Page 6 of When the Merchant Met the Orc

“Ah, yes. She gets you hot and bothered with one cold look, doesn’t she?”

“She’s not cold.”

“I don’t mean it like that, really. She’s kind and clever. She’s just, well, she’s very professional,” Cyrus says. “I should probably be more like her.”

I laugh and help him clear up some dishes from the bar area. The sun comes in through the windows and the place smells like fresh bread. It’s a great place to work. Lots of fun and solid money, too.

Cyrus opens the coin box and counts out the coppers to be sure we can continue to make change for customers today. “Why were you at Rychell’s?”

“I’m going to be her bodyguard for her trip to Honey Sands.”

Eyebrows lifting, Cyrus studies my face. “She isn’t the only clever one, eh? That will be a perfect setup.”

“I can’t say I didn’t think of the possibility of getting to know her better.”

“She gets a safe journey, and you get time with your crush,” Cyrus says.

I grin. “Exactly.”

“Does she seem to be interested at all yet?”

“I love thatyetyou added in there,” I say.

He nods. “You’re welcome.”

“As you know, she is not the flirting type, so there’s no way to know.”

“Watch for her touching her hair or her lips,” Cyrus says.

“Really? That’s a thing?”

“It definitely is.”

“All right. I don’t know why I would question the playboy of the town,” I say, teasing him with the human term.

Chucking, he leaves the bar area and heads toward the kitchen. “As I said, you’re a clever fellow.”

The next morning,I put my sheathed sword on my back, my shield too, and then I walk to Rychell’s. She is already setting up the wagon and her horse, Tamar. She buckles a strap and looks up with a smile. My stomach flips like she’s the first female I’ve ever seen. Tamar huffs a hello, and I run a quick hand down her snout.

“Good morning, ladies,” I say, trying not to stare at Rychell’s lovely profile. “How can I help?”

“Morning,” Rychell says, her curious gaze taking in the hilt of my sword over my shoulder and the curved top of my shield. “I sent Nate on to Kaya’s. We’ll stop there before leaving, all right?”

“Sounds good.”

“Will you grab that sack there?” She nods toward the closed front door of her home, where a large bag sits.

While I lift the sack of what smells like dried oregano, Rychell tucks a small chest under the driver’s bench in the front of the wagon. I set the oregano in the back and take a minute to check the wagon’s wheels.

“They’re all right, aren’t they?” she asks. “I had that one replaced over the summer.”

“It’s fine. I’m only checking out of habit. It was part of my duties when I was in the king’s army.”

“I didn’t know you had been in the army.”

“Aye. That’s why I teach sword lessons. Making some use of my skills to help our folks stay safe.”

“I never really thought about warriors making sure cart wheels are sound.”