by Lauren Canan
“Oh, Wade. Look. It’s an old house.” To her right, set back in the trees, was a very old cabin made of logs complete with a chimney rising over the wooden roof.
“It’s an old trappers’ cabin,” Wade said. “Men would set up camp here while they hunted for fresh game in the hills. We’ve got a couple of those dotting the property here and there.”
“I want to see,” Victoria said as she scrambled off her horse.
The old door was barely on its hinges, but she pushed it open enough to see inside. It had a dirt floor and two small bed frames, along with a crumbling rock fireplace. It was rustic, to say the least.
“How old do you think this is?” she asked Wade.
“Don’t really know. It was probably built before my grandfather bought the land, so that would make it about a hundred and fifty years old.” He dismounted. “When we were kids, we used to roam all over this area. Take enough supplies to last us three or four days. One time we came upon an old homestead. There was a cottage and what was left of a picket fence, and a barn next to it. We found an old high-top shoe and a silver comb inside the house. I think Holly still has them. If you’re a history buff, you’ve come to the right place.”
Wade walked over to her and put his arm around her shoulders. She turned to face him, and he covered her lips with his own for a kiss that was entirely too brief. “I could go on doing this forever,” he said. “But we’d better head back if we want to arrive before dark.”
“Okay,” she agreed, standing on her tiptoes to give him another kiss. “I wish I had a phone. I would love to have a picture of this cabin.”
“We will have to get you a new one. Until then, you’re welcome to use mine,” he said as he handed her his cell. “No reason we can’t come back again.”
She happily snapped off a few photos before returning his phone. Wade handed her the reins of her horse. “There’s ninety-two thousand acres to roam through. Next time, we might go a different direction and find something even more to your liking.”
Victoria grinned. She didn’t know if she’d ever been horseback riding in her life. But it would definitely be a part of her future.
Ten
The next morning Wade climbed the steps to the back door of Pine House cabin. He saw Victoria through the window, sitting at the kitchen bar sipping a cup of coffee.
“Morning,” he said as he stepped in the door.
“Good morning,” she replied as he placed a large sack and its contents on the table.
“This is yours,” he said, watching her.
“For me?”
In the bag was a sketch pad, drawing pencils, a small set of oil paints and two canvases. There were also brushes and a small easel that could be set up on a tabletop.
“Oh, my gosh. I hope you didn’t waste your time and money.”
“We’ll find out,” he grinned.
“Thank you, Wade.” She ran into his arms and gave him a tight squeeze.
She grabbed the sketch pad and selected a pencil and soon was hard at the task of drawing the little cabin they’d seen yesterday. He left her to take care of some business calls.
Early in the afternoon, Wade returned to the kitchen. As soon as he walked into the room, his eyes grew wide in amazement. Sketches, beautiful sketches, covered every available surface. There were several of the old cabin, the river valley, one of a mother cow grazing while her baby enjoyed its lunch. There were close-ups of pinecones hanging from the branches of a tree, all detailed, all remarkable. Some were taped to the cabinet doors, others covered the countertop, even the stovetop and chairs. Victoria was at the kitchen table hard at work on yet another one. The detail in the drawings was amazing.
“Victoria?”
His voice seemed to bring her out of whatever trance she was in.
“Hi.” She gave him a grin.
He walked over, kissed her, then picked up a sheet of the sketch paper, frowning as he looked closely at the drawing. “How long have you been an artist?”
She sat back and looked around her. “I didn’t know I could draw.” She shrugged.
“I’m assuming it just felt right,” he said, using her own words. “We don’t have to go anywhere today. If you like, why don’t you try out the paints and do the old cabin on canvas?”
“I would love to. Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?”
“Not a bit.”
Wade was stunned by the artistry that had flowed from her hands. How had he never picked up on the fact that Victoria was an accomplished artist? This was no small thing. The drawings were professional and brilliant. He wanted to ask where she’d studied but knew she wouldn’t remember. While their time together had always been limited, how could he never have picked up on her amazing talent?
She didn’t waste any time opening the small box of colors and setting the canvas on the easel. She chose from among a dozen brushes of various sizes and shapes and got to work.
“I’m going to head over to the loafing shed and take a look at some new heifers. I’ll be back in about an hour and we’ll have lunch.”
“Okay,” she responded, already pressing some colors onto the palette. By the time he stepped outside, Victoria was already absorbed in what she was doing.
* * *
Early that evening, Wade stood just inside the back door, looking over her shoulder at the painting in progress. He whistled, low and long. “That is spectacular, Victoria. I never knew you had such talent.”
“Thank you. I can’t say if it’s good or not, but it feels good to have a brush in my hand. Are you ready for lunch?” she asked, wiping her hands on a dish towel she’d found beneath one of the cabinets.
“Lunch has come and gone, darling. It’s after seven. I came back around three, and you were really into your painting, so I just left you alone. I came back to see if you wanted dinner. You really should eat something. A starving artist isn’t necessarily a good thing.”
“Okay. You’re right. Let me clean up my mess and we can go.”
It was a short walk to where the ranch hands congregated every night around the campfire. Tonight chili was the main course. As before, Victoria got her serving and sat next to Wade on the tree stump. Tonight there were guitars, and soon music filled the air around them. It was a cool evening with a light breeze out of the south. Victoria seemed contented watching fireflies light the night. There was a full moon overhead.
“I’m so glad you brought me here. I have a feeling I haven’t felt this relaxed in a very long time. I hope... I hope it’s not the last time we come here.”
“We’ll come back, sweetheart. I promise. But we need to get back to Dallas. There is a meeting that Cole and I both need to attend next week concerning a merger we’ve both been involved in. I was notified this morning that the other parties are ready to sit down and hash this thing out. Apparently things have progressed since I was last in Japan.”
“That’s always the excuse,” a man chimed in behind them.
Wade immediately grinned and stood up as the man came into view. He was as tall as Wade and had the same muscular physique, the same stance.
“How’re you doing, bro? How was the flight in?”
“Good. I wanted to say hello and meet your bride. Holly told me you finally brought Victoria to the ranch.”
“Victoria.” Wade looked down to where she sat. “This is my younger brother, Chance. You met his wife, Holly, the day we arrived. Chance, this is Victoria.”
She immediately rose. “It’s very nice to meet you.”
“And you as well.” Chance shook her hand. “Wade treating you right?”
“So far. Can’t complain.”
“Ha! Give it time,” Chance teased. “I’m glad you brought her out to the ranch. We all thought you’d made her up.”
“Nope, she’s as real as they come.”
“Welcome to the family, Victoria. Glad to have you with us.”
“Thank you.”
Wade accompanied Chance as he made the rounds, saying hello to the ranch hands around the fire. The brothers had that certain something that made them stand out in a crowd. Both were strong, powerful men in their own right.
“I talked with Cole just a few minutes ago,” Chance told Wade. “They are on a flight back from London. He said you were here and asked me to remind you that you both have an appointment with a Mr. Takahashi on Monday.”
“I know,” Wade replied. “We’re going to have to get back to Dallas tomorrow. How did the meeting in London go?”
“Very well, according to Cole. Synecom will soon be a part of Masters International. They will merge with the pharmaceutical division by the end of the year. Loudon Deeming, the president and CEO, is reportedly excited to have his company involved with ours.”
“Excellent.”
“Oh,” Chance added. “One other thing. Cole said the date for the probate of Dad’s will has been set. Seth is expected to fly down. I’m glad he’ll be here.”
“Me, too,” Wade agreed. “He’s a good man. Seth is our half brother,” he explained to Victoria. “He lives in California.”
“Well, take care you two. Have a good trip home.” Chance looked at Victoria. “Again, it was really nice to meet you.”
“You as well.”
Bidding the ranch hands a good night, Chance disappeared into the darkness as he headed to his truck. No doubt Holly was awaiting his return.
Wade hated like hell to leave Victoria alone when he had to conduct business, especially since she still didn’t have her memory back. But at least now, with her art, she would have plenty to keep her occupied. That thought had run through his mind more than once today. And maybe it would even be therapeutic and help her heal. For the first time, Wade really hoped things could work out between them.
When they got back to Dallas, he was going to find a specialist, someone trained in memory recall. Surely there was some way to give her back her full life. It was only then that they would be able to have a full life together. After the time he’d spent in her company since the accident, he couldn’t believe he’d ever thought she could be hateful or deceitful. He didn’t have an answer as to why she had changed over the days since the accident. But he was not willing to let her go back to the way she was. Whatever he had to do to accomplish that end, he would do it.
“Are you about ready to go?” Wade asked, holding his hand out to her.
“Sure,” she replied and stood up, taking his hand.
They tossed their paper bowls and plastic silverware into the trash and headed to the log home on the hill. He put his arm around her shoulders, her arm went around his back and together they walked toward Pine House.
* * *
After a second day of horseback riding, they cooled off from the afternoon sun near a small waterfall. It was nothing like the one at his home in Dallas, but it had a beauty all its own. At the bottom of the falls was a natural pool, again about half the size of his pool in Dallas. But this one was created by the elements eons ago. They swam and splashed and laughed, then dried off on one of the big boulders adjacent to the pool.
“How about we head back and give you time to pack for our trip home and get ready for tonight?” Wade asked. “Our reservations are at seven. That means we should leave here by five or five thirty if we go in the chopper. I would highly recommend that means of travel. It’s beautiful at night.”
“Reservations?”
“Yeah. When we get back to Dallas, I thought we would stop and eat at a restaurant I know. Really great food. After we eat, I thought you might enjoy going to an art exhibit on our way home.”
“I’d love to!” She sat up, leaned over and kissed him. “You’re too good to me,” she whispered against his lips. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Woman, you’ve got that reversed.”
His lips covered hers as he rolled her over to show her just how glad he was to share this moment with her. But by later in the day, he’d grown impatient. Twenty minutes after five, he stood at the bottom of the staircase, waiting. But fifteen minutes later when Victoria finally did come down the stairs, the slight frustration of having to wait disappeared in a puff of smoke. She had changed into a black dress that softly glimmered as she walked, hugging her every curve. It came down to about six inches above her knees.
It was draped low in the back, making a perfect frame for her hair, which was pulled back, letting soft curls cascade from the crown of her head. She had added makeup, but it was so subtle it served only to enhance her delicate features. As if they needed enhancing. Her lips were a deep, sultry red. Quite honestly, he had never seen her so beautiful. He swallowed hard.
“You look ravishing,” he said in greeting. The dress, along with the combination of the heady scent of perfume and Victoria’s own erotic aroma, nearly brought him to his knees. “Where... How did you get the dress?”
“Every girl always needs that little black dress just in case.”
He kissed her neck, cupping her face and trying hard not to scoop her off her feet and carry her to the closest bedroom. Or the kitchen table. Or the sofa in the den.
“I want to take you right now,” he said against her lips before deepening the kiss. “I haven’t a clue how I’m ever going to get through this evening.”
She laughed. “We’d better go. That’s a subject for later.”
“And it will be addressed. Or undressed as the case may be.”
* * *
They ate at a restaurant located some fifty stories up. The glass-dome enclosure slowly revolved, giving them a panoramic view of the lights of downtown Dallas.
Dinner was delicious. Wade watched Victoria with a glint in his eyes. She guessed he was thinking about the end of the evening when they returned home. And a little bird told her it was going to be quite a night. He was so male, so strong, so handsome. Behind closed doors he knew how to make love like no other. She looked forward to getting home.
Dinner finished, they took the glass elevator down to street level and entered a waiting limo to head to the art exhibit. Victoria was thrilled at the prospect of seeing a gallery show for the first time since her accident. Wade picked up on her nervous energy and folded his large hand over hers. She smiled at him through the darkness, so grateful that he would take the time to do this for her.
When they got to the gallery, Wade confirmed his reservations for the evening with an attendant in the front lobby. “Good evening, Mr. Masters,” the woman said. “It’s so nice to have you both with us this evening. Take your time and enjoy. I’ll be here if you have any questions.”
“This isn’t a public showing?” Victoria asked once they were out of hearing distance. She noticed that the people in attendance were exquisitely dressed.
“Nah. We’re doing this privately. You couldn’t enjoy it nearly as much with people crowding around the paintings. Have a glass of champagne.” He took one for each of them from the tray of a passing waiter. “Go at your own speed, and look to your heart’s content. A friend of mine owns the gallery. These are paintings from various artists that have been sold but have yet to be shipped.”
Most of the paintings near the front were abstract. On the wall underneath each canvas was a typed label with the name of the piece, the date it was created and sometimes but not always the name of the artist who painted it. Victoria stood there, fascinated by the brushstrokes and colors. They slowly walked through the space, and the paintings became less abstract. There were pictures of bridges, geese flying over a tranquil lake, clouds over a green field with the rain imminent. It all stirred something deep within Victoria.
As she turned to leave, one painting in particular caught her eye. It was a snapshot view of a farm with a small white house. A storm was comin
g, the sky already dark. The lady of the house was outside with her clothes basket, trying to bring in the wash from the line, with sheets blowing in every direction and bolts of lightning in the not-too-distant background. Victoria stepped over to the painting. Again there was no artist name, just the year it was painted and the title of the painting: Storm Is Coming. She couldn’t stop her hand from reaching out to the painting, but she stopped short of touching it as she continued studying the detail. A shiver ran up her spine. She’d seen it before. She was sure of it.
“You like that one?” Wade asked from behind her.
She turned to face him. “Wade, I know this painting. I mean, I’ve seen it before.”
“Maybe the fact you remember it means your memory is coming back.”
“Oh, I hope so.”
He nodded. “The artist’s style reminds me of yours.”
She looked even more closely but only found initials in the lower right-hand corner of the canvas: L.D.
“Can we find out who the artist is?” she asked Wade.
“Let me make an inquiry. I’ll be right back.”
Victoria wandered on through the gallery, taking in the statues and other creations of art. By the time Wade returned, Victoria was in heaven yet a bit unsettled by the whole experience. All this beauty had her in its grip. The amount of talent represented here was overwhelming. And the style of the paintings was somehow familiar.
“The painting you asked about is by a relatively new artist. Laurel Dawson. She lives outside the Dallas metroplex to the south. This painting has been sold, but they have our name should she return with any more paintings.”
She couldn’t thank Wade enough.
Once back at the helipad, they quickly boarded the chopper and began the ride home. The helicopter took a slow path around Dallas. Wade had been right. The lights were amazing. He leaned over and took her in his arms.