Page 71 of Buck Wild Orc Cowboy
“These are new.” He took me over to a long workbench where several pieces rested under cloth, and pulled the fabric back gently.
I stepped closer, whistling low. The glaze on one of the tall vases shimmered from deep blue to green to black. Another had fine ridges carved all the way down, each stroke perfectly even. “These are incredible, Hail. Aunt Inla’s going to sell out of these before she can put a price on them.”
He ducked his head at the praise. “Tourists like things with stories. I make each one feel like it’s got a tale to tell.”
“They do.” I touched the rim of an orc-sized mug I’d love to buy myself. I’d let our aunt know to put one aside for me when Hail brought them in. Three, actually. Max and Holly would enjoy them too. “You’ve got the hands of a craftsman and the soul of a poet.”
He huffed, and his pointed ears darkened. “You could do this. You’ve got patience. The right hands.”
“I like the bakery,” I said. “I enjoy feeding people.”
He nodded. “We make things that help others feel at home.”
We stood there for a long moment, the barn filled with the scent of clay and the soft flicker of light on the gleaming, curved surfaces.
“Thanks again,” I said finally. “For everything.”
“You’d do the same for me.”
In a heartbeat.
We left the barn, Tressa trotting ahead of us, and I swung onto Zist’s back once we reached his back porch.
With a wave, he went inside. I guided Zist back onto the main road. Stars wheeled overhead, and Zist’s clawed hooves tapped a steady rhythm on the road. With Hail watching over Max, Holly could work at the bakery without worry.
I’d watch over her, though I wouldn’t be there solely to protect her body. Her heart was my concern too. I hoped she knew she could trust me to hold it gently.
She and Max were already under my roof, already changing everything about the way my house felt, the wayIfelt.
I wanted to be different for her. Not only a strong pair of arms or a good baker. I wanted to be someone she could lean on. Someone who’d help her breathe easier. Someone worth the risk.
The lights of my house appeared ahead. I slowed Zist as we approached, listening for anything unusual, but all was quiet.
Zist snorted, and I patted his neck. “We’re going to be alright.”
At the barn, I leaped off his back. I groomed him well and sent him into the pasture with the others.
After going inside to brush my tusks and make sure everything was alright, which it was, I climbed up into the hayloft and settled in my bed.
Tomorrow, I’d tell Max he’d have help with the youngling sorhox. I’d talk to Holly and maybe make her something sweet she could savor with her morning tea.
Little things. Real things. Like Hail mentioned the other day. They’d make the difference.
One day, she’d start to see she was safe here.
That she could find a forever home with me.
Chapter 25
Holly
The picnic basket auction would be held in two days, and Gracie and I met up again outside the bakery to go through the final plans. And sip tea and eat goodies, because friendship and planning should always be rewarded with treats like that.
Leaving Sel to finish in the kitchen, we walked out into the front area, where the smell of crispy hushroot dough and sweetstone glaze filled my senses. The afternoon rush had waned, and Sel should be able to handle everything while I was gone. I could step inside if we got many customers, however.
While I poured tea into two gorgeous pottery mugs Sel said his brother Hail had made, Gracie stood behind the counter, choosing treats for us to savor with our tea.
Duskbark scrolls, one of my favorites. Their swirled centers were packed with spiced nut crumbles, and we’d drizzled them with shimmering sugarroot syrup that caught the light like amber glass. She added a few pale-green snowleaf clusters to our plates, the petals delicate and thin as paper, baked until the edges curled like actual leaves.
