Page 14 of Buck Wild Orc Cowboy (Brides of the Lonesome Creek Orcs #3)

I let the words settle. Searched them for meaning and found truth in them.

“Don’t chase her. Let her walk the fence line, but make sure she knows you're waiting at the end.”

I clutched the top rail and stared out at the horizon. “It’d be easier if this was a regular mating, not one sanctioned by the fates. But it’s not. She feels right. If I lost her, I wouldn’t ever feel right in my soul.”

Hail paused, clearly thinking, forming his words with care. “I understand. You loved Challa. No one will ever think anything else.”

“I did.” It still hurt to think of her and our youngling. It always would.

Hail stood beside me, quiet for a bit. The silence settled my bones.

“I’ve known battle,” I finally said. “Hardship. But this…” My voice cracked, and I couldn’t finish. My throat was too tight.

He nudged my arm. “You won’t lose her, Sel. Not if you’re careful. Not if you believe she’s worth the wait.”

I nodded once. My mind was already cliks ahead, planning how I could take his advice and turn it into something she’d notice.

Hail brushed grass from his knees. His expression went oddly serious. “You could watch the streaming images. Dungar thinks we should.”

I blinked. “Have you?”

He shrugged. “A few. The Wild West ones with horses and rolling plains. Cowboys and fine little ladies wearing long dresses. Riding with her into the sunset.”

“Physically into it? Impossible.”

He frowned. “I think it means to look at the sunset from the back of a sorhox. Horse in their case. Don’t forget the ones where the guy fights off bandits and wins the woman with honor.”

My ears heated. “Are you sure they could work?” I scratched the back of my neck.

“Dungar says they love that stuff. They call behavior like that romantic.”

“Romantic?” The word sounded strange in my mouth.

“The loyal male who protects, asks for nothing, who never wavers in his dedication to her? That could be you.”

“I’m pretty sure most streaming images end in burning buildings or shootouts.”

“Only some.” His face shifted again as he studied me. “Be honest with her. Not about the bond, but about you. Do it like the lead in those old streaming images. She’ll see. That’s how you win her heart.”

The ground might’ve tilted under my boots. “Thanks.” The word thudded in my chest and stayed there.

I truly did appreciate his advice.

He nodded and went back to his fence work, already moving to the break I'd noted a short distance away.

I climbed onto Zist's back and turned him toward the road. We moved slowly, his hooves thudding out a pace that let my thoughts catch up. I had too many. They stacked up inside me until even breathing took effort. I tried letting the rhythm of Zist’s steps knock some of them loose, but it didn’t help much.

“Streaming images,” I said. “Wild West.”

A male waiting at the edge of town, holding maybe a blasting metal thing—gun? —in one hand and his heart in the other. Hoping the woman he wanted would choose him. I never thought I’d be the type to want something so soft. But when it came to Holly, I wanted it all.

The idea made me grin. It also made my brows furrow. Where did I find these images? Dungar had shared them with us during the classes he taught when we'd just arrived here on the surface. I wish I'd paid more attention.

Maybe one of my brothers' mates knew where to find them. Gracie in particular seemed like the type to know about stuff like that. She was on social media all the time. I’d ask when I got to Greel’s.

Still, it was strange. Was that what women really wanted? Not big speeches, but quiet strength? Romantic. The word felt heavy now, like it had more meaning than I'd ever believed.

Zist snorted as we turned into Greel's driveway. The path curved through tall grass, leading toward the ranch house with a red barn and pasture behind.

My beast slowed without me telling him to.

I slipped off and let him meander over to graze along the fence.

I stood in place for a moment, watching Zist tug at tall blades of grass.

I'd fought beasts in the swamps of Drelmar without flinching, but walking up to ask a group of women how to handle a mate? That made my shoulders feel too wide for my bones. Orcs weren’t taught to ask.

We were taught to endure. But I couldn’t keep bumbling my way through this without guidance.

Feet crunching on gravel, I crossed to the side porch and climbed the steps. I sucked in a deep breath and whooshed it out.

I stood there, letting my hand hover over the wood.

I wasn’t scared of women or their talk, but this next part mattered.

I was going to ask Greel’s mate and the others how to win the heart of a female who didn’t trust easily.

So I rubbed my palm on my pants, knocked twice, and braced myself for them to make suggestions I might or might not like, but I’d listen to with all my heart.

A woman’s voice called from inside. “Come on in!”

My stomach did this weird twist thing that was equal parts pleasant and unsettling.

I opened the door and stepped inside.