Page 2 of Romancing the Artist

A stick cracked, and Caroline tilted her head back until she could see the upside-down scene taking place behind her.

A girl of six with blonde curls streaming down her back stood as still as a statue, her green eyes wide.

“Caught you, Amelia,” Caroline said, not restraining the laughter in her voice.

Papa turned to look over his shoulder. “Here now, how long have you been creeping up on us?”

“Not even a minute.” The little girl’s eyebrows came down and her entire frame drooped with defeat. “I didn’t see the twig.” She came the rest of the way to the blanket, collapsing somewhat dramatically on her knees when she arrived at its edge.

“I don’t know why you are determined to sneak up on people.” Caroline flicked one of her sister’s curls over her shoulder. “If you wished to give me a fright, you’d only have to put a toad in my bed.”

The child shivered. “But then I would actually have to catch one. And touch it.”

“That is true.” Papa sighed sympathetically. “The poor toad wouldn’t enjoy it either.”

Caroline closed her sketchbook, then shifted about to tidy her brushes and paints while her Papa and Amelia discussed the feelings of toads. There was no use in struggling through her work anymore today. Whatever creative spirit had overtaken her had fled the moment she painted the fluffy white sheep.

“What are you doing out here?” she asked her sister. “I thought you were visiting Grandmama today.”

“I already visited her. I was gone all morning. Didn’t you notice?” Amelia’s eyes narrowed at her older sister.

Caroline raised her eyebrows as she checked lids on her paints one more time before placing them in her box.

Papa sounded thoughtful as he said, “Is that why it was so quiet around here?”

Amelia huffed and rolled onto her back. “I am not the noisy one. Those boys are the reason the house is so loud.”

“I suppose that is the way of things with twins. Perhaps it is time we go rescue your mother from them?” Papa stood and picked up the blanket, giving it a shake before folding it up, and tucked it under the same arm where he carried his coat.

Caroline put all her artist’s trappings into a large basket with handles that made it easy for her to slip the whole of it over her shoulder. The three of them, with Muse following dutifully behind, left the shade of the orchard for the cottage.

“Must you really leave tomorrow, Cara?” Amelia asked, her wide hazel eyes as sad as a pup’s. “And must you really be away, all summer?”

A thrill of excitement shot from Caroline’s heart all the way to her fingers and toes. Tomorrow. She had packed and repacked half a dozen times for the journey to the most marvelous place on earth.

Inglewood.

Even the name made her shiver with anticipation.

Papa answered before she could. “Yes, she must go. And yes, she will be away all summer. But we will have the best time we can while your sister is bored to tears without us.”

Amelia’s little nose wrinkled. “Won’t you write letters, Cara?” Her lips turned down and her shoulders drooped.

Caroline exchanged a glance with her papa, smiling at her sister’s sweet disappointment. To her surprise, she caught a look of concern in her papa’s eyes before he looked away.

“I will,” Caroline promised, pouring her cheer into her words. “As often as I can. And you can practice your letters by writing me back.”

As though a woman of eighty instead of a girl of six, Amelia heaved an enormous sigh. “I suppose that will have to do.”

Hiding her grin with a turn of her head, Caroline took in the scene of her home again. The barn, the chicken coop, her cat sunning himself beside the paddock fence. Cider, though nearing ten years of age, was still a champion mouser.

They entered the house through the kitchen, then walked through to the family’s front room where they spent most of the time. The queen of their house, Teresa Duncan, sat in her favorite chair with a book in her lap. She looked up as they came through, then stood and held her hand out to her husband.

“Here you are at last.” She lifted her cheek for her husband to press a kiss against it. Mama’s hair was dark, like Caroline’s, with the occasional silver strand amid the deep brown waves. “All of you smell like sunshine and spring meadows. What has everyone been doing while the boys and I took our nap?”

“Let me put my things away, Mama, and then I will join everyone.” Caroline walked on her toes around the two boys playing with wooden animals on the floor, depositing her things by the staircase to take up with her later. Amelia, exhibiting her youth, walked through the carved menagerie to hang her apron on the stair rail.

“Amie!” Alfred, the more vocal of the two brothers, protested loudly. “You’ll crush our lion.”