Lavender Blue: The Becquerels by Kathryn Kaleigh

Author:Kathryn Kaleigh [Kaleigh, Kathryn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-09-08T06:16:33+00:00

CHAPTER 21

GRAHAM

It had taken me ten business days to get my affairs in order. If I was going back to the past, I was going to stay there.

The only door I had left open was my job. My life’s dream had been to be a national park ranger. At Rocky Mountain National Park.

So instead of turning in my resignation, I had left a letter. By the time they came looking for me, I would be securely situated in the past.

And, I had decided, being with Bailey trumped being a park ranger. And that was saying everything.

Seeing Bailey sitting there, a princess on a lily pad, had solidified my decision. I’d made the right one.

My heart swelled at seeing her again.

The summer sun was pleasantly warm on my head and the breeze was cooling, making this a perfect summer day.

Wood smoke from the chimney mixed with the clean scent of fir and spruce trees. Chipmunks scurried about looking for food, finding scraps here and there. It seemed that feeding the animals was not just a twenty-first century problem.

What was a problem was the way Bailey pulled back, lowering her eyes.

It was a bit like being kicked in the gut.

I was too late, then.

The ten days it had taken me to prepare everything for moving to the past added on to the time it had taken me to make the decision had been too long.

I squeezed her hand. Or maybe I had misread her interest in me.

But as she looked up at me from beneath her lashes, I saw… indecision and something else.

“You came back,” she said, still holding my arms.

“I came back,” I said.

“Can you… stay?” she asked.

“Yes. I can stay.” It was almost like she knew that I was from another time.

She nodded. “I didn’t know. I—” She looked over her shoulder. “Come,” she said, tucking a hand in the crook of my elbow and tugging me with her toward the back porch. “We have to talk.”

The four words every man dreaded hearing. Those words were never good news.

“Wait,” she said. “My painting.”

I helped her gather up her canvas and paints. Carefully held the painting by the edges. I’d seen this painting before, I realized.

In the Whiskey Springs library.

“Lavender Blue Number Two,” I said.

“What?” She froze, the wind tousling her hair, her eyes bright.

“This painting,” I said.

“How could you possibly know that?” she asked, her voice barely audible, with a quick shake of her head.

“Come,” I said. “It’s part of that talk.”

We stepped inside the back door and Dakota nearly dropped the mug she was holding.

She looked from her sister to me and back again.

“He came back,” she said.

I was getting the distinct feeling that no one had expected me to come back.

And I had a distinctly sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that something had changed while I was away, taking my time making my decision about what I was going to do.

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