I changed and handed the suit to my aunt.
After she left, awkward silence filled the open function hall. Carla busied herself with straightening decorations while I watched her.
“Are we done for the day?” she asked in a strained voice, not meeting my eyes.
“Yes, unless you have anything else you want to discuss about the rodeo.” Please, anything would do. I wouldn’t even mind going over everything we’d completely covered.
I wanted to be near her.
“Not right now.” She grabbed her coat from the hook near the front doors and scooted outside, leaving me standing among fake snow, fake trees, and fake cookies.
Filled with longing for her.
With a sigh, I left, closing up and locking the barn doors. As I walked toward the hotel and my lonely room, I thought about the way Carla had integrated into the community over the past week. At the bakery, Holly treated her like a sister, including her in decisions related to the festival preparations. Jessi had started saving her favorite table at the saloon each evening. Even Grannie Lil had taken to offering unsolicited advice about “that grumpy orc of yours,” as if Carla’s attachment to me was obvious to everyone.
They all loved her. More than that, they’d claimed her as family in the way she’d never experienced growing up. She’d found what she’d always wanted here, belonging, acceptance, and people who valued her for herself rather than her usefulness.
She just hadn’t found that with me.
I felt left out of Carla’s joy. I wanted to be a part of what made her happy, not a colleague she worked with before moving on to whoever offered her the next job.
The thought crystallized something I’d been avoiding thinking about. Despite telling myself I wasn’t ready for love or a mating, and despite the guilt over moving forward after Wexla, I couldn’t stop thinking about Carla. The bond was part of it, but not all. Even without golden marks connecting us, I would’ve been drawn to her determination, her hidden vulnerability, her fierce loyalty to people she cared about.
She was incredible. Amazing. And I couldn’t imagine not being with her every single day of my life.
I was falling in love with her. This wasn’t the comfortable partnership I’d shared with Wexla, but something deeper, more intense. The kind of love that made you willing to fight the world to protect someone’s happiness. The kind of love that made you plan elaborate Christmas surprises for someone who’d never had a real Christmas morning.
The snow globe. I’d been thinking about it since she’d told me the story while we were stranded. How it had played “I’ll Be Home for Christmas”. Her foolish relatives who saw sentiment as inconvenience had lost it.
I could give that back to her. Not the original, but something close enough to heal the wound. And maybe, if I was very lucky, show her that some people were worth staying for.
But I couldn’t do this on my own. Dungar might have suggestions. I wanted this to be perfect. Something that showed I understood what Christmas meant to this mate of mine I craved like no other.
The saloon was busy when I arrived, tourists and a few people from surrounding towns dining on Lavon’s excellent food. I spotted Ostor and Tark at a corner table, their heads bent over papers.
“What are you doing?” I asked, approaching, seeing blueprints spread out in front of them.
“Beth and Ruugar’s house.” Ostor looked up with a smile. “They need more space for their youngling. Tark’s designing an addition, but we thought we could add some suggestions. What if they have two younglings? They’ll need more room.”
“I think that’s a great idea.” I sat, and we talked about how the structure could be improved, making a plan to start the groundwork this spring. Finishing, we sat back, sharing grins. Itwas easy to be happy for Ruugar and Beth, to think about how cozy their home would be with their new youngling.
Returning to my earlier thoughts, my smile fell. “I need advice.”
“Are you planning on younglings?” Ostor quipped. “Rosey and I are.”
“Really? She’s carrying your youngling?”
His chest puffed. “Not yet as far as I know, but we’re hopeful.”
I envied him the love of his mate, his happy situation. Was anything like that possible for me and Carla? It wasn’t hard to start dreaming of a cozy home I’d build with my cousins. My mate smiling at me across our kitchen table. Sitting with her in the evening in our living room. Playing cards. Teaching her orc games and laughing while we both cheated to win.
Carrying her to bed each night…
I could suggest we start building a house for me in the spring, and I’d insist on at least three bedrooms.
“What kind of advice do you need?” Tark asked.
“It’s about Carla.” First, I had to win my mate’s heart. All the rest wouldn’t come if I couldn’t do that. “I want to do something special for her for Christmas.” It was a fragile start, but it was all I could think of.
