Her Blind Date Cowboy - Taylor Hart Page 0,10
he wanted to help her, he’d been pushing her to sell her art more lately.
He gestured to the room she'd made into a studio. “Yes, they are.”
She walked in and was shocked to see that he’d put her paintings on display. “What?”
Mr. Temple beamed. “I want to give you a feel of how we would display them, so I had Burney help me with the wires and we got them hung back here.”
It was magnificent. The pictures seemed to be floating against the walls. Tears misted into her eyes.
He took her hand and led her along as a father would a child. He pointed to her first painting. “You have a theme, little one. This one on the beach is a shattered first love. The woman has her back to his. We can’t see what she’s looking at, but we see the slump of the shoulders, the way her hand covers her face. We see the creases on this side of her eyes. It’s … beautiful.”
He moved on. “This one. The way the couple looks at each other, the way the light hits their bodies from an upward angle—it’s breathtaking.”
Evie shifted nervously. All of these paintings were of her and Liam, depicting their story.
“And this one,” Mr. Temple said, indicating the last one. “With the back of the couple and the girl’s veil flowing. The baby’s breath on his hair. It’s funny. I love the birds—they’re not traditional birds, but seagulls. It’s fun.”
After seeing Liam today, this whole conversation felt surreal. "I hate them,” she whispered.
“What?” He took both of her hands into his and evaluated her face. “Why?”
All of this was a stark reminder that hurting Liam had been her fault. All her fault and she hated the reminder. “You shouldn’t have done this.”
He frowned. “I didn’t realize you wouldn’t like it so much. I just thought you could make some money for university.”
“Not like this.”
“Are you okay?” Mr. Temple searched her face.
He was a kind man, but a persistent man. That’s why he was so good at owning the gallery, he could sense when it was time to close a sale, it was a tactic he had been trying to teach her.
“I don’t think so,” she admitted honestly.
His face softened. “You can do this. I don’t know what happened to you so long ago that caused this deep pain that I sense inside of you, but it’s time for you to break out of all the pain you’ve been through the past few years and fly little bird. It’s time.”
Her eyes fluttered. “No, it’s not time.” How could it be time? The pain just showed up and confronted her hours ago.
Mr. Temple hugged her. “It’s okay.”
She was on the verge of tears, but she nodded.
He put his arm around her shoulders. “Oh, sweetie. I know you’ve been through a lot.”
He didn’t know most of the details, but she’d told him some things.
He pulled her over to another series of her paintings. This series depicted simple sunsets on the beaches with different birds or other creatures that didn’t fit, like a cheetah or a huge eagle. “Your paintings have flair, and I would really love to pull them out and let you sell them.”
“They’re not Christmas.”
He gestured at another canvas, and she was stunned to see the one she’d painted recently. “That one is.”
She’d always been fascinated by the idea of a snow-white Christmas on the beach, and she’d obviously never experienced one, but she’d painted it. This was a watercolor of the beach and sand and palm trees, decorated in an old-fashioned way, with lights and shell ornaments or different sea creatures. Snowflakes fell over the beach, shimmering.
“That one would sell in a snap.” He put his hand to his chin. “I know you’re saving for the university, but Evie, you’re so good already. Do you really need to go to university?”
“That’s sweet of you, but I want to learn more. I want to be around other artists.”
He nodded. “I understand.”
There was another ding, signaling that someone had come into the shop.
“I’ll help the customer,” Mr. Temple said.
Evie nodded and she stared back at her art. She walked to the series of paintings with she and Liam. Tears burned in her eyes. She usually never cried this much, but she’d been unstable ever since seeing Liam on the beach.
Trey’s face surfaced in her memory, and the familiar revulsion slammed into her with full force. She jumped and rushed toward the bathroom in the back, reaching the toilet in