A stop for groceries

Trace thought over the end of the conversation he'd heard between his family and Anaisa. Her brief rendition of her childhood was much more than he'd learned so far, but it fit in with everything else he knew of her.

The couple walked outside together, and Anaisa received hugs and farewells from his family.

All in all, the first meeting had gone even better than he'd hoped. His mother and sister accepted her wholeheartedly, not treating her strangely because of the way she'd become his wife.

Anaisa scrambled up onto the wagon seat again, and Trace ignored his mother's frown.

He wasn't being unmannerly on purpose, but his wife seemed to be unusually hesitant to touch him. He didn't think anything of it at first, but she'd shaken hands with his father and brother easily enough.

And still, she didn't wait for him to help her up onto the wagon. It was becoming harder to believe the avoidance wasn't personal in nature. These things took time; he hoped that was all it was.

He climbed up beside her and snapped the reins, sending the horses on their way toward town as he waved a final goodbye to his family.

"They liked you," He smiled at Anaisa, and she hesitated before smiling back.

"I liked them," She replied softly. "That was helpful, thank you."

"You mean you have enough clothes now?" He looked back toward the bag he'd stashed in the rear.

"That wasn't what I was referring to," She frowned, appearing to go deeper into thought. "Although they were very generous in that regard. I suppose it's not quite charity when they are family."

"I forgot how much you hate charity," He suppressed a grin as he remembered how her eyes had flashed at him in the inn weeks ago. She'd been extremely reticent to accept his offer of the room.

"Should I apologize for how I spoke to you in the city?" She asked suddenly, "I don't remember everything I said back then. So much has happened since."

"You didn't lose your temper, though I could tell you wanted to," Trace teased, "But I'm curious. If you weren't talking about the clothes being helpful, what was helpful about the visit?"

He tried not to show any trepidation about her answer. Had his mother tried to give Anaisa some version of the talk his father had given him? Trace's face reddened at the thought. He hoped his wife had not been made too uncomfortable.

"I understand you a little better now," Anaisa responded, surprising him a great deal.

"Oh?" He fished for more detail from her.

"Yes." She said cryptically, and left it at that.

"I'm fairly burning with curiosity, and you're not going to expand on that, even a little?" He raised one eyebrow.

"I'm not sure how to. You just make a little more sense to me now that I have seen the family you came from."

"I see." He mused. "I wonder if I will feel the same after meeting your sister."

Anaisa sat up a little straighter, but he couldn't tell what she was feeling. Excitement? Nervousness?

"My family had much of what we needed, so mostly we'll stock up on basic food stores, I think," He frowned. "I don't know what you're used to cooking, so I'll let you take lead on what sorts of things we need."

"Simple foods," Anaisa's hands clenched slightly on her dress. "I never had much time to learn anything too complicated."

"What I ate at the inn was wonderful, as well as dinner last night," Trace tried to ease her mind.

"Katia did most of the cooking at the inn," Her mouth twisted slightly and he sensed her anxiety rising again.

"We'll go see if we can find her as soon as we're done shopping," He assured her. "I'll ask the shopkeeper where Jin's house is; I don't recall which one is his."

Anaisa's shoulders relaxed slightly, and she nodded.

"She must be younger, for you to worry about her so much," He observed, but she shook her head.

"No, she's a year older, but much sweeter and quieter, so people usually believe she's the younger." Anaisa corrected.

"Quieter than you? I could hardly pry a word out of you at first," Trace eyed her.

"My sharp tongue gets me into trouble, so I try to keep it to myself when I'm able." Anaisa pressed her lips together with the admission. "I didn't want to make an immediate poor impression."

Trace wanted to laugh, but he could see she was perfectly serious. She deserved a serious response.

"Just act the way you would normally," He encouraged. "What's the use of getting to know each other if we're not actually getting to know who we are?"

"And if you don't like who I am?" Anaisa challenged, her eyes sparking at him.

"We'll deal with that if it happens, but somehow I don't think it's likely," Trace responded evenly.

His wife blinked at him before her eyebrows scrunched together. "I was wrong, I'm not sure I understand you better at all."

This time Trace did laugh, heartily and loudly enough to startle the horses. "I don't mean to be confusing."

"Hm." Anaisa seemed unconvinced, which amused him further.

After a time, they reached the edge of town, and people who recognized Trace began to look at the couple curiously. Perhaps some of them had seen the bridal wagons come through yesterday, because he caught glimpses of gossips whispering and looking at them pointedly.

Should he stop and introduce her to everyone he knew? That would be incredibly time-consuming. There had to be a better way to let everyone know that the woman with him was indeed his wife. He didn't want other men in town thinking she might be available to court. Maybe he should buy her a–

He glanced down at her hand and gasped. A delicate gold wedding ring graced her finger. Trace was too surprised to comment on it, but Anaisa must have noticed the scrutiny, because she laid one hand atop the other and stroked the band with her fingertips.

"Your mother gave it to me to wear. If you would prefer that I give it back–" She said softly.

"No!" He said a little too loudly before lowering his voice, "No, not at all. I just didn't think of getting you a ring until just now, but it seems she beat me to it."

"So you have no objection to me wearing it?" Anaisa looked at him warily as she spoke, apparently ready to assess his reaction.

No. He had none. In fact, it pleased him more than he realized it would. The prospect of taking her out and showing her off to the town as his wife filled him with a strange sort of pride.

"It makes me glad that you are not ashamed to be known as my wife," He finally said.

"It's you who would be ashamed of me," She countered.

"That is unlikely," He shrugged and said nothing further until they arrived at the store.

Pulling the wagon to a stop, he got down while she followed. They received even more curious glances, and he was tempted to take Anaisa's hand, or offer his arm, or some other gesture to further stake his claim on the beautiful woman with him.

However, he wasn't sure how she'd react. How terrible would it be for her to reject the gesture? He would be hurt and embarrassed in front of everyone, and he didn't want a precedent of offering affection merely for show, either.

Trace very much wanted anything between them to be genuine, as it was far too quickly becoming on his side.

Or was it too quickly? They were married, after all.

Inside the store, Anaisa asked for very modest amounts of flour, oil, rice, beans, and, after some contemplation, honey.

"Are you sure that's enough?" He didn't want to interfere with her shopping, but he felt compelled to ask. "There's too much work on the farm to get to town for shopping too often, so buy enough to last through the winter."

Autumn was in full force, and winter snows made trips to town hazardous. It was best to stock up now instead of counting on being able to later.

"Through the whole winter??" Anaisa's eyes nearly bulged out of her head. "I can't even calculate how much that would be!"

He scratched the back of his head. "Well, I know in the city you probably had the convenience of going to market every day, but that's not too much of an option on a farm in winter. I can show you how much I would buy for myself, and then we can double it? Though I doubt you eat as much as I do."

His wife looked like she was having trouble understanding his words, so reluctantly, he told the shopkeeper how much to measure out, and then watched as the man began filling a large sack of flour.

A slight tug on his sleeve made him glance again at Anaisa.

She looked as if she might faint.