Natalie moved fast. Grabbing a large piece of cheesecloth, she draped it over the canvas. It didn’t cover everything, but at least Gabe wouldn’t see the most important part.
“Are the two people in this painting your parents?”
Natalie turned toward Gabe. He was pointing to a portrait she’d painted while she was at art school.
Her mom sighed. “It is. Of all the canvases Natalie has painted, this one is my favorite.”
Natalie checked the cheesecloth once more before walking across the room. She stood beside Gabe, not sure what to say. When she’d lived in New York City, she’d been incredibly homesick. Even though she’d managed to find a part-time job, she didn’t have enough money to go home very often. Instead, she’d called her mom and grandparents each week, using the Internet to show them what she was doing.
Between assignments, she’d made them gifts. On one of her few visits home, she’d taken a photo of her grandparents in front of their fireplace. They were smiling at each other, caught for all eternity in a love that had endured through good and hard times. That photo was her inspiration for the the painting she’d made for their fiftieth wedding anniversary.
“It’s an incredible portrait.”
Natalie swallowed the lump in her throat. “They were amazing people.” Her face warmed under Gabe’s intense gaze. It felt as though he were looking into her soul, searching for an answer to something that was confusing him.
“Your website only shows the landscapes you’ve finished. Why don’t you paint more portraits?”
Gabe’s question didn’t surprise her. Anyone who knew her at college would have been just as curious. She’d won two portrait awards while she was studying and sketched enough people to fill a gallery. But after painting her grandparents, she hadn’t wanted to start another portrait. Until now.
“Artists are like everyone who’s self-employed. If you want to make a living, you have to provide something people will buy. Until recently, I haven’t had the luxury of being able to choose what I paint.”
“Commercialism over creativity?”
“I needed to eat.” She wondered if Gabe had ever worried about paying tuition fees, rent, or living expenses. “You think I sold my soul to the masses, don’t you?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t need to.” She lifted her chin. “Each painting is a huge investment in my time and energy. When I paint a portrait, I’m painting more than I see. I want to catch the essence of the person, understand what makes them unique, what makes them happy and sad. Otherwise, the painting doesn’t have a soul.”
“You don’t have to worry about money now.”
“No, I don’t.” Natalie’s pulse raced. Unless Gabe had seen the painting leaning against the wall, he wouldn’t know she’d already started another portrait.
“Is anything missing from the studio?”
Her mom’s voice cut through the fog in Natalie’s brain. Without thinking, she walked across to the wall of shelves her grandfather had built. Old jars filled with different sized brushes ran along the bottom. Paint, sandpaper, cheesecloth, rollers, and containers of sponges filled the other shelves. The things she needed to create her paintings were exactly where she’d left them.
“Everything looks okay. I’ll check my bedroom. Could you look in the living room, mom?”
“I’m not sure I’ll be any help.”
“Not much has changed since you were last here. I’ll be back soon.” Natalie searched her room and the bathroom. As much as she could tell, nothing had been stolen.
Apart from the black fingerprint dust, the living room was just as untouched. She opened the windows to let in some fresh air. “Do you want us to help you check your side of the cottage, Gabe?”
“I’ll be okay. Do you want me to get everything out of the truck that you bought in Polson?”
“I can do that,” Natalie said.
Kathleen patted Gabe’s arm. “I’ll help Natalie while you check your side of the cottage. You’re a good man.”
If she hadn’t been watching Gabe closely, Natalie might have missed the longing in his expression. There was so much she didn’t know about his life. So much she would have enjoyed discovering.
A knock on the back door made her jump.
Gabe strode across the room. “I’ll see who it is.” A few seconds later, his head appeared around the side of the doorframe. “It’s okay. It’s the glazier.”
Natalie let go of the breath she didn’t know she was holding. She just hoped nothing else went wrong today—there was only so much chaos her nerves could take.
