Page 57 of Rough Riding Orc Cowboy

Joel went with iced coffee, Pete asked for water, and Carol requested juice.

I set everything down in front of them, barely holding onto my shaky composure.

“You, um…” Mary's face pinkened, and she shot a glance Ruugar's way. His back faced us, and he was studiously cutting chunks off the enormous slab of meat. “Ruugar's such a sweet guy, isn't he?”

“Yes,” I said slowly, unsure where she was going with this.

“You should?—”

“Mary,” Joel chided. “Let these youngins figure this out on their own.”

“Oh, I will, Joel. I'm just trying to help them along.”

Figure this out? Help them along? Were they actually playing matchmaker between Ruugar and me?

I'd cry from the kindness of it except I was afraid if I started crying, I’d be doing it because of anything but them being sweet.

Pete stood suddenly and moved to Ruugar’s side, speaking to him in a low whisper. He kept shooting me odd looks. Whatever he said made Ruugar’s entire frame stiffen. Pete clapped him on the shoulder and returned to the table, where the others immediately leaned in, sharing hushed whispers among themselves.

More secrecy. More distance. Whatever this was, I wasn’t part of it, and that made my sad mood even bleaker.

I turned back to my task, focusing on slicing the carrots, but my hand holding the knife trembled. I gripped the handle tighter, like it would keep me from dissolving into the background where I clearly belonged. But the blade wavered on the wood, the tip skittering over the surface as if even it refused to follow my lead.

I wasn’t part of this. Maybe I never had been. I didn'tfit inanywhere. I had hoped, after how kind Ruugar was while bandaging my wound, that maybe he didn’t regret helping me. That hope was gone.

Ruugar still wasn’t looking at me. His hands worked mindlessly, his shoulders hunched like he was bracing himself for something. What, though?

Every few minutes, he sent me a long look, and I girded myself for whatever might be coming. If he told me he was taking me back, I’d be strong. I’d force a smile and thank him for the help he’d given me. Try not to cry while he galloped his sorhox all the way back to town where he’d leave me.

I cut a cucumber into thin slices, my hands steady enough, even though my heart wasn’t.

“You keep looking at me like you’ve got bad news,” I finally blurted out, though I kept my voice soft. No need to include our guests in what might be an embarrassing conversation. “If you need to tell me that you’re taking me back to Lonesome Creek, just say it.”

His head whipped in my direction, his brows lowering.

Heat climbed my throat. “I get it.” I shrugged even though it felt like my ribs would crack in half from the gesture. “If you can’t take the time, but you still want to bring me to town, I’ll do my best to stay out of your way.”

He made a low sound deep in his chest but didn’t actually deny it.

The celery splintered between my fingers, a perfect match for the way I felt. The pieces tumbled across thecutting board, forgotten. I willed my eyes to stay dry. It was stupid to think he’d seen me as anything worthwhile, even for a second. I was a problem he had to work around, not something welcome.

More whispering erupted from those behind us. Isolation settled deeper in my chest.

Ruugar cleared his throat, his shoulders tensing as he reached into his pocket. “It’s not that. Not at all.”

Truly? My heart perked up a little.

The tourists went silent. I swore I heard Mary gasp, but I didn't turn around. Instead, I focused on Ruugar as he slowly pulled something free.

A rock about the size of my palm.

He held it out toward me with great care, cradling the smooth stone like it was something precious.

I blinked. “Uh…”

“It is a good size,” Ruugar said gruffly, his voice deeper than usual. “Weighted well. Smooth edges. It won’t catch on the hand when thrown.”

Thrown?

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