Thornak's expression doesn't change, but I can see slight tightening around his eyes that suggests he knows exactly where this conversation leads.
"You should take him around the forest today." Maddie continues, her tone bright with manufactured enthusiasm. "Show him the trails, the conservation work, maybe explain how the seasonal management affects the whole ecosystem."
"Maddie—" I start, recognizing the matchmaking impulse that's gotten her into trouble before.
"It's a brilliant idea!" She turns to Brakkor with the kind of determined cheerfulness that's impossible to argue with. "You'll love it. Thornak knows every inch of those woods, and the autumn colors are absolutely spectacular right now."
Brakkor glances at me, then at Thornak, clearly weighing his options. "I wouldn't want to impose?—"
"No imposition." Thornak's response comes measured and practical. "Might be useful for you to understand the land before writing about it."
And just like that, Maddie's gentle manipulation succeeds. The two orcs head toward the door together, leaving me alone with my coffee and the sudden realization that my quiet Sunday morning has taken an entirely unexpected turn.
The door swings shut behind them, leaving the warm scent of cinnamon and the soft murmur of other Sunday morning customers. I turn back to Maddie, who's already grinning with the satisfaction of a successful operation.
"Subtle as a brick through a window." I settle onto one of the stools at the counter, wrapping my hands around my coffee cup. "You just sent your husband off with the only person in town who hasn't learned to steer clear of his moods."
"Thorn doesn't have moods." Maddie wipes down the counter with unnecessary vigor. "He has... thoughtful silences."
"Right. And I suppose those thoughtful silences have nothing to do with why most people give him a wide berth when he's working the trails."
Her laugh bubbles up genuine and warm. "Maybe Brakkor's exactly what he needs. Someone who won't back down from a little intensity."
"Someone who won't back down from anything, more like." I watch her face, noting the subtle shift in her expression. "Though I have to ask—why does Thornak need a friend right now? Is there something specific going on?"
Maddie's hands still on the cloth. For a moment, the easy warmth dims from her features.
"Another shipment went missing yesterday." She folds the cloth with precise movements, avoiding my eyes. "The flour I ordered for next week's special orders. Third time this month."
The familiar weight settles in my chest—the same heaviness I've carried since this whole mess began unraveling. "Maddie?—"
"But enough about that." She waves her hand, dismissing the concern before it can take root. "I want to know what's really going on, Cal. Not the careful editor version. What's happening with all these supply issues? And don't tell me it's just temporary delays. With the festival just around the corner, I have to admit… I'm worried."
I study her face, reading the genuine worry beneath her determined cheerfulness. Maddie knows this town better than anyone—she feels its pulse through every customer who walks through her door, every conversation over coffee and pastries.
"A few locals have been experiencing similar issues." I choose my words carefully, falling back into the protective instincts that have guided me for years. "Nothing we can't handle. It should clear up soon enough."
Before I can say anything else, she leans against the counter, her expression shifting to something more speculative.
"Speaking of things clearing up—how's working with Brakkor? Really working with him, I mean. Not the professional partnership version."
Heat creeps up my neck, and I take a careful sip of coffee to buy time. "It's... productive. He has good instincts."
"Mm-hmm." Maddie's eyes narrow with the focused attention of someone who's just caught an interesting scent. "And that's why you had him over for dinner the other night?"
The coffee nearly goes down wrong. "How did you?—"
"Mrs. Penwhistle saw him leaving your place around nine. With a plate." Maddie grins, clearly enjoying my discomfort. "She was very thorough in her description. Apparently he looked 'well-fed and relaxed.'"
"It was just dinner. We were discussing the investigation."
"Right. Because you always cook for work colleagues." Maddie's voice carries gentle teasing, but her eyes hold something more serious. "Cal, you don't let people close unless they matter. You never have."
I open my mouth to protest, then close it again. The truth sits uncomfortably in my chest—the memory of Brakkor at my kitchen table, the unexpected ease of conversation that had nothing to do with missing shipments or falsified records.
"It's complicated."
"The best things usually are."
