by Naomi Niles
Chapter Nineteen
Bethany
I had never felt so furious as I stormed from the dining room table, up the stairs, and into my room. Colton had been ignoring me all week, and then to find out in the middle of dinner that he had cancelled our evening walk together without even having the courtesy of telling me was more than I could take.
I knew I was acting impulsively when I made the spontaneous announcement that I would be leaving in the morning even though I still had one more painting to create, but the words just erupted out of my mouth before I could stop them. There was no taking them back now.
I had expected Colton to say something. Surely my jarring news would make him realize that he had been taking me for granted and shock him into giving me the attention I deserved. I didn't need him to pay attention twenty-four hours a day like some spoiled princess, but surely five minutes of his time wasn't too much to ask, and lately, he hadn't been willing to even give me that.
When I made my sudden announcement, everyone had looked dismayed. Margie's eyes welled up with tears, Brett's jaw hit the floor, and Travis went white as a sheet. William and Tom both looked dumbfounded, but the one person whose reaction I cared about the most just sat there like nothing had happened.
From the casual look on Colton's face, I might as well have said nothing at all. He didn't have a word to say to me. He didn't even blink. So, I ran from the room before he could see just how heartbroken I was by his new and sudden lack of interest in me.
With my door locked soundly, I picked up my cell phone and dialed the only number I had memorized by heart.
"Mom, I'm coming home."
"Bethany? What's wrong? You sound upset." Jillian sounded cross.
"Nothing. I'm just ready to come home. I'll leave tomorrow, and I'll drive straight through until I get there."
"You finished the job? That's faster than you thought it would take." She sounded surprised.
"Not quite. I have one last painting to complete, but I thought I would do it at home and just ship it here."
"That's going to eat up too much of your pay. Why don't you just finish it there and come home afterwards? That way you can keep all your pay."
"Not everything is about money," I sighed with exasperation, but Mother wasn't buying it.
"That's something only rich people say, and we ain't rich. What's really going on? Why are you leaving before the job is done?"
I knew I couldn't lie to her anymore. Taking a deep breath, I confessed the truth. I told her everything about falling in love with Colton, skinny dipping in the lake, and making love in the barn. Then, how he suddenly lost interest in me and completely ignored me.
"I feel so used, Mom. Why would he tell me he loves me and then turn so cold?"
"Men are fickle creatures," she sighed. "The only thing you can count on with men is they'll say anything for a piece of ass. Chances are this Colton guy saw an easy way to get some free sex out of you. After all, you were right there on the ranch, he didn't have to go out of his way looking for you. Hell, he didn't even have to take you out on a date first."
"He did once." I felt obligated to defend him, but it sounded weak even to my own ears.
Jillian pounced with her usual cynicism. "Well, I take it back. He's a true gentleman."
"There's no need to be sarcastic," I said.
"There's no need to get soft, either. This jerk is just using you for sex, the way they all do. Now that he knows he's about to lose you, don't be surprised if he tries to trick you into staying."
"I told you, Mom, he didn't say a word when I made the announcement. It was like he didn't care, at all."
"Give him a minute to let the news sink in. Men are slow thinkers sometimes, but once they realize how something is going to negatively affect them, then their minds go into overdrive. I bet you he's concocting some elaborate plan right now to suck you back into his little web of deceit and trick into staying longer so he can keep using you."
"I don't think Colton is like that. He's really down to earth." I was still defending him.
"Just wait. The next time you see him, he'll have come up with some underhanded reason why you can't go home, but don't fall for it. Men are nothing but selfish liars who will do anything to get their way."
Jillian had been preaching this negative paranoia at me for as long as I could remember. All my life, I'd rebelled against it and insisted in believing in the good in people. It's what drove me to seek out my father, and that had turned out to be wonderful. It's what inspired me to have an open heart and allowed me to fall in love with Colton in the first place.
When he'd turned a cold shoulder to me and ignored my pleas to talk with him, it had sparked the old fires of distrust my mother had tried to instill in me for years. I allowed myself to jump to conclusions. Now, hearing my mother spout her negative dogma aloud, I began to wonder if I had acted too hastily. Perhaps I should give Colton a chance to talk to me.
Suddenly, I heard loud shouts coming from downstairs and noticed for the first time that there was a smell of smoke in the air.
Rushing to my bedroom window, I looked out to see the barn was engulfed in flames, and Colton was standing dangerously close to it. My paintings were still inside, but it was obvious from the size of the flames that there was no saving them.
Worst of all was seeing Colton standing in front of fire. It was him. He had set the barn on fire and destroyed all I had done. I'd put my heart into those paintings and now it was breaking. An entire month's work was completely destroyed, and so were my feelings for him.
Chapter Twenty
Colton
"Fire!" I shouted out as loudly as I could, running towards the ranch house. "Hurry! Fire!"
Adrenaline was pumping through my body, battling against my drunken state and giving me the focus to move. Mama had a garden hose wound around a hook on the side of house for watering her plants. I turned the faucet on full and started unwinding the hose as fast as my hands would go.
"What the hell is all the noise out here?" William stepped out onto the porch. Seeing me tangled in the garden hose, he asked angrily, "Are you drunk?"
"The barn's on fire. Get Travis out here, and tell me Mama to call 911," I called out.
"Crap!" He ran back into the house, leaving the front door wide open, and I could hear shouting inside. I managed to untangle the garden hose and ran with it to the barn. The roof was ablaze with flames. I pointed the nozzle at it and turned the spray of water full stream of the fire. It was as useless as spitting on it.
My brother Travis came running from the house and took the hose from me. He was a trained firefighter and had been working for the Riverbend volunteer fire department since he was eighteen. I trusted his eight years of experience and let him have it. The flames from the fire were blistering hot and the wave of heat was making my skin hurt and my eyes burn.
"Get back," Travis shouted, and I gladly obliged. "The barn is gone. There's no saving it, but the fire could spread to other structures. Use the hose to wet down the stable and your office."
He thrust the hose at me. I took it with trembling hands, drenching the walls of the stable as best I could while sparks from the burning barn rained down around me.
William, Tom, and Brett were working together as a team to lead the terrified horses out of the stable. Their whinnies sounded liked screams, and it took all of my brothers’ strength to keep the strong animals from bolting out of their grip and running wild with fear.
Mama came out onto the porch and shouted over the noise. "I've called the fire department. They're on their way."
It felt like forever before we heard the sound of engine alarms blaring from the highway. Tears of relief sprang to my red eyes as three fir
e trucks, two tenders, and an ambulance pulled in front of the house with their lights flashing. It was the most beautiful sight I'd ever seen.
Travis had been doing his best to clear away debris from around the stable to keep the fire from spreading, but when he saw his comrades, he dropped his axe and ran to greet them.
I'd never seen my little brother in action and my heart swelled with pride as I watched him work with the crew to battle the fire. They hooked up hoses to the tender trucks and aimed them at the burning barn, now completely engulfed in searing flames.
No longer needed, I staggered back from the scene to collaps on the steps of the porch. I'd done what I could, and the rest was up to them.
"Are you all right?" A medic from the ambulance came up to me.
"I'm okay. It's just so hot, I felt a little faint for a moment," I confessed.
"You've got burns on your face and hands from standing too close to the fire. Let me treat you." He put some ointment on my skin and covered it with a bandage and then handed me a bottle of water.
"Keep hydrated, and you'll be okay," he said and walked off.
The fire was almost completely out now, but Travis and the other firefighters still had several hours’ worth of work to do to make sure it didn't reignite. My brothers were all out taking care of the horses, and probably would be for the rest of the night. Mama was in the house, no doubt talking on the phone.
I was all alone on the porch as Bethany walked slowly towards me. Her face was ravaged by emotion, making her even more beautiful. It tugged at my heart to know that she was so worried about me. I stood up to greet her, ready to welcome her into my arms. No doubt she wanted to kiss me for heroically attempting to put out the barn fire.
I was completely unprepared for the sharp pain as she slapped me across the face with brutal force.
"You bastard. How the hell could you do that?" she cried out angrily.
"What are you talking about?" I rubbed my stinging cheek. For someone so petite, she was surprisingly strong.
"You burned down the barn and destroyed all my paintings. Four weeks’ worth of hard work, completely gone. I put my heart and soul into making those paintings come to life, and with one act, you destroyed them all."
"Why would I do that?" I was dumbfounded by her accusation. The anger she felt radiated from her body.
"To keep me from leaving," she shot back at me. I could feel the hatred she felt for me like a punch to the gut.
"Yes, I want you to stay, but why would I burn down my own barn just to keep you here?"
"My mother was right: men will do anything to get what they want. You weren't willing to put in the time to give me the attention I deserved and thought I would just stay and let you use me whenever you wanted.
“When you found out that wasn't true and I was leaving, you had to find an easy way to make me stay so you could keep having your fun. You thought that by destroying my work, I would have to stay to repaint them, but your dirty trick won't work. I'm leaving tomorrow, and there is nothing you can say or do to get me to stay."
Chapter Twenty-One
Bethany
"Thanks for everything." My voice caught in my throat as I hugged Margie Hutchinson goodbye. When we separated, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the small handful of cash I had tried to secretly place there.
"What's this for?" she gawked at the bills.
"It's the money you paid me for the first half of the job. I can't accept it."
"Don't be ridiculous." She thrust the cash back at me. "You did the work. It's not your fault the paintings burned in the fire."
"But you didn't get the product that you paid for. It's not right for me to keep the money."
"Listen to me." She put the cash in my hands and gently closed my fingers into in a fist. She clasped her hands over mine and spoke firmly but lovingly. "I didn't purchase a product, I paid for a service. I paid for you to make five paintings here on the ranch. I was paying for your time and effort. It doesn't matter what happened to the pictures after you were done."
"Thank you, Margie." I hugged her tight, and she wrapped her arms around me tightly, like a mother should. When we were done, I shoved the money into my pocket, and she handed me a tissue to dab my eyes and wipe my nose.
Then I smiled at her and said, "I still feel bad that you didn't end up with anything for your money."
"I don't. Where would I have put five paintings? My walls are already full with commemorative plates, lucky horseshoes, and stuffed animal heads from the boys hunting trips. I just have room for one painting, and as luck would have it, that's what you still owe me."
"I'm going home today. That's what I told everybody I would do, and my mother is expecting me this evening. I'll make the final painting from Chicago and ship it to you here."
"Oh, horse crap. Just finish it here. You've got real life views to inspire you, and it will be so much better than if you try to paint the country from inside the city based just on memory."
"But Mom is expecting me."
"Oh, come on. You don't even have to do a painting, just one of your sketches. Draw one up will quick, and you can still leave by noon. You'll be home in plenty of time, and I'll be satisfied that you did the job I hired you to do."
"I guess that could work." I hesitated. "And, I do want my first client to be satisfied, but..."
"But what?" Margie glowered.
"I had such an ugly fight with Colton last night. I wanted to leave without having to run into him again."
"Don't worry about Colton. I'll take care of him," she assured me. The twinkle in her eye should have warned me that she was up to something, but I chose to ignore it and blindly put my trust in her.
"Okay. I'll make one last drawing," I agreed, and Margie clasped her hands together with glee.
I grabbed my sketch pad, a couple of charcoal pencils, my lighter, and a pocket knife for sharpening the pencils and shoved them all in a bag. I added a bottle of water and a snack bag of cookies, and I was ready to go.
Colton and Travis were busy working around the ash heap that used to be the barn, and I circled wide around them to avoid contact. I ended up at the equipment shed were all the horses had been moved to in the middle of the night and backed right into Brett.
"I knew you couldn't keep your hands off me," the brash young man teased.
"Sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going," I stumbled, trying to regain my composure.
"What are you doing out here? I thought you were leaving," he said, but then a thought occurred to him and he said sadly, "Or did you come to say goodbye."
"Not quite yet. I still have one last picture to make, and I promised your mother I would sketch it for her before I left. So, I just came out here trying to get some inspiration on what to draw."
"Well, that should be easy. Every place you turn your head you'll see something beautiful out here," he said wistfully, and I could tell he truly loved his home.
"I know, but I wanted each piece I made to be unique to each of your brothers. For you, I made the ranch house as it looks when you're coming home from the pasture. For Tom, I painted your mother's garden. Travis, it was the forest trees bordering the pasture, and William, it was the bull looking out over the herd."
"Sounds like the only one you have left is for Colton," Brett observed. I was glad he had said it, because I was avoiding saying his name.
"Yeah." I nodded.
"Well, that's easy. Let Whiskey take you wherever she wants to go. Nobody knows Colton better than that horse, except maybe for you. She'll take you to the perfect place to draw for my big brother."
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"All your brothers are bigger than you," I laughed good naturedly.
"Yeah, but somehow Colton always feels like the biggest. He's not taller, or smarter, or faster, but he's the oldest and the most like our dad had been. I guess that's because he got to spend the most time with him. When I talk about my big brother, I always mean Colton."
I could see why Brett would feel that way, but I didn't like dwelling on Colton. The fractures of my broken heart were too painful. All I wanted to do was get this sketch done so I could get the hell away from this ranch and all the sentiments that came with it. Taking Brett's advice and riding Whiskey seemed like the fastest way to make that happen.
"Thanks," I said. Brett helped me saddle the horse and climb onto her back. The even-tempered quarter horse sensed my lack of riding skills and took it easy on me. She walked slowly around the grounds and then worked her way up to a gentle trot. She found the familiar path into the forest that Colton had taken me on and followed it along the river until we came to the apple tree where Colton and I had spent a romantic afternoon.
"It's perfect." I smiled at the horse, grateful that she had known the ideal place to personify Colton.
I let Whiskey graze on the wild grass while I sat on a nearby log and sketched the scene. Summer was at its peak and the branches of the old apple tree were heavy with ripe fruit. Birds perched among the leaves, singing happy songs with their bellies full, while the breeze blew gently through the air.
My pencil sketched the outline of the quarter horse's brown head. Her large, round eyes were like a mirror to her soul, framed by the wispy strands of her mane. I drew the lines of her round muscles and slender legs as she bent her head to eat the grass, ending with her long tail flicking lightly around her. The wisps of grass flitted up around her hooves, with delicate flowers peeking up here and there.
My pencil filled in shadows around the beautiful animal standing beneath the magnificent tree, and I had to pause and smile. It was a wonderful picture, perfect in every way, and I felt immense pride in my work.