She shrugged, as if a conversation about their future meant nothing to her, but her hands were still trembling.
He climbed down the scaffolding and approached Vince, but his mind and his heart were still focused on saving his relationship.
Chapter 24
The mid-afternoon sun was warm on her back as Emily kept painting. The inspiration for the mural had hit her like a bolt of lightning last night while she sat on her childhood swing, and once she started sketching the piece, she couldn’t stop. She’d finished the draft after midnight and then sneaked into Jake’s folks’ house to grab a few hours of sleep. She’d spent most of the night crying and replaying the horrible scene at Claire’s parents’ house, and she’d decided then that she would paint the mural and then leave for Charlotte to try to rebuild her shattered life without Jake.
She’d dragged herself out of bed at dawn, eaten a piece of toast, and then hurried out to the barn, where she’d managed to assemble the scaffolding they’d used to paint the barn and then climbed up and started drawing. She’d poured all of her heartache and grief into the mural, and she had to agree with Jake—it was the best piece she’d ever painted.
While she worked, she noticed a parade of visitors walk past the barn and also slow down on the street to watch her. Finally,the orchard was busy. She was thankful that Jake and his family were getting the traffic they’d hoped for.
Her throat thickened as her thoughts shifted to Jake and the heartfelt words he’d spoken to her earlier in the day. While she was starting to believe that Claire had set up the dinner both to hurt Emily and to somehow trap Jake into a life of wedded bliss (What planet is she from?Emily thought), she still couldn’t understand why he hadn’t immediately called out Claire for her lie. And why couldn’t Jake stand up for Emily? Why was he so embarrassed to tell the world that they were together? How could Emily believe Jake might love her if he didn’t have the courage to declare his feelings to his own parents?
All that made sense was that she still wasn’t good enough for him, and that truth ripped her to shreds. Tears began to spring from her eyes for what felt like the millionth time that day.
Hold on, Em. Just a little bit longer. You’re almost done.
“Excuse me!”
Emily kept painting and ignored the voice. Surely the person wasn’t calling her.
“Um, hello up there! Are you Emily Carmichael?”
She stilled and then turned toward the ground, where a woman stood holding a fancy camera. “Yes?”
“I’m with theSplendid Lake Times, and I’d like to get a photo of you with the mural. Would you mind smiling for me?”
“Oh.” Emily touched her hair, which she’d styled in a messy braid. “Why would you want to take my picture?”
The woman gestured around the orchard. “You haven’t noticed? Your talent has drawn a huge crowd today. The mural went viral on social media, and now traffic’s bumper-to-bumper out on the highway—people want to get a good look for themselves. I was just talking to the orchard owner, Jake Hughes, and he saidthe phone has been ringing off the hook all day long. A news station was pulling in when I got here. I think you’re going to wind up on the news all over the state, if not around the nation.”
“Really?” Emily asked, and her stomach pitched.
“Yeah, really.” She grinned. “Now, would you mind smiling?”
Emily stood beside the mural and gave her cheesiest smile, and the camera clicked before the photographer gave her a thumbs-up.
“The mural is really fantastic. It shows what makes this community so special. Thank you for sharing your talent with the world,” the photographer said before ambling down the path.
Emily stared after the woman.
Thank you for sharing your talent with the world.
The words played through Emily’s mind on a loop as she recalled Jake begging her to open a gallery.
Maybe he was right. Maybe she should sell her paintings.
And maybe he really loves you, Emily, but you pushed him away before he got a chance to tell you.
She swallowed back a ball of grief rising in her throat.
She couldn’t allow her emotions to derail her. She had a job to do, which was finishing the mural.
“Emily?”
She peeked down as a man she recognized from the evening news hurried toward the barn, with another man holding a camera following close behind.
Am I living in an alternate universe right now?
