Page 43 of Wrangling the Orc Cowboy

Ruugar nodded thoughtfully. “Thanks for the advice.” His shoulders drooped. “I’ll go talk to our aunt.” With that, he strode away.

Tark and I continued down the boardwalk, me glancing over my shoulder long enough to see Ruugar enter the general store. Poor guy. I hoped he found her, though identifying her with only her first name was going to be a challenge.

The air was warming up fast already, and it carried the faint scent of pine and earth. We stopped in front of the saloon, and Tark stepped out into the road, tipped his head back, and released the same whoop, whoop, whoop sound he’d made the other night. It echoed through the quiet street.

Sharga flapped his wings and did a pretty good mimic of the same sound.

The ground trembled, a low, rhythmic thudding growing louder with each passing second. What came barreling toward us from beyond the red barn looked like something out ofJurassic Park. I’d seen it the other night but from a higher level and some distance. Even then, I could tell it was big.

Not this big, though.

The creature thundered down the road, stirring up a plume of dust in its wake, and came to a dramatic halt in front of Tark, sending dirt flying everywhere. My jaw dropped. The beast was easily the size of a minivan, even towering over Tark. Its dark green fur reminded me of moss growing on the side of a tree.

My mouth went so dry my tongue felt like something wilted. Part of me wanted to laugh, the kind you choked on because you knew it didn’t belong but rose anyway.

Instead of hooves, it had massive claws that scratched the dirt, leaving deep grooves behind. Its enormous horns curled back from its skull in a sweeping arc, only to jut forward with tips like spears. As if that wasn’t intimidating enough, forearm-long fangs spiked down from its upper jaws, completing the picture of beastly power.

“That's a sorhox, right?” I asked, my voice a mix of awe and fear as I instinctively stepped closer to the wall behind me. I told myself I was being cautious, but a flicker of old panic darted across my ribs. Fight-or-flight had always been stunted in me. Reality TV taught me that the camera didn’t stop rolling when you screamed. It zoomed in. “They look smaller in pictures. Less green. Less dangerous.”

Tark's chest puffed out, pride flickering in his eyes as he stepped closer to the creature that looked big and mean enough to eat me in one bite. He reached up to pat the beast’s muscular neck. “This is Castree. She’s a sorhox and the best mount an orc could ask for.”

The orcs had brought some of the creatures they’d used in their underground ranching operations to the surface. When I first heard about them, I'd thought… Well, that whatever they brought would be the size of a pony. A horse, maybe. Not something that looked like it could challenge an elephant and come up the victor.

I swallowed, trying to process the sheer size of Castree as the creature turned its head toward me.

Leaving Tark, it stomped up onto the boardwalk while I yelped and huddled against the outer saloon wall.

My legs forgot they belonged to me, and every muscle braced like it expected a director to yell “cut”. At any second I’d be told to do it again, do it better, do it while smiling this time.

I’d frozen like this once before. Bright lights, fake snow, some staged tantrum involving an unruly pony in a tiara. I hadn’t moved, hadn’t breathed.

On the set, they’d called my behavior charming.

Later, behind closed doors, they’d called me useless.

Chapter 14

Tark

“Gracie, wait. Don’t be scared.” I rushed forward as Castree’s claws clicked on the boardwalk, the sound like cracking knuckles. Her emerald-green fur shimmered in the sunlight, soft and velvety. She leaned her massive head down toward Gracie, her fangs catching the light as she sniffed curiously at my mate.

Joining them, I placed a hand on Castree’s neck, aware of both the sharp rise and fall of Gracie’s breathing and the steady calm of the sorhox. “She’s gentle, I promise. Castree won’t hurt you. She’s curious, not mean.”

Gracie’s wide eyes darted to mine, and I could feel the tremble in the air between us like the tightening of a taut rope. “Gentle?” she echoed, her voice a pitch higher than usual.

I let out a soft chuckle. “She’s sweet. Truly. Aren’t you, girl?” I stroked along the sorhox’s neck. “Gracie, meet Castree. Castree, Gracie.”

Gracie blinked at me, her lips parting as though she couldn’t quite believe I was introducing her to something that looked like it belonged on a battlefield, not a trail ride. I'd seen the beasts of burden humans used, and they weren't frighteningat all. Humans knew nothing about the creatures from the orc kingdom, but now was their chance to learn how amazing they were.

“She likes it if you scratch behind her horns,” I said, my chest tightening as I watched the way Gracie’s hand twitched at her side. She’d been kind to Sharga, but Castree was another leap entirely; these beasts were intimidating even to orcs, let alone someone like my mate, who wasn’t accustomed to my life or my world.

I don’t know why it mattered so much that she and Castree got along. But it did. A lump formed in my throat as I waited, every muscle in my body tight with hope and dread. I adored Gracie. There, I’d admitted it to myself. But her life was much different from mine. She had no reason to stay here in Lonesome Creek, no reason to look back once she’d left. And yet, some foolish part of me hoped that she would.

Gracie took a tiny step forward, her hand outstretched with only a slight tremor. Her bravery punched through me like a fist. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Castree, to her credit, lowered her massive head slowly, giving Gracie the chance to close the gap.

“Behind the horn, right?” Gracie's voice was a touch shrill, but there was steel in it too, like she was determined to push through her fear. That steel made my heart flop over and beg for snuggles like Podar did when I stroked his spine.

“Yeah. Do it under where they leave her head.”

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