Artist's Dream

by Gerri Hill

  “Oh, I will. It’s very beautiful.” Luke’s voice softened to nearly a purr, her eyes never leaving Cassie’s. “I hope we run into each other again.”

  Suddenly Cassie didn’t want to leave, and she hesitated as the woman’s voice enveloped her. She swallowed, willing her feet to move, willing her eyes to pull away. Do something!

  “Well… good-bye, then.” She turned and made herself walk, not run, her back positively burning where she assumed dark eyes were looking.

  She ran both hands through her hair in frustration as she faded into the crowd. Why was Luke Winston able to make a mockery out of her life without even trying?

  Luke Winston. Such an odd name for a woman so beautiful. She

  closed her eyes tightly. Not beautiful. Just an attractive woman. Just a stranger that she would never see again. With any luck.

  “Hey, about time,” Kim called. “I’ll need commission, I think.” She pointed to the empty spot where the small totem had been.

  “You sold the totem?” Cassie asked, her eyes wide. She had been trying to get rid of it for three years. “How did you know what to-ask?”

  Kim bit her lower lip. “How much did you want for it?”

  “A thousand,” Cassie said.

  Kim broke into a smile. “Good. I got fifteen hundred.”

  “Jesus Christ! How?”

  “Well, I knew to ask less than the eagle.”

  “The eagle took me twice as long to make,” Cassie explained. “I dropped the price to eight hundred last year, just in hope of getting rid of it. It takes up space in my shop.”

  “Hey, so post signs next time,” Kim said. “It was an older genŹtleman with four teenagers in tow. He wanted it for a lodge or something. Now, the details.” She lowered her voice and grinned. “That woman is gorgeous, with a body to go with it. God! Her check says she’s from the city. What’s she doing here two weekends in a row?”

  “How should I know,” Cassie said crossly, looking away from Kim.

  “She didn’t offer and knowing you, you didn’t ask.”

  “Why would I ask? It doesn’t concern me,” Cassie said.

  Kim tilted her head and grinned. “In all the years I’ve been doing this with you, that was the first time you’ve ever offered to help carry one of those out of here,” she stated, waving at the remaining pieces.

  “I’m sure you’re mistaken. I’ve done it … several times.” Damn!

  But Kim only smiled. “Sure you have. Did she make a pass at you?”

  “Of course not! Why would she?”

  “Oh, come on. Surely you could see the way she was looking at you,” Kim teased.

  Cassie turned cool blue eyes to Kim. “Don’t,” she said quietly. “I will not have this discussion with you here.”

  “I’m just teasing.”

  “Yes, well don’t.”

  Kim placed her hands on her hips and stared at Cassie. “Can’t you just let go for once? Must you always have this shield around you?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cassie said, searching for her piece of wood, something, anything to appear busy.

  Kim handed her the wood silently.

  “You’re never going to enjoy life,” she said, raising her hands around her, “if you’re so goddamned afraid of having feelings.”

  Cassie faced her squarely. “I don’t know how to have feelings,” she said quietly.

  Kim shook her head. “Just let go for once, Cass. What are you afraid of?”

  “I’m afraid of life. It comes from years of living with my father,” she said.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Kim said. “I didn’t mean…”

  “No, I know I have a problem. I can’t seem to feel anything for anyone,” Cassie said. Her expression softened. “I don’t mean you. You’re my best friend. I feel that,” she said, touching her chest. “I just can’t seem to find anyone … for me. And yes, maybe I am afraid. I’m afraid of men because my father warned me about them my whole life, how they’re only after one thing. And I’m certainly afraid of women, because I’ll rot in hell from that kind of love for sure,” she finished, tears now brimming in her eyes.

  “Hey, I’m sorry,” Kim said gently, giving her a quick hug. “I’m sorry.”

  Cassie brushed an errant tear from her cheek and smiled slightly. “I need a good therapist, I know.”

  “Maybe you just need a good lay,” Kim said, and Cassie laughed with her.

  Chapter Six

  Cassie studied the two bottles of wine in her basket, then reached for one more. Another advantage of living in Sonoma County was the wine selection. And after spending two weeks of forced solitude in her workshop, she was ready to break loose a bit. She felt like cooking, too. She had barely taken time to eat, much less cook, and cooking was her one means of escape.

  She had spent nearly every waking hour working on the eagle in flight. As she had told Luke Winston, it just happened. She and Kim had struggled with the huge chunk of driftwood for hours, finally getting their friend Carl to assist them. His truck had barely held the wood and the three of them had managed to carry it into her workshop where it laid for months. She knew it would be an eagle, it could have been nothing else. The eagle was her favorite subject. But it had grown and grown, until its magnificent wings stretched out six feet. Now, after two months of lovingly chiseling and carving, it was finished. And she hated to part with it. But she had worked painstakingly the past two weeks on the off chance

  that Luke Winston would call, or at least the clients she had spoken of, and offer her an outrageous amount of money for it.

  Now, she just wanted to relax. And the weather forecast seemed perfect. A storm was coming. Heavy rain was due by this evening, and it would linger through tomorrow. She planned to cook and curl up with a good book and read, something she had not taken the time to do in months.

  But she was surprised at the dark clouds overhead as she loaded her groceries. The rain was not supposed to hit until later but already the first fat drops were wetting her face as she hurried inside her van. She rubbed her hands together quickly to warm them before pulling away, a smile breaking her face. The rain was as good an excuse as any to stay inside and avoid company. Mainly Kim. She had spoken to her only a few times in the last two weeks. Their conversation on the day of the festival still hung between them, and Cassie knew that Kim wanted to talk about it. But Cassie, however, did not. She had grown accustomed to hiding her feelings. A trait that caused many to call her cool and aloof. In realŹity, she was anything but that. But it was a facade that grew on her, and she had perfected it over the years. So much so, that she rarely shared her true feelings with anyone. In fact, she wasn’t sure she even knew what her true feelings were anymore.

  She headed down the rural road which would take her to the acre lot she had purchased nearly six years ago. The house hadn’t been in the best of shape, but the large work shed had been in nearly perfect condition. That and the eight mature apple trees had sold her on the place. Over the years, she had remodeled the tiny house more to her liking, redoing most of the kitchen, her favorite room, and knocking out a wall and making the two small bedrooms into one large room for herself. She rarely had comŹpany, and on the two occasions that her father had come to visit, he had made do with the sofa.

  She had moved to Sebastopol for two reasons. One, because Kim had moved in with Lisa and had left a terrible void in her life. She found herself making the trip nearly every weekend to stay with them, and she had fallen in love with the area. And two,

  because it was filled with artists. And art shows. So, she had saved every penny and bought the farm nearly a year after Kim had moved. She never regretted her decision. If nothing else, it had enabled her to escape her father. At least physically. Mentally, his words and preaching still haunted her.

  “Those boys only want one thing, Cassandra. I will not have a daughter of mine seen out dancing, of all things. It will only lead to trouble, girl. You mind my words.
Don’t you ever let one of them touch you!”

  She was lost in thought when the rain hit with dizzying speed. Her wipers could not keep pace with the downpour, and she strained to see the road, leaning closer to the windshield and rubŹbing the now foggy glass with her hand.

  The sudden jolting of the van made her grip the steering wheel tighdy to keep it on the road, and then she heard the unmistakable sound of a flat tire.

  “Oh shit,” she hissed. Cassie slowed, her eyes wide, trying in vain to find the side of the road, hoping she didn’t drive off too far and land in the ditch, but far enough so that she wouldn’t be hit by another car. It was impossible to see through the pounding rain, and she eased off the road just a little farther.

  Turning in her seat, she searched the back for the umbrella, cursing when she remembered leaving it beside the kitchen door the last time it had rained.

  “Shit… shit, shit,” she muttered. She then looked for someŹthing, anything to shield her, wondering why she still believed the so-called experts. The storm wasn’t supposed to hit for hours yet. She was totally unprepared.

  She shook her head, then on a silent count of three, threw open the door against the wind, and went out into the downpour. Shielding her eyes from the rain, she surveyed the very flat tire on the passenger side, now sinking lower into the muddy earth as water ran off the road at an alarming pace.

  “Well, shit,” she said again under her breath, her soaked clothes clinging to her chilled body. How was she to attempt to change the tire in this weatlier? Providing she even knew how to change a tire.

  She had just passed one of the many dairy farms in the area. She

  supposed she would have to attempt to walk there. She shook her

  head, wondering why she did not have a cell phone like most

  normal people. Probably the same reason she didn’t have a comŹ

  puter, she mused.

  The blast of a horn startled her and she looked up, shocked to find a black Lexus easing to a stop. The passenger door swung open and Cassie stared inside.

  “Get in before you drown,” Luke Winston yelled as the storm raged around them.

  Cassie hurried to the door, then hesitated, glancing at the leather seats.

  “I’m soaking wet,” she said unnecessarily.

  “No kidding. Get in.”

  Cassie hopped in and slammed the door as water ran from her wet hair into her eyes and down her face. The sound of the storm subsided somewhat as Luke pulled in front of her van and stopped.

  “Are you okay? What happened?” she demanded.

  “Just a flat,” Cassie said. “Do you have a phone? Can you call someone?”

  “Yes, I’ve got a phone, but I doubt you’ll get anyone to come out in this storm,” Luke said. “Where do you live?”

  “About another five miles,” Cassie said, finally wiping at her rain soaked hair and daring to look at her rescuer. “But this storm … I hate for you to have to drive in it.”

  Luke bent her head and looked out at the weather, frowning. “I live just ahead,” she said. “You can come home with me until this lets up some. Then we can see about getting your tire changed.”

  “You live … here?” Cassie asked, the surprise evident in her voice.

  “I have a house here, yes,” Luke said, starting to pull away.

  “Wait,” Cassie said, her hand reaching out lightly to grab Luke’s forearm. “I mean … I hate to impose,” she said lamely. She most definitely did not want to go to this woman’s house.

  “You’re not imposing.”

  “I’ve got food… I’ve been shopping,” she stammered.

  Luke gave her an amused smile. “I wasn’t expecting payment.”

  Cassie gave a short laugh. “No. I mean, I’ve got things in the van that need to be refrigerated.”

  Luke cocked her head and raised an eyebrow. “Well, lucky for you, I have a refrigerator.”

  She leaned between the seats, and Cassie pressed herself against the door, her nerves on edge, this woman’s nearness immediately causing her senses to reel.

  Luke turned back around with an umbrella in her hands and offered it to Cassie.

  Cassie stared at it silently for a moment, then looked up into dark eyes. “I don’t really see the point,” Cassie murmured, lifting one corner of her mouth in a smile as a raindrop ran down her nose. She hurried back into the storm, putting into one bag the things that would spoil and rushed back to Luke.

  “I’m so sorry… your seats,” she said, trying to wipe the rain off of the leather.

  Luke took the canvas bag from her and put it in the back. “Don’t worry about the seats. Now, strap in,” she said, motioning to the seatbelt.

  Luke turned down a dirt road only a few hundred yards past Cassie’s stranded van, a road Cassie had passed hundreds of times before. Luke wiped at the windshield with her hand as they splashed through the mud, jarring them in their seats.

  “Hell of a storm,” Luke said, almost to herself.

  Cassie nodded silently, wondering what in the world she was doing riding with Luke Winston, going to her house, no less! She kept quiet, hoping that Luke could see the road because she could not. The wipers tried frantically to keep pace with the rain, and Cassie glanced at the woman beside her, noting how strong her hands seemed as they gripped the steering wheel. Her fingers were long and smooth with neatly kept nails, and Cassie’s eyes were glued to them. She felt a strange sensation travel through her body as she watched those hands. She pulled her eyes away, closing them briefly as she listened to the rain pound the vehicle.

  She was surprised when the sound subsided, and found that

  they were under what appeared to be a carport of sorts. Luke cut the engine, and they sat for a moment, staring at each other.

  “I didn’t know you lived out here,” Cassie said carefully. “I’ve

  never seen you around town.”

  “I’ve been building,” Luke explained. “I just recently started staying here.”

  It wasn’t actually a carport, Cassie noted when they got out. It was more of a covered shelter built into the side of the building. She looked around as Luke reached in the back for her bag. It looked more like a barn than a house.

  “Come on.”

  Cassie followed her inside, pausing to remove her muddy shoes by the mat before entering the most unusual house she had ever seen. She stood there, arms wrapped around her chilled body, and glanced at the large expanse of the building.

  “You need to get out of those wet clothes,” Luke was saying and Cassie brought her eyes back to the woman standing before her.

  “In there,” she said, gently pushing Cassie toward a door. “Take a hot shower. I’ll bring you some clothes. Afterward, I’ll give you the nickel tour if you want.”

  Cassie nodded silently and opened the door to the bathroom, much larger than her own. She slowly turned a circle, looking at the impeccably clean room, wondering if it had ever been used before. Then she faced the mirror and groaned. Her hair was plasŹtered to her head and her wet shirt and shorts clung to her body. She looked frightful.

  She turned from the mirror and stripped off her wet clothing, putting them all in a neat pile on the floor. The walk-in shower had no door and she stood at the back of the tiled enclosure, lookŹing at the three shower heads with a slight frown. There was only one knob. She turned it, surprised that water fell from all three shower heads. Neat. She stepped into the hot spray, thinking that Kim would find all of this very amusing. She smiled. Actually, she found it quite amusing herself. Here she was, calmly showering at the house of a woman that she had secretly prayed she would never see again. A woman whose mere presence sent her pulse racing.

  When she stepped out of the shower, she was surprised to find her wet clothes gone, replaced by a pair of gray sweats and an Oakland Raiders jersey. She had not heard Luke enter the bathŹroom. A thick towel hung beside the shower and Cassie reached for it, quickly drying herself. As she pulled
the sweats over her naked body, she groaned with embarrassment. Luke had not only taken her wet clothes, she had taken her bra and panties as well.

  She found a comb in one of the drawers and brushed her wet hair back. It would dry soon enough and she stood there, in clothes one size too big, delaying her departure from the sanctuary of the bathroom. She met her eyes in the mirror and tried to smile. She would have to go out eventually. She could get through this, she told herself. Right?

  “Of course you can,” she murmured quietly. “She’s just a woman.”

  Cassie’s stomach rumbled as soon as she stepped out. Luke was apparently cooking. She found her at the opposite end, the kitchen separated from the rest of the house by a ten-foot long bar. As she walked toward Luke, she looked around, astounded by the unusual house. It was simply one very large room, the ceiling reaching up some twenty feet or more. Floor-to-ceiling windows covered the entire back wall, and Cassie watched the rain splatter against them, wondering at the view on a clear day. Opposite from the kitchen on the far side of the building were stairs going up into a loft. The bedroom, Cassie assumed. It, too, was full of windows facing west. Tucked neatly under the loft was a large stone fireplace. Two leather sofas formed a semi-circle, encompassing both the fireplace and the patio. Beside the fireplace, looking out toward the patio, was her eagle.

  “Feel better?” Luke called.

  “Much. Thanks for the clothes.”

  “I put yours in the dryer,” she said. “Feel free to look around.”

  The only area of the room that was not impeccably neat was a desk, complete with a computer, printer and fax. Blueprints were strewn about and Cassie looked back to Luke.

  “You’re an architect,” she stated.

  “Yes.”

  Cassie looked back at the room. “And this …”

  “I like space,” Luke said. “I can’t stand being crowded by walls and low ceilings.” She stirred the pot one more time and put on the lid, then joined Cassie. “I finished it about six months ago, but I was too busy to move in. Actually, I’m not all the way moved in yet. I still have a house in the city that hasn’t sold so I haven’t had to clean it out. I’ll probably do that within the next few weeks, though. My realtor says she thinks she’ll have a contract on it by the end of the week.”