Artist's Dream (2 page)

Cassie tried to pull her eyes away, she wanted to pull her eyes away, but they refused to obey. Smooth, tan skin, full lips—Cassie stared. Then her eyes moved past the beautiful face and lingered briefly on small breasts, wondering crazily if she wore a bra, then locked again on legs before making the return trip. She gasped when her blue eyes were captured by dark brown ones, and she found she could not take a breath until the woman mercifully released her and looked away.

Hadn’t she always known, and secretly feared, that this day would come? That she would see some woman and feel that attracŹtion, that pull that she couldn’t resist. She could lie to Kim all she wanted, but she couldn’t lie to herself. She shuddered inwardly, acknowledging the fire that had started inside of her. For years, she had been able to keep these feelings away. She never allowed herŹself to think of any woman in a romantic way. She could control whatever impulses she may have. But one look at this woman and her carefully constructed wall had crumbled. Thank goodness she was a tourist, a stranger. At least it was a woman she would never see again. Walls could be rebuilt.

“Hey, earth to Cassie,” Kim said, poking her arm playfully. “You still with us?”

“Hmmm?” Cassie blinked several times, embarrassed that her hand still trembled when she set her coffee cup on the table. “Sorry. What?”

Kim smiled and glanced after the woman who had now passed their table. “Nice, huh?”

Cassie nodded. “Yes. Attractive.” She tried to convince herself that she had been looking at the woman with envy and not desire. It was a start to rebuilding that wall, anyway. She cleared her throat. “Perhaps we should take up jogging,” she said lightly. “We could all stand to lose a few pounds.”

“Perhaps we should take up something else,” Kim said with a wink.

“Please don’t start,” Cassie said. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Kim, leave her alone,” Lisa warned.

“Thank you,” Cassie said quietly. She rested her elbows on the table and stared at Kim. “Do I need to bring up David again?”

“Please don’t,” Kim said with a laugh. “I don’t want to spoil breakfast.”

But it was already spoiled for Cassie, She drove home with the windows open, wishing for a cigarette, something she had not done in years. The rolling hills sped by without notice as she stared straight ahead, her mind on only one thing.

How could one tiny, innocent glance at that woman bring such fear to her? Perhaps she wasn’t as immune to her father’s words of eternal damnation as she thought.

“I wasn’t attracted to her … I was simply looking at a beautiful person,” she said out loud. She shoved her sunglasses on to avoid seeing the truth reflected back at her from the mirror and drove on in silence, convinced she would be over this by evening.

But when she got home, she called David. They had not made plans this weekend. She had told him she would be too busy preparing for the upcoming art show, but now she wanted his company. She would invite him over to dinner, and she would let him kiss her and hopefully, she would feel something, anything to make her forget the way her pulse had raced earlier today.

“I don’t really miss the meat in here,” David said, taking another piece of the lasagna.

“What’s to miss?”

“Oh, come on,” David said with a smile. “Don’t you ever just want to plop a nice, juicy steak on the grill?”

Cassie eyed him coolly over her wineglass, then raised her chin. “I don’t particularly care for dead cows bleeding on my grill,” she said. “I prefer the smell of roasting vegetables.”

David shook his head but smiled. “I don’t think I could go withŹout meat for too many meals, but once in awhile is fine,” he said.

Cassie had told herself she would try with David, so she let that comment go unanswered. Instead, she filled both of their wineŹglasses and pretended to enjoy his company.

“How long have you been this way?” he asked as he swirled the Merlot.

She raised her eyes slowly. “What way is that?”

“Vegetarian.”

She shrugged. “Since I was old enough to start cooking for myself.”

“Why?”

“My father said I was going through a phase, and it would pass,” she said. “Actually, one of my high school teachers described what a slaughterhouse was like, and that pretty much did it for me.

“Well, you just don’t think about it.”

“Well, we should think about it.” She set her wineglass on the table, preparing to launch into a speech. “And not only for the cruŹelty to the animals, but what about all the agricultural land and water that is devoted solely to raising and feeding cattle when we should be growing food for human consumption.”

“Whoa, now,” David said, raising his hands. “I don’t want to get into an argument with you. We have different opinions on this one, I’m afraid.”

She leaned back and tried to relax. “Yes, I guess we do. I don’t suppose you want to discuss organic farming?” she asked with a smile.

“Let’s don’t,” he said. “In fact, I wanted to ask you about your work. You don’t know how many times I’ve been to Potter’s and have never thought to ask about the squirrel they have sitting on the counter. Then today, there was this woman asking who had done it, and I was surprised to hear your name. You said you did wood sculptures, and I guess I had no idea what you really did.”

“I gave Carl that squirrel four years ago,” she said. “I generally do larger pieces now.”

She didn’t want to talk about her work. She didn’t want to share this with him, she realized. He would not understand how each piece became so very personal to her, even the small trinkets, as Kim called them.

“How is it that you’ve lived here six years and we’ve just now met?” he asked.

Just lucky, I guess. But she stifled her grin and answered tactfully.

“I doubt we have any of the same friends.” They had literally run into each other at the grocery store, him knocking her flat on her backside as he had hurried into her aisle. His way of apology was to offer her lunch. Cassie was too embarrassed to decline.

“You hang out with artists, I guess?”

She shrugged. “I’m an artist. I do know some of the local farmŹers, though.” She raised her eyebrows and forced a grin. “I hang out at farmer’s markets, too.”

“Buying only organic vegetables, no doubt,” he said sarcastiŹcally.

She stared at him for a moment. “No doubt,” she said dryly, realizing that she didn’t like this man in the least. Why had it taken three dates for her to figure it out?

After dinner, she offered to make coffee, but he declined. He wasn’t too fond of French vanilla, he said. She was thankful.

“We can sit and visit, if you like,” he offered.

“Actually, I have some work to do, David. I hope you don’t mind, but I’d like to call it a night.”

“Oh, of course,” he said immediately. “I’m glad we got to spend some time together. I know how busy you are.”

He walked over and took her hands, and she steeled herself for the kiss she knew was about to come.

“Thanks for dinner. I enjoyed it.” He lowered his head to hers, but she stepped back.

“Listen, David … I’m sorry,” she said, pulling her hands away. “This isn’t going to work.”

“What do you mean?”

“Us. This,” she said, motioning between them. “We’re just… too different. And I’d like to be able to meet you on the street someday and consider you a friend and not an ex-boyfriend, you know what I mean?”

He sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I guess. I feel kinda lost out there anyway. I mean, I’m nearly forty. I picked a hell of a time to start dating again. Half the women in this town are newly divorced and hate men, or they’re gay, or they’re into saving

the earth and picket my farm because I won’t go organic, or they’re vegetarian and despise me because I keep a few cattle … oh, I didn’t mean you, Cass
ie.
”

She smiled. “It’s okay. No offense. I haven’t taken to picketing

farms yet.”

“Well, let me get out of here. I’ve enjoyed meeting you, if nothŹing else,” he said.

“Thank you. I’m sure I’ll see you around town.?’ She waited politely beside the door until he had started his car and driven off.

She leaned against the closed door and shut her eyes. The only good thing to come of the evening was that she had not thought about the woman she had seen earlier that morning. She shoved away from the door. Not much, anyway.

Cassie sat down and placed the piece of wood between her knees. She selected a palm chisel and began carving the wood, shaving off small pieces with each stroke. She found that people liked to watch her while she worked, and it helped sell the smaller carvings that she now had lined up on the table.

Her booth was roped off, a large ten-by-twelve area, with tables lining three sides. The fourth side was reserved for the giant carvŹings she had positioned there. She sat under the shade of an umbrella and looked around at the milling crowd, still small at this early hour but growing. She recognized a familiar figure walking toward her, and she lifted a hand in greeting.

Paul ducked gracefully under the rope after dodging a family of five.

“Quite a crowd already,” he said after placing a friendly kiss on Cassie’s cheek. “Jeff’s worried he didn’t bring enough.”

Jeff did beautiful pencil sketches of wildlife and framed them

using salvaged wood from old barns in the area. Jeff was the man that Paul had fallen in love with.

“So, things are still working out for you two?” she asked.

“Yes. Things are wonderful, Cass. I’ve never been so happy.”

“Well, I was hoping that was the reason I hadn’t seen you in awhile,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. His face showed genuine dismay, and Cassie smiled and took his hand.

“Oh, I’m teasing, Paul. I know how happy you are. It’s written all over your face.”

“And how are you doing? The last time we talked, you seemed

so down.”

“Down? Did I? No, just preoccupied with my work, most likely,” she said, trying to convince him as well as herself.

“Well, I better get back. I just wanted to say hello. Good luck

today,” he called.

She watched him go, smiling as he hurried back to Jeff. Now there was a man she had something in common with. He was an artist, a vegetarian, and he didn’t get on with his parents, either. And so she had tried with him. There just hadn’t been any passion between them. They were always the best of friends and could talk for hours, but whenever they tried to move their relationship to another level, it stalled. Their kisses were nothing more than affecŹtionate. They were never in any danger of losing control. Actually, it was almost as if they had to remind themselves that they were supposed to be dating. Then he met Jeff. He finally confessed to Cassie that he had been suppressing his attraction to men for fear of alienating his parents even more. But Jeff had literally swept him off his feet, and Cassie had wished Paul nothing but the best.

When she thought about it now, it was almost a relief that Paul had met Jeff. If there was ever a man she thought she could be with, it had been Paul. He was a gentle, soft-spoken, kind man. But it was nearly exhausting trying to invent feelings where there were none. And they had maintained their friendship, although they didn’t see each other nearly as often.

“These are beautiful.”

Cassie raised her head, pushing her thoughts away and smiled at the young couple who had stopped to admire her carvings.

“Thanks. You’re welcome to pick them up,” she offered.

The woman touched a fawn, one of Cassie’s favorites, and she saw her eyes light up, knowing instantly that they would buy it.

“How do you do it?” she asked Cass
ie.

Cassie stood and carried the piece she had been working on. “It starts like this,” she said, holding up the wood she had just begun carving. “This is going to be a squirrel. At least, if I have enough wood left for the tail.” She picked another piece out of the box under the table and showed it to them as well. “This was supposed to be a squirrel, too, but as you can see, no tail.”

“How did you learn how to do this?” the man asked.

She shrugged. “Some people can paint… I carve.” How did she tell someone that it just came naturally?

Out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed a woman admiring the large golden eagle standing nearly three feet tall from its base. She turned to watch the woman, to see her reaction to her work, and she actually felt her breath catch in her chest. It’s her.

“I really like the deer. How much is it?” the woman asked.

Cassie swallowed with difficulty and made herself turn back to the couple, smiling. “Seventy-five. All of these smaller ones start at seventy-five and go up to one twenty-five.” Then she pointed to the end where an assortment of larger squirrels sat. “Except them. The larger squirrels there are all two hundred.”

“Is seventy-five too much, Mark?”

“No. If you like it, we’ll get it,” he said.

Cassie turned again to watch the woman squatting beside the eagle, unmindful of the sign that warned her not to touch. Her sunglasses were shoved casually on top of her dark head, and her sleeveless shirt showed off well-muscled arms. Cassie’s eyes travŹeled from her thick, dark hair to smooth cheeks tanned a golden brown, on down to small waist and … perfect legs. Cassie had the same reaction to her the second time around. Heat assailed her body, and she was afraid. “You do take checks?” the man asked.

“Hmmm?”

“Checks?”

“Oh, yes.” Cassie forced herself to wait patiently while the man wrote out a check. “I’ll wrap that for you, if you like.” She wrapped the fawn gently in newspaper and taped one of her cards on the side.

As they left, she turned and was startled to find the woman patching her.

“Your work is exquisite.”

The voice was not what Cassie would have expected. It was softer, gentler than the imposing woman standing before her with only a hint of the huskiness Cassie imagined. Words refused to form, so Cassie kept quiet.