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Authors: Karen Ball

BOOK: Kaleidoscope Eyes
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Annie studied the man beside her. Ageless. That’s the word that came to mind when she first met Ryan, and it still applied. With his smooth features and lean frame, he could be anywhere from twenty to forty. True, his short cropped hair had silvered at the temples, but rather than age him, it just gave him a distinctive air.

Killian had hired Ryan as his assistant a little over three years ago. The two not only shared a similar artistic temperament, but they looked enough alike to be brothers. They even wore the same kind of glasses, much to Annie’s amusement. But where Killian loved the spotlight, Ryan was far more comfortable backstage. Which made him more understanding of Annie’s distaste for crowds.

He glanced at her. “Does Killian know you’re hiding back here?”

“No. I’ve been careful not to let him see me.”

Ryan lifted one lean hand to brush at the ficus branches. “Good hiding spot.” His gaze drifted to Dan. “But I’m afraid it’s not big enough to hide your brother as well as you. And if Killian sees him here—”

He didn’t need to finish. If Killian saw Dan, he’d know Annie was hiding out there as well.

Dan held up his hands. “Say no more. I’ve been wanting to visit that buffet since I arrived.”

Annie laughed. “You’d better hop to it before Jayce eats it all.”

Dan turned, eyes wide. “He’s there already? We just got here!”

“Are you kidding? Your son has the most effective food radar I’ve ever seen. Now go, you big oaf.”

She didn’t have to tell him twice—well actually she did—but she didn’t have to tell him thrice.

“I’d probably better get back to our guests.” Ryan studied the throngs spilling from this room into the next. “I’m guessing we’ve had close to twice the attendance Killian anticipated.” He grinned. “Should make him happy”

“It should make him ecstatic, but you know Killian.”

Ryan’s grin faded a fraction. “Yes, I know Killian. He’s not exactly easy to please.”

Annie tipped her head. “Yes, well, if he neglects to say anything, I want you to know I appreciate all you did for this showing. It’s your advertising and promotion ideas that sparked people’s interest.”

He looked at the crowds again. “I imagine your beautiful art had something to do with it too.”

She shrugged at his wry tone. “It’s just a window, Ryan. I mean, it’s not like I cured cancer or anything.”

But despite her protestations, she was glad. Glad all these people were here. For her work. For her.

And that irritated her to no end.

“Face it, Annie. You’re good at what you do—” his gaze drifted to the large stained glass window beyond them—“make that
great
at what you do. At finding people like you did this morning—”

“Kodi finds people. I’m just along for the ride.”

He ignored her. “And at your art. So it’s not a cure for cancer. It’s still beautiful. And people appreciate that.”

She supposed he was right.

“Well, back to work.” He glanced around the ficus. “I don’t see Killian, so you should be safe here a while longer.” He patted her arm. “Just relax and bask in the moment, okay?”

Annie watched him move away, then she caught sight of Dan from across the room. In one hand he held a large plate heaped with goodies, in the other a punch glass. When he spotted her watching him, he grinned and held up his punch, the crystal glass looking miniature in his massive paw as he toasted her.

Jayce, who stood beside Dan, reached under his raised arm and snatched something off Dan’s plate. Dan’s responding yelp made Annie laugh. She loved watching those two together.

“They’ve come a long way, eh?”

The words were accompanied by the gentle pressure of a shoulder against hers. Annie leaned back, slanting a look at the man beside her. She should’ve known she couldn’t hide from him much longer.

“Hey, Killie.”

“Hey there.” He linked his arm in hers, tilting his head. “Explain to me, will you, why my star artist is hiding behind a potted plant at her own showing?” His red brows climbed up from behind those round glasses. “Her very successful showing, I might add.”

Annie flicked a finger at the earpiece of his glasses, then tugged at his short, curly hair. “Honestly, Killian, why do you wear those things? You know you don’t need them.”

He waggled a finger at her. “Ah, ah, no you don’t. I won’t be distracted.”

Annie knew that wasn’t true. In fact, she was counting on it. Sure enough, he reached up to adjust the glasses.

“Besides, Ryan says they make me look … academic. Scholarly even.”

She leaned her head close to his. “Ryan’s just trying to get on your good side.”

“Pity I haven’t got one, isn’t it?” His sardonic tone was a perfect match for his expression. “Well, I’d best get back to your adoring fans. I mean,
one
of us has to.”

“You do have Ryan out there, you know. And he’s better than four of me.”

“He’s better than four of most anyone. Don’t know what I did before I hired him.”

Annie’s lips twitched. “Good thing you were smart enough to do so.”

“Indeed. Just don’t tell him that. He’s not going to be happy until I make him a partner in my gallery.”

“He
has
worked hard, Killian.”

“Three years of hard work does not a partner make. I built this place, not Ryan. It’s
my
reputation, not his, that draws people here. When he’s survived ten years in this business,
then
I’ll think about it.” He delivered a peck on her cheek and headed for the crowd.

Annie settled back against the wall, watching him go. Poor Ryan. Did he have any idea just how far away that partnership really was? She doubted it. Killian might be arrogant, but he wasn’t stupid. He wouldn’t take a chance on losing Ryan to someone who’d actually give him his due.

Nice thoughts about your friend, Annie.

She shrugged. Hey, she loved Killian. But she didn’t have any illusions about him.

Her glance drifted back to her brother, and she saw that Shelby, his wife, had joined him and Jayce at the buffet table. Annie’s heart smiled as she watched her brother and his family Their colors were so different—marigold for Dan, raspberry for Jayce, and emerald green for Shelby—and yet they fit together so well. As Annie watched them now, the colors shimmered and blended, creating a warm, harmonious rainbow outline. No doubt about it, those three belonged together.

Annie could hardly believe it had been nearly a year since Jayce
came to live with Dan. The teen had been so good for her brother, helping him get through the deaths of his son and daughter, Aaron and Shannon. And Dan had been great for Jayce, helping the boy overcome a troubled past to blossom into a really great kid.

As for Shelby … well, she just kept those two in line and had a blast doing it.

Three women moved past Annie’s hiding place, and she caught bits and pieces of their conversation—words like
beautiful creative, genius …
Words they were using to describe her.

No, not me. My window.

She’d known the floor-to-ceiling stained glass window she’d created for the new Central Point city library was something special. Even now, as she studied the way the sunlight played in the rich colors and varied styles of glass she’d chosen, she could hardly believe she’d made the window.

A wealthy businessman in the valley had commissioned her to do the piece for the library. He had lived on the Oregon coast most of his life, and when he ’talked with Annie about the window, he told her he had only one request.

“Can you put something in it … I don’t know, a scene or something, that makes me feel like I’m back on the beach, watching the waves?”

He sounded so hopeful, so wistful, that Annie couldn’t refuse. Of course, she hadn’t been at all sure she could pull it off. She’d spent days—weeks—sketching, matching colors and textures of glass, leaning back and letting words run through her mind. As they did, their colors shifted and blended, showing her what belonged in the piece.

Ocean … the snowy white of the
o
flowed through the rest of the letters.

Beach …
b’s
deep red tones warmed everything around it.

The rust of waves, the deep blue of tide, the green of
sand
, the yellow
of gulls.
Slowly but surely they coalesced, creating a sense in Annie’s mind of the colors and images she should use.

The window was only half finished when Killian came to her
studio to see how it was going. He’d walked in and stood there, watching her work. She was so immersed in painting gold accents on one of the pieces of glass that she hadn’t noticed him at first. Not until he started clapping. Then she jumped and spun—and found him staring at the window, tears in his eyes.

“It’s stunning—” His voice cracked, and he drew a deep breath.

She turned back to the window, its pieces laid out on the table before her like a giant puzzle, and let his words wash over her. The scene was a young boy sitting on the beach, the ocean spread out in front of him, a book in his lap. And above him, as though being brought to life in his imagination, were characters and scenes from well-known books.

“It really is, Annie.” Killian lay one hand on the window “It’s the best work you’ve ever done.”

She’d thought so too but had been afraid to say so out loud.

Annie had discovered stained glass in high school—and immediately knew she’d come home. Her stained glass art was one of the few places her synesthesia really fit. She never felt funny about it in her work—in fact, it helped her. Seeing colors the way she did, in letters and numbers, when music was playing, enabled her to create windows with added depth and dimension. She spent several years as an apprentice to an established artist, then took the plunge and branched out on her own.

Now, almost seven years later, she was at a place she’d never imagined. Though she tried not to think about it too often, Killian said she was one of the most sought-after stained glass artists in the country All she knew was that she never lacked for creative challenges, and her art gave her the freedom to stay as involved as she wanted with K-9 SAR. Which left Annie feeling abundantly blessed.

Now if she could just figure out how to do what she loved without having to endure showings.

Shame on you, Annie! You should be grateful for all Killie has done for you.

Yes, of course. That was true. And she was grateful. Not to mention—she glanced around—a bit astonished. There had to be close
to five hundred people milling around Expressions. And they all seemed to be talking about her. Annie knew she should be flattered.

Instead, all she could think about was getting out of here. Killian loved these events, as evidenced by the fact that he and the ever-present Ryan were now surrounded by dozens of art lovers all discussing the finer points of Annie’s work.

Annie had endured the crush of people she didn’t know, saying things that she didn’t fully believe, for as long as she could. Then she stole away to this secluded little corner of the gallery to hide and thin—

“Excuse me?”

Annie look down into the most kind twinkling green eyes she’d ever seen. She didn’t even have to force the smile that lifted her lips. “Yes?”

One thin, blue-veined hand came to perch on Annie’s arm. “You’re the artist, aren’t you? Miss Justice?”

Annie put her hand over the woman’s small fingers. “Yes, I am.”

“Miss Justice, my name is Serafina Stowe.”

Serafina Stowe. Double Ss. Annie’s mind’s eye refocused as the colors slid into place, outlining Serafina in a beautiful Kelly green—the perfect match for her eyes.

Kelly green was a good color. Warm and friendly. Happy and alive. With a color like that, Annie couldn’t help but like this little woman.

“Miss Justice, I have a message for you. From my husband, Cletus.”

Annie looked behind the woman. “Oh? Is he here?”

The woman’s fingers trembled on Annie’s arm. “No, dear. He’s not with us.”

“Not … ” Annie focused on the woman’s face. Was she saying what Annie thought she was saying? “You mean he stayed home?”

“No, I mean he
went
home.” Sweet joy mixed with loss in her smile. “Cancer, I’m afraid.”

It was hard for Annie to speak around the lump in her throat. “A terrible disease.”

“Yes, but as my dear Cletus used to say, anything that takes us home is a chariot of gold.”

Now Annie smiled. “He sounds like a wonderful man.”

“Oh, he was. But he died before he could make his fondest dream come true.”

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Stowe.”

Those clear eyes—eyes of a teenager, not an octogenarian—sparkled. “Oh, not to worry, dear.
You’re
going to make it happen.”

Annie stared at the white-haired woman smiling up at her. Amazing. The woman seemed so vibrant and intelligent … but clearly she was just this side of crazy.

Annie glanced around, praying for someone—anyone—to interrupt them. But suddenly the throngs intent on talking with her seemed nonexistent. It was just her and a crazy woman.

A
sweet crazy
woman, mind you. But crazy was crazy. “Mrs. Stowe … ”

“Please, call me Serafina.”

“Serafina, I’m sorry. I have to—”

Thin fingers tightened on Annie’s arm, and the woman’s gentle smile didn’t falter. “Cletus wanted to have a special stained glass window made for our little church. It’s too small to afford such an extravagance, but my dear Cletus saw to it that part of the money from his estate would pay for the window. And when I heard about you, I knew. You are the artist to do it.”

Dan, where are you when I need you? Some brother you are, abandoning me like this.
“Why me?”

“Because the window has to be special.”

Annie considered this. “I like to think all my windows are special.”

“No, dear. You don’t understand. Cletus’s window must help people, even those who’ve known God all their lives, see Him—or some aspect of Him—in a new way
That’s
why I came to you. Because the paper said you see things others don’t.” She patted Annie’s hand. “Yes indeed, God led me to you. So you can let people see who He really is.”

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