Page 36 of Roping Her Alien Ranchers

The largest one—the purple creature who’d sprayed that ink at me—was physically imposing in a way that seemed almost deliberately intimidating. Its tentacles were perfectly proportioned, its movements graceful despite its bulk. Next to it, the blue green one made only minute movements, its keen eyes studying every inch of the stable’s interior. There was so much intelligence in its silvery eyes.

The third alien, with its constantly shifting earthy colors, caught my attention with its strange, uneven movements. One of its tentacles, its tip covered in a small leather-like sheath, hung awkwardly at its side. It twitched occasionally and was markedly shorter than the rest.

The way all their appendages moved, undulating in different directions, made it seem like each tentacle had its own innate intelligence.

“Okay,” I breathed out, “some ground rules. Six feet away at all times, like you three have a horrible, highly communicable disease. No coming into my house unless I invite you, which isn’t likely. If I think, even for a second, that you guys are going to hurt me or my horses, then I’ll kill you.”

Sure, that last one was an empty threat, but they didn’t need to know that.

"We have no plans to hurt you," the blue purple one responded and, now that we were inside a building that usually echoed a bit, I realized that his words had fallen flat. They weren’t actually speaking English; they were still gurgling like they were underwater. Subconsciously, my hand drifted to the little crescent on my neck. It was sort of amazing.

"That's tantamount to 'we come in peace,'" I finally said, shaking my head. "I've seen this movie before. Aliens always say they're harmless right before they blow up the White House."

Their bodies flashed and rippled.

“Is that a way you talk too?” I pointed at them, indicating the shifting patterns and flickers of brightness.

“Yes,” the lavender one verified.

“That’s rude,” I mumbled, crossing my arms over my body. “It’s like gossiping about someone to their face, but in a foreign language. No more flashlight morse code. That’s another rule.”

“Human, we seek only survival and repair capabilities.” This from the blue-green one.

“My name is Tammy, not human.” I paused, thinking. “Actually, that’s a good place to start. Do you have names? Ones I might be able to pronounce? If they sound like—” I made a bunch of exaggerated, moist pops with my mouth— “Then I’m probably just going to call you guys E.T. One, Two, and Three.”

They said nothing, so I stared at them, trying to imagine cowboy hats atop their bulbous heads, tentacles shoved into boots, plaid shirts somehow fitted over their rippling bulk. Though, maybe they’d just contort into a human enough shape to fit into pants and such. Their platinum eyes were fixed in my direction, reflecting warped, fun-house versions of me. Their strange, alien cologne saturated the small space, making my glands send forth mini bursts of Omega perfume.

My mind still spun, earlier confusion whirling in my head, renewed adrenaline coursing through my veins as the morning light spilled into the stables, illuminating the shimmering colors of their skin.

“So,” I said to fill the silence, “do you have names or are we going with my brilliant suggestions?” I asked. They didn’t respond. “Do you know what a name is? What your family named you when you were born. What your friends call you. A name.”

I clamped my mouth shut to keep myself from rambling longer.

“Names?” The lavender one tilted its head, its skin shimmered, catching light, as if someone had dumped a bucket full of glitter over its head.

This is the alien skin of a tentacled killer, Tammy.

“Yes, a name. What can I call you,” I explained, trying to keep my impatience in check. If talking to them was still this difficult with the translators, we stood a snow’s chance in hell of having any meaningful dialogue. “Like—” I pressed my palm to my chest— “I’m Tammy. Shout that, and I’ll come running. And if I want to get your attention, I can say…” I let my voice fade away, hoping they’d get it or I just might scream.

More colors rippled across their surfaces—who knew color could have so much personality? The blue green one stepped forward, tentacles swaying like seaweed in an ocean current.

“I am Cyro.” The words emanated from the crescent device on my neck, yet somehow, I felt as if he were speaking directly into my mind.

“Great!” I clapped my hands, struggling to contain the slight tremor in my fingers. “Awesome start. So, we have Cyro here…” I looked over at the alien, whose skin was a wild whirl of russet browns and autumnal red, and raised an eyebrow. “And you are?”

“I am Kalith,” it responded.

“Okay,” I said slowly, pointing at the purple creature. “Cyro—” I shifted my hand to indicate the reddish-brown one— “Kalith. I like your names.”

My gaze roved over to the third alien, its skin mottled with blues and greens. I waited, wondering what the sudden sparks of yellow light interrupting the Earth-colored expanse of its body meant. When my patience had nearly worn out, he finally spoke.

“Vantor.” The name rolled into my mind, deep and melodic, sounding like it was carried on a gentle wave, rolling straight off the blue of its skin.

“Vantor,” I smiled at him, “I like that.”

Small fireworks exploded across its skin, as if it understood my statement for what it was: approval.

The air in the stable suddenly became so scented it was stifling. Our four chemistries became tangled together, creating a brand-new aroma that made me simultaneously so relaxed that I wanted to nap, and achingly aroused. Jesus, I didn’t even know if they were male. Well, I was pretty sure at least one of them was male after glimpsing that singular, hardened protrusion before it shifted sideways to block my view.