Against the Wall (Stoddard Art School Series Book 3) (21 page)

The last couple of days had been easy between the two of them. They were both busy with work, but still managed to steal a kiss or share a cup of coffee when their paths crossed. She was looking forward to dinner.

The subject of the cottage hadn’t come up again. Claire Winston hadn’t bothered to talk to Kay. Seemed the standoff continued.

Walter had stopped by as usual, but he told Bear he’d decided to play
Switzerland
where Dottie, Kay, and her mother were concerned. Said Claire had been a damn fool all these years, but he knew better than to come between his wife and her best friend, no matter what his opinion happened to be.

And by some miracle of miracles, Bear hadn’t heard from Diane in close to forty-eight hours. Had to be a record. He’d had another brief phone conversation with Adam Dunbar. Adam was working an angle on a continuance. Diane’s lawyers were giving him the run around, but for right now, anyway, the deposition was on hold.

Bear grabbed a refill and headed toward the lobby to pull up the designs for the final landscaping. The sod should arrive next week. He glanced up at the sound of the front door closing.

“Bear, good morning.” Dottie Polk gave him a small strained smile. Kay’s mother eyed him over Dottie’s shoulder.

“Dottie. Mrs. Winston. What brings you two out so early?”

“We…” Both women stopped to look around. “Oh, Bear,” gushed Dottie. She placed a hand to her heart. “Walter said the mural was beautiful, but I had no idea. It’s breathtaking.”

Claire Winston took a step closer to the wall leading toward the dining room. “My Kay did
this
?”

“No.
My
Kay did this,” Bear countered. Her incredulous tone made the muscle in his jaw tense. He didn’t care if his eye twitched for a solid year, he wasn’t going to take any crap from this woman. If she said one disparaging remark about Kay, she’d find herself back on the sidewalk. Stockbridge Winstons be damned.

“I can’t quite believe it.” She turned to Dottie. “Who knew she was so talented?”

Bear crossed his arms over his chest, tucking his fists. “The bigger question is, why don’t you know?”

“Bear,” Dottie warned.

“I beg your pardon.” Claire turned on him. “I don’t think I care for your tone, Mr. Coulter.”

“And I’m not sure I care for you in my inn, Mrs. Winston.”

“I don’t know what you think you know about my relationship with my daughter, but I’ll thank you to mind your own business.”

“Kay’s happiness
is
my business.”

“Hold on, hold on.” Dottie moved between them and put her hands up. “We didn’t come here to start a pissin’ contest.” She turned to Bear and showed him an envelope. “Kay got a letter from Stoddard. The last time it was a nice fat check. I thought we should bring it right over. Is she here?”

“No. She’s not due until after noon. As far as I know, she’s at the cottage. Packing.” His voice chilled the last word.

Claire Winston’s chin notched a bit higher.

“You could always leave it with me. I’ll make sure she gets it,” Bear suggested.

“No.” Dottie shook her head and gave Claire a pointed look. “We should head over there. It could be real important.” Turning to Bear, she laid a calming hand on his arm. “The inn is gorgeous, Bear. Really. The mural. Everything.” An apologetic smile filtered across her face. “We shouldn’t have interrupted your morning. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He glanced in Claire’s direction. She was once again studying Kay’s work. He lowered his voice at Dottie. “Go easy, okay?”

Dottie gave his arm a squeeze. “I love her, too, remember.”

“She may need reminding.”

Pressing her lips together, Dottie blinked back the sudden shine in her eyes. She nodded and turned to leave.

Bear shook his head at the door closing behind Dottie and Claire. He was in full protect mode, and part of him wanted to rush to the cove to what…warn Kay? Shield her? Soothe away the hurt after her mother got through swinging her haughty sword of disapproval?

How could she not see what the rest of the world saw? Kay was incredible. Talented. Beautiful. Kind and loving. For a moment he almost felt sorry for Claire Winston. She’d missed it. She didn’t know her own daughter. Didn’t have a clue as to what Kay’s life was like, or where her passions lie. All she saw was that Kay wasn’t a carbon copy of her.

“Thank God,” he mumbled as he once more picked up the designs for the back gardens.

When the door opened for the second time, Bear gritted his teeth before looking up. “Back so soon? Come to apologize?”

“Hardly.”

Bear’s head snapped up. “What the fu—
Diane
.”

She stood with her hands planted firmly on her hips. “If you care anything about this inn or about me, you’ll go pack a bag. We have a plane to catch.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Kay stretched the clear tape across the length of the cardboard carton. It was premature to be packing, but she was an expert on quick getaways. It was one of the benefits of not owning many things. With so much up in the air where the cottage was concerned, it didn’t hurt to box a few things now.

She thought back to her conversation with Bear. It was tempting to think of staying with him for the rest of the summer, but living out at the point house would mean seeing the cottage every day. It would be hard watching strangers moving in and changing things.

And what about Hope? She wasn’t about to abandon her. The cat had finally come to trust Kay enough not to bolt back into the underbrush each time Kay stepped onto the porch. Now in the mornings, when Kay placed her food down, she’d sit and wait for the cat to come up onto the deck to eat. Not too close, but each day the distance between her and the skittish cat was becoming less and less. Trust was a funny thing, even with animals. Forever to build, mere seconds to destroy.

Kay found a pet carrier at the secondhand shop a few days ago. Maybe if she set it out and started putting Hope’s food inside, the cat would trust her to crate her when it came time to leave. But to where, and when? Kay hated not knowing.

The only thing she did know, she was falling in love with Bear Coulter more and more every day. And not for the big reasons like he was beautiful to look at and a-may-zing in bed. No, it was the little things that really touched her heart. It was the way he rubbed her shoulders when she was stiff and sore after painting for hours. Or the way he went out to get her coffee in the afternoons, so she wouldn’t have to drink the sludge passing for coffee in the kitchen. He valued her opinion. Made her feel cherished. Came undone when she cried. It was a heady combination, and she couldn’t remember ever having feelings this strong.

It was hard to explain, but she’d spent so much energy making her own way. Ferocious in not having to depend on anyone. Not financially. Not emotionally. Even when she was with Todd, there was an underlying feeling she could manage by herself if things went wrong. Perhaps she had a sixth sense she and Todd wouldn’t last.

Adding the carton to the small pile next to the couch, Kay stood and stretched her back. Don’t ask her how she knew, but somehow, wherever she landed or when, having Bear in her life gave her the sense all would be well. Maybe she didn’t have to do it all by herself.

A tap sounded at the back door. When Kay pushed back the curtain, there was Dottie. She held up a letter and gave Kay a sheepish smile. Ah, the internship paperwork from Stoddard. Maddie was fast.

Kay swung open the door.

“May I come in?”

“Since when do you have to ask?”

“Given our last conversation, I wasn’t sure if I was welcome.”

“Of course, you’re welcome.”

Dottie moved past Kay before handing her the envelope. “This came for you, and I thought it might be important.”

“Yes, and no.” Kay studied the Stoddard School of Art logo above the return address. “It’s just some paperwork I don’t really need any more.”

“Oh…” Dottie shoved her hands in her pockets and shifted her stance. “Well, we stopped by the inn first. Bear said—”

“We?”

“Your mother and I. She…she decided it might be better if I came out here on my own.”

Kay fought to urge to ask why. She wasn’t used to walking through a verbal minefield with Dottie. Her mother was a full on frontal assault, but with Dottie, it had never been this tense. She played with the corner of the letter. “I hate that we fought.”

“I hate it, too.” Dottie reached out and stroked Kay’s arm. “We saw the mural. It blew me away, sweetheart. Walter’s been telling me, but even my imaginings were nowhere near accurate. It’s spectacular.”

“Thanks.” She’d said “we,” hadn’t she? Despite every stop sign her mind threw at her. Regardless of a deep-seated knowing of what the answer was, Kay couldn’t help herself. “So what did Claire think of it?” As soon as the words found air, she regretted them. Regretted her seven-year-old’s need for some sliver of praise. She’d once more set herself up. The quick frown on Dottie’s face told her everything. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does. Your mother is—”

Kay held up a hand to stop her. “Don’t.”

Dottie dropped into one of the kitchen chairs. “I’ll be damned if I can understand what goes on in Claire’s head sometimes. With you especially. I don’t get it, but there’s something you need to know.”

“I’m done, Dottie.” Kay leaned on the back of a chair to steady herself. “She can sell the cottage, she can forget she even has a daughter. There’s nothing you can tell me that will change anything. I’m sorry.”

“She’s sick.”

Kay pushed away from the chair, folded the letter from Stoddard, and shoved it into the back pocket of her jeans. “I don’t want to hear this.”

“And I don’t want to be the one to tell you. She swore me to secrecy, but jeezum rice, you’re her daughter.”

“How sick?”

Dottie didn’t answer, but once again, Kay could read her face. The tumble of emotions choked her. How was she supposed to feel? Anger sparred with guilt. Worry pushed through apathy. After the initial wave, all that truly remained was sadness.

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s all you have to say?” Dottie looked shocked.

“What did you want me to say?” Kay threw up a hand. “She swore you to secrecy because she didn’t want me to know. What does that tell you?”

“She’s protecting you.”

“That would be a first,” Kay scoffed. “Nothing has changed. And now, I guess, it never will.”

“You know,” Dottie snapped. “If you don’t lose the damn chip on your shoulder and work it out, you’ll regret it. It’s hard, but that’s life, Kay. Believe it or not, Claire does love you.”

“Three words, Dottie. Three simple words.”

“They’re not so simple for some.” Dottie sighed and reached for Kay’s arm. “You need to be the bigger person.”

“I’m not the bad guy here, Dottie. I’m not the one who turned her back on this relationship. How much more do you want me to do?”

“Aren’t you even upset?”

“Of course, I’m upset. Once again, my mother has decided to keep me out of her life. She didn’t want me to know this. It’s why you kept it from me. For her. It’s always been about her. And yes, I’m sad. I’m sad she’s sick, and I’m sad she doesn’t feel it’s important enough for her to tell me. It’s what
she
wants. What I’m most sad about is what never was. I’m her daughter, her only child, and yet we’re more like strangers. We could have had an amazing relationship, but she picked Charles over me. She made her choice a long time ago.”

“You have to try,” Dottie pleaded.

“I don’t know if I can.” Kay crossed her arms over her chest to squeeze the sudden hurt there. “And I’m not sure I want to.”

“Then you aren’t the Kay I know.”

****

Kay pulled the Mini tight to the curb down the block from the inn. Parking was tough with all the tourists in town. The scene with Dottie circled around and around her mind. She wasn’t heartless, but Claire’s demand she not be told only confirmed what Kay had already mourned. Yes, she was losing her mother, but hadn’t she already lost her?

Before Dottie left the cottage, she told Kay about the scene between Bear and her mother. She wished she could have witnessed that herself. Bear getting all…Bear. When was the last time someone defended her? If she hadn’t already loved him…

She came into through kitchen, hoping to find him working out back. There was so much she wanted to tell him, but first she simply craved the feel of his arms around her. No Bear by the new patio, no Shadow greeting either. The dog was an Olympic napper. Give him a sunbeam, and he was a goner. But Bear’s car was here, so he had to be around somewhere.

Kay pushed into the foyer. A tall red-haired woman in a beautiful sage-colored suit was behind the desk speaking on the phone. “Yes, flight two eight one nine. Can you tell me if it’s on schedule?” Kay caught her eye. Cool green eyes appraised her. She smiled. “Thank you.”

Hanging up the phone, the woman smoothed the lines of her jacket before checking the time on her gold watch. “Can I help you?”

“I was just going to ask you the same thing.” Kay frowned, but shrugged it off. “I’m Kay Winston. I work here.”

The woman lit a cigarette and blew the smoke toward the ceiling. “Oh, yes, you’re the artist.”

Kay looked down at her paint-smudged clothes. “Good guess.”

“Bear has told me so much about you. I love what you’ve done here.” Her manicured hand swept the lobby. “It’s…nice.”

“I’m sorry, but who are you?”

“Mrs. Diane Coulter, Bear’s wife.”

“Ex-wife.” Kay was quick to correct her.

Diane gave her a cool smile. “Technically, yes.” She shrugged a shoulder. “But not for long. I’m happy the inn is almost done, so he can come back to California for good this time. Dual-coast relationships take so much work. But who knew the sex would be better
after
the divorce?” She lowered her voice as if she were sharing a secret and gave a coy smile. “Bear doesn’t do alone well, though. Likes having someone warming his bed, and the separation hasn’t been good for either of us. If we didn’t have our phone dates several times a day, I’m not sure we’d have made it this far.” She glanced back at her watch. “Did you need to talk to him? He just ran over to leave Shadow with a friend of his. Walter? Wait, isn’t he your uncle, sort of? Bear’s told me such stories about all of you. It’s nice to finally put faces to the names. I do hope he’s hurrying. I understand Walter can be quite the talker. If we don’t get going, we’re going to miss our plane.”