Luke's Daughters. Lynnette Kent
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Название: Luke's Daughters
Автор: Lynnette Kent
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
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“You’re an easy passenger.” Not easy to ignore, though. “I could barely feel your weight back there.”
“I guess it’s like any other bike. Once you learn how to balance, you don’t forget.” She looked around them and drew in a deep, deep breath. “I was planning to come down here soon. I’m so glad you thought of it.”
He held out a hand for her helmet and stowed it with his in the empty saddlebag, then walked to the other side to get the knapsack with dinner. They bypassed the gift shop, stopped to admire a water garden, and posed on a bench beside the life-size sculpture of a man reading the newspaper.
“I’ve always wanted to turn the page,” Sarah commented. “Do you suppose he gets bored reading the same articles day after day?”
“I’d say so. Where are the comics? And what about the sports section?”
She laughed and led him into one of the glass-walled galleries outside the entrance to the garden. “You might like to see this.”
Luke studied the photograph she’d indicated—a rundown shack in the country, weeds growing too high in front of the porch, junk piled against the steps and the walls, screen door hanging by one hinge. Almost depressing.
But by some magic he didn’t understand, the first impression didn’t stick. Something drew him to look again,to step closer, to get involved in the photograph. He found himself examining the garbage, searching for the stories of the people who’d left it there. The weeds became flowers, telling of a garden and the love that had tended it. The photographer had seen the lives behind the front of that old shack. And, somehow, had captured their essence on film.
“Amazing.” Luke took a deep breath, drawing in a whiff of Sarah’s sweet scent, as well. “Is this one of yours?”
“Oh, no. This is Felix Sawyer’s work. He was my teacher.”
“Wait—the guy in the shop is Charles Sawyer, right?”
“That’s right. Felix’s nephew.”
“The pictures on the wall in the front of the shop look a lot like this. Charles said they were his.”
“Really?” Sarah stared for a minute at the photograph. “I hadn’t noticed the pictures. Charles…Chuck runs the place by himself, really—I usually go in by the back door just to use the darkroom when I’m in town, and that’s not often. I’ve been here twice in the eighteen months since Felix died…until this week. I’ll have to check those prints out.” She seemed troubled by the prospect.
Luke cleared his throat. “So Felix taught you the trade. How did that happen?”
“I met him on the beach the summer I was twelve, while I was visiting my grandmother. He spent the day shooting pictures of the dunes and the sea oats, and I hung around the whole time asking questions.” Her gaze was fixed on the past. “We both came back to the same spot the next afternoon and Felix handed me a camera.” She sighed. “He taught me everything I know.”
“He must have been proud of your career.”
She sighed. “I think so. Though I didn’t see him much, once I started working for Events. I was always out of the country. Even when he died.”
“Felix would have understood that.”
“Probably. But if I had been with him more, I would have more of him to remember. I guess that’s why I came here after…” She swallowed. “I feel closer to Felix when I’m developing in his darkroom. That’s the place most like home.”
Luke asked the next question gently. “Your parents?”
“They died in a car wreck just after I graduated from high school. My dad was Air Force, so we moved a lot. I have pictures and memories, but that’s about all.”
Her wistful voice called up his personal regrets. “There’s more to life than memories, Sarah Rose.” He squeezed her shoulder quickly, then let go. It was time to break the mood. “Do you want to eat in the official picnic area, or kinda snack as we go along?”
“Let’s walk.”
“Which way?”
“The sundial?”
“You got it.”
STROLLING THROUGH the gardens, Sarah realized that this was another place that felt like home. The soft breeze stroked her skin, carrying scents of grass and mist, magnolias and roses. A crescent moon climbed above the trees, turning the sidewalk to silver even before the sun had completely set. Crickets hummed on every side, backed up by frogs in the rhythm section.
At the sight of a familiar sculpture, she thrust her sandwich into Luke’s hand and climbed into the lap of a giant bronze bear. “Goldilocks was always my favorite fairy tale. What about your girls?”
He thought a moment. “Jen loves to pretend she’s Rapunzel. Erin goes for Hansel and Gretel—she likes the part where the witch gets shoved in the oven.”
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