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

Sel

T hey followed me up onto the boardwalk and along it, toward the saloon.

Holly Engle. Small, though I found all humans tiny.

Sunset-hair. Brown eyes as sharp as stone.

Stiff shoulders. Hands tight at her sides.

No, not just tight. They were clenched like she was half a second from throwing them up in front of the boy.

Not to stop something, but to take what was coming. Like she’d done it before.

What had happened to them in the past?

The youngling male walked with her, his wild eyes taking in everything around him. A boy . I needed to remember the right term. Humans didn't call their children younglings like we did.

Boy hadn’t been in her message.

I’d reread her text twice after I got it. “I accept the offer. I’ll be there in a few days – Holly.” Not a word of “and my youngling too.”

Not naming him felt like a shield. Had she written her message with someone reading over her shoulder?

My stomach pinched at the thought.

Max held himself stiffly, though I didn’t sense fear.

He was thin, all knees and elbows. He held a book in his hand even as he studied the street.

The too-bright tourists. Even the sorhoxes shuffling their clawed hooves nearby.

Glasses too big for his face. He looked like her.

Same gaze. Same way of staying quiet that felt louder than talking, though I wasn't sure how I knew all this from such a short interaction.

I paused on the boardwalk to allow a group of tourists to pass, tipping my hat toward them the way my older brother, Dungar, told us to do. Said tourists loved seeing old-fashioned cowboy gestures, and we did want to make our visitors happy.

Holly and Max walked beside me, staying near the building wall, watching everything with wide eyes. Max tilted his chin up at me in a challenge or maybe a question. Either way, I looked away first. Tucked my thoughts into the space behind my chest and locked the door. That one’s not for you, Sel.

“It’ll clear out in a bit,” I said, glancing Holly’s way. “By the way, I'm your new boss.” Silly to mention that when she must know. I’d introduced myself.

“Yes, that’s good. We’re…happy to be here, right Max?” She put her arm around his back, and the pride in her eyes when she looked at him hit me in the guts like a well-placed sorhox hoof, stealing my wind. I forced some down my throat despite the wheeze.

Max continued to stare at me, saying nothing.

The big group passed, and I gave them a nod and started walking again. “Your room is inside the saloon. On the second floor. One room.” Which could be a problem.

I tightened my grip on their bags. They followed, their steps right behind mine.

I heard fabric rustle, then a hitch in Max’s steps.

She’d pulled him in close, like the press of tourists brushing against them wasn’t just annoying, it was a threat.

I peered over my shoulder. Her elbow skimmed his arm, and she kept her hand ready, the kind of ready that didn’t come from nerves but habit.

I was gaining lots of clues from our limited interactions, but I wasn’t sure yet what they all meant.

We passed more tourists along the boardwalk, loud and laughing.

A bunch of city people in newly purchased prairie dresses, cowboy vests, plus stiff boots with spurs that had never seen a real trail in their life.

Their spurs clinked on the boards, and I'd bet anything they thought they were starring in a streaming image. Movie. That was the actual term.

I baked bread. Pastries. Cookies. Pies for the restaurant partway down the street. I didn't get out much. Talk much. Interact with humans much outside the bakery.

As I opened the right swinging door to the saloon and waited for Holly and Max to step inside, a little girl stopped on the boardwalk and pointed at me. “Mama, look. That’s a real orc.”

The woman laughed. “He sure is, honey. Take a picture!”

I smiled politely while she did, then followed Holly and Max inside.

The Red Fang Saloon was bright and full of noise.

Tourists drank root beer and regular beer from authentic, branded mugs.

The bar stretched along the right wall, run by my brother, Ostor, today.

He waved when we walked in. Behind him, a small kitchen door stayed propped open.

The place smelled like roasted ashenbird and deep fried cragroot, specials on today's menu.

When we built the place, we placed the stairs along the left back wall, and they curved up to the second and third floors.

I kept close to the wall as I led the way, making sure to take it slow.

They followed me up the broad staircases and into the long, carpeted hall that was empty of anyone else for now.

On the third floor, I led them all the way to the end and their room. “I didn’t know you had a youngling— boy —with you.” I kept my eyes trained on the doorknob instead of her. “Right now, we only have one room available.”

Holly shifted, brushing sunset hair back from her face. Her hand lingered near Max’s shoulder.

“It’s fine,” she said, too fast. A glance passed between them. Her expression remained tight. Protective.

His held relief, though I had no idea why.

Seeing their interaction did things to me. Not good things, though not bad either. I couldn't quite define them, actually.

Max looked up at me again, his brown eyes intense behind his glasses.

Like he hadn’t been given the chance to admire much in his short life but now something in me had caught his attention.

I didn’t know what to do with that kind of look, the kind that took me in as if I held out hope in my big hands.

“Alright.” I unlocked the door.

One glance inside, and I swore under my breath, though I wasn’t surprised. One orc-sized bed with a white cover and two pillows. No couch, just a chair at a desk by the window.

“There’s only one bed,” I said. “That won't do.” Though what would? Since we’d opened, we’d been booked solid.

“It'll be fine,” Holly said, brushing past me, though not touching. I’d swear she was doing all she could to avoid getting close.

I placed their bags on the floor by the wall. Light. Lighter than they should’ve been for people moving to a new town. Only jackets between them. Nothing for cold weather unless it was inside the bags. I suspected she hadn’t packed as someone planning to stay but as someone needing to vanish.

Not my business. There was no need to ask questions that could draw out answers that weren’t mine to know.

Still, something about the way she stood in front of her son, the way she subtly kept herself between me and him, knotted deep inside me.

She almost appeared to wear pain like a coat she hadn’t taken off yet.

Another odd thought on my part.

As far as the room was concerned, I wanted to tell her I'd make other arrangements, though I wasn't sure what I could offer. It was only due to a random cancellation that this room was open.

But I worried if I told her this wasn't right for her and her son, she'd run.

I had no idea why I thought she'd run.

“I'll, um, have some food sent up to your room if you'd like.” I backed into the hall.

“Thank you but don't go to any trouble. PB&J will be fine. Something easy and…cheap.”

I didn't know what PB and J was. “We mostly serve orc dishes here. Part of the draw is our combining orc food and creatures with the human Wild West.”

“Anything will do.” She didn't even look up, just kept her gaze fixed on the floor.

Max gave me a weak smile. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” Frowning, I shut the door.

Then I went downstairs and instead of asking the cook to prepare something and send it to their room, I crafted their meals myself, a mix of whatever we had available in cold storage.

I added extra since Max looking like a growing youngling and if he was anything like me when I was his age, he'd eat three times what I served his mother.

I took the tray up the stairs and banged on the door with my elbow.

“Who's there?” The panic in Holly's voice made me want to draw a sword and start slashing. Stand in front of her and roar at the world. Do anything I could to protect her and her son.

The notion unsettled me in a not-so-good way, though I wasn't sure there was anything I could do about it other than press a smile on my face and call through the door. “It's Sel. I have food. Could you open up?”

“Oh, yes.” Her voice softened. “I'm sorry.” She undid the lock. The deadbolt. The chain that rattled. And cracked the door, poking only her nose through the narrow gap. Max stayed out of sight, as if she'd tucked him away somewhere and dared the world to try to find him. “You're alone?”

“Of course.” Who else would come here with me?

She opened the door further and thrust out her hands, taking the tray from me, not even looking at my offering. Her elbows never unlocked. She clenched them as if she didn’t trust the tray to remain in her grip for long.

I swallowed hard.

She studied my face. “I appreciate it.” Her foot tapped the door to close it while I remained still, my hands limp at my sides. “Thank you,” she called through the panel as it closed.

The locks clicked. The chain screeched as it was slid into place.

“I’ll, um, see you at the bakery tomorrow morning?” I said through the door.

“Oh, yes, sure. What time?” she asked, her voice muffled.

Truly, it would cause no harm to open the door back up and maybe even step into the hall. Speak with me face-to-face.

Or would it? I suspected she might have a different opinion than mine.

“Nine?”

“Sure. I’ll be there!”

Nine was way too late, but it was her first day. I always started early, though I did a lot of prep work at the end of the prior day, so I didn’t have to go in like some bakers at three.

Turning, I leaned against the wall, scrubbing my face with my palms. I finally bumped off and headed back downstairs and out onto Main Street.

A call brought my sorhox, Zist, running.

I leaped up onto the beast’s spine and gently nudged his sides with my heels, aiming him toward the right side of town.

After we’d finished building our tourist town, we'd constructed small ranch houses, all completely alike, for me and my five brothers, plus one for my Aunt Inla and another, now, for Lil, my sister-in-law, Jessi's grandmother. We all called her Grannie Lil, even my brother, Greel, Jessi's mate.

I couldn’t stop thinking about Holly and Max and the odd way they’d behaved. While I didn’t know humans well, I’d been around enough to know they were scared. Yes, that was the right word.

What could I do about it, assuming I want to do anything at all?

I ran one idea after another through my mind.

By the time I’d reached my dark home and stepped inside my small kitchen, I’d come up with a plan.