Page 7 of Buck Wild Orc Cowboy (Brides of the Lonesome Creek Orcs #3)

Sel

A fter she left the bakery with her son to collect their things, everything went too quiet.

I wiped down the already-clean counters.

Rearranged the flour bins. Lined up the measuring cups by height.

It helped for a little while. Then I reached for a spoon with no real purpose and stood there holding it, staring at the wall like it might give me answers.

I shouldn’t be feeling like this. They were coming to stay for a short time. A boy and his mother who needed more space than they’d find in an anonymous hotel room. This wasn't a big thing. Orcs believed in protecting the vulnerable. It was survival. I was doing what anyone would.

If she chose to stay beyond the one-month trial period, I'd help her find permanent housing in the town nearby.

Transportation. That sort of thing. Then she'd be a regular old employee, and Max…

I'd only see him here and there. He'd make friends and have other things to do that were more important to him than looking up at me with admiration or working with my youngling sorhoxes.

I wasn’t excited that she and Max were staying at my place. That would be wrong.

But then her laugh echoed in my mind, that gentle one when I’d shown her how to bang the mixer a second time.

She’d be under my roof soon. That should not have sent a thump through my ribs, but it did. I squeezed the spoon tighter.

We weren’t sharing a room, only briefly sharing the rest of the house. I'd stay in the barn. She’d have the main bedroom, the living room, the kitchen as her own most of the time. The arrangement was practical.

Still, my brain kept offering up images I had no right dreaming about.

Holly brushing her hair in the bathroom, the door open and me standing in the hallway, watching.

Max setting his book down on the coffee table before coming to the kitchen for dinner where the three of us would sit, talk, and laugh while savoring a well-cooked meal.

Holly humming again as she made dinner or breakfast in my kitchen alongside me, her smile soft at the corners.

I told myself this was about Max. I remembered what it felt like to be small and afraid and left with few choices. Helping him mattered. That was all. Holly was…well, his mother. My employee. A sort of friend. Nothing more than that.

But her eyes had been scared, too. They'd suffered hardship, pain, and it showed in their tight postures, the ways their eyes darted to every exit as if they were pacing out the steps to escape.

When we'd stepped out into the alley, Holly had scanned the street, her shoulders tense, like she expected someone to attack from the shadows.

The fear on her face stuck to my thoughts and made me want to build walls and throw up shields for her. For both of them.

That wasn’t just about an employee, someone to fill a job. It was about her smile. Her laugh. Her quiet strength. The solemn way Max spoke of the story he was reading. The way he stared through the picture window on the front of my bakery with longing.

I returned the spoon to where it belonged and leaned against the sink on stiff arms. Breathed. Counted to ten. Twenty. One hundred. Closed my eyes.

She was not mine.

And I’d promised myself I’d never want again, because wanting broke things.

The last time I'd wanted something this much, I’d stood by her funeral pyre with tears streaming down my face.

They came back less than an hour later, like she’d promised.

I stood from where I’d taken a spot on the back steps and waved to my right. “Let’s go this way. Cut around the main road to the animal barn.”

Max nodded and tightened his grip on his too-small bag hanging from his shoulder. Holly carried her own. Being reminded of how little they had knocked the wind out of me.

“Did you ship the rest of your things?” I asked, hoping that was so.

She shook her head, her lips tightening. “This is all we have. We had to…leave Boston fast.”

I'd figured that out already. Who else accepted a job and said they'd be there within days unless… “Why did you have to leave fast?”

She sucked in a breath, and I could see her internal war in her eyes. She wanted to share; I could feel that. But she was afraid.

I waited patiently while she and Max shared a heavy look.

Max lifted his chin, his eyes sharpening, before he turned to face me. “My dad got out of jail, and we were worried he’d come after us.”

“What?” I growled, processing his statement.

I reached for a sword on my back that wasn't there.

When orcs came to the surface, we soon discovered that people didn't carry weapons like us.

Some wore sheaths with metal weapons—guns—that barked too loud and could injure or kill from a distance.

If I was going to kill someone, I'd do it up close and while looking in their eyes, starting with this one.

I kept my sword in a cabinet near the back door of my bakery, locked up tight.

“I'll kill him,” I snarled.

Holly's eyes widened, and she took a step backward. “You can't. I mean…” She shook her head. “I hate him. I'd love to see him suffer more than he already has, but we don't just…kill people.”

Max's spine stiffened. “Don’t worry. I'll protect my mom.”

At his age, I would've said the same thing, but despite his height and the resolve in his brown eyes, he was still a youngling who should be protected. Not someone who should be thrust into the role of protector.

“I'll teach you how to fight if you want.” I wasn’t sure why I said it. Orc training wasn't a gift we handed out lightly. But something in Max’s eyes and the way he squared his shoulders made me want to give him everything I had.

Holly gasped.

Max gave me a sly grin. “Awesome. How do orcs fight?”

My slick grin rose. “Dirty.”

“Cool. I'm in.”

Holly laid her hand on her son’s shoulder. “Max…”

“You can watch if you want,” I said, hoping that would reassure her. “And I'll teach you too if that interests you.”

She paused, and I sensed she was deciding whether or not I was the kind of male who gave but expected much more in return.

“Oh, well, I…” Now her spine was stiffening. “That would be amazing.”

I gave them a curt nod. “Good. We'll start tomorrow.” I waved for them to walk with me. “For now, let's get to my place.” I needed more details, if she’d give them, and tomorrow, I’d notify my brothers to look out for any potential threat.

Nothing and no one was going to harm Holly or Max.

As for their possessions, a boy doesn’t grow tall and strong on air and books. He needed food. Boots. Places to stretch and not feel like he’d break something if he breathed too big.

I was going to get that kid a jacket. Work gloves. Pants and shirts and a couple of pairs of cowboy boots. A solid hat that would shade his face. And books. Lots of books because a youngling needed to exercise his mind.

As for Holly, I had some ideas for what she might need. I'd take them to the next town tomorrow to pick up some things, probably before I started teaching them how to fight.

They followed me through the alley, their steps quiet on the dirt road.

She walked beside me, but I could feel the distance she kept, the kind of space that came from people who’d had to drag their sorrow behind them for too long.

“I appreciate what you're offering us.” Holly glanced up at me and smiled. A little one, but it stole every word I was thinking of saying.

“Glad to help,” I finally said.

We passed the edge of Main Street. Ahead, the barn sat on a wide stretch of packed dirt, its shadow long from the late-day sunshine.

At the barn, I caught Max’s eye. “You want to meet some beasts?”

“Oh, yeah,” he breathed. He looked Holly’s way. “Can I? Please?”

“Of course.” Her breezy tone held a hint of concern.

“You can come too,” I said.

Her fingers twitched at her sides. “What kind of beasts are we talking about?”

I unlatched and opened one of the big front doors. “This barn holds the sorhoxes reserved for tourists. For trail rides, younglings who want to trot inside a small fenced-in area, that sort of thing. Our tamest beasts that have had extensive training.” I gestured for them to enter ahead of me.

I followed them inside, trying to see it like they would.

They'd come from the city. They may have never interacted with large animals before.

The center aisle had a concrete floor, and it stretched wide.

It was cool and dim inside, and the scent of fresh pine hung in the air.

The aisle had been swept clean beneath our boots, with just a scattering of hay pushed to the edges.

Stalls flanked both sides, with sturdy wooden half-gates.

They'd have to be sturdy to hold sorhoxes.

Giant green heads, horned and fanged, nudged out of the openings with curiosity.

A large window at the far end let in light, though we'd installed electric fixtures throughout. The sunlight was enough to see for now, however.

Max walked further inside with Holly, his lips parted, barely breathing. His steps were soft, like he didn’t want to startle the creatures. “They’re huge,” he whispered, gaping at the closest beasts on either side of the aisle.

“Fully grown. As I said, these are the sorhoxes tourists ride. We offer week-long and four-day trail rides, plus day trips and even opportunities for younglings. Half-days for them. Eventually, we plan to offer staged bull riding and even small events like barrel racing. On sorhoxes, naturally, keeping with our intention to integrate orc culture with human.”

Holly paused near the first gate, her eyes sweeping across the beasts watching us as intently as she was studying them. “They’re amazing. Are they dangerous?”

“They can be.” I stepped toward a stall on the right. “But not these. Not anymore.” I stroked the beast’s snout, and he sniffed me before huffing in recognition. “This is Brelar.”

“They all have names?” Max asked in a hushed tone.

“Just like you and me.”