Page 24 of The Savage Vow
She stopped at a familiar stand selling skewered meats and fresh bread. It was one of her favorites. She had never had a bad thing from them, and their pricing was always fair.
“Ah, Orlena. Lunchtime?” Vulcan, the owner, offered her a smile. He was a kind orc who had a mate and a few little ones.
Orlena had crafted his eldest son a bow about a solar ago. The young orc had dreams of being a warrior someday.
“Yes, it is. Everything smells wonderful.” She eyed the lokapi meat that was roasted to perfection.
“I see what you are looking at. Do you want one skewer or two?” Vulcan grinned at her, already reaching for her usual order.
“I’ll take that one right there.” She pointed to the skewer that held some juicy pieces of meat. She smiled.
He laughed and reached for the one she’d pointed to.
“And you know I’ll take a small loaf of bread, too.”
“Of course you will.” He gathered her order. He jerked his head to her. “I’m sure I’ll be at the shop soon. My son was saying something about his bow wasn’t working right. Don’t ask me what I mean, because I know next to nothing about them things. But I will bring him in.”
“Oh, please do. I’ll check it out for him.” She reached for her coin purse inside her bag when a voice behind her stopped her in her tracks.
“I’ll have the same thing she’s having and I’ll pay for both orders.”
It was smooth, low and husky. The unmistakable voice sent a shiver down Orlena’s spine. She spun and froze.
Bula stood there, close enough where Orlena could see the faint scars crossing her green skin, the polished curve of her tusks, and the strength coiled inside her frame. She was dressed in a simple tunic and trews. Her amber eyes softened in the corners as they connected with hers. A smile formed on her lips.
“I’d said I’d find you,” she said.
“You did,” Orlena breathed.
“Give me a second and I will get you your order, traveler,” Vulcan said. He set Orlena’s food down on the table, then went to work putting Bula’s order together.
A mere minute later, Bula paid for their food. She handed the first skewer to Orlena. Their fingers brushed briefly. Heat flared at the contact. It was sharp and startling. Orlena almost dropped her juicy meats and bread.
“Where shall we go to dine?” Bula asked.
“There’s a place I like to sit while I enjoy my lunch.” Orlena led the way. There was a spot near the center of town where they could sit on a low stone wall. It allowed her to see the entire village and be able to watch those who were coming and going.
They ate in silence for a few moments.
It didn’t bother Orlena. She hadn’t realized how famished she was. She’d been working since early that morning and had barely had anything to eat before she’d arrived at the shop.
“How was your morning?” Bula asked, breaking the silence.
“Work, as usual.” Orlena shrugged. She didn’t want to burden Bula with Yambul’s grumpiness and threats. She would need to pay close attention to the time so she wouldn’t be late. She didn’t want to chance him carrying out his threat and adding more time to her contract.
“Do you love what you do?” Bula asked.
The question gave Orlena pause. She didn’t know if she’d ever been asked that. She was damn good at what she did. She’d been working at the shop since she was eight solars.
But as she sat there and pondered the question, she came to a realization.
She did enjoy what she did.
She loved seeing those who appreciated her work. It felt good to know that some of the bows that were purchased were used to help feed a family, used for protection and enjoyment. Satisfaction always filled her when she completed a new bow. There was beauty in them, and it was like creating artwork.
“I do,” she said softly.
“I see you had to think about it,” Bula remarked. “Why is that?”
