He returned to Amanda. “How about one of these?”
She looked at them closely. “I love them both. Each in its own way.” Her voice was full of admiration.
He sighed, a small smile creeping over his lips. “Okay, you can have them both.”
She clapped her hands in delight. “Really?”
He nodded and set them on his workbench, the carved seagull and sea captain resting among the array of tools and wood shavings. She wandered over to a life-sized carving of a blue heron, its slender body captured mid-stride. “This is so beautiful.”
“That’s carved out of cherry. I loved the colors of that piece of wood, and the lighter sapwood accentuates the details of the feathers.”
She touched the wood lightly, stroking it. “It’s the most magnificent piece of work I’ve ever seen.”
Her sincere praise pleased him, even though he thought he was way past what anyone thought about his work. But he didcare what she thought. Her appreciation awakened something long buried.
He cleared his throat as emotions he hadn’t expected swept through him. “That was the first piece I carved after I moved here. I wasn’t sure I was ever going to carve again when I first came here.” He touched the wood, smooth from hours of rubbing oil into it. “I busied myself building this workshop and… one thing led to another. Seeing the herons wading along the shore, watching me, their graceful swoops as they take off—it reignited the spark of creativity I’d been missing.”
“I’m glad you didn’t stop carving. These are all so lovely. I know you said not to ask… but why not show them? Share them with the world?”
Her honey-brown eyes held that pleading look that he couldn’t resist. Asking him to open up, to explain. But he wasn’t ready for that. “I do have my reasons,” he said softly. “Things happened that made me disillusioned with the art world. Things I couldn’t change, but things I didn’t want to be a part of any longer. So I left that all behind me. Left New York City. Moved here.”
“You’re from New York, too?”
“I am, and I don’t miss it a bit.” Okay, he did occasionally when he let himself remember the good times there. The excitement of a big art show opening. The thrill of seeing his art at prestigious galleries. When an art critic would praise his work. The satisfaction when a buyer’s eyes lit up when they found a piece of his art that spoke to them and they just had to have it.
But then… all that changed with one mistake. A mistake born out of naivety and misplaced trust. But he couldn’t go back and change it any more than he could fix the consequences.
Amanda was oblivious to the turmoil rolling through his memories. She smiled and said, “It took me a bit to get used tothe slower pace here. But I enjoy it now. It will be hard to go back.”
“You’re going back to the city?” He tilted his head, studying her expression.
“Yes, this is just a sabbatical. I needed a break from… everything. The calls, the texts, the emails. The… rush.”
“And you took on running the festival? Isn’t that counterintuitive to your need to step back?” He couldn’t stop the hint of amusement in his voice.
She smiled softly. “I guess it is. But I’ve really enjoyed working on the festival. And you know what? Magnolia Key people are not constant texters like New Yorkers. I like that. I like being here.” She shrugged. “I didn’t know what to expect when I came here, but I seem to have gotten more than I bargained for. I love it here.”
“I think you’re doing a fine job with the festival. You seem very organized. You’ve done a lot in the short time you’ve had.”
She sighed, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her eyes. “Now if I can just finish up everything in time. And get the townspeople won over a bit so they aren’t so skeptical I can pull this off.”
“You will. And I’m going to help you.” He didn’t know what came over him, but he had this strong desire to help this woman. Make sure her festival turned out exactly how she’d planned it. Show all the townsfolk what she was capable of.
As if on cue, Megan’s voice echoed in his mind in a tone of sisterly pride. “Way to go, baby brother. Way to go.”
But he silently reminded himself to be careful. Not to be so trusting. Because he vividly remembered what happened the last time he blindly trusted someone.
CHAPTER 14
Amanda got up early, as usual. Her days were busy with tasks for the festival, but each night she indulged herself in reading before bed. A new habit that she promised herself she wasn’t going to give up when she returned to New York. She was totally engrossed in another book she’d picked up from Beverly’s lending library. It was nice to turn off the electronics and just enjoy a good book in the evenings.
Unexpectedly, Connor had become an invaluable help the last few days. Offering to go to the mainland to pick up supplies. Calling vendors. And, of course, making the display walls for the art show. She didn’t know how she would have gotten all this accomplished without him.
And just as surprising, she found herself thoroughly enjoying his company. He even occasionally smiled now. And just last night he’d had a glass of wine with her while they went over the plans.
She headed into Coastal Coffee this morning to grab a quick breakfast and see how the fundraiser was going. She stepped inside to the now familiar and welcoming embrace of the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and yeasty pastries.
Beverly greeted her and waved. Amanda headed over to the fundraising table, scanning the array of donated items. She noticed that Connor’s carving was no longer on the table.
