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The upstairs had a catwalk that led to four private bedroom suites, two of them with private balconies. At the south end of the house upstairs over the garage was one room that was full of windows. It was an art room for Rose. She hadn’t designed it, but I had asked the structural architect and builder if there was a way to incorporate it without Rose knowing. At some point she would find out, but until then, it was a secret I was keeping from her.
“It’s going to be amazing, Rose. You did a wonderful job designing it.”
She smiled up at me. “Thank you for pushing me into it.”
I tossed my head back and laughed. “Never one to mince words, are you?”
“Nope,” she said as she turned back to the truck. She opened the back door and took out two bags.
“Let me take one,” I offered as Rose handed me one. “Where do you want to go today?”
Rose looked around, then back at me. “Remember when we went on that hike with Hunter and Kipton, and we found that spot that overlooked the creek?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“Maybe that spot.”
“Sounds perfect,” I stated with a smile. “Do you have a jacket in case it gets colder?”
She shook her head. “I have a sweatshirt in the bag. Are you able to carry this bag along with the cooler?”
“Sure thing,” I said. “Let me grab the cooler with our lunch in it.”
Rose and I quickly left behind the noise of the house being built and headed up one of the trails that we had discovered not long after we started exploring the property. Since Rose and Kipton had grown so close, Hunter and I had as well. We had quickly become good friends, and I had introduced Hunter to Howie, and Kipton and Rose to Ruth. We often went out on couple dates, and the girls would go riding together at least once a week.
It warmed my heart to see Rose painting more and more the last two months. You could see it on her face how happy she was when she painted. And she was so damn good. I wanted to see her sell her paintings, but I wasn’t going to pressure her. She’d do it when she felt comfortable doing it. So for now, she worked at the boutique and spent her spare time painting.
“This is the spot!” Rose declared as we stopped at a small opening overlooking the creek below us. It wasn’t flowing as much as it had been when I first bought the property last spring, and with it being October, the flow had slowed to a trickle, but the sound of the water was still peaceful.
I watched as Rose took out the easel and set it up. It hadn’t been hard to find one that folded up and fit into a backpack. Next came a small canvas that she set on the easel. After she had it where she wanted it, she reached into the other bag and took out a travel-size paint set of twelve colors. When Rose was painting at home or on the Shaw Ranch, she used tubes of paint, but when we hiked somewhere to paint, she brought the watercolor paints in pans, and all she had to do was wet her brush.
As she got set up to paint, I put out a blanket and got my book ready. While Rose worked, I read. It was the perfect combination, and I found I truly loved that time we spent together like that. We didn’t have to speak to enjoy one another’s company. After years of constantly being on the go, I enjoyed moments of doing nothing but reading and watching Rose paint.
I watched as Rose quickly got lost in her painting. Something was so beautiful about it. The way she would crinkle her nose when she was deep in thought, or frown when something wasn’t turning out the way she wanted it to. But it was when she smiled at something she put down on the canvas, that was my favorite thing of all.
Focusing on my book, I soon got lost in my own little world. It felt like it had only been a few minutes when I heard Rose say my name. I looked up at her standing over me. She wore a beautiful smile, and I fell a little bit more in love with her. Would I ever get used to the way she made me feel? I doubted it.
“Want to take a break?” I asked, putting my bookmark in the book and setting it down next to me.
Rose dropped down to her knees on the blanket and stared at me. “Do you realize how much my life has changed in the five months since we first met?”
“I hope for the better.”
