Page 18 of Buck Wild Orc Cowboy (Brides of the Lonesome Creek Orcs #3)

Sel

T he sun had dipped low enough to create long shadows in the yard.

A few crickets had started chirping, and the breeze carried the scent of sun-warmed grass.

I led Max and Holly to the wide patch near the fence where the ground was flat, and the soft grass offered a safe place to start their training.

“This won’t be like in the streaming images,” I said, stopping and turning to face them. “Real self-defense starts way before anyone touches you.” I grunted. “We also won't be working with swords yet.”

Max groaned. “Can't we, please?”

I grinned. “Not until I say you're ready. Just like orc training, you'll need to earn the right to wield the sword.”

“Okay,” he grumbled.

Holly stood to the side, her arms crossed on her chest. I didn’t think she was cold.

No, she was holding herself in. I suspected she’d done something similar to this before, braced in this way, waiting for ugly things to happen.

I looked away too quickly, as if not seeing it would make it less true.

“First rule.” I kept my voice steady, feeding the instructions slow enough to let them sink in. “Is not to fight if you don’t have to. The safest choice is to avoid danger altogether. You don’t win by being strong or fast. You win by not being where someone can cause you harm.”

Max shifted his weight, watching my every move. “How do you know a situation’s dangerous before it happens?”

A good question. “You don’t always. But you watch. You listen. You pay attention to small things, say, the tone of their voice, how close they’re standing, what your belly says. If something feels off or scary, it probably is.”

He nodded again.

I gestured toward the scrubby trees on the far edge of the yard. “Watch for a way out at all times. Like those trees. You could run and put them between you and the other person.”

Max frowned. “But they're little.”

“If the other person has to make more moves to get around something to get to you, that gives you more time. When you're walking or even in your own yard, keep an eye on who’s around you. If someone makes you uncomfortable, move. Put space between yourself and them. You don’t owe anyone your time.

Tell them to leave you alone and loudly.

People like that don't want to draw attention, because they know if you're yelling, others are looking and might even help. They need you vulnerable.”

“And if they don’t back off when you do that?” Max’s voice came out hollow. Quiet.

I held his eyes. “Then you scream. Call for help.”

His hands curled at his sides. “Alright. I can do that.”

Holly's lips tightened, and she nodded.

“You can’t always stop someone from trying to hurt you,” I said. “But you can make it harder for them to do it. Back away if they get close. Turn sideways. It makes you a smaller target.”

Max's chin lifted, and his lower lip trembled. “What if they’ve already grabbed you? How do you get away?”

His voice didn’t rise. Didn’t shake. That was the part that caught me, the evenness of it. He’d seen more than he should’ve for someone so young. My fingers flexed before I realized they’d curled inward.

“I’ll show you. But remember, fighting is always the last option. Being aware of your surroundings and who might come at you can make a huge difference.”

Stepping over to them, I showed Max how to break from a wrist grab, turning toward the thumb and pulling back with a twist. I demonstrated it slowly a few times, then let him copy me. He got it on the third try.

“Good,” I said. “Now, if you need to stun them, think quick, sharp movement. Disarm them and run. Your best chance is to put distance between you, not try to fight them off. So break the grab and get away. Find other people. Call for help. Don't let them isolate you.”

Holly watched, her eyes burning with determination.

“Are you alright?” I asked her. She hadn't said anything.

“Yup. Keep going.”

I talked about trying not to show them they were afraid, plus demonstrated a few new moves. And every time I met their eyes, I didn’t see fear. I saw the fire of anger and determination. They weren’t panicked. They were learning because they felt they had no choice.

“Next move.” I stepped back, shaking out my arms. “If someone grabs your wrist from the front, like this…” I reached toward Max slowly, giving him time to brace himself.

“They’ll usually go for control, not pain, at least not right away.

Your best chance is to break free before they tighten up.

” I wrapped my fingers gently around his wrist. “Now twist toward my thumb.

Not hard. Just fast and smart. It's about finding the weak spot, not overpowering them. Size isn't everything. You’re wiry, and you can use that to your advantage.”

“I'm not wiry.” Holly patted her hips, a hint of a smile on her face.

“Compared to me, you are.”

“Good point.”

Max turned his arm quick, yanking back. My grip slipped easily.

“Yes, like that,” I said. “Again. Faster.”

He did it again, and I turned to Holly. She stepped close, and something in my skin warmed. Her scent, faint and clean, found its way to the front of my head. I shoved my feelings down hard. Now wasn’t the time.

Pushing that aside, I focused, because teaching them this would give them more confidence. Fear was a predator's best weapon, and if their prey felt they could defend themselves, even a little bit, they wouldn’t risk trying to hurt them.

“What if they grab your arm from behind?” she asked.

I reached around and held above Holly's elbow. “Here, they’ll try to control your movement. Step forward, duck, and twist your arm out. Low and away. Use your angle.”

She moved quickly. Too fast. I suspected she already knew how to use this move. Her body dodged, turned, snapped loose. No confusion. No hesitation.

That hollow feeling took up residence inside me again. This wasn't a new motion for her. Maybe not exactly the same, but close enough. This kind of knowing didn’t belong in anyone's bones.

She blinked up at me, waiting.

“Good job.” We did it a number of times before I worked with Max until he felt confident as well.

With each new move I taught them, they didn’t speak, just kept their jaws tight and followed through each time.

When we finally stopped, both of them were flushed and catching their breath. Light sweat shone on their foreheads. Max looked over at me, not smiling, but different. Something heavy had lifted a fraction off his shoulders.

Holly turned to Max, stroked his back. “You did well, honey.”

Pride shone in his eyes. “So did you, Mom.”

A tiny smile tugged at her mouth as she looked my way.

My chest ached.

Both of them stood a little straighter now.

And I, younger than I looked and older than I felt, let myself breathe.