Perfect.
She’d gotten on top of her ranching chores. A rich beef stew, a Covington family recipe handed down through the years, simmered in the Crock-Pot, filling the spacious home—built in the late eighteen hundreds—with a wonderful aroma. Daddy was in a much better mood when she took good care of him. He was an old-fashioned guy. No getting around that. And considering he’d insisted she join him in discussions with Will, the ranch manager, about selling off some of the horses, she needed him in a good mood so she could beg off. Ranching was hard work, but they had plenty of hands to do the grunt labor. The work could go on forever, from dawn to dusk, if she let it.
Since Daddy hadn’t quite stopped thinking of her as his little girl yet, even though she was twenty-four, she’d used that to her advantage. She needed time to explore her artistic side, and she’d started putting more time into that lately. The more she put into it, the more ideas for pottery designs she came up with at all hours of the day and night. Designs even took over her dreams.
The problem was that Daddy didn’t know she’d put her pieces in a gallery in town. She needed to be the one to tell him before someone else did. She hadn’t honestly thought people would buy her pieces so quickly, or that her work would actually be in demand. Getting permission to put her pieces in the studio when Daddy had never had much respect for artists—though she didn’t understand why—seemed futile. But maybe it was more that he wanted her focus on running the ranch. Maybe he was afraid of losing her to other endeavors.
She sighed, feeling her dreams tugging her away from the ranch. Who was she kidding? She was afraid her art would pull her away from the ranch, too, but she had to make it work.
Somehow, she needed to convince him that she could create and sell art, and work the ranch, too. With Ty stopping by, she’d have even more to explain.
She thought about Ty and his warm smile. Helping him with this gift for his grandmother had seemed like the right thing to do. It would help them both. She could find out if she could create a “commissioned” piece especially designed for a particular person—Ty’s grandmother—though Hayley had done the commissioning.
In her small studio, Hayley stored away the messy slip, glazes, and clays, and wiped off the counters and her Lockerbie kick wheel. She wanted to make an impression on Ty. For some reason she couldn’t explain, the man had stayed in her thoughts since she’d met him, and in a way that had nothing at all to do with pottery.
She promised herself if she ever fell for someone, he’d need to be a cowboy or a rancher, too, so he could be part of her life here. She’d come close once, a couple of years ago. But Daddy had come on strong, and Ray hadn’t stuck around long after that. She’d never been sure what happened—if Daddy had run him off, or if Ray had lost interest. But regardless his reason for moving on, Hayley had been deeply hurt.
She hadn’t met anyone since who she would be willing to risk her heart over. Maybe she’d been too isolated at the ranch, she didn’t know.
All she knew was that Ty had stayed in her thoughts. The problem was he wasn’t really a cowboy. Had no ranching experience. What was she thinking? She’d met the guy once. Her thoughts were getting away from her. She lassoed them, reining them in.
Someone knocked on the door. Hayley’s palms slicked. Calm down, girl. The thought of doing this kind of work made her giddy. When she opened the door, Ty filled the space on the other side like his smile filled his face. Then she was giddy for an entirely different reason.
“You made it.” She swung the door wide. “Come inside and see my meager little studio. But hey, it’s all mine.”
Ty stepped inside, the subtle hint of his musky cologne tickled her nose. He shrugged out of his jacket.
“I’ll take that.” Hayley hung it on the coat tree by the door along with hers.
He thrust his hands into his khaki pants, his sweater pulled tight over his broad shoulders. Hayley suddenly wondered what she’d been thinking. She had no idea how to go about this. Might as well be honest about that.
“Thanks so much for driving all the way out.” She used her hands a lot when she talked, so she clasped them in front of her. “I’ll be honest, I’ve never done this before.”
Ty angled his head. “What? Had anyone out to your studio?”
She laughed. “No, actually, but that’s not what I mean. Ty, I want to create something special for your grandmother based on what you tell me about her, and of course, based on what you’d like me to create.”
He frowned and drew in a breath. “I hope I haven’t wasted your time. I don’t make a lot of money, so I’m not sure I could afford anything you make.”
“You’re doing me a favor. Like I said, I have never done this before. You already agreed to be my test subject. We’ll work something out, remember?”
He nodded. “That’s right.”
“Well, see anything you like?” She gestured to the pottery on the shelves around the room—vases, pitchers, bowls, teakettles, and more. “Why don’t you look around and talk to me about which pieces speak to you. Then we’ll talk about your grandmother.”
He flashed a lopsided smile. Hayley liked that.
“All right,” he said. “I have a feeling this is going to be great.”
He moved to the shelves.
“That one is just greenware. It hasn’t been bisque-fired yet. And that over there”—she pointed across the room—“has been bisque-fired but not yet glazed. Unless you see some shape you like here, I’m more interested in hearing your thoughts on the completed designs.”
She created all these pieces?
Ty eyed her while she busied herself with some jars on the counter. She was beautiful and talented and softhearted, considering her offer to help him with his grandmother’s gift. He knew her offer benefited her, too, so she’d said, but still, she was kindhearted.
What was he doing here with this amazing girl? As a ski instructor, he met a lot of intriguing and beautiful women, but none of them held his interest. Not like Hayley. Mostly because they were here today gone tomorrow. They came to the ski resorts for a weekend of fun and weren’t interested in anything long term. Ty reminded himself that he had nothing to offer in a real relationship, except, well, himself. He needed to do more with his life in order to provide for a family.
A knot grew in Ty’s throat. Wow, this girl had him thinking about marriage and family, and he’d only just met her. He refocused his thoughts to the task at hand, once again perusing her beautiful pottery. Smooth colorful glazes in hues of blues and browns adorned pottery in all shapes and sizes, and then there were the sgraffito pieces, which he loved the most.
“You’re so prolific,” he said. “My grandmother is really going to be amazed.”
“I hope so,” she said. “Maybe I can meet her some time.”
Her suggestion surprised him. He studied her for a moment, with her crystal blues that took everything in. “Maybe so.”
He walked between the shelves, overwhelmed by the amount of pottery her small hands had produced. The artwork took his breath away. “I can’t even imagine how much time it takes you to create these pieces.”
“See anything you like?” she asked.
Her question startled him. Maybe he hadn’t been demonstrative enough over her work. “Everything.” He locked eyes with her. “I love everything. Boy, it’s going to be hard to figure out what you could create for my grandmother. But maybe …”—he touched a porcelain teapot overlaid with blue sgraffito—“she’d like a teapot similar to this, only slightly bigger.”
Oh boy. Why had he asked for something bigger? He was already going to be in trouble paying for this. Because he did, in fact, want to pay her for her work, if at all possible.
“I can do that. But I want you to think about it for a few days. Oh my goodness …” She slapped her hand over her mouth then dropped it. “I didn’t think to ask when her birthday is. I might not have enough time to do this. Please tell me her birthday isn’t tomorrow.”
Ty smiled. “Nanna’s birthday isn’t until December twelfth. I started looking early because I wanted something special.”
Hayley’s sweet face lit up with her cute dimples and just a hint of color in her cheeks. Ty undeniably wanted to spend some time with her outside this joint venture. But he had nothing to offer a girl like her.
“What’s wrong?” she asked
He’d never been good at hiding his emotions, and she was an artist. Had an eye for seeing things.
“Ty, if you don’t want to do this, please tell me. I hope I haven’t pressured you into this.”
“There’s nothing wrong. I definitely want to do this.” Just have to figure out how to pay her.
“Okay, so have a seat. I’ll make us some hot chocolate because no matter what the heat is on, I always get chilled if my hands aren’t working the clay. Tell me about your grandmother.”
“Aw, she’s great. She loves people and is very active in her church. Loves crafts.”
Hayley handed him a warm mug of hot cocoa and eyed him over the brim of her own. “That it?” she asked, arching a brow.
He scraped a hand through his hair, unsure what else to tell her. But he went on about how his grandfather died when Ty was young, and even told Hayley that he’d come to live with his grandmother as a teenager and why. What else did she need to know in order to create pottery that his grandmother would love? “This isn’t going to be easy, is it?”
“I think … no.” She huffed a sigh. “Have you ever thrown a pot on the wheel?”
He grinned. “I can’t say that I have.”
“Would you like to?”
The way she tilted her pretty blond head, what guy could turn her down? Good thing he’d taken off the rest of the day, though it would mean a smaller paycheck.
“Do you have to go anywhere? Because those clothes are going to get dirty, even though I have a couple of aprons.” She held up what looked like a butcher’s apron.
“I’m all yours”—he winked.
Hayley’s cheek colored a little. She focused on getting her clay out and prepared for the wheel. Ty stood back and watched, hating that he’d embarrassed her. Maybe he was coming on too strong, and he hadn’t meant to flirt with her at all.
Straddling the wheel, she plopped the clay on and explained to Ty about how important it was to center the clay. How difficult it could be. Ty thought about how that was kind of like a person’s life. It could be tough to find your way, find the center and stay focused. He was twenty-eight and still trying.
Watching her now, he felt like he’d wasted so much of his life. Look at all she’d created, and he had nothing to show for his efforts.
“Okay, Ty, it’s your turn.” She slid from the seat. “I’ve centered it for you and started the process. All you have to do is dig your hands in and make something.”
He laughed. “You make it sound so easy.”
“It is for some, and for others, not so much.” Mischief crept into her eyes. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
He didn’t miss the challenge in her tone and straddled the wheel. He pressed his thumbs into the center of the clay, and immediately it went all wonky. Off center. “I see what you mean.”
He expected her to place her hands over his and show him that way, but no, she centered the clay again and talked him through it. When he was done, he’d created a squatty bowl.
“Not bad for your first time.” She slid a wire beneath the pot and gently removed it from the wheel, placing it on the nearby table. “I’ve never actually taught anyone to do this before. That part was harder than I thought, too.”
Ty stood there covered in clay, unsure what she had planned next. Her gaze flicked over him. “You can clean up at the sink.”
She stripped off her apron, and so did he. At the sink, he washed his hands. He never thought he’d enjoy this activity so much and knew it had everything to do with the girl who’d pulled him into her life. While he dried his hands, the door swung open.
“Hayley, you coming to supper?” a deep voice asked.
“Daddy! I’m sorry.”
“You got caught up in your art, I see.”
Ty turned to face her father. The man then noticed Ty. Surprise registered in his face before he covered it.
“I didn’t know you had company. Don’t know how I missed seeing another vehicle out there.”
“This is Ty Walker,” she said.
Her father thrust his hand out to Ty. “Glad to meet you, son. I’m Hart Covington, Hayley’s father.
Hayley looked nervous and flustered. She grabbed his arms and tried to usher him to the door. “I made your favorite tonight, Daddy, and I’ll be right in to join you.”
The man didn’t budge. Instead his gaze stayed glued to Ty. “Aren’t you going to invite your friend, Hayley? Where are you manners?”
“Oh no, I couldn’t, sir,” Ty said. But his stomach chose that moment to rumble. Time had gotten away from them both.
“Nonsense,” her father said. “Hayley makes a mean stew. You need to eat.” The man winked and left Ty alone with Hayley.
“He doesn’t take no for an answer, does he?” Ty asked.
“No, he doesn’t.” She came over to the sink and washed up, too. “Please let me talk about the pottery, okay? Daddy doesn’t know I have pieces at Blue Mountain.”
A shadow of guilt crossed her face.
“I won’t say a word.” As long as the man didn’t ask too many questions. “But, why would you keep that a secret? What’s to hide?” Ty regretted the words. This wasn’t his business.
She blew out a breath. “It’s a long, complicated story.”
Ty wanted to say he wasn’t going anywhere, that he had the time to listen, but he heard in her voice that she didn’t want to share it.
Why would Hayley’s father want her to keep her talent locked up in this little cabin studio? Why wouldn’t he want to share it with the world? But Ty didn’t know anything about her relationship with her father or the family dynamics. Maybe it was a stretch, but he hoped to remedy that.