2. Hail #2
Tressa had other ideas. She tugged away from me and sat at the woman’s feet, staring up at her with the kind of adoring look she saved for me when I had smoked sorhox.
“Hello there, beautiful,” the woman crooned, reaching out to let Tressa sniff her hand before scratching behind her ears. “Aren’t you simply lovely.”
Tressa melted under her touch, making a sound that was almost a purr, her amber eyes drifting half-closed in pure bliss.
I stared at them both. “I’ve never... I mean, she’s never done that with anyone.
She-she-she doesn’t like…anyone but me and my brothers.
With strangers, she watches from her corner.
” She wasn’t aggressive, thankfully, or I’d have to leave her at my house.
She just wasn’t overly friendly, not with anyone she didn’t know.
“She’s a sweetie. Such a huge dog. Is she from the orc kingdom?”
“No, Tressa’s a wolf.”
Her eyes widened. “A real wolf?”
I nodded. “Real.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, wolfy Tressa.” The woman stooped down and actually hugged my pet.
Rising, she gave me a soft smile and stepped around Tressa, over to one of my display shelves, looking at a set of coffee mugs I’d finished last week. The glaze had turned out particularly well, a deep green that shifted to blue depending on the light.
“These are incredible.” Genuine wonder shone in her voice. “The color is amazing. How do you get it to shift like that?”
Tressa gazed at the woman with pure joy.
I blinked at her instead. Most tourists asked about prices, not techniques. “It’s-it’s copper in the glaze. Copper carbonate. It reacts differently…” I swallowed. “Depending on the oxygen levels in the… in the kiln.”
“The firing process affects the final color?”
“Yes.” The word came out without a stutter, probably because I was too surprised by her interest to be nervous.
She studied the mug, seemingly unbothered by my green skin or the tusks that most humans couldn’t help but stare at when they first met me.
Instead, her eyes were fixed entirely on my work.
“Different atmospheres create different effects. This one was fired in reduction, so-so-so the copper turned green instead of red.”
She picked up one of the mugs, turning it with the kind of careful attention that made my chest heat. “It’s beautiful. Really beautiful.”
“Thank you. I don’t... Most people don’t really look at them th-th-that closely.”
“Then most people are missing out.” She set the mug back down carefully and looked at me with brown eyes. “You made all of these?”
“I did. It’s my-my-my pottery barn. I mean, I work here. I live here. Not here in the barn, but n-n-nearby.”
She almost smiled at that, and it transformed her whole face. “I’m Allison…Tuttle. Actually…” She blinked before her lips twitched upward and her eyes met mine again. “Call me Allie. It’s, uh, short for Allison. Tuttle, though. Anyway. I arrived in town today.”
“I’m Hail,” I said, then realized I should probably offer more information. “I’m one of the orc brothers who-who-who runs Lonesome Creek. This is m-m-my pottery studio.”
“One of the brothers?” Her eyebrows rose. “How many of you are there?”
“Six. No. There are… There will be seven of us here, including my c-c-cousin Becken, who will arrive from the kingdom soon to help with…” I stopped myself before I could ramble about rodeo planning and family dynamics. “There are many of us.”
“And you’re all cowboys?” Her voice almost sounded teasing, though not mocking. More like she found the idea charming.
“We’re trying to be. It’s…harder than it looks in the mo-movies.
” If anyone knew, it was us. My oldest brother, Dungar, kept insisting we watch all the old west movies to not only learn cowboy techniques but ways to woo a female.
I’d watched a few, but as for wooing, I doubted anyone would look at me long enough for something like that.
Allie was pretty when she smiled.
“I imagine it would be.” She glanced around the barn again, taking in the pottery wheels, the hall leading to the kiln in the smaller building built onto the back of the barn, and the shelves holding finished pieces. “This is really something. You built all this yourself?”
“My brothers helped with-with the construction. But the pottery set up, yeah. That’s all me.” I found myself standing a little straighter. Even talking easier, which was a nice change. “I’ve been working with clay most of my life, but th-this is the first real studio I’ve had.”
“It shows. You can tell this is a space where someone creates something they love.”
The words hit me right in the chest. She understood. Somehow, this stranger who’d wandered into my barn understood what this place meant to me better than most of the tourists who came through for demonstrations and classes.
“Are you here for the weekend?” I asked, immediately wishing I could take back the words. Of course she was. All the tourists who came to Lonesome Creek were passing through.
She hesitated before answering, her attention flicking to Tressa who looked ready to flop on the floor and roll onto her back for belly rubs. “I’m not sure yet. I might be staying longer. I’m actually looking for work.”
“What kind of work?”
“Anything, really. I met your aunt at the general store, and she mentioned you might need help with the business side of things.”
Aunt Inla. I should’ve known she’d mention me. She’d been not-so-subtly suggesting I needed an assistant for weeks, claiming I was too focused on the art to handle customers properly. She wasn’t wrong.
I looked at Allie again, really looked at her. She seemed genuinely interested in the pottery, not just making polite conversation. And when she’d asked about the glazing process, her questions had been intelligent. Specific.
“I don’t really have a-a-a business,” I said honestly. “I mean, I sell pieces through the general store. I do demonstrations for tourists. That’s not exactly a thri-thriving enterprise.”
“Maybe it could be, with the right help.” Her quiet confidence made me want to believe her, but I’d learned to be cautious about hope. It had a way of turning into disappointment.
“I should probably let you get back to your work,” she said, misreading my silence. Turning, she strode toward the door, only pausing to give Tressa one last, lingering pat, then speaking over her shoulder. “Thank you for letting me look around. Bye, Hail. Bye, Tressa.”
“Wait.” The word popped out before I could stop it. She paused at the barn entrance, looking back at me.
I had no idea what I wanted to say. Only that I didn’t want her to leave. She made the barn feel less empty. Made me feel less alone.
“The demonstration tomorrow,” I said finally, “at two o’clock. Please come. That is-that is-that is if you’re interested in pottery.”
“I will.” Her smile came out warmer this time, less guarded. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Hail.” She left, closing the door behind her.
After, I stood in my barn with clay drying on my hands and my heart doing something peculiar in my chest.
Tressa whined and came over to rub her face against my thigh.
“What just happened?” I asked her.
She tilted her head and gave me a look that clearly said I was supposed to figure that out on my own. How was I supposed to do that?
I went back to the pottery wheel, but the clay had gone too dry to work with. Just as well. I wouldn’t have been able to concentrate anyway.
Tomorrow. Allie was coming back tomorrow.
I had no idea why that thought made me want to spend the next eighteen hours making sure every piece in the barn looked perfect, but apparently that was exactly what I was going to do.