happen when he’d finished his one-year commitment to the FDNY? Would he come home to Bloomington? And if so, would they pick up where they’d left off before September 11? Or had his feelings for her cooled?
And what about her paintings?
Landon had moved on with his life, but here she was, still hiding at Sunset Hills Adult Care Home. Meanwhile her house was practically bursting at the seams with artwork, pieces never seen by anyone but her and little Cole.
The fog of unsettling thoughts stayed thick around Ashley’s heart long after she finished her shift and picked up Cole from her parents’ house. Questions assaulted her the entire drive back to her own home.
Why was she different? Everyone else had a plan, a purpose. Brooke and Peter had their family and their medical practices; Erin and Sam were moving to Texas in the summer, and Erin already had a teaching job lined up; Kari had her modeling and Ryan his football coaching, and together they had sweet baby Jessie and a future so bright it was sometimes painful to look at.
Luke…well, he was the exception.
But all of her sisters had found that next phase in life and moved into it without looking back. So what about her? She’d come halfway, hadn’t she? Gotten over Paris and found a faith she’d run from most of her life. She’d even figured out how to be a mother to the wonderful child who was her son. But deep within her a knowing existed—one that she’d been running from ever since she boarded the plane at the Paris airport. For three years she’d run from it, denied it, pretended it was only a hobby. But nothing made her desire go away.
She still needed to paint the same way she needed to breathe. Desperately, undeniably.
Up-and-coming artists were often featured on-line, and Ashley checked their Web sites to see what was being heralded as the next great body of work. She always left those moments with the same conviction: Her work was right there, as good as theirs. The colors subtle, striking; the subjects bathed in a kind of passion and emotion and light that sometimes took her own breath away.
So what was she afraid of?
And why hadn’t Landon called more?
“Okay, baby, we’re here. Get your backpack.” She parked the car in the garage and helped Cole into the house. He sat on a barstool opposite her while she prepared to make scrambled eggs and toast for dinner. His little-boy conversation was the first thing that had cleared her mind all day.
“I did a good thing at Grandma’s. Know what?”
“You picked up your toys?”
Cole giggled, and the sound settled Ashley’s nerves. “No, Mommy, I haffa do that every day.”
“Okay, then.” Ashley set her whisk down and anchored her elbows on the counter between them. “What good thing did you do?”
“I prayed for my friend Landon.”
Ashley felt her heart catch and stumble. “That was a good thing, Cole.” She straightened and worked the whisk into the bowl of eggs.
“He told me to pray for him, remember, Mommy?” Cole flopped his forearms onto the counter and cocked his head at her. “So today I prayed lots and lots.”
Ashley dumped the eggs into the heated frying pan on the stove. “Okay, Coley, I have a question for you.” She looked at her son. “What made you think about praying for him today?”
“I saw the picture you made of me and him ’cuz it was in the living room and that’s where I left my backpack.”
“And the painting made you think of him?”
“No, Mommy, ’course not.” Cole’s giggle was pure delight. “I think about him all the time, ’cuz he’s my bestest friend.”
“He is, huh?” Ashley hated the way her heart got fidgety whenever she heard Landon’s name, whenever she thought of the relationship he shared with her son. What if he didn’t come back? What if she and Cole weren’t part of his long-term plans? It was wrong to let her son fantasize about Landon this way. But nothing short of God could make her stop
And what about her paintings?
Landon had moved on with his life, but here she was, still hiding at Sunset Hills Adult Care Home. Meanwhile her house was practically bursting at the seams with artwork, pieces never seen by anyone but her and little Cole.
The fog of unsettling thoughts stayed thick around Ashley’s heart long after she finished her shift and picked up Cole from her parents’ house. Questions assaulted her the entire drive back to her own home.
Why was she different? Everyone else had a plan, a purpose. Brooke and Peter had their family and their medical practices; Erin and Sam were moving to Texas in the summer, and Erin already had a teaching job lined up; Kari had her modeling and Ryan his football coaching, and together they had sweet baby Jessie and a future so bright it was sometimes painful to look at.
Luke…well, he was the exception.
But all of her sisters had found that next phase in life and moved into it without looking back. So what about her? She’d come halfway, hadn’t she? Gotten over Paris and found a faith she’d run from most of her life. She’d even figured out how to be a mother to the wonderful child who was her son. But deep within her a knowing existed—one that she’d been running from ever since she boarded the plane at the Paris airport. For three years she’d run from it, denied it, pretended it was only a hobby. But nothing made her desire go away.
She still needed to paint the same way she needed to breathe. Desperately, undeniably.
Up-and-coming artists were often featured on-line, and Ashley checked their Web sites to see what was being heralded as the next great body of work. She always left those moments with the same conviction: Her work was right there, as good as theirs. The colors subtle, striking; the subjects bathed in a kind of passion and emotion and light that sometimes took her own breath away.
So what was she afraid of?
And why hadn’t Landon called more?
“Okay, baby, we’re here. Get your backpack.” She parked the car in the garage and helped Cole into the house. He sat on a barstool opposite her while she prepared to make scrambled eggs and toast for dinner. His little-boy conversation was the first thing that had cleared her mind all day.
“I did a good thing at Grandma’s. Know what?”
“You picked up your toys?”
Cole giggled, and the sound settled Ashley’s nerves. “No, Mommy, I haffa do that every day.”
“Okay, then.” Ashley set her whisk down and anchored her elbows on the counter between them. “What good thing did you do?”
“I prayed for my friend Landon.”
Ashley felt her heart catch and stumble. “That was a good thing, Cole.” She straightened and worked the whisk into the bowl of eggs.
“He told me to pray for him, remember, Mommy?” Cole flopped his forearms onto the counter and cocked his head at her. “So today I prayed lots and lots.”
Ashley dumped the eggs into the heated frying pan on the stove. “Okay, Coley, I have a question for you.” She looked at her son. “What made you think about praying for him today?”
“I saw the picture you made of me and him ’cuz it was in the living room and that’s where I left my backpack.”
“And the painting made you think of him?”
“No, Mommy, ’course not.” Cole’s giggle was pure delight. “I think about him all the time, ’cuz he’s my bestest friend.”
“He is, huh?” Ashley hated the way her heart got fidgety whenever she heard Landon’s name, whenever she thought of the relationship he shared with her son. What if he didn’t come back? What if she and Cole weren’t part of his long-term plans? It was wrong to let her son fantasize about Landon this way. But nothing short of God could make her stop
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