4. Hail
Hail
A fter Allie left, I stood in the barn for a while, staring at the empty doorway where she’d disappeared. The space felt different without her. Lonelier, which was odd since I was almost always alone.
I shook my head and got back to work. The tourist pieces needed to be properly spaced on the drying shelves, and I had to check the kiln to make sure it would be ready for the firing.
Basic tasks I’d done hundreds of times, but tonight they felt different too.
More purposeful, maybe, knowing that tomorrow Allie would be here to help me put them in the kiln and present the creations to those who’d made them.
I couldn’t believe I was going to hire someone I’d just met. But I supposed that was how it was for all bosses. They met the person once and decided on the spot.
If nothing else, I knew Allie would fit in here well. She’d shown that she not only knew how to make pottery, but that she was kind. Tressa adored her, which astonished me as well. My wolf friend usually took time to warm up to people.
Aunt Inla had been after me to hire someone, and I agreed I needed help, but I’d never been any better with new people than Tressa. Worse, actually. She would wag her tail and maybe let someone new pet her. I tended to pivot and run in the opposite direction if someone new came near.
Allie was different. I couldn’t pin down how.
Perhaps it was the way she’d moved through the crowd today, helping people with their clay problems, answering questions with confidence and kindness.
She’d known exactly what to say to the woman with the collapsing mug and how to help the boy with his falling-apart dog.
And when she’d looked at me across the barn, I’d felt less alone than I had in months. Ever, actually.
My stutter barely showed up when I talked to her. With tourists, my words tangled and twisted no matter how hard I tried to control them.
Tressa padded over and sat beside me, her amber eyes watching as I arranged the last pieces on the shelf.
“What do you think, sweet one?” I asked, scratching behind her ears. “Would it be a mistake to offer Allie a job?”
Tressa tilted her head and gave me a look that clearly said I was being ridiculous for even asking.
I finished up in the barn and headed toward the saloon with Tressa trotting beside me. A few tourists gave her wide-eyed looks, and one leaped off the boardwalk as if he thought my wolf might attack, but the rest either wanted to pat her or ignored her.
The evening air felt cool and smelled sweet, and the sounds of tourists enjoying their dinner drifted from the restaurant and saloon. Lonesome Creek was thriving, like my brothers and I had hoped it would when we bought this valley and started building our dream.
The saloon was busy when I walked in, mostly tourists sitting at tables or at the bar. My brother, Greel, worked behind the counter, polishing glasses with his usual stoic expression. When he saw me, he nodded toward an empty table in the corner.
I’d just sat down when heavy footsteps announced my cousin’s arrival.
Becken pushed through the saloon doors and surveyed the room with a scowl that could have tainted sorhox milk.
At over seven-feet-tall with shoulders broad enough to block out the sun, he was an imposing figure even by orc standards.
His dark hair was pulled back in a leather tie, and he wore the same jeans-and-vest combination the rest of us favored, though his vest looked brand new.
He probably picked it up at the general store recently.
I would not tell him a brand-new vest made him look like a tourist.
“This place is crowded,” he announced, making his way over to where I sat.
“It’s supposed to-to-to be…busy,” I said. “That’s the-the whole point of a tourist town.”
Becken grunted and lowered himself into the chair across from me. “Still don’t understand why all of you wanted to come to the surface. The kingdom was perfectly fine.”
“The kingdom was underground. No natural…light for pottery.”
“No tourists either.”
I couldn’t argue with that logic, though I was starting to think tourists might not be so bad. Especially if they brought people like Allie into my life.
“Then why did you offer to come here and-and-and handle the…rodeo?” I asked, though I knew. His mate had died, and he needed to find something to occupy his mind.
“I’m here. That’s all that matters.”
Greel appeared at our table with two tankards of ale, setting them down in front of us. “Food?” he asked.
“Whatever Jessi’s making,” I said. “Smells…g-g-good.”
Becken nodded, and Greel disappeared back toward the kitchen.
I took a sip of my drink, savoring the unusual flavor.
The first time my brothers and I tried this beverage, we drank too much.
Before you knew it, we were singing—and none of us had good singing voices.
We’d laughed, had a lot of fun, then woke up the next morning with horrifying headaches.
While we all drank ale on occasion now, we limited it to one mug.
Becken’s scowl deepened. “I still think this rodeo idea is a strange way to entertain people. In the kingdom, you tame the sorhoxes before you ride them. The last thing you’d ever do is train them to be unruly while you’re on their back.”
“These had to be trained to buck on command,” I said with a touch of pride. I’d worked on the first five we’d use for the event. “You should see h-h-how well one of them leaps around. It’s…fun. You’ll love bull riding yourself.”
“Maybe?” He scratched the back of his neck and tugged on his vest. “No one will expect me to actually ride them, will they? I thought I’d be spending most of my time with the organization and managerial side of things.”
“You’re probably right. I s-s-still think it’s worth jumping up onto one and-and-and seeing what they do.” I’d already shared the commands I’d trained them with. “Just hold on tight.”
Frowning, he nodded slowly. “I’ve been reading about this rodeo business. Apparently there are lots of rules.”
“Dungar looked it all up…online. We don’t want anyone g-g-getting hurt. Gracie helped us put together the waiver everyone w-w-will have to sign b-b-before they get to try a…bucking sorhox.”
A table of women near the bar caught my eye. They kept stealing glances in our direction. Well, in Becken’s direction. They were whispering among themselves and giggling, clearly fascinated by my cousin. Should I tell him?
Probably not. He wouldn’t be interested in them. Interested in anyone, actually. It hadn’t been long since Wexla died.
Becken, oblivious to the attention, continued sharing his plans for the rodeo. “It looks like the paperwork you put together is solid.”
“It’s all in the d-desk.”
We’d built the corral and stands where the rodeo would take place on the outskirts of town, plus a small office building and a few concession stands. We still needed to hire staff to handle the latter.
“I’m not sure I fully understand what insurance is,” he said.
“It’s complicated. Basically, if s-s-someone gets hurt, insurance p-pays for their medical bills s-so they don’t sue us.”
“Sue us?”
“Try to get money from us because they got injured.”
Becken stared at me. “They can do that? Even if they chose to climb on a sorhox?”
“App-apparently.”
“Surface dwellers are strange.”
Tressa, who had been lying quietly beside my chair, got up and padded over to Becken. She rested her chin on his thigh and looked up at him with adoring eyes.
Becken scratched behind her ears. Tressa’s tail thumped on the floor, and she shot a look toward the table of women as if to say, he’s taken, ladies.
Jessi emerged from the kitchen carrying two loaded plates of food, weaving between tables with the grace of someone who’d been doing this for months. She set our food down in front of us with a smile.
“How’s the pottery business, Hail?” she asked.
“Good. Really g-g-good, actually. I h-had help today with a b-b-big class.”
“Oh?” Jessi’s eyebrows rose. “From whom?”
“A woman named Allie. She’s new…in town.”
“The pretty brunette who raved about my dartling muffins?” Jessi grinned. “I like her. She’s sweet.”
“She is,” I said, then realized how that sounded. “I mean, she was helpful with the po-po-pottery class. She’s good with people.”
Jessi’s grin widened, but before she could say anything else, Greel appeared beside our table.
“More ale?” he asked, though his eyes were fixed on me rather than our nearly full tankards.
“Still drinking,” I said. Sipping, actually. I didn’t want a headache tomorrow morning. “I wanted to ask you about Allie.”
Greel’s expression didn’t change, but I caught the tightening around his eyes that meant he was paying attention. “What about her?”
“She…helped me with the pottery class today. I was wondering…” I trailed off, feeling foolish.
“Wondering what?”
“Aunt Inla said s-s-she’s looking for work, that she likes Allie. I wanted your op…op…opinion.” Though I didn’t really need it. I’d pretty much made up my mind to offer her a job already.
What I wanted to ask was if Greel felt there was something special about her like I did, but that would be strange. He and Jessi were mates. He wouldn’t give anyone else more than a cursory glance.
Greel studied me for a long moment. “Are you thinking of hiring her?”
“The pottery business is growing, and I…I…I could use someone who…understands people better than I do.”
“She’s solid,” Greel said. “Seems like the kind who’d work hard if you gave her the chance.” Coming from Greel, a male of almost-no words, that was a stunning recommendation.
“You should hire her,” Becken said around a mouthful of food. “If she can handle tourists, she’s worth her weight in fymsom.”