Mountain Sanctuary (14 page)

“I could get married here,” he said, then he turned to find Stella still there, her eyes as brilliant green as the shutters. “Did you hear that loud and clear?”

“I did,” she said, grinning. “Your dinner is going to be cold.”

“I’m coming,” he said. He whistled his way into the house. He’d just hit the back door when his cell phone rang.

“Hello?”

“It’s Richard Lampkin. How you doing?”

“I’m fine,” Adam said, careful to keep his voice low. He hadn’t heard from the art dealer in days. “How’re you?”

“I’m good. Hey, I sold both those teacups and saucers you brought me. Got a pretty price. Enough to more than pay for what I gave up on that painting.”

“That’s great,” Adam said, wondering what to do now. He hadn’t told Stella about what he’d done.

“I need some more, son. I got customers asking for them.”

“Uh, that might not be so easy.” Adam glanced up to find Wally motioning him to dinner. “I got to go. I’ll come by tomorrow and we can talk.”

“Okay, but I’m serious. I think we’re on to something here.”

Adam heard the glee and the tad of greed in Mr. Lampkin’s voice. He was thrilled that the shopkeeper had sold some of Stella’s art, but Adam still had a big problem.

He hadn’t found the right time to tell Stella that he’d taken some of her teacups and plates to Mr. Lampkin. He’d been waiting until her birthday, which was Friday. He’d planned a special dinner and he wanted to give her Estelle’s painting then, and tell her about how excited Mr. Lampkin had been even before he’d sold her work. She’d need time to digest everything Adam wanted to say to her. But now he had to wonder if that had been wise, not telling her right off. Or worse, not asking her if she’d be okay with that. With all the excitement around her father’s health scare, Adam had put off explaining his bartering with Stella. Now he’d have to explain why he’d kept it from her. Or maybe he’d purposely put it off, because he wasn’t really sure of how she’d react and…well…he liked seeing her smile. He liked the new and improved Stella. He loved the complete, happy Stella. He just had to find a way to tell her all of this.

“Stupid,” he said, hitting himself on the head.

Kyle gave him a sideways grin. “You talking to yourself, Mr. Adam?”

Stella lifted her eyebrows as he entered the dining room. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing I can’t fix,” Adam said, hoping with all his heart that he could fix this. He sure didn’t want to mess with the peace and quiet around here. And he didn’t want to hurt Stella in any way. But he was so worried that he’d do just that, he didn’t even get to enjoy eating her fried chicken. Which was a shame, since Kyle had been right. She hadn’t burned it at all.

S
tella stood inside her studio, her gaze moving over the soft sun rays shining down from the high windows. She’d managed to get back into her china painting in a big way. The guilt was gone now. It had been replaced by a sense of accomplishment and peace. And today—her birthday—she hoped to get in some work before all the guests in town for the wedding returned from the rehearsal dinner late tonight.

Everything was set for the wedding tomorrow. The food for the early-morning wedding breakfast was prepared and tucked away, and the caterers would bring the cake and the food for the wedding early tomorrow. The tables and chairs they’d rented were set up out in the garden and Adam and Wally, with a little help from Kyle, had made sure the yard looked its very best.

The inn was booked solid, every room and suite filled by the bride’s and groom’s immediate family. The wedding had brought lots of people to other hotels and bed-and-breakfast spots in Hot Springs, too. A nice birthday present for a woman who just months ago had felt as if she’d bitten off more than she could chew with this place.

Stella felt a sense of pride all the way around. Her life was changing, day by day. And she had God and Adam Callahan to thank for that transformation. So she wouldn’t think about the end of summer and the chance that Adam might go home to New Orleans. She refused to be negative or glum today. She wanted to pour herself into her work for an hour or two—a birthday present to herself.

And later, Adam had a special dinner planned. Or so he’d hinted all day.

Stella smiled at that as she went to the shelf where she kept her finished plates, her mind still reeling at
why
she’d changed over the last few weeks. Stella couldn’t explain this change, but since the day she’d watched that mama dove fighting for her baby, she had found God again. Completely and without hesitation.

The events of that day—the trauma of watching that little bird suffer, coupled with the scare about her daddy’s health, should have made her even more doubtful, even more angry at God. But she wasn’t angry anymore; she needed God in her life. Somehow she’d realized that, sitting there, crying in the rain. If she couldn’t have her mother’s love, well, she could have God’s love. He never abandoned people. The Lord was a lot like the doves. He fought for those He loved. Even those who sometimes abandoned Him.

Deep in thought, Stella moved her hands over her finished plates and teacups, her mind cataloging each one. Glancing back over the display, she noticed something was wrong.

“Something’s missing,” she said to herself. Maybe Adam had rearranged again. The man liked to organize things, that was for sure.

She checked and rechecked, but Stella couldn’t find three of her prized teacups and matching saucers. Two of them had been done with delicate wisteria blossoms and vines trailing around the ridges, while the other one was from the Confederate jasmine collection she’d just started.

She’d have to ask Adam about them, she reckoned.

Then she turned and saw that her mother’s old trunk was also gone. “Now what has that man done?”

Confused, she glanced at her watch. Adam was at the hardware store, doing last-minute stuff. That’s what he’d told her when he’d left about thirty minutes ago. She’d just have to wait until he got home to ask him if he knew where the missing items were. Or she could just go up to the apartment and check up there. Maybe he’d placed some of the stuff in the tiny storage closet at the top of the stairs.

Irritated that she was wasting time, Stella couldn’t stop herself from going up to look. She reached the top of the stairs and opened the storage closet. Nothing there but a broom, some cleaning products and some of Adam’s personal things. Did she dare go into the apartment?

She did.
Stella’s heart was pumping, a kind of dread mixed with anticipation rippling through her pulse. She didn’t want to go into this apartment that her mother had used as a private retreat. But then, maybe this was the only way to break that last thread of resentment she still held for her mother.

She opened the door and glanced around at the tiny kitchen-sitting room. The long, sunny room looked clean and neat, all the dishes washed and stacked on a little drain, the dining chairs pushed up against the round oak table. Nothing here to prove he’d moved some of her pieces.

She was about to turn and leave when she caught sight of something in the corner behind the little love seat. An easel with an old blanket covering it. Had Adam taken up painting, too?

Stella had to smile at that. He’d done a great job on the house, at least. But she had to know what was underneath that old blanket. Then she gasped. What if this was something her mother had left up here?

Stella rushed to the easel and pulled back the blanket. Then she stood back and gasped again, her hand flying to her mouth.
“Awakening,”
she whispered. Last time she’d seen this painting, it had been at Mr. Lampkin’s art shop on Central Avenue. Where in the world had this come from? And how had it wound up here?

Adam bounced into the kitchen. “Stella?”

No answer. Wally and Kyle had gone fishing with one of Wally’s new church buddies to get away from all the earlier frenzy of getting the wedding group checked in and settled. And the group would be gone the rest of the night, so Adam knew Stella was alone in the house. They had a few hours before the wedding party came back from the rehearsal dinner at the lodge out on the lake. That gave Adam time to make Stella a good dinner then present her with her birthday present…and tell her about the success of selling her teacups. He hoped she’d be as pleased as he was, and he hoped this would be the jumping-off place for her to pursue her talent.

He hoped.

Quickly putting his groceries away, he called out to her again. No answer. Maybe she was out in the studio.

Stella heard Adam calling her name downstairs, but she couldn’t move. Why did he have her mother’s painting? And why was her mother’s old trunk now back up here, shoved behind the love seat?

She sat in a dining chair, staring at the morning glory and the cardinal. What did this picture mean anyway? Both the bird and the flower looked surprised at the discovery of each other. It didn’t make sense to Stella. Suddenly, after feeling so at peace all week, nothing seemed to make sense. She felt that old familiar sensation of not being in control. Had she just imagined her new contentment? Had she just imagined that she might have a future with Adam? He’d told her he didn’t have any more secrets, but he’d been hiding this from her. Why?

She heard his feet hitting the stairs and turned just as he came into the room. Pointing toward the painting, she asked, “Adam, what’s going on?”

Adam looked from Stella’s confused face to the painting, then back. No use in trying to keep it a surprise now. The look on her face told him that he’d messed up, big-time.

“I…I wanted to give you this tonight at dinner. For your birthday.”

She looked shocked, then relieved. “You bought this for me?”

“Kinda,” he said. “I need to explain—”

“What do you mean?”

He could see shards of the old stubborn, hurt Stella in her green eyes. “I mean, I wanted to cook you a nice meal, and give you something special for your birthday. But you found the painting.”

“Yes, I found the painting,” she said, getting up to place her hands on the table. “But I came up here looking for some of my art pieces. And I have this funny feeling you know where my china pieces are, too.”

Adam took her hand then guided her back into her chair. Pulling out the other chair, he sat down. “That was part of the surprise. I, uh, I had to barter with Mr. Lampkin to get the painting and since I was sure he’d like your pretty little teacups, I suggested he just take a look at a couple of them—”

She shot out of her chair, her eyes wide. “You did what?”

“I took some of your work to Mr. Lampkin—just a couple of teacups and matching plates. And, Stella, he loved them. He sold them right off the bat and asked for more. I thought that was a good sign.”

He could see the shock and anger in the flush moving down her face. “You thought that was a good sign? You just took it upon yourself to steal my stuff and pass it off so I could have this painting back?”

“I didn’t steal anything,” he said, rising up to glare down at her. “I took a couple of teacups, as samples. I didn’t know the man would sell them right away.”

“You didn’t know because you didn’t stop to think. You didn’t bother to ask me how I’d feel about this, either.” Pushing past him, she shouted, “All I asked from you was honesty, Adam. In all things, honesty. And I had actually begun to trust you, to…love you. But you had to go behind my back and ruin everything.” Then she pivoted at the door, tears falling down her face. “I don’t want that painting, and I sure don’t want to trade part of my soul just to have it or you. I want both you and it out of here by morning. You don’t need to barter for me ever again.”

With that, she was gone down the steps, leaving Adam standing there in the middle of the still, sunny room. He turned to stare at the painting, wishing he’d at least had the chance to tell Stella the significance of her mother’s legacy.

Stella got up at six the next morning, her eyes puffy from crying and lack of sleep. Before she could finish washing her face, Kyle came bursting into the bathroom.

“Mama, why is Mr. Adam’s bags all packed up and in the back of his truck? Where’s he going?”

Stella swallowed past the lump in her throat. She hated to disappoint her son yet again, but it couldn’t be helped. She patted her face with a towel, then turned to face Kyle. “Mr. Adam has to go back to New Orleans.”

Kyle’s bottom lip trembled. “I don’t want him to do that. I want him to stay here. He promised he’d show me how to throw a baseball. He promised.”

Stella closed her eyes. “He promised me a lot, too, baby. But he has to go back and see his family. They miss him.”

“We’ll miss him more!” Kyle turned and ran out of the room. Then she heard him telling her father that Adam was leaving.

Hearing her son’s sobs coming from the next room just about did Stella in. She could hear Wally’s whispered response, but she was crying too hard to make out what her daddy was saying. She sank down on her bed, holding her stomach, her own tears hot on her face. Was she being unreasonable asking Adam to leave? On the one hand, he’d done a noble and honorable thing, buying back her mother’s painting. But on the other hand, he’d gone about it the wrong way. If only—

Stella wiped her eyes, determined to put dreams of what might have been out of her mind. She had a wedding to get through. In about three hours, her yard would be full of people who’d come to Hot Springs for a joyous occasion. She had to prepare herself and her home for that. And afterward, she’d cry about Adam Callahan and how much she’d miss him.

Adam watched as the bride and groom drove off in a vintage car, headed to the airport to start their honeymoon. The last of the guests would now load up and go home. The wedding was over and the happy couple would soon start a new life together.

A new life. He’d thought he’d found that here, with Stella and her family. It was going to be so hard to leave them. He should have left before daybreak, but he wanted to stay and see that the wedding at least went off without a hitch, even if his own life had hit a brick wall.

And he had one more thing to do before he left.

So with determination, he turned from the cluttered tables and trailing streamers left over after the wedding reception and started toward the kitchen. He was going to have it out with Stella Forsythe, once and for all. If he left mad, at least it would make the leaving easier.

He found her standing at the kitchen window, staring out into the garden. Adam took a stance right in her line of vision, digging in his heels until she noticed him.

“Spying on me again, Callahan?”

Her words didn’t have that spunk he’d come to know and love. Her voice sounded strained and forced.

“I’m not spying, Stella. We just need to talk, is all.”

“I’m done talking.”

“So you’re just gonna keep standing at that window, looking out, hoping for the life you refuse to allow for yourself?”

She looked him square in the eye then. “It’s my window and my business. And your time here is up.”

“Not just yet,” he said, coming so close he could see the flecks of brown in her green eyes. “My time here isn’t nearly up. And if you’d just listen to reason—”

She pinned him with another frown. “There is no reason for what you did. You went behind my back. You talk about being noble and honest, but you still like to do things your own way. Maybe that’s what got you in trouble down in New Orleans in the first place—” She let out a gasp, then put her hand to her mouth, regret coloring her eyes. “Adam—”

Her words pierced Adam with all the clarity of a knife cutting into his heart. “Don’t,” he said, his breath coming too quickly. “You wanted me gone, then I’m gone. But you need to go up to that apartment and look at that picture, Stella, really look at it. And you also need to read the letters your mama left in that old trunk. Letters to you, Stella. That was the real gift I wanted to give you last night.”

An hour later he was on the outskirts of town when his cell phone rang. The caller ID showed the number for the inn. At first, Adam ignored the ringing phone. He wasn’t going back to the Sanctuary Inn. But the phone kept on ringing, so he snarled a “Hello.”

“Mr. Adam?”

“Kyle, is that you?”

“Yessir. We need your help. Grandpa and me.”

Adam pulled into a fast-food joint, then stopped the truck. “Kyle, is Wally okay?”

“He’s fine, except something went bad wrong out back. The water sprinklers you installed a few weeks ago went all haywire. Now there’s water everywhere and Mama’s out there, all wet and we can’t get the sprinklers to shut off and, well, she’ll have to pay for the damage to the tables and all. There’s pink from the ribbons on the white cloths. It’s a mess. Can you come and help us, please?”