Coincidences: #3 Diana & Anya

by Diroll-Nichols, Karen

  Diana Mayweather

  Anya Miller

  Coincidences

  Book 6

  Karen A. Nichols

  Copyright 2011 by Karen A. Nichols

  Smashwords Edition

  Published by Karen Nichols. Copyright, Karen Nichols. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Chapter One

  Diana put drawing materials, paints and canvases inside the trunk of her car. A case with some clothes went next, all casual and easily washable. She had her easel, brushes and cleaner; she had cash and her debit card. She was set. She left a note addressed to her grandmother on the table inside the door, closing it after her in the dark.

  She wanted to draw. She wanted to paint. She loved being lost in the colors and textures of the things she recreated on paper or canvas. Her father never understood that. Certainly the two men she’d been married to hadn’t understood. Silly drawings. Diana drove through the very early morning, watching the sun come up over the mountains to her right as she headed to the lodge.

  Other people saw scenery. She saw colors of nature at their finest. A sparkling silver mist or haunting grey fog settling over the heads of flowers or tops of trees. The rising steam of earth heat weaving its way into the sky. She drove very slowly along the driveway, stopping and pulling to the side, she withdrew her camera and began taking pictures of the lodge from several angles. In this early morning light, it was mystical, she thought. Snapping away as sunlight caught a corner of a window; a low hanging cloud of fog was settled over the taller trees to the east.

  The heavy log and wood structure would make a wonderful painting. It was barely seven when she parked in the lot, locking her car and stepping onto the gravel. She tugged her jacket close, her computer on one shoulder and small purse on the other.

  Diana felt her stomach make itself known. She wasn’t sure if it was nerves or hunger. She paced the entry way to the lodge. Jane entered their lives and suddenly she was taking up residency at a lodge and being commissioned to create some paintings.

  Suddenly she had a gallery person looking at her work.

  Suddenly her hands were shaking when someone behind her called out to her.

  “Diana?” Bella came out of the back, a bright smile greeting the woman her age. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Bella, welcome to the lodge. Let’s go to my office and talk.”

  “I’m very pleased to meet you. Jane’s had nothing but good things to say about you,” Diana followed slowly, taking in the tall ceilings and natural stone flooring. She wore flat comfortable shoes that moved quietly through the hall.

  “Olivia Barlow should be here anytime. She’s a good friend of Kate’s and has a very nice gallery in the West side of Seattle. I emailed her the photo’s Jane sent me and she’s amazed you’ve never shown your work before,” Bella gestured to a chair in front of the desk. “We talked about the pricing and she wants to talk to you about showing the larger pieces you’ve done.”

  “This is like…it’s not something I ever thought about,” Diana admitted quietly.

  “Well, I can pretty much guarantee you it’ll get even more fun,” Bella said with a laugh, inside knowing that Diana was now in the process of being scooped into their friends circle. “Amy is positive she can easily sell the ones she has and she’s also going to see about having some made into six by eight cards with the lodge’s logo on the back.”

  “Jane told me to breathe a lot,” Diana shook her head. “I can’t wait to take my camera and drawing pad into the hills and even up where there is still snow. I think it would be fantastic to be able to make a living from my painting. I always believed I was the only one interested in my paintings and drawings. Oh, and my grandmother…but grannie’s are supposed to love your art.”

  “Olivia is convinced you’ll easily be able to make a living and brighten up a great many rooms in the process. I’m grateful you’ve agreed to paint some from this local area, including the lodge. The paintings I settled for when I opened the lodge are alright, but I’d love some more tailored specifically to the lodge,” Bella brought out a map of the local park and the grounds of the lodge.

  Diana listened to the travelogue, smiling and folding the brightly colored map to slide into her case just as the tap came on the door. Olivia Barlow was vibrant and colorful and Diana decided she liked her immediately. She sported a turquoise shirt dress that touched her ankles and swirled when she walked on snort, chunky heels. Her hair was a beautiful shade of deep red and was woven into a braid that touched her shoulders, bright Irish green eyes peered from behind a pair of small round glasses.

  With Bella’s help, Diana breathed a long sigh of relief. Olivia would be her agent and representative. All she had to do was paint, she mused as she wandered to the front with the women. She was about to complete her registration when Bella gripped her fingers.

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Bella waved at Olivia as she drove off. “This will be better than one of the lodge rooms and its compliments of Jane.”

  “Jane? But…” Diana followed the slight gesture Bella made, walking with her to the gift shop. Her head tipped back when Bella pointed to the second floor.

  “Amy and her husband moved into their new house a few days ago. I’ve had it cleaned and it’s already furnished,” Bella pulled the key card from her pocket and handed it to Diana, leading the way up the stairs to the side of the gift shop. “Meals are in the dining area and the hours are posted, or just come see me. We always have left overs in the fridge for staff.”

  Diana spun slowly in place once she was inside. “It’s a perfect studio,” she breathed in amazement. Light streamed in from all sides, the large space carefully divided with partitions. There were wide, clear skylights allowing light to strike all corners of the huge apartment and she already had a vision of where she would set up her painting station.

  Bella saw Diana’s fingertips rise and touch her lips. Saw her lips quiver and watched the long, steadying breath Diana pulled into her body. Bella hugged her from behind.

  “It’s okay, you know. We don’t really know each other…although you put a great deal of yourself into your paintings. Jane told me you needed a new place…maybe a new you. So this is your new place for a while,” Bella accepted her silent nod, smiling when she swiped the tear aside and straightened her shoulders. “I’ll get some help and we’ll unload your car for you.”

  “I have to get a couple mats to put on the floor before I can paint. I don’t want to damage anything,” Diana went with her to the car, not protesting when a young man began hauling her things to the new apartment.

  “Well, you have your key card and you’re no
w an official artist in residence,” Bella announced to the rising sun around them. “I’m off to run my lodge. I’ll see you later, Diana, have fun!” Bella slid her arm around Sam’s waist when she met up with him in the dining area, his kiss readily accepted.

  “So how goes the new resident?” He asked easily, still a little amazed at how comfortable and peaceful he felt with her near.

  “In shock, I think,” Bella said with a soft laugh.

  Sam only winked at her. “You and your friends have that effect on people sometimes.”

  Shock was a word Diana would use to describe what she was feeling. She drove to a local hardware store and found the indoor-outdoor mats she wanted for beneath her easel, along with a few other things for her new home. She’d spent hours talking with Jane about her marriages. She was thirty three and had never been alone and it was well past time for that event to happen.

  Diane stored the mats in her car and wandered around the collection of shops in the long international area. Her gaze caught on a brightly colored skirt, with a dazzlingly white blouse and a vest of golds and blues, coins dangling from the edges. The blouse had billowy sleeves and an elastic scoop neckline. She stood before the window of the middle European shop, her mind drifting to her own closet.

  Jane had asked her why she dressed in such quiet colors while her paintings oozed with all the brilliance of the rainbow. And more. Diana knew the answer. It had been ingrained in her by her grandmother. A lady was demure and quiet. It was her place, she remembered with a soft sigh. So while her closet was filled with mild pastels, beige and dark slacks, her paintings burst with all the unrestrained color that was Diana. But Jane’s question of why still echoed in her mind. To please, she mused absently. Her mother had died when she was barely four years old. Lily had escaped the rigor of girl’s schools and proper deportment, but Diana had not.

  Diana twirled before the mirror, a flush of pink tinting her cheeks at the compliments from the woman. She quickly changed into her own clothes and paid for the outfit, feeling for all the world like a child who had just done something very disapproved of.

  She drove back to the lodge, spread the mats on the floor and set up her easel with a fresh blank canvas. Diana knew what she wanted on the canvas, her pencil moving expertly over the large blank white sheet. The lodge at spring time. She gazed at the lodge out the window and turned to watch the sun and the angle of the light.

  Diana sketched for a few more minutes before finding her large sketch pad, her digital camera, several pencils and efficiently loaded everything into her large carry case. With the case slung over her shoulder, she wandered into the lodge and toward the kitchen. Because she wasn’t familiar with the area, she promised she’d let Bella know if she was going into the hills.

  “Take the lodge jeep, actually, it’s mine and hardly ever used,” Bella walked with Diana to her office, a jangling set of keys pulled from the desk drawer. “It’s accustomed to those trails and a bit higher than your little car. Just be careful and adhere to the closed signs, please.”

  “I will, I promise and thank you,” Diana headed to where the jeep was parked, blinking for a few minutes at the mud spatters over the deep green. She thought of her poor little car on trails as she maneuvered the jeep out of the parking lot, following the signs to the national park area.

  The middle of the week, the first week of May and the weather was being amazing, she decided, driving slowly over the trail that led to a wide camping area next to the lake nestled high in the hills. Diana parked, pulled the brake and dropped the keys into her case, slinging it over her shoulder as she headed out along the path that ran several feet from the water.

  There were a few people around. It was almost noon. An older couple sat sipping coffee and watching a little dog run by the water. They waved and smiled, her palm up to return the greeting. Khaki pants and loose fitting shirts and tee shirts. Diana winced at the pastel button down blouse and black slacks she wore. She definitely needed some outdoors type clothing.

  There was a sweetness to the fresh air, scented with pine and cedar and moisture; burning campfires and spring. Diana kept an eye on her direction on the path, glad there were markings to guide her back to the campground.

  She settled on a large group of rocks, one leg bent and holding her sketch pad as she drew the lake with the white border of snowcapped mountains behind it. The mist had long ago evaporated but she knew she’d be back in the morning hoping to catch some photos. She had finished with that sketch and turned to a blank page, setting the large drawing pad aside and getting her camera out. Moving carefully around the rocks, she snapped off pictures from various angles.

  She wandered to the long boat dock, eyeing it skeptically. It looked sound enough. And there were no warning signs to avoid it. Her flat shoes stepped cautiously on the weathered boards. It didn’t move. No swaying. No creaking, yet. Another step forward, she raised her camera and positioned the shot she wanted, snapping it off and quickly retreating from the dock.

  “It’s solid enough to hold you,” a deeply masculine voice assured her. He’d been watching her since she left the parking area. She definitely wasn’t from around here, he mused with a half-smile. Her shoes were flat with rounded toes and good tread, he thought, looking down at the prints she left behind. And they did fit the dark slacks and cute little collar shirt she wore. She was beautiful. A high riding ponytail of yellow gold curled from the back of her head and her eyes were big and round, a deep dark sapphire surrounded by thick pale lashes that now blinked at him in surprise.

  Chapter Two

  “Oh!” Diana froze in her movements, turning slowly to face the voice. She felt her heart thudding. She hated being snuck up on. She worked hard to keep her features neutral, her gaze sweeping quickly from the heavy hiking boots, stained jeans and open plaid flannel shirt. A black tee shirt was underneath and he held a fishing rod in one hand and some wiggling fish in the other. Mountain Dan, her mind intoned from an old movie. He had dark hair, a deep brown that covered his ears and most of his face. He was tall and lean, his cheeks well-tanned.

  “Umm…thank you…but I’m good…I have the picture…” Struggling to keep her opinion to herself.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said quietly, very aware of the unease in her eyes. “They take pretty good care of the docks and trails up here.” Cultured, he thought, taking in the two tone manicure on the long, slim fingers. Sweet little city girl.

  “Thank you,” Diana wasn’t sure about the smell. Was it the fish or the man? She couldn’t stop the twitching in her nose and put her hand up with a gentle wave, her eyes flitting over the ground to locate her case. She moved casually toward it.

  “Do you like fish? Just caught a few for lunch,” he walked closer, curious gaze sweeping the blank sheet of the drawing pad. “My campsite is over this way. I even have some fresh coffee.”

  “That’s most kind of you, really…very generous…I’m not hungry…and I wouldn’t dream of imposing…I mean, I’m sure you’re a very good cook,” Diana cleared her throat and gestured to another path. “I’m just going to do some drawing. Enjoy your lunch,” she said quickly, snatching up her case and striding down the path leading around the lake.

  Diana was sure she didn’t breathe for several feet along the path, not trusting herself to look over her shoulder. She continued along the path, the sound of rushing water holding her attention as she walked in the direction of the noise. It was a small waterfall, cascading over rocks and was only eight or ten feet high, ending in a large clear pool of fresh water. She found some large stones and perched on the edge.

  Gideon Adams walked to his campsite, set the fish down and brought his hand up to run over his neck. He caught a partial glimpse of himself in the small mirror and winced at the impression his appearance must have sent. His palm stroked the two week old growth on his face. No wonder she ran, he thought with a laugh, cleaning the fish and prepping them for lunch. He went to the lake to wash off the s
cales and looked up toward the plateau where the waterfall drained before forming the trickle into the lake. She was sitting on some rocks, just staring for a long time before he saw her lift a large white pad and begin drawing.

  Even as he walked toward where she was perched, his mind told him again that she was very out of place in the woods. Gideon leaned his shoulder against a tall pine, hands in his pockets. He could see the sketch she was making, her hand steady and sure as she drew, tiny changes added or erased before she turned the page and lifted her camera as she had done before, snapping off several shots.

  Diana caught herself staring at the crystals in the falling water, droplets and mist sending so many colors into her mind. Yet when her pencil touched the clean sheet of paper, it was the man at the lake that appeared. Fish dangling from one hand and rod in the other. She closed her eyes, trying to recall the contour of the rod and what hung from its end as she drew. His eyes were dark, skin tanned. A stray grey hair appeared now and then, she thought, sketching out the memory and including the variety of pine and cedar trees behind him.

  “No wonder you ran,” he mused, coming up quietly behind her and peering at an amazing replica of himself staring back from the sheet of paper. He caught the drawing pad before it hit the ground, his other hand out and taking her wrist tightly when she jumped up, teetering on the uneven ground. “Whoa…easy there…I’m not dangerous, I promise, despite what I appear.”

  Diana was positive her heart had stopped this time. Pale lashes closed for a long minute before opening and staring down pointedly at her wrist. His hands were as tanned as his face, a weathered golden color. His fingers opened slowly while he held up her drawing pad in the other hand.

  “Will you stop sneaking up on me?” She took her drawing pad, clutching it to her after closing it. “Why are you…aren’t you…shouldn’t you be having lunch or something?” She demanded testily.