18. Hail #2
I told her about what we’d found. With each word, she paled further, her hands trembling as she set down the spatula on the plate next to the stove.
“I’m not surprised.” She stared down at the counter, at the breakfast she’d been happily making. “Make sure you look around some more, because I doubt that’s their only camp.”
“Greel mentioned th-th-that. He and Dungar will look today.”
I wrapped my arms around her from behind, needing the contact as much for my own comfort as hers. She fit against me so well, her head tucked against my chest like she’d been made for this exact spot. “They aren’t here-here n-n-now.”
Tension radiated through her frame like a live wire. “I’m surprised they’re not back here already. They’re going to bring a war to this peaceful town.”
“I suspect they’d rather not d-d-draw attention.” Though I didn’t believe that for a second and neither did she.
“Until he’s mad.” Her shoulders curled forward.
I kissed the top of her head, breathing in her scent to steady myself. “Today, I’m going to show you some de-de-defensive techniques.”
“What’s that?” She turned in my arms, her eyebrows raised in that way that meant she was either amused or about to argue with me.
“Po-po-pottery tools make excellent improvised weapons,” I said seriously. “And kilns can be used stra…tegically if needed.”
She turned in my embrace, and a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth despite her fear. “Are you going to teach me pottery combat?”
“If that’s what it ta-takes to keep you safe.”
We ate and went to town, where I put out the Closed sign again.
Allie sighed but didn’t argue. No more classes until we caught Will. We’d taken a chance over the past few days, and maybe we shouldn’t have, but we wouldn’t any longer.
The day at the pottery barn felt like we were trying to make our way through thick honey.
Every sound from the street made me tense, every shadow outside the windows caught my attention.
I tried to maintain a normal facade while teaching Allie how to use clay tools defensively, but my nerves were stretched to the breaking point.
“The pottery knife has excellent balance for throwing,” I explained, showing the proper grip. “Aim for center mass, not the head. And these clay removal tools have sharp edges that can do real damage if needed.”
Allie had natural grace, and she learned quickly. But I could see the sadness in her eyes as we turned art tools into weapons, corrupting the peaceful sanctuary we’d built together.
We left, returning home, and while we prepared dinner, I shared more ways she could hide if someone tried to grab her here inside our home.
“Anything can be used as a cho-cho-chokepoint,” I said, my voice taking on the clinical tone I used when emotions threatened to overwhelm me.
“If th-th-they try to corner you, get behind something with an escape route to the side or behind. They’ll have to come around to re-re-reach you, and that gives you an advantage. ”
“I hate this,” she said, setting down the knife she was using to chop vegetables harder than necessary. “I hate that they’re making us turn this beautiful place into a war zone.”
“It’s still beautiful,” I said, though the words felt hollow. “And when this is over, we’ll make Lonesome Creek peaceful again.”
“Will we?” She looked around the barn with such wistfulness it made my heart ache. “Or will I have to run again before we get that chance?”
“You’re not running any-anywhere.” The words came out forcefully, driven by the terror of losing her. “This is your home. But it is your choice to make.” I needed to point that out. Always her choice. I just hoped she understood that her place would always be with me.
“My choice?” Fire sparked in her brown eyes, and I realized I’d stepped into dangerous territory. “What if my choice puts you in danger? What if staying here gets you killed?”
“That’s my choice to make,” I shot back, my own temper flaring to match hers. “You don’t get to decide what risks I’m willing to take.”
“And you don’t get to decide that I should stay and hide while other people fight my battles for me.” Her voice rose, echoing off the walls.
We stared at each other, both breathing hard, the air between us crackling with tension. Tressa watched us with concern from near the kitchen table, her ears swiveling back and forth.
This was our first argument, and it felt like we were standing on the edge of a cliff with no idea how deep the drop was.
“I’m not asking you to hide,” I said carefully, trying to rein in my temper before I said things I couldn’t take back. “I’m asking you to let me protect you.”
“By treating me like fragile pottery that might shatter if you’re not careful enough?
” She stepped closer, her chin raised, and the fire in her eyes made my pulse race for reasons that had nothing to do with anger.
“I’m stronger than you think, Hail. I’ve been taking care of myself for a very long time. ”
“I know you’re strong.” My voice dropped to barely above a whisper, but the intensity behind it made her breath catch. “But you don’t have to do it alone anymore.”
“What if I want to fight beside you instead of behind you?”
The question hung in the air between us, loaded with everything we hadn’t said about partnership and trust and what it meant to build a life together. But beneath the words, I found a challenge, a dare, a spark of defiance that set my blood aflame.
“You think I want you behind me?” I took a step closer, close enough to see the flecks of gold in her eyes. “You think I want you hiding while I handle everything?”
“Don’t you?” Her breath came faster now, her cheeks flushed with emotion and something else that made my control fray at the edges.
“I want you s-s-safe. I want you alive. I want to wake up beside you every-every morning for the rest of my life without wondering if this is the day I lose you.”
“And I want the same thing.” She pressed her palms against my chest, the contact sending electricity shooting through my veins. “Which is why I can’t stand by and watch while you risk everything for me.”
“ You’re everything, Allie.” I caught her wrists, holding her hands against my chest where she could feel my heart hammering. “Don’t you understand? There is no me without you anymore.”
Her pupils widened, but she didn’t back down. “Then you understand why I should run, draw them permanently away from Lonesome Creek.”
“It’s not the same?—”
“Isn’t it?” She rose on her toes, though she was so tiny, we still weren’t face to face. “You think your life matters less than mine? There is no life for me without you .”
The words hit me, and I suddenly understood. This wasn’t about her being stubborn or reckless. This was about love, the same desperate, consuming love that made me want to lock her away from all danger.
“My life has equal value.” I stroked my fingers over the pulse points where I still held her wrists.
“Then stop trying to make decisions for me.” Her voice came out softer now, but no less determined. “Trust me to make my own choices, even if they scare you.”
“They terrify me,” I said, dropping my forehead to rest against hers. “The thought of losing you sc-sc-scares me.”
“The thought of losing you scares me too, and despite the risk, I’d rather face that fear with you than spend the rest of my life running alone.”
The fight went out of me all at once, replaced by something infinitely more dangerous. She was close enough I could count her eyelashes, could feel the heat radiating from her skin, could taste the sweet puff of her breath against my lips.
“You’re impossible,” I said, sliding my hands from her wrists to frame her face.
“So are you.” Her lips curved in a smile that made my pulse skip.
“I love you. Even wh-when you’re being a stubborn, brave, impossible woman who’s going to give me a heart attack with worry.”
“I love you too. Even when you’re being an overprotective caveman who thinks he can take on the world single-handed.”
“Caveorc,” I said, making her laugh despite the tension still crackling between us.
The sound of her laughter was my undoing. I kissed her, hard and desperate and full of all the fear and love and need I couldn’t put into words.
She kissed me back, her hands latching onto my shirt to pull me closer. The kiss tasted like anger and love, like everything we’d been too afraid to say.
“I want you completely,” she whispered against my lips when we finally broke apart, both of us breathing hard. “Claim me as yours, Hail.”
The words hit me like lightning.
I swept her off her feet and carried her down the hall, kicking in our bedroom door, while she laughed and peppered kisses along my neck. Tressa trotted after us, her tail wagging as if she approved of this development.
I laid her gently on the bed before following her down. The late-day sun streamed through the windows, turning her hair to fymsom as she smiled up at me with desire shining in her eyes.
“Are we still fighting?” she asked, her fingers tracing patterns on my chest that made my skin burn.
“I hope not.” I captured her hand and pressed it flat over my heart. “Because I have much better ideas for how to spend our time.”
“Show me.” She pulled me down for another kiss.