Page 44 of Rough Riding Orc Cowboy

Outside, voices drifted from the river. Ruugar’s deep, rumbling tone mixed with the easy laughter of the others. He was fine. Talking like nothing had happened.

While I was wallowing in pain.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I got to my knees and stuffed my cowboy hat back on my head. I left the tent, forcing myself to walk to the cooking gazebo. If I couldn’t fix my mistake, I could at least make myself useful.

Food sat neatly arranged, waiting for someone toprepare it. Cooking couldn’t be that hard. People did it every day.

Ruugar left the guests at the river and strode this way, pausing to light the firepit without a word. He handed out drinks to the guests who quickly joined him, settling in chairs he set up. Pete adored whiskey, and the trail ride catered to every need, so he had a bottle nearby.

After ensuring they were happy, Ruugar entered the cooking gazebo. For a long, tense moment, he stood by the open doorway, saying nothing. Grunting, he strode to the refrigerator and took things out, laying them on the counter. I remained where I was, staring at the odd-appearing root vegetables, wondering what I could do with them that would resemble a meal.

The air between us crackled, heavy with unspoken words.

He placed a bowl of peeled chumble eggs in front of me. I assumed they were chumble eggs. I'd never seen an egg the size of these before, let alone a green one, but the pink bird we'd seen was huge, at least the size of an ostrich.

“We're serving chumblings first,” he said. “Do you think you can slice them in half and remove the yolks? Place that in this smaller bowl.” He added that beside the first. “And then mash it with a fork. I'll get out the ingredients we'll use to make the stuffing, and if you think you can do it, you can stuff them as well. Serve them to our guests.”

His tone was anything but insulting, but did he think I was completely useless?

“I can do that,” I said so softly, I wasn't sure he'd hear. But he nodded and went to work on what looked like meat.

In a short time, the chumblings were ready, even placed on a pretty platter. I left the gazebo with them held aloft, and with a fake smile on my face, I joined the guests at the fire. “Chumblings,” I announced as if I didn't have a care in the world. “They’re kind of like deviled eggs.” Only much larger. And green. Despite the fact that my world was falling apart, my smile held true.

The guests were still laughing when I set the platter down on the table in front of them. They barely noticed me, too caught up in each other. My stomach twisted as I returned to the cooking area.

Ruugar didn’t look at me. “I'm making lizardloin burgers. The grill’s outside.”

“And the vegetables?” I pointed to them still lying on the counter.

“It’s cragroot.” he said. “A staple in the orc kingdom that vaguely resembles your potatoes. After I peel and chop them, I'll wrap them in this shiny silver stuff.” He held up a box of aluminum foil. “It doesn't burn for whatever reason.”

“It's metal,” I said, still no louder than before.

“Yes, that. I'll roast them on the grill with oil. Spices.” He waved to containers sitting on a shelf nearby. “Orc spices. They'll enjoy them.”

“I can get them ready if you’d like.”

“You could sit on?—”

“No. I want to help.”

“Alright.” His neutral expression told me absolutely nothing. “Once the loin burgers are prepared for the grill, I'll make a salad. Humans like those.” He grimaced, suggesting that maybe orcs did not.

Peeling and chopping cragroot didn't require much skill. It was something to focus on. Something that kept my hands from shaking.

“If you'd prefer,” he said, “you could sit with the others. I don't mind doing all this. I expected I would, Breela.”

“I can do it. See?” I sliced another piece of cragroot and tossed it into the bowl where I'd season them before placing them in the foil. “I'm really not useless.” Though I felt like I was. Completely. A total burden.

“You're doing well,” he grumbled.

I tilted my head, looking up at him, but he kept his face turned away. “What does Breela mean?”

His ears burned green, and eyes shifted to our right as if he needed more distance between us. ”Helper.”

Maybe. I didn’t push it.

Laughter rose again from the firepit, bright and carefree. A reminder of what I wasn’t. Of what Ruugar clearly thought we never could be.

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