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“I have. It’s just a quick sketch, really. Once I get back home, I’ll draw it out on paper and see what Bryson thinks.”
She nodded. “Have you painted any?”
My head turned to look at her. “I’ve done a little bit of drawing, but I pulled out all of my supplies last night.”
“Really? That’s wonderful.”
I could hear the voices of Bryson and his parents, along with my father. I stopped and turned to face my mother. “Why didn’t you ever pursue anything with your painting?”
Mom looked at me confused. “What do you mean?”
“You’re so good. And the painting you did of Dad and his brothers is one of my favorites. You taught me how to paint, but you never did anything with any of the paintings. Why not?”
“First of all, painting has always been a hobby of mine. As far as teaching you how to paint, I really didn’t. You saw me painting and wanted to try it. When you were little, it was just lines, circles, and stick figures, but it didn’t take long for your talent to show up. You’re a much better painter than I am, Rose.”
“I am?”
She smiled. “Of course, you are. I was so happy when you put one of your paintings in the Cassens gallery. I never understood why you stopped painting after that.”
“It wasn’t such a great experience. Back to you, though. You never wanted to do it as a profession or anything?”
Laughing, she said, “No. I love what I do. Books are my thing, and throwing parties. Painting, for me, is a stress reliever. It relaxes me. It’s never even crossed my mind to sell one of my paintings. But you, on the other hand, your father and I thought for sure you would follow that path.”
The door to the office opened, and my father walked out. “I thought I heard your voices. We thought you might have gotten lost in the woods or eaten by a bear!”
I let out a nervous laugh. “Nope, I ran into Mom, and we got to talking.”
Bryson looked back and forth between me and my mother before his gaze landed back on me. I nodded and smiled to silently reassure him all was well.
“I was about to show everyone the spot we picked for the building site.”
With a little bit more excitement in my voice than was needed, I replied, “Wonderful! Lead the way!”
Bryson tilted his head and studied me before Anna reached for his arm. “You heard her, lead the way!”
Bryson started to walk out of the barn, his mother on one side of him, his father the other, when my dad turned to look at me and my mother and raised a single brow.
“I’m trying really hard not to kill him in front of his parents, Rose.”
Rolling my eyes, I replied, “Dad, don’t act like you and Mom never had sex in a barn.”
His mouth dropped open in shock, and he looked at Mom. She simply shrugged and let out a little laugh.
“We should probably catch up,” I said, starting to head in the direction Bryson had gone. Taking me by the arm, my mother pulled me to a stop.
“Rose, we’re not finished with this conversation.”
Nodding, I replied, “Understood.”
As we started to walk, my father asked, “What conversation? What did I miss?”
“We were talking about Rose’s paintings and why she never followed that dream of hers.”
My father sighed. “Damn it, why do I always miss the good stuff!”
Chapter Seventeen
BRYSON
I glanced at my watch to see Josh Hart was ten minutes late for our meeting. My sixty days for mandated rest and PT was over. I’d been back in Seattle for a day, and I already missed Montana. Correction…I missed Rose and Montana. I thought I would have been nervous but felt a crazy calm as I waited for him. He wouldn’t be happy when I told him I wasn’t going to play.
My phone pinged with an email alert, and I pulled it out. It was from Rose, and the subject title was: Digital Drawings Enclosed.
Feeling my heart quicken, I opened the attachment and looked at the designs for the house. After that first day at the land, when Rose finally opened to let me in, she returned home and spent the next few days doing nothing but drawing. She had thrown so many initial sketches out that I was sure she was never going to show me what she had envisioned. When she finally did, I was blown away. It was like she had an open view into my mind and had drawn the home I had dreamed of the moment I saw the land.
She had also sketched out some of the interior, like the kitchen and living room. After we made a few changes together, she got to work with the structural engineer I had hired to finalize the building plans. When I had to leave to come back to Seattle, I thought she might get spooked again, but she had been so buried in the process of designing the house and meeting with the structural engineer, she hadn’t really had time to think about it. At least that was what she had told me.
