Brush Strokes
Page 7
"She's not breathing," someone said.
One of the officers was performing CPR.
"Do you know her?" another one asked.
"Michaela Manfred-Smith," he supplied.
The EMT's arrived and did a quick examination. The cops gave reports. Uniforms cordoned her off and Zack couldn't see her. Yet he heard the voice saying clear and knew they were using a defibrillator to restart her heart. Zack held his breath.
"She's breathing," someone said.
Zack let out the breath he'd been holding. He felt the coldness of the sweat that had accumulated on his body.
Pushing his way through the crowd, he asked, "Is she going to be all right?"
"We need to get her to the hospital immediately."
"I'll follow you." Zack grabbed Michaela's purse and took the key fob. No one stopped him, but his voice held a note saying he was going with her one way or another.
At the hospital, he paced the floor for hours. After finding her insurance information in her purse and giving the hospital everything he knew about her, and everything Blythe could confirm, he paced, waiting for someone to come out and tell him something.
Three hours later, an intern came out and said she was sleeping comfortably, but that was all they could tell him.
"May I see her?"
"She's asleep."
"You said that. May I see her?"
He hesitated a moment, but seeing the expression on Zack's face, the man relented.
Zack was taken to her room, where he refused to leave until she opened her eyes. Thankfully one of the nurses on duty knew who he was. Most times he felt uncomfortable when people recognized him as a painter. Often that involved a lot of comments on how they loved his work. But not today. At six o'clock in the morning, Michaela woke up.
Zack instantly left his seat and stood over her.
She moaned and tried to move.
He stopped her. "Be still," he said. "You were in an accident."
"My head hurts." She raised a hand. Zack took it and hit the call button on her bed to signal the nurse.
Almost immediately the nurse appeared.
"She's awake," he said.
A week later, Michaela looked at the sea covered walls and the massive fireplace in her room at Blythe Cove Manor. She closed the computer after saying goodbye to her parents for the third day in a row. They'd called every day since Blythe let them know about the accident. Michaela's father had her doing mental calisthenics to ensure that her head injury didn't have any lasting damages. Between them, Blythe and Zack, who had yet to leave the Vineyard, Michaela was constantly in someone's care.
Right on cue, there was a knock on her door. Zack came in carrying a tray.
"Zack, I'm perfectly capable of coming downstairs for meals. Every test they gave me in the hospital came back negative as you know. And even my father pronounced me mentally healthy."
"This is the last one."
"Oh," she said, feeling suddenly sad that he might be about to tell her he was finally leaving. "You're leaving the Vineyard?"
"I have to get back home. I have some commissions I'm going to be late in finishing."
"I understand. And I want to–"
"Don't thank me again," he interrupted. "I didn't do anything a normal person wouldn't have done."
"You stayed," she said. That meant more to her than any doctor's prognosis. He'd gotten off the ferry and rushed to her. And he'd stayed for four more days. But she knew time was against them. Eventually, they would both have to return to their lives. And most of the country would separate them. "You don't want me to thank you, but I'm very grateful for you taking charge of clearing all the boxes from the Walk and shipping them to their owners."
"I don't want to talk about that."
He indicated a chair and Michaela sat down. Zack took the seat on the other side.
"You haven't mentioned the Jacob Lawrence."
There's no need," she whispered.
"It's gone, isn't it."
Michaela didn't have to ask what he meant. "Yes, when I woke up in the hospital, the weight was gone. I had no urge to repaint someone else's work. I only wanted to do my own. How did you know it was gone?"
"There was something about the way you looked when you woke up. I thought it had to do with you being in pain, but when the pain subsided that look was still there. You had a lighter step and a happier outlook. I can't put it in the right words. What I saw wasn't something I can describe, but there was a difference."
"Why do you think it ended?" she asked.
"It might have been the electric shock. That's all I can come up with."
"Shock?"
"Your heart stopped," he told her.
Michaela was sure she heard his voice catch.
"They used a defibrillator to restart it. It mimics lightning," Zack said. "This is part of the reason I stayed. I wanted to know if you were all right and if your hands were still itching to paint."
"And I haven't mentioned painting in the last three days."
He nodded.
"When do you leave?" she asked, abruptly changing the subject.
"Tomorrow morning."
"Want me to drive you to the ferry?" she teased.
They both laughed remembering the disastrous outcome of the last trip.
"I hired a car this time."
Michaela stood up and walked to the glass doors that led to a balcony. Outside the sea stretched in an endless blue. "I guess this is good-bye."
"Not totally," he said.
Her heart raced.
"Invite me back next year?"
She looked at him to make sure he wasn't teasing her. His face was serious.
"You're willing to do this again?"
He stood up and came to stand beside her. "I could be persuaded."
Taking a closer step to him, she asked. "What would I have to do?"
Zack took her face in his hands. They were close enough for her to feel the warmth of his breath.
"Just ask," he whispered, threading his fingers into her hair and bringing her mouth to his.
* * *
THE END
Dear Reader
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading Brush Strokes! I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, please help other readers find this book. Here's something you can do.
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Have you ever had a feeling of déjà vu? It doesn't happen to me often, and usually I can work backwards to find out what triggered that feeling. And usually it's based in reality (as in I really have been here before). In the case of Brush Strokes, I had the feeling that I'd seen a certain painting before. While I love art galleries and play the tourist wherever I go, I had no memory of seeing the painting in my mind before.
This was the spark that led to Brush Strokes. I thought if I wrote about two characters who painted the same portrait, I'd exorcise the déjà vu. It hasn't happened yet, but I got a book out of the deal and I don't stay up nights thinking about where I've seen that painting before. As my characters have said, some things just can't be explained.
If you'd like to hear more about Brush Strokes, other books I've written and upcoming releases, you can email me at shirleyhailstockfan@gmail.com. I also have a newsletter. Please subscribe if you want more news about me. Clicking here.
Check out the links below and start reading another of my books. Adventure awaits you within the pages.
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Sincerely,
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Shirley Hailstock
Also by Shirley Hailstock
Capitol Chronicles Series
Under the Sheets
White Diamonds
More Than Gold
Mirror Image
Legacy
One Christmas Night
Under The Sheets/White Diamonds - Boxed Set
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House of Thorn Series
Love in Logan Beach (House of Thorn - Book 1)
Love in San Francisco (House of thorn - Book 2)
* * *
Christmas Collection
The Magic Shoppe
Kwanzaa Angel
The Christmas List
Christmas in Washington
* * *
Heartwarming Novels
Summer On Kendall Farm
Promises to Keep
A Heartwarming Holiday - Anthology
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Contemporary Romances
Opposites Attract
His 1-800 Wife
A Father’s Fortune
His Love Match
Someone Like You
All He Needs
* * *
Tales from Blythe Cove Manor
An Everlasting Bond - A Tale From Blythe Cove Manor
Forever Bound - A Tale From Blythe Cove Manor
* * *
Anthologies
Dangerous Secrets
Summer Magic - Tales From Blythe Cove Manor
Weekend Magic - Tales From Blythe Cove Manor
Blythe Cove Magic - Tales From Blythe Cove Manor
Vineyard Magic (Tales from Blythe Cove Manor)
A Very Romantic Christmas - Tales From Blythe Cove Manor
Blythe Cove Season (Non-Fiction)
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Novellas
It Only Happens in Christmas Town - Print Version
I Do!
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Women’s Fiction
Holding Up The World
Joy Road
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Short Stories
The Last Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich
Wrong Turn
Something To Remember
About the Author
Shirley Hailstock began her writing life as a lover of reading. She likes nothing better than to find a quiet corner where she can get lost in a book, explore new worlds and visit places she never expected to see. As an author, she can not only visit those places, but she can be the heroine of her own stories. The author of more than thirty novels and novellas, including her electronic editions, Shirley has received numerous awards, including the Borders Bestselling Romance Award and Romantic Times Magazine's Career Achievement Award. Shirley's books have appeared on Blackboard, Essence Magazine, Amazon.com and Library Journal Best Seller Lists. She is a past president of Romance Writers of America.
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