Page 28 of Buck Wild Orc Cowboy
He gave a small shrug like it wasn’t a big deal. But it was. To me, it was everything.
I trusted him. That thought settled deep in my belly. Trust wasn’t something I gave away easily. A big part of me wanted to get up and walk the length of the house to shake it off. Instead, I remained in the chair and let it sink deeper.
“Any time Max puts real work into the animals,” Sel said, “like grooming, feeding, helping with harness practice, I’ll pay him for his time.”
I lifted my brows. “That’s generous, but maybe it doesn’t need to go that far yet. He’s just a kid.”
“He’d be helping.” A quiet smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Work is work. You want him to grow? Earning something teaches a youngling not only how to handle money, but the financial value of work. He’s young, but not too young to start learning.”
There was no arguing with that. I’d tried to teach Max about effort, follow-through, not expecting anything for free. But there were whole months when I’d been too tired or full of worry to do more than get us through the day. Hearing him name it like that hurt a little. But it helped even more.
I nodded. “He’d probably love that, honestly. Having his own money.”
Sel smiled, satisfied.
We sat quietly, but it felt nice. Soothing. I leaned back, letting my muscles loosen. The rest of my tea sat forgotten on the table. My fingers didn’t need the mug-in-hand anymore.
Sel sat the same as before, relaxed, with his arms resting on the back of the couch and his knee. His hands were big, callused from working hard all his life. His eyes weren’t guarded, just open.
I felt bad for him, for what he'd lost, for what both he and Max had lost. As for me? Melvin was an asshole, but at least I had my son.
How strange that I didn’t feel nervous around someone so big. There’d been times when the sound of a boot heel too close behind me would make my whole body tense up. That kind of shrinking never really left a person. But here I was, watching Sel take up space in such an easy way, and all it did was make mefeel like I didn’t have to shrink at all. If anything, I felt safer with him than I had with anyone else.
For the first time in what felt like forever, silence wasn’t heavy. It existed, and I was okay with that.
The back door creaked open, and Max called out. He came down the hall, stopping in the living room doorway. His smile could’ve lit the whole house.
My chest tightened at the sight of it. He was happy, as if he didn’t have the weight of one single thing in the world pressing down on him. That was all I’d ever wanted for my boy. And seeing it after everything we’d come from made me feel like I was being split open and stitched up all at once.
“I’m going to brush my teeth and read for a while,” he said, nudging up his glasses with his thumb.
“Okay, sweetie. Need anything?”
“Nope.” He shrugged. “This is the best day ever.” He said it like it was the most obvious truth in the world. Like good days were normal. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d heard that kind of certainty in his voice.
My breath got tangled in my throat. I barely managed to smile as I blinked fast. “Glad to hear it.”
Max disappeared down the hall, and a second later, his door closed with a click.
We could explain our plan to him in the morning. I was sure he'd be thrilled to be given some independence. Plus a task—grooming Brelar. Money to spend on whatever he pleased.
I turned back toward Sel, the warmth from Max’s words still curling around me. “I still don’t like you sleeping in the loft.”
“I’ll bring out some blankets, make a nice bed in the hay.”
My eyebrows rose. “Seriously? That’s not a bed.”
“It’s not, but it’s fine. It’s enough for me.” He meant it. I didn't hear one trace of complaint in his voice.
Something in me pulled a little tighter and looser at the same time.
“Alright then.” I stood, lingering a heartbeat too long, unsure what else to say. Part of me wanted to ask if he wanted to go outside, maybe walk around the pasture, maybe talk a little more about anything and everything. The other part of me, the cautious part, told me to give this some space to grow.
“Goodnight, Sel,” I finally said. “Thanks again. For everything.”
I didn’t know if we were safe yet, but for the first time in years, I wasn’t looking over my shoulder.
I was looking forward.
