Page 79 of Rough Riding Orc Cowboy

I was about to start singing when footsteps crossed the open camp area.

“You two calling it a night or drinking all the whiskey?” Joel’s voice shattered the moment, and Beth jerked away from me, her laughter bubbling up too fast, too forced.

“Going to bed, Joel.” She twisted the cap back on the bottle and set it on the ground beside one of the chairs. She brushed past me, aiming for our tent, not looking back.

I stayed a moment longer by the dying fire, my pulse pounding. Grumbling under my breath, I followed her. We took turns in the bathroom before crawling inside the tent, laying on our backs, me staring at the ceiling. I wasn't sure what she was doing other than breathing.

My urge to sing had fled, replaced by a deep sadness I couldn't explain.

The space between us felt wider than they should, stretched by everything left unsaid.

The wind stirred outside, rustling the canvas.

Beth shifted, turning toward me. Her voice carried in the quiet. “I had fun today.”

My throat was too dry. I swallowed. “You did?”

“I don’t want it to end.”

Tell her.

But before I could, she rolled over, facing away from me, her body curling small. She tugged up the blanket, pretty much burying her head in the folds. Maybe she wasn’t ready to talk about whatever this was between us either. We still had time. I would remain patient.

I stared at the ceiling, my muscles locked tight. Two more nights. Only two. Closing my eyes, I tried to sleep. But the warmth of Beth beside me, too far yet too close, was shoving itself into my every thought.

I wondered if I’d ever be able to sleep without her warmth beside me.

Chapter 28

Beth

Iwoke to the sound of birds chirping, blending with the breeze rustling the canvas and the crisp morning air filtering through the tent flap. My body was warm beneath the blankets, but something was missing. I reached out before my eyes even opened, instinctively searching for Ruugar, only to find nothing but empty space.

We’d barely spoken after sharing that stolen moment with the whiskey, after his eyes—so dark, so intent—had made me lose my breath. Then Joel interrupted us, and just like that, the moment was gone.

And now, Ruugar was too.

He was busy. We had lots to do here. I wasn’t going to let this get to me.

I pushed myself upright, shoving tangled hair from my face and exhaling, pushing out the breath. These past few days had been more than I'd ever expected, more than I'd dreamed. Yet the closer we got to the endof this journey, the heavier the uncertainty sat in my chest.

Would we still have this when we returned to Lonesome Creek? It was normal to be concerned. We hadn’t spoken of feelings, of a future. But he cared. I knew this in my heart. I was going to trust in that.

I had questions, but I didn’t have answers, and overthinking would only tie me in knots. Instead, I dressed in fresh clothes, washed my face at the small bathroom near the cabins, and headed toward the cooking gazebo, where I already knew Ruugar would be.

He stood by the stove, sliding eggs onto a platter as the others sat at the table, drinking coffee and chatting.

“Morning,” I called out.

“Morning,” he said gruffly, finally glancing at me, his gaze slipping over my face like he was taking stock.

Something flickered between us, last night's leftover tension, charged and unresolved. But before I could say anything about it, Mary clapped her hands.

“Alright, alright,” she called out, grinning. “After breakfast, who’s up for a little competition?”

The group perked up. Pete and Carol exchanged knowing looks, another inside joke between married folks. Even Joel rubbed his hands together eagerly.

Ruugar quirked a brow at Mary. “What kind of competition?”

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