishing weapons inside,’ and I have brandished nothing. Nothing beyond my own body’s ability to take on the quality of any object a human female may require.

Look, Tasha! Take a picture of this!” He flopped down onto the floorboards, lying flat on his back. “Now I am a bed!”

“A bed with a knife in it,” Dorn muttered.

“I think I’ll just focus on Rivven for now,” Tasha said kindly.

She really did have astonishingly generous stores of patience in her, even for idiots like Xennet.

Xennet, who’d shown up at her wedding with a fistful of wood lice ready to throw upon her head because he’d misunderstood the human wedding tradition involving something called “rice.”

The fact that I’d prepared a tray of ice to throw at her was not at all relevant.

Lice were obviously worse.

“Should I just keep doing this?” I asked, raising the glass I was polishing. I could not help but feel that I was somehow failing already. But then again, was there really anything I could do to prove myself a worthy husband to a pretty human woman?

Tasha seemed to think so. Even though I was not entirely convinced.

“Here,” she said, coming over to stand beside me and holding her data tab in front of the both of us. “Want some inspiration? These are the pictures I’ve taken of the men in Warden Tenn’s province.

She slid the pad of her clawless finger along the screen, scrolling through images of men I’d never met. “There’s Silar, Fallon, Garrek, Oaken.” She rhymed off their names as she swiped. By this time, both Dorn and Xennet had crept over to examine the images as well.

“They all have very nice hair,” Dorn grumbled under his breath.

He fingered the choppy ends of his own brownish-red strands with an air of self-conscious jealousy.

Back in the summer, his hair had gotten caught upon a bracku’s antlers.

In order to avoid getting gored, he’d hacked off his hair with a knife.

The result was a very short, ugly style that, even after growing all this time, still barely reached past his shoulders.

Better his hair than his hand...

“Sure,” Tasha said in response. “But don’t worry, Dorn. Long hair isn’t a universally attractive thing for humans. Lots of humans have very short hair. Or no hair at all.”

“None at all?” Dorn asked, thunderstruck.

I was hardly any less surprised. I looked at Dorn and Xennet and tried to picture them without any hair, their scalps smooth as eggs.

I doubted even Xennet, who was undoubtedly an exceptionally good-looking male, could pull it off.

But Tasha only nodded, her expression sincere.

“Yup, absolutely. Sometimes people shave it off. Or the hair thins out over time due to age or hormones or medication.” She lifted and let her shoulders fall, a uniquely human gesture. “It’s really not a big deal at all.”