“You look like hell, son. Are you all right?” He quirked a bushy, gray eyebrow and took a bite of the cupcake he’d removed from the cardboard box. His stare was fixed on him as he munched, and Caleb pondered how much he wanted to share. They’d never talked about his love life, but he had nobody to share the burden with. He couldn’t very well go and open his heart to Conor Callaghan, who was probably only waiting for an excuse to punch him again for hurting his sister. So he pulled up the plastic chair by the small, wooden table in the corner of the room, and sat opposite his father.
“A girl I really liked broke my heart.” There, he’d said it. It felt rather good to let it all out. His father kept munching on the cupcake, so Caleb leaned against the back of the chair and stretched his legs in front of him. “She used to live here, and I had a massive crush on her in high school, although she never knew. We bumped into each other a couple of weeks ago, when she came back into town for her parents’ anniversary, and we just…clicked. I thought she liked me as much as I liked her, but it turned out she was only interested in me because…” He trailed off, not sure he wanted to tell his father about the paintings. He hated when Caleb mentioned anything related to art.
“Because?” his father prompted, before popping the last piece of the cupcake into his mouth.
Caleb took a deep breath. “Because she wanted to show my paintings in the art gallery in New York, where she works, to land a promotion her boss had promised.”
Franklin stopped chewing and his face wrinkled in a frown. Caleb braced himself for the outburst he was sure was going to happen. Instead, his father placed the box with the cupcakes on the nightstand and brushed his hands on his pants, let out a sigh, and looked up at him with glistening eyes.
“I’m sorry, son. I know how much heartbreaks hurt.” He reached for Caleb’s hand and squeezed it. Caleb couldn’t remember how long it had been since his father had held his hand or comforted him in any way. He hadn’t even offered a hug after Felicia left and forbade him from ever shedding a tear for her. “It’s time I apologized for what I did to you, for forbidding you to paint. At the time it hurt too much, you know, seeing those canvases and brushes, and remembering your mother painting with you…” He sniffed, and a tear spilled over. Caleb had never seen his father cry, and looking at him now, so vulnerable and weak, broke down his defenses.
“Dad, it’s okay.” He squeezed his hand and forced a smile, although his throat felt tight. “I understand why you did it.” He did now; he didn’t back then, when painting was the only link to his mother he had left.
“It’s not okay. You were talented, just like your mother, and I was scared you’d end up leaving to chase after her same dream of glory.” He hung his head and shook it, wiping his cheek with the back of his hand. “I’m glad you’re still painting and you didn’t listen to me. The world needs to appreciate your talent, and you should consider showing your pieces at the gallery in town. Or maybe you should have let that girl show them at her gallery in the city. You’d make a name for yourself, and you’d finally be free of this stupid town and the gossip.”
Caleb had a hard time believing his own ears. Not only had his father apologized for his behavior, but he was also encouraging him to follow his dream.
“Don’t look at me like that,” his father said with a lopsided smile that resembled Caleb’s. “I’m slowly fading away. I don’t know if it’ll be my mind or my liver failing me first, and I realized it’s time I put things straight. I can’t change the past, but I won’t ruin your future. Our family name did enough damage to your childhood, and I only made it worse. Now it’s time for me to make amends, while I still remember who you are.”
A warm tear rolled down Caleb’s cheek before he even realized his vision had blurred. His father reached out his hand and wiped it away. Caleb’s heart thumped wildly in his chest, making it hard for him to breathe. He felt like he was that young kid who’d just seen his mother walk away, and only wanted to cry all his tears.
“Leave this place and start anew, away from here. You’ve put your life on hold because of me, but it’s time you took it back. Find a good woman and build your own family. If that girl was the right one for you, go after her, wherever she is, and win her heart.” He patted Caleb’s thigh and smiled. “I need to know you won’t be alone and miserable for the rest of your life, or end up like me. You’ve got talent and a big heart; you deserve to be happy, son. Promise meyou will.”
Caleb nodded, still a little dumbfounded by the conversation. He couldn’t remember the last time his father had said so many words in one day. Some kind of weight lifted off his chest upon hearing his dad’s words, and he smiled back. Then he reached for him and pulled him into a hug, that his father returned immediately. It was a foreign sensation but it warmed his heart. Within a few minutes his father had apologized and set him free, even though Caleb wasn’t sure he wanted to leave Fortune’s Bay now. From the way Franklin was talking, Caleb had a feeling the old man knew something about his health he wasn’t sharing, and Caleb made a mental note to speak to the doctor on his way out.
He closed his eyes and thought of his dad’s words. Was Kyla the right woman for him? The stupid curse that had instilled a fear of rejection in him since he was little, had made him push away the one person who’d seemed genuinely interested in him. Yes, she’d wanted his paintings to get the promotion, but at least she’d thought his art was good enough to be exhibited in a prestigious city gallery—and that was more than anyone else had ever done for him. A small part of him still wanted to believe that she hadn’t hung around only because she believed in his talent. He’d perceived some kind of stronger feeling coming from her. What, he wasn’t sure, but he had to find out.
He reveled in the warmth of his father’s embrace a bit longer, feeling like the young kid who’d wished for his dad to comfort him after his mom left. He didn’t know if they’d ever have another proper conversation the next time he’d come over to visit, nor if his father would remember his words. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever have the guts to follow his father’s suggestion and share his paintings, nor if he’d leave the town and his old life behind. Of one thing he was sure, though: he was going after Kyla.
Dear Caleb, I’m sorry for how things ended. I came to talk to you in person, hoping you’d let me explain, but you weren’t there—or didn’t want to see me. So I wrote this note before leaving for the airport because I couldn’t think of going back to New York without asking for forgiveness first. Yes, I lied to you about the reason for my prolonged stay, but I never lied about my feelings for you. You said I was the first girl you fell in love with. You were my first love too—back then and ten years later. The first time we kissed, I felt like I’d never known what a kiss was. The first time you hugged me, I felt like I’d never been hugged the right way. And when you walked away from me, I realized what heartbreak felt like. I know now, if I ever had a doubt about it, that I was still in love with you, just like I was back in high school. Only, in a more mature, more certain way. Nobody ever made me feel like you do—and I’m sure nobody ever will.
I’m sorry I was too focused on my job to understand why you didn’t want your paintings to be seen by other people. You’re a talented artist, and the reason why your paintings are so special is because you pour your heart onto the canvas. Looking at your paintings is like getting a glimpse into your soul, and I feel honored you shared them with me. Knowing you like I do now, I understand why you don’t want to share this private part of your life with strangers and I respect that. I wish I could have seen you before I left, that I could have kissed you and lost myself in your embrace one last time, just to have some fresh memories to hold on to when I’m in New York.
I hope one day you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me and maybe, if I ever come back to Fortune’s Bay, that we’ll at least be friends.
I wish you all the best.
Yours, forever.
Kyla.
Caleb crumpled the she
et of paper and his heart followed suit. After he’d come home from the nursing home, he’d found Bear pawing at something on the kitchen floor, and when he’d picked it up and realized it was from Kyla, he’d been tempted to trash it. He’d told himself he wouldn’t forgive her for lying to him, for using him to get that promotion, but deep down in his heart he’d known all along that she wasn’t lying about her feelings. He’d felt it in her kisses and her hugs, seen it in her genuine smiles. She cared about him like nobody else had. He’d felt more love in the two weeks they’d been seeing each other than he had with either of his girlfriends in college. She was the girl who’d owned his heart for ten years, and he had a feeling she was going to own it for the rest of his life, whether they would end up together or not. He would never forget her.
He stood up from the garden chair and went into his office, switched on his computer, and logged onto an airline website. He needed to see her, to tell her how much she meant to him, how much he cared—no, how much he loved her. Because he knew now for sure that what he felt for her was love. It wasn’t a teenager’s crush anymore, and it wasn’t simple physical attraction. For once in his life, he decided to believe the town’s legend and concede that Destiny had played her magic on him and Kyla because they were soul mates. He had no intention of getting on a ghost’s bad side by going against her wishes.
He was going to win Kyla’s heart once and for all, if he had to crawl all the way to New York.
Chapter 9
It was official: her life was going down the drain. First she’d lost the only guy she’d ever loved—yes, she loved him with a capital L, starry eyes, and all that—then she’d returned to work only to receive the news that the gallery was in a worse situation than she’d thought. Since she hadn’t been able to secure the contract which would have helped them raise money and keep the owners happy, she was an expense they couldn’t afford. Two days after she’d returned to New York, she was pretty much ready to book a flight back to Fortune’s Bay and go home with her tail between her legs. She could look for another job and hope she’d find one soon, but she didn’t think she’d be able to afford rent and ordinary expenses in New York without a job. She’d never managed to put some money aside for a rainy day and now she wished she had—or that she’d picked a less expensive destination when she left her small hometown behind.
With her head hanging down and a small cardboard box containing her few possessions, she walked toward her Brooklyn apartment, but stopped short when she reached the end of the stairs that led to the entrance and her eyes landed on a pair of sneakers. Then they moved up to take in a pair of long, denim-clad legs, a broad chest, and a handsome face that had starred in her dreams every night since she left Florida.
“Caleb.” His name came out in a strangled tone with an underlying note of pure shock. “What are you doing here?”
“I found your letter.” He stood up and tucked his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, chewing on the corner of his bottom lip. “I’m sorry I didn’t want to listen to you. I thought you’d been playing with my feelings, that you were using my crush on you only to get that promotion.”
“I wasn’t—”
“I know now,” he said, taking a step toward her. “But it hurt too much thinking you’d been lying all along while I was opening my heart to you. I’ve had time to think about it, though, and I know I don’t want to lose you. I’ll sign whatever contract you need me to. You can tell your boss he can start organizing the exhibit. I’m ready to share my art with the world and help you get that promotion.”
Her spirits, that had been soaring like doves up in the sky only a moment before, plummeted to the ground as if someone had just shot them to death.
“I no longer work there.” As if to prove her statement, she lifted the box in front of his face. “Today was my last. The gallery is in financial trouble and will probably close down or so they told me.”
“Damn, Kyla, I’m so sorry. It’s my fault. If I hadn’t been such an idiot—”
“I think Rodney was only waiting for an excuse to get rid of me.” She shrugged. She’d thought about it on the way home, and when she put together all the pieces, she eventually saw the whole picture: Rodney had intentionally given her an almost impossible task before she left, knowing she would never manage to find a new, interesting artist in New York, let alone while she was in Fortune’s Bay. The fact she’d bumped into Caleb and discovered his paintings had been a bit of a fluke Rodney probably hadn’t expected, but he’d taken full advantage of it all the same. When she hadn’t been able to secure the deal, he’d used the opportunity to do what he’d already planned to do before she’d left New York. “If it wasn’t that this city is so expensive, I would stick around for a while and look for another job. I just don’t have enough savings.”
“Then come back to Fortune’s Bay. You could work at the gallery, like you did in high school. And we could be together.” He smiled. “Bear wouldn’t like living in a city apartment and I don’t like long-distance.”
Kyla hung her head and shook it. “Mr. Cantwell is closing it. The gallery isn’t attracting residents or tourists like it used to. He told me he got an offer from a fastfood chain.”
“Then I’ll buy it for you.”
Kyla’s head whipped up so fast she felt dizzy for a moment. His smile was huge.
“Maybe using the money for a good cause will break the curse.” He winked.
“That wasn’t funny,” she said in a sour tone when she realized he’d been joking.
His face turned serious. “I wasn’t kidding. I meant what I said. I’ll buy the gallery so you can run it. I’m sure you’d know how to turn things around and make it successful again. I’d even let you display my paintings. I bet just the curiosity of seeing the hermit’s art would bring lots of people into the gallery.” He reached out his hand and placed his palm on her cheek. She leaned into his touch, soft and loving, warm and gentle—just like him. She didn’t think it would be possible to love him more than she already did, but the ultimate romantic gesture had just proved her wrong.
“Please, come home with me. I don’t want to be away from you. I know I’m not as cool as New York life is, but we can visit whenever you want.” He leaned closer, his face only inches from hers. Her heart thumped in her chest. She’d missed his lips so much, she couldn’t wait to feel them on hers again. “I love you, Kyla.”
Her heart skipped a beat, then two—and three. Was she having a heart attack? Her arms squeezed around the box and she was having a hard time breathing.
He loved her.
She dropped the box to the ground and threw her arms around his neck, closing the distance between them. “I love you too.”
His lips met hers halfway and the world around them disappeared. Like the sun peeking out from behind the clouds on an overcast day, warming everything its rays shone on, his kiss warmed her from the inside out, a glow that filled her heart with sheer joy and her body with tingles. If she believed in legends and magic, she’d think Destiny was behind Kyla’s layoff so that she’d be forced to go home and get her happy ending with Caleb.
A wolf whistle from the other side of the road broke the moment. Caleb pulled away and chuckled. “I thought being in a city meant you were invisible.”
“Apparently it doesn’t.” She bent and picked up the box. “Let’s get inside and forget about the rest of the world.”
He grinned. “Lead the way.”
Epilogue
Two months later
“We’ve nearly sold them all!”
Kyla encircled Caleb’s waist from behind, nearly piercing his eardrum with her squeals. Her enthusiasm for the event had rubbed off on him eventually, and he was starting to feel a little more at ease being around the town’s residents—though not so much being the center of attention.
He spun around in her arms and smiled at her. “How much free wine have you been drinking?”
She threw her head back and laughed—and he wa
nted to capture that laugh with his lips and forget about the crowd all around them.
Although he’d predicted most of the residents would show up at the gallery reopening out of curiosity, he hadn’t thought they would actually approach him and be nice to him. Considering the way they’d been treating him all of his life, he hadn’t expected his art to be the turning point, the thing that would make them see there was a real person with real feelings behind the legend and the gossip.
He’d been nervous to share his art with someone other than Kyla, but he knew it would be the only way to attract a higher number of visitors and make sure the gallery got the attention it deserved. He hadn’t expected to sell more than a couple of his paintings, if any at all—but to hear most of them had already been purchased was making him almost dizzy with excitement.
“I told you the world would love them,” Kyla said, squeezing her arms a bit tighter. “I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done, not just for me and the gallery, but for the town, and the nursing home. I think that’s what made people realize you’re not a pirates’ heir or a heartless hermit.”
He put a hand on the small of her back and pulled her close to him. From the moment he’d decided to be the main star of the opening event and let Kyla sell some of his paintings, as well as to create new ones especially for this day, he’d told her he wouldn’t want a commission on the sales. Most of the money she’d make would go toward funding the gallery and making sure it would be in the black for a while, at least until word of mouth brought in more clients and reached the ears of local art connoisseurs, and those farther out. The percentage that should be paid to him would be donated to the nursing home where his father was. The money never seemed to be quite enough to give patients all they needed, and Caleb knew how important it was that the people at the nursing home felt at home. He and Kyla had offered to volunteer there a few hours a week, and he’d been hoping that the revenues from the event would make it possible to build that recreational room he knew would make the patients’ stays more comfortable and happier.
A Brush With Love In Fortune's Bay: A Fortune's Bay Novella Page 9