Page 17 of Buck Wild Orc Cowboy (Brides of the Lonesome Creek Orcs #3)

Holly

W ith Sel snarling and threatening the men with a sword, the men took off, bolting through the back door of the bakery. Bellowing, Sel followed them. I rushed to the window and watched him give chase, brandishing his sword. It felt good to see him defending me.

And bad because I couldn't defend myself. I'd fallen apart. All the strength I thought I'd built over the past years had collapsed with one mean nudge.

On shaky legs, I walked over to the cooking island and stood there, trembling. I couldn't think of any other place to go. My mind was stunned by what happened, and my teeth kept chattering. The buzzing in my ears hadn’t stopped. My legs wobbled beneath me, but I couldn’t make myself sit.

Sel stepped back inside without his sword, his strength filling the room. Tension filled his face. He looked around, his gaze catching on me.

“Holly,” he said gently. He didn’t rush. Just took slow, quiet steps toward me like someone approaching a baby bird who’d fallen from its nest. I hadn’t noticed my tears until now, but they burned behind my eyes, stubborn and hot.

Sel stopped in front of me and leaned down a little, trying to catch my eyes. He held out his arms. “May I?”

I nodded once, barely, and he pulled me against him.

The warmth. The stillness of him. I hadn't realized how much I needed something like this. My body felt like paper disintegrating in the rain.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled into his chest. “I know they were awful, but I hate this…I hate needing help. I hate how small I felt. I wish… I wish I could’ve fixed this on my own.”

He rubbed up and down my back. “This wasn’t your fault. They shouldn’t have touched you. They shouldn’t have made you feel threatened. You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

His soft voice made everything inside me ache.

I stood there in his embrace for a long time, telling myself I shouldn't need this. Yet I did. Finally, I pulled back enough to look at the front of his shirt. I couldn’t meet his eyes. “I should get back to work.”

Sel didn’t stop me, just nodded. He studied my face and scanned my frame. I hoped he wouldn't look too closely because I didn't want him to see…Well, I also hated how close I'd been to falling apart.

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone.

“I’m calling Dungar,” he said. “He's the local law enforcement.

Town sheriff. It's mostly an honorary title, but he's been granted permission to make sure everyone abides by the rules.

Our treaty states we can enforce our laws on our own territory, and this place is ours.

Yours now, too. No one's going to come near you again.”

I watched while he spoke.

“Two intoxicated men came into the kitchen,” he said in a no-nonsense tone when his brother had picked up. “Past where customers are allowed. They threatened Holly. I chased them off. Warned them. They’re gone for now.”

He was right. They might return.

Or would they? Few were willing to take on someone brandishing a sword, especially someone who appeared to know how to use it.

He hung up and looked back at me. “Dungar will handle it. They’ll be escorted out of town and banned from returning.” His gaze met mine. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

I shook my head and tried to give him a smile, but it felt wrong. It didn’t fit my face right, and I hated that I wasn't sure my smile ever would.

“I'll get back to work. It’ll be a good distraction.” Returning to the counter felt like walking through fog. The dough in front of me looked unfamiliar. One shape. Then another. But my hands didn’t work any better than my face.

My eyes wouldn’t stop tearing. I blinked fast, trying to make them go away, but for each one I beat back, another took its place.

The bell in the front jingled.

Sel glanced in that direction. I didn’t have to say anything. He nodded once and left the kitchen.

As soon as he was gone, my eyes decided it was time to let go. I kept rolling dough, even as my vision blurred, even as I wiped the tears away with my sleeve. I kept folding, even when I couldn’t remember what in the world I was doing.

When Sel came back, I was halfway through forming a tray of croissants.

“Interesting shapes you’ve got going here,” he said, his voice soft, almost playful.

I blinked at what I’d made. “Oh. They, um. Yeah. I'll redo them.”

“Don't worry. We'll market them as chumble croissants. Tourists will be buying them as fast as we can make them.”

I frowned down at them. “I'm not sure they look much like chumbles either.” The ostrich-sized orc “chickens” had pink scales, fangs, and claws, and when I did some research online, I learned I'd be wise to run in the opposite direction if I saw one.

So far, I hadn't, but maybe they didn't wander into town often.

“See?” He pointed to one on the end. “Chumble.”

I still didn't see it, except… A quick breath left my lungs. It might’ve been a laugh.

“I can close the shop for a short time and take you home. You could rest there, spend time with Max instead of pushing through the day.”

Funny how when he said home, I immediately pictured his ranch house. Already, it had turned into a sanctuary for me. A safe place where I could let down my guard. I had my own space, and that was amazing.

The offer sounded nice. I could take a warm bath. A long nap. Max and I could take a walk or sit and read together, something we hadn't done for a long time. I was always working, too busy. Needing money to save and pay our bills. It was expensive to live in Boston.

But leave? I shook my head. “Thanks, but I need to stay. I have to keep going or I’ll… I don’t know. Freeze or something.”

His brow furrowed. “You don’t have to prove anything.”

“I kind of do though,” I pressed another piece of dough into the right shape—this time. No chumble, but I had a feeling the chumble croissants were not going to be the big hit Sel suggested. My voice dipped low, and my hands stilled on the dough. “I thought I was stronger than this.”

Sel didn’t answer right away. That made it worse somehow. Like his silence proved my point.

“All it took was two drunk guys to make me fall apart,” I said.

“They threatened you. Made you feel unsafe.”

“And I let them. In hindsight, there were things I could've done instead of letting them control the situation.”

“Like what?”

“Well…” I wasn't sure, but there must be something. “I folded up, same as this dough. Like the last seven years I spent building myself into a strong person made absolutely no difference. One test, and I snapped.” My throat tightened. “I don’t like that I can collapse so easily.”

Sel leaned against the counter. “Does it matter how small the storm is, if it hits where the wound still exists?”

I didn’t want that to be true. Some days I still pretended the old wounds healed up clean, like scratches. But maybe they didn’t. Maybe I just learned to hide them under sweaters.

“There shouldn't be a wound any longer. Seven years, Sel. I should have been able to shrug it off by now.”

“I think things like that haunt you forever to some extent.”

Was he speaking of his deceased mate and child? Maybe. He carried his own wounds, so he'd know.

I looked at him. That warm, steady look was back in his eyes. Understanding, not pity.

“You held together,” he said simply. “Even when it was hard. That doesn’t make you weak. It makes you real.”

Something eased in my chest. A small thing, but it made space to breathe.

We worked together after that. Croissants began to take shape again along with scones, and though the tremble hadn’t fully left my fingers, Sel’s quiet made me feel safe.

After a while, he paused and glanced my way. “Do you want to learn to defend yourself? I offered the other day.”

I paused mid-fold. “What, you going to get me a sword too?” It came out half-laugh, half-choke.

He didn’t blink. “I could. My brother, Hail, works with metal. Pottery. All sorts of things, actually. But we can ask him to make one your size.”

My mouth opened, then shut. Surprisingly, the thought didn’t scare me. It filled up a corner I hadn’t known was empty.

“I’d like that,” I said. “Not to, like, become some warrior or something.” If I knew how to hold my ground physically, I could stop flinching every time a stranger’s voice sharpened.

My body still hadn’t figured out the war was over, but maybe one day, it would.

“Learning could boost my confidence. Give me techniques I can use if I'm ever in a similar situation.

I assume you mean you'll teach me?” I couldn't look his way, or he'd see how hopeful I was that he would be my teacher.

“I want to do this for you.”

And that made my heart flip over.

“We’ll start tonight. Max too, if he wants.”

I liked that more than I expected. It scared me a little, how much I wanted Sel around. How fast my mind had worked him into our future. Me and Max and Sel, under a big blue sky with no threats in sight.

Max would learn strength beside me. We’d be doing it together.

“Thank you,” I said quietly.

“Of course.”

We worked in a rhythm after that, taking turns handling customers before returning to start getting the bread ready for the next day. He kneaded while I used the industrial mixer. My breathing settled. The sounds of the kitchen soothed me like always.

So did Sel.

I wasn't fine. Not fully. But I wasn’t broken, either. Perhaps it would take more than two jerky guys to defeat me.

Later, while we cleaned, he asked, “Have you seen the streaming image Oklahoma ?”

I glanced up from wiping the counter. Streaming image… “Oh, you mean a movie, the musical?”

He grinned. “Yes.”

“Yeah, a few times,” I said. “My foster mom had this old DVD collection. Musicals, mostly. She watched them on weekends. She'd sing along and try to get me to do it as well.”

Sel set down a tray and leaned against the island. “What's foster care?”

“State-assigned parents, I guess you could say. My parents died in an accident and since I had no relatives who wanted to raise me, I became a ward of the state. They placed me in a foster care home. She was nice. I liked her a lot.” The memory of that little house, the scent of lemon cleaner and popcorn shot through my mind.

“She was one of the good ones. She got sick when I was in high school.

Multiple sclerosis. She deteriorated fast and couldn't be a foster parent anymore.

I was able to finish my last year of school, and I got a job.

I was fortunate to find one in a restaurant with an owner willing to give me training.

I wouldn't be here now, making chumble croissants, if he hadn't.”

“You've had kindness in your life. I'm glad.”

I shrugged. “If only I hadn't met Melvin. Fallen for his slick ways. Slept with him without protection. But I guess if I hadn't, I wouldn't have Max, and I wouldn't trade that for anything, not even if I could skip what happened after.”

His soft growl echoed in the room. “I will kill him. Orc justice is swift and permanent.”

A chill wracked through me. Sel was big. Strong. And clearly good with a sword. But the thought of him challenging Melvin and maybe getting hurt pinched my heart. “Leave him to fate.”

“The fates like it when we help them. Truly, Holly. Believe that.”

“I do. Thank you.” It felt good to have a champion standing by my side. Or between me and the threat, I supposed.

Maybe after I'd learned some self-defense, I could nudge him to my side. That was true empowerment. “Tell me why you asked about the movie—streaming image.”

“I have an idea for something we can do to incorporate the bakery into tourist activities. In Oklahoma , there’s a picnic basket auction scene. We could try something like that in town. Let the tourists join in. Donate the proceeds.”

My brow lifted. “It sounds charmingly chaotic.”

“I’ll donate a basket.”

I smirked. “Oh? And who do you think would bid for it?”

He shrugged. “Probably no one.”

“Yeah, right,” I said. “You’re tall, gorgeous, mysterious. I bet there’ll be plenty of women throwing their money at that basket for a chance to share lunch with you.”

He looked at me sideways, his expression unreadable, except for the twitch at the corner of his mouth. “That seems unlikely.”

“Please.” I flicked a towel toward his arm. “They’ll be sword-fighting each other for the chance.”

He let out a low laugh. “Maybe I’ll make it an orc-style challenge, then. Last one standing wins.”

“Careful.” I pretended to wipe the counter again so he wouldn’t see the flush climbing my cheeks. “You might start a stampede.”

But even as I joked, the thought of someone else winning time with Sel made a knot form in my chest. I didn't like how quickly the feeling bloomed. Jealousy wasn’t a luxury I could give myself. Not when life was about paying rent and keeping Max fed.

So why did the idea of another woman laughing beside him, sharing bites of lunch while he leaned in close, feel like a punch in the ribs?

I didn’t have an answer. Not one I wanted to hear, that is.

But the jealousy was still there, hidden beneath my smile.