“Yes, I’m Carla. Carla Smith.”
“Holly. Holly Bronish.” She extended her hand over the counter for a shake.
“I was hoping to grab some pastries and coffee to take to the arena,” I said, studying the amazing selection. “A sort of peace offering for Becken.”
“Smart thinking,” said a boy who had to be Holly’s son. He stood in the open doorway to the adjacent room, wearing an oversized apron dusted with flour that made him look like a chef-in-training, yet glasses that made him look scholarly. “Mom, should I tell her about the maple bars?”
Holly laughed. “Max, meet Carla Smith. Carla? This is my son, Max. And yes, definitely tell her about the maple bars.”
“Becken’s got a serious weakness for them,” Max said with a grin. “Like, he’ll actually smile when you bring him one. It’s kind of scary.”
“Max,” Holly chided, but she was still smiling. “Don’t scare off our new friend.”
Ah, friend? I…wasn’t sure what to think about that.
“I think I did a pretty good job of scaring people away myself last night,” I said. “I walked in there acting like I knew everything about your operation when I’d never even seen a sorhox before.”
“We all jump in when we’re extra enthused. I saw it as a sign of your excitement for the project.”
That was kind.
Holly’s expression softened. “Becken’s not much of a morning person even on good days, but he’s got a sweet heart. He’s protective of his work and the sorhoxes.”
“And he should be. From what little I heard, he knows what he’s doing.” I gestured toward the display case. “So I’ll buy two maple bars. What else might help my cause?”
“Bear claws,” Max said. “And those cinnamon twists Mom made this morning. Oh, and definitely tea. Becken loves our peppermint tea.”
Holly was already filling a bakery box.
I found myself smiling for the first time since yesterday’s disaster. “How long have you lived here?”
“Eight months.” Holly added a covered cup of peppermint tea to my growing collection. “We moved here when I took a position at the bakery with Sel. Then I fell in love with him. We’re mates, which is the same as married to orcs. Max was a little skeptical about small-town life at first, but he loves it here as much as I do.”
“It’s actually pretty cool,” Max said. “Especially once the tourists started coming. And the orcs are awesome. Becken taught me how to rope last month.”
The casual way he mentioned orcs struck me. In most places, they’d still be a novelty, something to stare at or whisper about. Here, they were just part of the community. Part of the family, from what I’d observed.
It hadn’t been that long since orcs emerged from below the ground—their orc kingdom, to be exact. Treaties were formed, and orcs now lived among us, taking jobs, going to baseball games, and dating humans.
“Sel should be back from his morning deliveries soon,” Holly said, her face lighting up in a way that made my heart twist tight. “He’s been experimenting with a new cinnamon roll recipe, and I swear he gets more excited about perfecting the glaze than I’ve ever seen anyone get about anything.” She laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Yesterday I caught him taste-testing three different versions while muttering to himself in Orcish. When I asked what he was saying, he told me he was asking the fates for guidance with the sugar ratios.”
Max rolled his eyes, but he was grinning. “Sel talks to the ovens too. Mom thinks it’s romantic. I think it’s weird, but the bread always comes out perfect, so…”
“Itisromantic,” Holly said. “He says baking is like love. If you put your whole heart into it, magic happens.”
The easy affection in her voice and the way her whole body softened when she talked about her mate was beautiful. It was also everything I’d spent my life watching from the outside. Even growing up, I’d been the kid observing other families at school pickup, wondering what it felt like to have someone’s face light up just because you rushed toward their car.
“That’s really lovely,” I said.
“Don’t let yesterday worry you too much.” Holly handed me the box and two cups of tea across the counter. “This town has a way of humbling people. But it also has a way of making them family.”
She wasn’t talking about relatives who tolerated your presence out of obligation, but actually chosen family. I’d seen it last night in the saloon—the easy way everyone interacted, thegenuine affection and teasing. The kind of belonging I’d spent my whole life wanting.
“That’s…that’s really nice,” I said.
“Give it time,” Holly said. “And give Becken time too. He’s been through a lot. Change isn’t easy for anyone.”
I nodded, filing that information away. There was clearly more to Becken’s story, but I’d already pushed enough boundaries for one day. “What do I owe you?”
