Retribution. Ruth Langan

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СКАЧАТЬ an invasion. He’d been oddly distant, but also quiet and respectful of her work. Being an artist himself, he understood her need for solitude and seemed to share her work ethic. That appealed to her on so many levels. She missed having someone to talk to about her work. Not the technique, which she’d mastered at a very young age, but the passionate love of the work itself. There were times, when a painting was finished, that it felt like pure magic. As though someone else had taken over her body and mind and soul, and had created something out of nothing. She had never been able to explain the feeling of transforming a blank canvas into color and form and the living, breathing creatures looking out at her from her paintings.

      With Adam, she hadn’t needed to explain. She’d sensed that he knew exactly what it was she did and how she did it. What’s more, he shared that artist’s eye for the interesting and intriguing.

      She shoved a tangle of hair from her eyes and paused to study the day’s work. She’d captured a pair of old-squaws that had flown into the shallows several days ago. There was no telling how long they would stay before continuing their southward migration. Their color wasn’t spectacular. Both male and female were dull brown and white. But the male’s bill was tinged with bright orange, and his tail a long wisp that fluttered like a ship’s sail in the breeze. They’d been delightful subjects for her canvas.

      When Picasso had decided to cool off in the shallows, the pair of ducks, angry at this intrusion, took refuge on shore, giving Sidney a chance to see their feathers at closer range. Working quickly she’d added depth and texture to the painting. By the time the dog had returned to lie at her feet, and the ducks were safely back in the water, she’d been lost in her work, and had remained so for hours.

      Now it was time to head home. She’d promised her grandparents a visit, and she would use the visit to town to stock up on some supplies, as well. As she followed the familiar trail, she was struck by the beauty of the day. Sunlight filtered through the branches of the trees, casting the ground in light and shadow. The air was so mild she’d been forced to remove her sweater and roll the sleeves of her shirt.

      At the cabin she stowed her canvas and equipment, leaving the wagon just outside the door. Then she took the time to feed Picasso and Toulouse. That done, she tucked her shopping list in her backpack, tied the sleeves of her sweater around her waist and headed for the log building out back that served as both storage shed and garage. Because the day was so lovely, she decided to forego the Land Rover in favor of her bike.

      As she climbed aboard and began peddling past the cabin, she found herself laughing at the forlorn sight of her dog and cat watching from the window.

      “Sorry, babies. Maybe next time.”

      The dog set up a loud yapping, while the cat turned his back on her, as though giving her the cold shoulder.

      That only had her laughing harder. The poor little things had no idea why they were being excluded from this latest adventure. All they knew was that they were being left behind, and were doing their best to let her know how bitterly disappointed they were.

      “I’ll see you Tuesday. One o’clock all right for you?” Marcella Trowbridge waited, pen poised over her appointment book, while Adam buttoned his shirt.

      “That’s fine.”

      “Good.” She filled in the time, added it to an appointment card and handed it to him before snapping the book shut.

      He tucked his shirt into his jeans and studied the woman who, though no more than five-and-a-half feet tall, had hands strong enough to make him want to whimper in pain every time she touched him. “Seems like everyone in this clinic is a native of Devil’s Cove. Are you one of them?”

      She shook her head, sending frizzy blond corkscrew curls dancing around a chubby face that was always wreathed in smiles. “I’ve only been here a couple of months.”

      “What brought you here?” He probed his shoulder, feeling as if he’d just come through a war.

      “Funny story. I had no idea of leaving the big city. But a friend of mine from University Hospital opened her new clinic and I drove up for the open house, without realizing that she had space to lease. I took one look at this quaint little place and decided I had to give small-town living a try. Within two months I’d given up my apartment in Lansing, found a place to live just a block away from here, overlooking the water and signed a lease on this suite.”

      “Can you make a living here?”

      She laughed. “I’ll say. Not only does my friend give me plenty of referrals, but my old friends at University Hospital keep sending me more than I can handle.” Marcella shook her head. “Strange how these things happen. I’m working more hours than ever, and yet I’m letting go of all the stress I once had working in a big city. I recently went through a painful divorce, vowed I’d never put myself through the marriage game again, and now I’m engaged to the pharmacist who works in suite Twelve-A. Go figure. And all because of my friendship with Dr. Emily Brennan-Cooper.”

      Adam’s hand paused in the act of turning the door handle. “Brennan-Cooper? Does she have a sister named Sidney?”

      “Yeah. The artist. You know her?”

      “We met. She mentioned a sister who owned a gift shop. I didn’t realize there were more.”

      “I can see that you’re not spending enough time in town. Everywhere you turn, you’ll find a Brennan. Let’s see.” She thought a minute. “Far as I know, she has a mother, three sisters, prominent grandparents. Her grandmother was a teacher here for thirty or forty years. Her grandfather is retired Judge Frank Brennan. Her father was the town doctor before he died, and now my pal Emily has stepped in and taken over his practice. Besides which, the pretty doc is married to Jason Cooper.”

      “The bestselling author?”

      “Yep.” Marcella’s smile grew. “Her mother owns her own real-estate firm and handles most of the mansions over on Historic Scenic Drive. Her sister Hannah owns Hannah’s Garden and Landscape, and her sister Courtney is the one who owns Treasures, a fancy gift shop in town.” She paused a beat, as though considering how to ask a delicate question, before deciding to simply plow ahead. “How did you happen to settle on Devil’s Cove?”

      He merely shrugged. “One place is as good as another when it’s just a temporary port, Marcella. Thanks.” He winced as he touched his shoulder. “I think.”

      She was staring after him with a puzzled grin as he pulled the door shut. He was certainly living up to his reputation as the town’s new mystery man. Though he’d managed to find out all about her within a minute or so, she knew no more about him now than when he’d arrived for his first session.

      She gave a toss of her curls. “Sooner or later I’ll find out about you, Adam Morgan.”

      She loved a good mystery.

      Adam handed his prescription refill to the girl behind the counter. He was mulling over the shelves of pain relievers, wondering if he needed something for sleep, when he caught the sudden flash of red hair peddling past his line of vision.

      Curious, he moved to the window of the drugstore and watched as Sidney propped her bicycle against the wall of the building across the street and walked inside.

      He couldn’t help admiring the view of her backside in slim, snug denims before she disappeared through the doorway.

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