Page 28 of Wrangling the Orc Cowboy

Her lips curved into a sweet smile. “Yeah, that. If I’m successful, I won’t have to go back.”

“You didn’t enjoy being in streaming images?”

“Not one bit.”

If her success might be tied to mine, I would do all I could to make sure she didn’t follow my path into failure.

“No poems,” I blurted out

She frowned. “Sure. No…poems.”

We finished eating, me two more muffins and her finishing her second. But she was so much tinier than me. It was no wonder she didn't eat much more than a fristleen bird. By the time she’d pushed her plate away and reached into her backpocket for her phone, the knot in my gut had loosened enough that I could call it a good day so far.

“Let’s talk about your social media strategy,” she said. “You mentioned that you'd already set up profiles for Lonesome Creek on FaceSpace, Instaplug, and TickingClock.”

I tensed. I knew what was coming and already worried it wouldn’t be enough. She stepped into this like it was ground she owned, while I stood with my patchwork of attempts, already unraveling.

“I have.” Pray she didn't discover my major mistake. I’d deleted it. That meant it was gone forever. “I, um, haven't posted much. I'm not sure what to say.”

“That's pretty common. It's hard to know exactly how to market yourself to reach the right audience. But you’ve got an amazing setup here, Tark. Dartling muffins alone could blow up with solid hashtags. But you’ve got to get the word out in the right way.”

I scratched the back of my neck, glancing at the crumb-covered plate in front of me. “Not with poems.” Why in all the fates had I said that again?

“Poems?” Her eyebrows lifted and she shook her head. “I think they can work with certain platforms, but I'm not sure yet if that's the right strategy for a Wild West tourist destination.” The skin around her eyes crinkled when she smiled. “Now, if you want to sing and post that, maybe something that'll resonate with the cowboy crowd, you might find yourself going viral.”

Was that truly all that it took? “I don't sing well. I could barely get the darkling pods to open.”

“Fortunately, people—and your fellow orcs—aren't horribly picky. Make a solid effort, and your sincerity will shine through. Being yourself is what's most important. You're offering a true experience here, and your social media profiles need to reflect that same authenticity.”

“I don't know how.” Truly, I sucked at this, though I'd never tell her that.

“That's why I've strolled into town, partner,” she said with a drawl.

It took me a moment to realize she was speaking the way humans did in the streaming images. Dungar believed they could be used as guidance for our behavior in this new, Wild West town, and I was finally beginning to think he was right. I’d study the images some more tonight. Anything if it would impress this woman I ached to call my own.

Gracie leaned back in her chair, her phone lying in her hand, waiting to take notes. “Okay,” she said, her tone all business now, though her bright, warm, and disarming smile still lingered. “Let's start with what you've managed so far. What kind of posts have you done? Is there anything specific you want to highlight?”

I hesitated, fighting the urge to fidget with the crumbs on the table. If I started picking at them, it would only draw attention to the fact that my answers were lacking. “Well, I, uh, put up some information.” I tried not to wince at how weak that sounded. I was not going to mention the heartfelt poem with my misfit friends—and misfit me bumbling around, trying to sound coherent. And failing. “About the town. And the opening. Just text and some dates, mostly.”

Her brows pinched, and my gut twisted into a tumbleweed that threatened to swallow whatever progress I’d made in calming myself. “Do you have any pictures on Instaplug? While I think TickingClock and FaceSpace are excellent options, especially if you repost your reels from TickingClock to FaceSpace, Instaplug is the perfect community for getting started. Everyone's warm and welcoming there.”

Truly? That wasn't what I'd seen.

“I might’ve used one of the saloon’s,” I said. “Dungar said it looked rugged, but Jessi thought it seemed somber. Which I think could mean boring.” I rubbed my chest, hoping that maybe a rogue patch of ceiling would collapse and save me before I drove myself deeper into this hole. No chance of that. If nothing else, we orcs did great construction. It thrived in our dark green blood. That ceiling wouldn’t fall even if a tornado swept through the room. “I probably should’ve hired you earlier. My brothers decided I’d be the best to handle this because I knew how to use my phone.”

“But social media is different, right?” she said, her tone gentle. At least she could feel the shame tightening my throat. “It’s a tool. What you need is the right presentation and timing and finding the correct audience.”

“Yes,” I said quickly, feeling genuinely grateful for how she framed it in a way that didn’t make me feel like a complete failure. “That’s exactly it.”

Her smile grew, the crinkles around her eyes returning as she held my gaze. “Trust me, Tark. You’re not alone in feeling overwhelmed by this kind of thing. Half of my job working with small businesses is teaching people how to start, let alone succeed. And,” she tapped her phone against her palm, “we’ll figure this out step by step. First, we’ll work on visuals. Pictures usually come early in posts. Words come later. If something catches the eye right away, it pulls people in. Really, that's the most important thing about this. Make people feel and they'll keep coming back for more.”

I nodded, holding onto her words like they were a lifeline, which they probably were. “You think pictures of the town or orcs would work best?”

Gracie tilted her head, nodding slowly. “Both. But the key is to tell a story with the pictures. Show people what makes this place unique. Why they should come here instead of goinganywhere else. What’s the vibe? The charm? The heart of Lonesome Creek. And honestly…” She leaned forward, her voice dropping as if sharing a secret. “That muffin? That smile you gave me when I said I loved it? That’s the kind of stuff people connect with. Authenticity. You’re not just running a tourist town. You’re building something that matters to you. That’s what people want to see. They want to feel like they’re part of it.”

I swallowed hard, her words hitting deep. Something in the way she said it, like what I was doing mattered, likeImattered, felt like sunlight breaking through a stormy sky. I’d never thought about the town that way before. To me, it was just something we built to start a new life here on the surface. Something my brothers and I hoped wouldn’t collapse under the weight of our expectations. But the way she framed it, with her easy confidence and earnest tone, made it feel bigger than that. Made it feel possible.

“That Wild West theme you're going for? It’s gold if you know how to package it correctly,” she added.

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