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Authors: Gerri Hill

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BOOK: Artist's Dream
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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 Cass
ie.

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 Cass
ie.
“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.”

“This is beautiful,/’ Cassie said. “It’s most unusual.”

“I like it. I’ve been working on it for nearly two years. I was more than ready to have it finished.” Luke pointed to the loft. “I’d take you up and show you the bedroom. The view is incredible, but we wouldn’t see much today.” She walked back into the kitchen. “Something to drink?”

“Yes,” Cassie said, walking into the spacious kitchen for the first time.

“Nonalcoholic, I’m afraid.” She opened the refrigerator and peered inside. “I have juice—apple-strawberry. Club soda, a nice sparkling apple cider made right here in Sebastopol, and plain old Coke,” she said, looking at Cassie expectantly.

“How about the nice sparkling apple cider?” Cassie pulled out one of the barstools and sat down, watching Luke as she reached for two wineglasses, her eyes drawn to Luke’s flat stomach as her shirt pulled up. Luke had changed her clothes, too. Gray cotton shorts replacing her jeans. Cassie swallowed and pulled her eyes away, feeling a hot blush on her cheeks as Luke handed her a glass. She took it quickly and shrank back away from her.

“Wineglasses but no wine?” Cassie asked. “You’ll be run out of Sonoma County if anyone finds out,” she said with a smile.

“Yes. A bit like moving to Santa Fe and not liking Mexican food.” Luke paused, as if deciding whether to continue or not. “Not liking it wasn’t my problem,” she said. “Beer, whiskey, wine … I liked it all. Too much. So, I quit.”

“Totally?”

 

“Totally, yeah. That’s when I started working out. I ended up trading one addiction for another.” Luke’s face broke into a smile. “And it’s become that. I’ve got a small gym out back. Just the basics, but enough to keep me satisfied.”

“How long now?”

“Since I’ve had a drink?”

Cassie nodded.

“I was thirty-two. Six years now, I guess,” she said. She pulled out a stool at the opposite end of the bar, and Cassie’s eyes folŹlowed her. They studied each other for a moment, silently.

“You have the most incredible eyes,” Luke said softly. “Bluest I’ve ever seen.”

Cassie felt her heart catch, then race, sending fire through her body. Her eyes widened as Luke watched her.

“I’m not a … I’m not gay,” she finally stammered.

Luke laughed and snapped her fingers. “Damn! I keep forgetŹting that rule not to compliment straight women.”

Cassie blushed crimson. “I’m sorry. I just thought I should …”

“Warn me? In case I had designs on you?” Luke laughed again, a deep, husky laugh that Cassie found enjoyable, despite her embarrassment. “You’re perfectly safe. Trust me,” Luke said.

BOOK: Artist's Dream
4.72Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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