Maybe in my small way, I can be of use here.
Chapter Nine
Ginger
I toss and turn all night, thinking about Grak.
I wonder if he’s sleeping any better than I am.
There’s no way to chalk up the experience of meeting an orc to a dream or a nightmare if I’m not sleeping at all.
In the morning, I wake to the sound of Dad already busy in the wood shop, the familiar high-pitched whine of the table saw bringing me back to childhood.
I pour some coffee in my favorite mug and look out the kitchen window. A fresh blanket of snow covers the path between the house and the wood shop. Wow. Dad must have gotten up really early to get started.
The idea that he’s feeling especially motivated to do something for himself in his happy place makes me smile. He’s been working so hard taking care of Mom; he deserves some alone time with his tools, fresh-cut wood, and table saws. He deserves this.
As for me, it’s almost 9 a.m., which is ungodly late for a farmer’s daughter, even a Christmas tree farmer. I bundle up and get ready to head down to the main gate.
On the way to the front gate, I decide to take a short side trek to the cabin to check on Grak.
It’s about a quarter of a mile walk through the woods to the cabin, and on the way, I get lost in my thoughts.
Grak really is handsome, for an orc.
Then again, I’ve always had an affinity for them, if I’m honest with myself.
Though he looks very different in real life than orcs do in the game. In the game, they have giant, protruding tusks, a messy bun, a pig-like snout, sharply pointed ears, and dead eyes. Besides the nose, the most significant difference is that Grak’s tusks aren’t that noticeable until he opens his mouth to speak. His hair is combed and done in a neat bun on the top of his head, so it’s hard to tell what his hair is really like.
He is an orc who takes better care of himself than a lot of human men I know.
Before I reach the cabin, my father interrupts my thoughts by pulling up next to me on the snowmobile.
“Hey, Gingersnap,” he says, cutting off the engine.
“Dad! What are you doing out here?” I ask.
“Thought I’d get some fresh air. Felt like going to the east ridge to watch the sunrise before I opened the gate.”
“That’s funny, I had the same idea.”
He cocks his head. “You know, I think someone has been squatting in the cabin. I thought I saw smoke coming from the chimney, so I went to check it out.”
My stomach drops to my feet as Dad describes this. Dad saw Grak? Oh no, oh no, oh no! I fix my face to give nothing away.
He goes on, “But when I got there, there was nobody around. The fire was out but still warm. And there wasn’t any signthat anyone had been there otherwise. I looked around, and everything else was just as I’d left it, with some pallets in the corner.”
“Huh. Maybe we should install a security camera,” I reply. What am I saying?
“Maybe you’re right. We’ll need one anyway once we start renting it out,” he says, scratching his head. “Though it was the damnedest thing…”
“Wh-what?”
“Well,” he says, “you know that trim that I ordered for the doors? It was already installed.”
I swallow. “Didn’t you already install that?”
He shakes his head. “Unless I have early-onset dementia.”
