Country Proud (Painted Pony Creek #2) - Linda Lael Miller Page 0,85

the dresser top, and realized two things—time had definitely gotten away from her, and several texts had come in while she was working.

Quitting time.

She dropped her brushes into a plastic coffee container filled with water and reserved for the purpose, letting them soak until she could clean them properly. Unlike watercolors, acrylic paints couldn’t be washed away in the sink without catastrophic damage to the plumbing.

Making her way toward the kitchen, careful not to trip over a still-winding cat, Brynne cleaned her hands with disposable wipes, then washed them under running water.

She fed Waldo and refilled his water bowl, then returned to her improvised studio to reclaim her phone with clean hands.

While deciding what she wanted for dinner, she thumbed open the texts and read them in order.

From Clay: Brynne, I’m sorry for dropping in unexpectedly the way I did. I just wanted to see for myself if you were open to giving things a second try. Clearly, you aren’t, and I’ll respect your wishes. Again, I apologize for intruding in your life.

From Sara: If you need to talk, I’m here.

From Davey: Dad says he came to visit you and you weren’t happy to see him so he’s going to leave you alone from here on out. Will you still be happy to see Maddie and me, if we come to spend part of spring vacation with you?

Finally, from Eli: I was wrong, and I’m sorry.

Tears burned behind Brynne’s eyes, and she pressed her lips together to keep from breaking down again.

She brewed a cup of tea, plunked herself down at the table, and pressed the buttons that would connect her with Clay.

He sounded confused when he answered, “Brynne?”

“You’re right,” she said, not unkindly. “It’s over between us. I appreciate your apology, but I think I need to say sorry, too. You caught me off guard, and I reacted like a crazy person.”

Clay was quiet for a long time. “The kids are worried that you’ll uninvite them, come spring.”

“I know,” Brynne said. “I’m calling them next. They are definitely still welcome here. In fact, I can barely wait to pick them up at the airport.”

Clay expelled a long, relieved breath. “Their aunt Elle—Heather’s sister—is a flight attendant. She’ll arrange to escort them as far as Kalispell. That way, you won’t have to deal with their fool of a father.”

“You’ve made mistakes. So have I. Let’s agree to wish each other well and move on with our lives.”

You talk a good game, Brynne Bailey, scoffed a voice in her mind, but can you go after what you really want, or are you going to keep on camping out in the past like you’ve been doing since you left Boston?

Do you even know what you want?

Brynne sighed, looked down at her clothes and smiled. She looked as though she’d covered the studio/guest room floor in gallons of paint, then rolled in it.

Yeah, she knew what—and whom—she wanted.

But did she have the courage to move beyond her fears and doubts and go for it?

Fortunately, she didn’t have to decide tonight. Or tomorrow. Or next week.

There was no rush.

“Thanks, Brynne. For getting back to me, I mean. I’ve been kicking myself ever since I left Painted Pony Creek.” Clay paused, cleared his throat. “It’s a beautiful place, by the way.”

“It is,” Brynne said. For the first time since her return, she felt truly at home.

She belonged right here, in this place, with these people, and knowing that for certain was a powerful blessing. Now she could plant her feet, square her shoulders and go forward into all that awaited her.

There would be joy, and sorrow.

Wins and losses.

All the polarities that make up a human life, fully lived.

And she was ready.

Or, at least, she thought she was.

After speaking with Clay, she put through a call to Davey and Maddie, told them the visit was very much on. Mentally, she bedecked every limb of every maple and oak tree along Main Street in bright yellow ribbons, just for them.

Sara received a text. I’m okay. Honestly. We’ll get together soon.

By then, she’d dealt with everyone in her text list except Eli.

And she didn’t know quite what to say to him.

She couldn’t help wondering if he’d been projecting when he’d told her she wasn’t ready for a relationship. Maybe he wasn’t ready, and hadn’t realized it yet.

Furthermore, as sheriff of Wild Horse County, with two recent deaths on the books, technically unresolved, he was understandably distracted.

On the other hand, he had apologized, and she didn’t want to leave