The Artisans

by Julie Reece

  “His leaving devastated your mama. Living in the Bible Belt invites as much judgment as it does compassion. Her parents only wanted to shield her from shame, and hoped she might marry someone else. Not long afterward, I came to work in their shop as a new hire. Though I was older, too, I was madly in love with Ida and she had little choice but to accept my proposal. Never wanting you to feel you was any less than the other kids, your mama made sure you knew nothing of your real father.”

  I blink. Hard. And shake my head. “She lied to me?”

  “She protected you. All you need to know is that you’re special. Can’t you see that?”

  With a surge of anger, I lean forward. “Oh, I’m special all right. On top of everything else, I’m the bastard daughter of a—”

  “No, child.” The hurt in Ben’s eyes makes me want to punch myself in the face. I never meant to slight him.

  “I’m sorry. It’s the shock. I didn’t mean it, and —”

  “You have every right to be upset. I don’t blame you.”

  My head falls into my hands, and I groan. The floor is spotless. My gaze follows the joining seams of shiny linoleum as my frustration leaks away. “I’m not angry, not really. I can’t judge Mother, and you know I love you, it’s just …” I always thought I was wanted. “I’m surprised is all.”

  “I’m sorry, about your father, honey, but you was loved. You think on what I’ve said, and try to forgive me and your mama for keeping the truth from you for so long.” My head lifts and meets his glassy-eyed gaze.

  “There’s nothing to forgive, Ben. All right? Forget about him. He has nothing to do with us. I just don’t understand why God lets bad things happen.”

  “What bad things? You mean her dying, my drinking … you talking about you?”

  “All of it, I guess.”

  “You, listen to me, gal. Your mama always said if God were small enough for her to understand, he wouldn’t be big enough for her to worship. Remember Isaiah 61:3, ‘God brings beauty from ashes.’ It was her favorite, because of you.”

  Throat tight, I swallow. “I’ll remember.”

  “Good.” His smile is weak as he nods. “There’s something else needs saying.”

  “Okay.” My neck stiffens, bracing for whatever he’ll say next.

  “Here’s the thing. The first time I called Maddox, I wanted him to come down here, so I could take his head off. I was angry, blamed him for taking you away from me, and putting me in here. He stood there, saying nothing, while I yelled at him until I collapsed in my chair. I’d worn myself out in a passion. And you know what that boy did?”

  My chin digs into the palm of my hand as I speak. “No idea.”

  “He thanked me. Actually thanked me for allowing you to stay with him. Called it ‘the privilege’ of knowing you.” Ben makes quote marks in the air with his fingers as he’d seen me do a thousand times growing up. “Promised he’d care for you, that no harm would come to you, and then he left. That surprised the hound out of me. And later on, it got me to thinking.”

  My head tilts. “About what, Pops?”

  “That’s why I called Maddox a second time. See, he really seems to genuinely admire your abilities. He’s rich, right?” I lower my hands and straighten, not at all happy about where his train of thought is heading. “I wondered if his company gives college scholarships or if he might have a place for you after high school, in one of his fancy clothing stores …”

  “Oh, Ben you didn’t. I’m not going begging to the likes of Gideon Maddox for a job or school. Not for anything.” I stand. “We don’t need him.”

  He drops his papers on his lap. “We might.”

  I walk to the bed and ease myself down next to him, taking care not to jostle his IV. My voice lowers to a whisper. “What are you saying?”

  “After my stay in the hospital, the doctors ran some tests. Seems all my hard living has caught up to me. Liver’s shot, sweetie. I talked to Maddox because I want you to have something to hang on to.”

  “We have each other. You just focus on getting well. We’ll figure the rest out later, once you’re out of here.”

  “No.” He takes my hand, gripping stronger than I thought him capable. “No.” His voice softens. “You’ll need a place to go, sweetheart. After I’m gone.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  When I roll over, two eyes stare back at me, one sky blue, the other sea green. Soft morning light lifts the gloom off the night in my bedroom, like a blotter lifts ink from a page. An odd peace fills my spirit.

  “You’re here,” I say.

  “I’m here.” Gideon lies on his side, facing me. The scarring around his eye shows silver in this light. He wears no shirt. Red, drawstring flannel hugs his waist.

  My hand slides across his smooth chest. I close my eyes. Sinewy cords roll under soft skin. “I’m dreaming.”

  “Yes, you are,” he murmurs. There’s a smile in his voice. He leans closer, pressing against my palm. He grasps my fingers in his, pinning me with his stare. I feel the ridged muscles in his torso flex as he moves. The breath I release is quick and sharp.

  “We can’t be together. You get that, right?”

  He lifts a lock of my hair off my cheek. “No.”

  “I’m damaged.”

  “You’re beautiful.” The raw look in his eyes hollows my stomach.

  “I’m broken.”

  His fingers trace the outline of my mouth. “Not to me.”

  “But I can’t love anyone, not anymore.”

  “Oh, you love. Deeply.” His eyes flare. “You won me with a love that binds my heart to yours—irrevocably.” He kisses my forehead, my nose. The muscles in my stomach tighten. “Chains softer than silk, stronger than iron.”

  My gaze drops to my fingers on his chest.

  “Don’t do that. Don’t dismiss me. I love you, Raven. Do you hear me? I love you.”

  “Raven …”

  Light floods my room, forcing me awake. I growl and roll over, bumping Edgar. “Get thee behind me Satan, or whoever you are. If you don’t close those blinds, I will kick you in the shins.” The heavy scent of hickory-smoked bacon assaults my nose. While the sweet aroma softens morning grumpiness, my pride hangs on with all ten fingers.

  “We really are going to have to do something with that mouth of yours,” Gideon remarks. “I have a few ideas, but I’m willing to wait until after breakfast.”

  “Go away.” I reach under Edgar’s chin and scratch until he purrs.

  “Tsk, tsk. Not happening.” I hear him push the drapes open. “Besides, I’ll not allow you to toy with my affections. Not after the way you clung to me all yesterday on our ride home, and then last night … While I hate the underlying reason, I can’t deny the effects for me were rather nice.”

  It’s true. The news of Ben’s declining health, after telling me I was illegitimate finished me off. Gideon gently led me to the car. He wrapped an arm around my shoulder while I lay my head on his chest and wept quietly all the way home. Once there, he followed me up to my room, and asked Jenny to bring a light supper upstairs. My mysterious benefactor sat reading me poetry in ‘his chair’ until he left without a word around midnight. I’m not sure I’ll ever understand the guy.

  “Don’t coddle me, Gideon,” I mumble into my pillow. “And be sure to say what you really think while you’re at it.”

  “I will.”

  I roll over and rub my eyes. Edgar steps on top of my chest, but he’s too heavy. With a sigh, I sit up and plop him in my lap for some kitty ear scratching. Gideon stops what he’s doing, stares at us, and it hits me. I’m not in my bed. “What the …” The room is enormous. There’s a brick fireplace across from the black, four-poster bed I’m sitting on. Rich, dark furnishings, sage-green bedding … “This is your room?”

  He nods, unable to hide his smile. “Thanks for visiting. Again. I really deserve some sort of sainthood for this. Is there a Nobel prize given for restr
aint?”

  Heat scalds my face as I glance down. I’m wearing a black lace top and gray flannel shorts. Could be worse I guess, but part of me wants to curl up and die. Suicide seems a perfectly viable option, considering I woke up in Gideon’s bed! When I glance up, he’s still, openly staring. “What?”

  “It’s unfair to the rest of the women at large for anyone to be so gorgeous first thing in the morning.”

  I keep my focus riveted on Edgar. “Thanks.” His deep laugh sets off another blush, which I ignore as I kiss my cat’s head. “And I’m sorry about the night visiting thing. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with you,” he snaps. Confused, I raise my eyes in time to see his expression soften. “People sleepwalk, Raven. If you need to go somewhere, I’m glad you feel you can come to me, even subconsciously.”

  Mid-sentence, his tone turns tender, and has a blitzkrieg effect on my senses. I blurt out the first thing I think to change the subject. “Why are you here?”

  He crosses the room and takes a seat on the end of the bed. “See, now that hurts.” He holds up two fingers. “First, though I enjoying seeing you in those pajamas, it’s my room you keep invading.” He folds one finger down. “Second, you’ve already forgotten we were supposed to have a very special outing today, to one of my most favorite haunts.”

  “Please don’t say haunt.”

  Another laugh. “Get up, girl. Eat the delicious breakfast Jenny made, or you’ll crush her Irish pride. Then get dressed. I have to leave tomorrow morning for New York. I tried to move the meeting, but it’s damned impossible. That gives us today.” His brows wing up. “Well? You’re not moving. Hurry up. We leave in an hour.”

  “Bossy.”

  “Stubborn.” He takes a piece of bacon off the plate sitting on his end table and bites the end off with a growl.

  “Fine.” I don’t feel like going, but it’s not worth arguing over. I don’t have the heart. “You win again.”

  He grins like a fiend.

  ***

  I unclench my jaw and slide off the back of Gideon’s four-wheeler. With a gentle tug, I ease my fingerless gloves off my hands. The bruised knuckles on my left hand throb as I press my fingers to my face. The skin is ice cold. My lips tingle from racing through the cool, crisp air. I’m not sure all-terrain vehicles are my cup of tea, but there you are.

  The spot he’s taken me to borders the edge of his property. A small meadow nestled alongside the Coosaw River. The water is a wide, silver snake meandering through mossy green countryside and the canopy of oaks is a slightly darker hue. The sky is brilliant, as bright as Gideon’s blue eye.

  He stands with his hands on his hips, taking in the view of the river. When he twists toward me, he points to our vehicle. “Will you grab those blankets?”

  I release the Velcro straps securing dual rolls of plaid fabric and toss one to Gideon. He smiles. “What, no sharing?”

  Ignoring his question, I walk right past him. Choosing a level spot by the river, I spread my pallet on the ground and relax. A chilly breeze tosses my hair across my face. The air smells fresh and clean with a hint of salt. Nearby, a heron stabs at a fish with his sharp bill. “It’s like a painting out here.”

  Gideon follows me to the water’s edge. His chest rises with his inhalation. “My mother and I used to come here when I was little. Jamis would haul my wheelchair outside. Jenny would make us a picnic lunch, and we’d stay for hours in the spring and late summer.” His brow creases. “Before the fall winds came. I was sick a lot in the winter months. Always on holidays.”

  “Well, I can see why she brought you,” I say, with an attempt to distract him from bad memories. “It’s a stunning view.”

  His blanket hits the grass and he drops down next to me. His curls stir in the wind, gleam in the sunlight. The skin on his face is smooth and golden, until it meets the slightly darker shadow of his jaw line. “I wanted to show you this spot. I thought it might inspire something in you, the way it does me.”

  Of course. He brought me here for designing ideas, so I would make more clothing for him. I nod, strangely let down. When I face him, his expression remains an unreadable mask. I wonder what he was inspired to do. “Gideon?” It may not be the right time, but I have to ask.

  “Hmm.”

  “Why didn’t you go to college? Don’t you want to be a lawyer?”

  He shrugs. “After my father’s death, I worked harder than ever to attain his goals for my life.” His eyes narrow on the gentle current of the river. “I graduated high school at sixteen, took a few college classes online. My father’s V.P. tutored me in business, board meetings, supervised projects, travel. Law is expected, what my father would have wanted, but I stalled on attending a university.”

  “Why, what do you want to do?”

  He’s quiet a moment, as if he’s weighing his words. “You were right, about me, Raven. I was changing, but I didn’t know why myself. I’ve been restless, confused. As an Artisan, and Maddox heir, I’m responsible for a tradition of acts committed long before my time. I’m a … keeper of those deeds.”

  This house has more secrets than Hogwarts. Gideon is trying to tell me something while doing his darndest not to tell me. It reminds me of Cole, and my patience crumbles. “You can be whatever you want to be. In New York, you said when you want something you just take it. Where is that guy?”

  He shakes his head. “You don’t understand.”

  I stand, brushing away the grass stuck to my jeans. “Ugh. Explain it! People make me insane. Ben drinks because my mother is dead. Dane wants Maggie, but he won’t take her because he thinks he’s not good enough, and—”

  “Dane wants Maggie?”

  I feel the scowl creasing my forehead. “Yeah, what? You didn’t know that?”

  “I thought he … never mind.”

  “Fine.” I stare at the riverbank. “All I’ve ever wanted was …” I can’t finish. With Ben ill, what I wanted doesn’t matter now. “Dane could go for what he wants and won’t, and you … you will become a lawyer because your father wanted a son to take his place. Grow a pair, people!”

  “Raven.” He rises. There’s a warning in his tone that I don’t heed.

  “No. No! There’s something strange, cursed about your house. I can feel it in my bones. Don’t let it have you, Gideon.”

  Something flashes in his eyes. Pain? Worry? When I look again, it’s gone. I must have imagined it.

  I throw a blade of grass to the ground. “I don’t know what to do anymore. Ben is dying. My prospects are pretty grim. I’m not feeling sorry for myself.” Okay, maybe a little, yes I am. “It’s just you … it drives me crazy because you have all the freedom in the world. Every advantage to follow your dreams, and I’m so jealous. You are rich, smart. Capable of amazing things, and at times, you’ve been so nice to me …” I throw my hands up. “All I’m saying is that you have the potential to do good instead of hurt people. It’s up to you to decide what you want.”

  His eyes narrow dangerously. “You’re right.” Four determined steps closes the distance between us. His hand wraps my neck, gentle force behind his grip. I take a shallow breath as his eyes blaze a trail to my soul. With the softest touch imaginable, his fingers brush my skin. His nostrils flare, his jaw sets like concrete.

  “What is it?” I whisper, both terrified and curious over the conflicting emotions evident in his shining eyes.

  “You’ve ruined me, Raven. Broken me down, and destroyed whatever I was. Whoever I might have been.” His hand stays at my throat. With the other, he runs his three middle fingers over my trembling lips. My heart beats erratically.

  I take step back. I can’t control my breathing and my legs have gone to sleep. I’m pretty sure I know where this discussion is leading, but I can’t go forward until he answers one question. The one that’s tortured me for days on end. “What about your … that girl?”

  “Who?”
/>
  “The girl. The model in New York. I saw you together in the hallway of our hotel.”

  “You saw that?” His head falls back, and he laughs without humor. “And how long did you watch us, sweet Raven? Not long enough, I think.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Hmm, no, you don’t. She came to my room, and I sent her away.”

  “You did? But …”

  Taking a step back, he pulls the gold coin from his pocket and rolls it back and forth between his fingers at a dizzying speed. “Did you know crows collect reflective objects?”

  What a what? Okay, that’s so not where I thought this was heading. I ease to the ground to keep from embarrassing myself with a fall. “No, I didn’t.”

  Gideon’s pacing makes my head ache. “Tinfoil, beads, coins, the male collects anything shiny to decorate his nest.” He stops and faces me. “That’s the way I felt about you. I wanted to own you, like a shiny, new toy. Don’t deny the connection between us the first time we met.”

  I didn’t.

  “And then. When you marched into the library, so angry, so passionate—”

  “You wanted to kill me?”

  “No. I wanted to possess you.”

  The moths in my stomach take flight. I swallow as he kneels in front of me, almost on top of me. I count the stitching where his golden skin meets the fabric at his chest. I want to touch him, and hit him, and scream all at once. Then he’s lifting my hips, tugging me forward until his knees bump mine. “Gideon.” I’m powerless against him, and I know he knows it.

  “Let me get this out.”

  I nod, wanting to both know the truth and run the opposite direction as fast as I can.

  “When you came here, in defense of Ben, I’d never seen such loyalty. You challenged me, insulted the name of Maddox. No one does that. No one.” His fingers thread my hair. “That took a great deal of courage, but you didn’t stop there, did you?” The words come out like a curse. “No. You sacrificed yourself, gave yourself up for him, a drunk who had hurt you in every conceivable way. I was enthralled, captivated by the idea of a girl who could do something so … unselfish for someone that undeserving. I wanted you, in every way a man might want to possess a woman, but how to hold you?” A frown pulls at his lips. “So, I came up with the idea of using your abilities as seamstress as a ruse to keep you here, with me. It was lust and envy, greed and jealousy—all acts of my dominance and will. At first.”