Page 35 of Rough Riding Orc Cowboy

A bright flash of pink to the right caught my eye. A cluster of small creatures zipped through the grass behind a bigger one, wobbling in a fluffy little pink parade. They looked soft and harmless, though their mama had fangs and claws. And she was at least the size of an ostrich.

They came closer, though they remained enough distance away I wasn't too concerned. Barg ignoring them helped assure me they weren't a threat—yet.

“Look at that,” Carol cried out, pointing and wiggling on the back of her sorhox. “Are they chumbles?” Her gaze met Pete's. “Remember? I read about them. So happy we're seeing them. I'd hoped we would. Look at those babies! So cute.”

Ruugar, Mary, and Joel stopped their sorhoxes and we caught up, pausing to admire the pink creatures with them.

“Yes, chumbles,” Ruugar said. “The small ones run in a pack we call a chumble crumble.”

Mary's laugh snorted out, and we all grinned. How adorable.

“The babies are clumsy. They hold onto their fluff until they're older and their scales start taking form,” he said.

Joel pulled a small pair of binoculars from his backpack, and we took turns looking.

The mother truly did have pink scales, layered like armor across her entire body. Claws that had to be a foot long, and a bright orange beak. She studied us as intently as we did her, her chumble crumble peeping and fluttering around her.

Mary's face lit with fascination. “You collect their eggs, correct? I read about them online.”

“Yup,” Ruugar said. “Chumble eggs are about the size of my fist, and they're considered a delicacy in the orc kingdom. We take eggs, but we always make sure we leave some for the mothers.” He described how challenging it was to collect them. “We have to wait until she's not looking and dive into her nest, grab a few eggs, then retreat quickly. She'll give chase if she sees you with them, and who can blame her?”

“Wow, that's so interesting,” Carol chimed in, her eyes bright. “How do they taste?”

“They're similar to chicken eggs, only nuttier. The insides are as green as an orc's skin.” He poked his arm.

“Are you offering chumble eggs during our trail ride?” Pete asked. “I'd love to taste them.”

“We are. One of my brothers collected them and will leave them, along with other food items, at each campsite. We'll have chumble eggs for breakfast along with drundeg strips that you'll find taste a bit like bacon. Drundegs are wild beasts that roam the forests outside the orc kingdom.”

“Your orc kingdom sounds fascinating, Ruugar,” Joel said. “Are you planning to offer any excursions there? I imagine many would sign up for the chance to see how orcs live, to travel through the deep caverns your people call home.”

“Not so far.” Ruugar’s squinted gaze remained on the chumbles. “For now, only mates are allowed to travel there and even they're restricted to where they can go. Our king wants to preserve our lifestyle the way it is for as long as he can.”

“I understand,” Joel said. “Too often, humans force their own ways on others rather than respect them.”

“I know it wouldn’t be the intention,” Ruugar said. “But it happens.”

The chumble mama shrieked and herded her babies away from us, sadly, but Ruugar assured us we'd see more of them. They'd been selectively introduced to this area, though they were restricted with fences to keep them from interacting too much with wild creatures in the area. They'd also been cleared to ensure there was nodisease that would impact our own wildlife before they were allowed to come here. As had the sorhoxes and any other beasts brought to the surface. I'd read about that in the brochure that came with the wedding package we’d received when we toured a few months before my possible wedding.

We left them behind, riding west again.

Chapter 13

Beth

The sorhoxes snorted and tossed their heads as we rode into the meadow, sensing the end of their journey for the day. The towering trees at the edges cast long shadows across the wide clearing, their leaves rustling in the breeze. Beyond them, on the left, a river glittered in the late afternoon sunlight, water tumbling over smooth stone ledges to form a small cascade. A deep, clear pool stretched below the falls, and I could already imagine how amazing it would feel to swim there after-hours in the saddle.

The campsite itself was well-prepared. Lanterns hung on wooden posts, waiting to be lit, and a circle of head-sized rocks ringed the central firepit. Two cute wooden cabins with little flags on top fluttering in the wind had been built beneath the shade of a cluster of tall trees. To our right, I spied the cooking gazebo Ruugar had mentioned, where we’d prepare and eat all our meals. A shed stood in the back, near the trees, and he’dtold me all the supplies we’d need had been stored inside.

They'd gone out of their way to make this look comfortable, like more than just some wilderness camp. This was meant for retreat, for relaxation.

Ruugar brought Ebar to a halt and swung off in a single motion. He turned, striding over and reaching up as Mary struggled to dismount. His large hands caught her around the waist, and he swept her off her mount and gently set her on the ground, holding her arms until she'd steadied herself.

His hands were so careful, his gesture kind and thoughtful. I had no right to wonder how they would feel on my waist again, how I might fit against him if I let myself lean in. Bringing Barg to a halt, I clenched the reins tighter, looking away from him before the thought could take root. He wasn’t for me. He had no reason to want me here, let alone want me like that.

Marty laughed and thanked him. Joel dismounted and joined her, patting his wife on the shoulder.

“That was smoother than I expected,” he said, rubbing his lower back. “Though I imagine I'll be feeling it later.”

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