Red Dust Dreaming by Eva Scott

Author:Eva Scott
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin Enterprises, Australia Pty Ltd
Published: 2015-01-22T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

“Good morning sleepy head.” Elizabeth stepped blinking into the kitchen where Richard sat nursing a cup of coffee. “Want one of these?” He raised his cup.

“Yes please,” she said sliding into a chair at the table. “Where is everyone?” She yawned and rubbed her eyes.

“Long gone. It’s nearly noon Sleeping Beauty.” Richard laughed as he placed a mug of coffee in front of her.

“Thank you.” She took a sip revelling in the hot liquid as it slipped down her throat. “Caden?”

“Flew back this morning with Luke. Before you ask he was fine about you staying on for a couple of days. He said to call Kirrkalan when you’re ready to return.” She sunk back in her chair with relief. The expectation Caden would be annoyed or upset with her gnawed on her nerves. Along with Angela’s will, rereading her letter a dozen times, and having one-sided conversations with her. Add into the mix imagining Luke growing up in the Outback versus growing up in New York. Not to forget replaying Caden’s kiss a million times.

“So you know absolutely nothing about Aboriginal art?” Richard’s keen blue eyes sparked with enthusiasm and she recognised another art lover.

“Absolutely nothing,” she grinned. “I’m guessing you know quite a lot.”

“Which is why I am here.” He spread his hands wide. “Wouldn’t be anywhere else. Wait until you see the work. It’s magnificent! Do you paint?”

Elizabeth sighed and placed her mug on the table. “Long story,” she said.

“I like long stories and it just so happens I have all day.”

“I ran away from home after high school. My parents wanted me to do something sensible like law…”

“Medicine, accounting, teaching…”

“Not teaching. Doesn’t make enough money for my dad to count it as a real profession.”

“Ouch! Career snob.”

Elizabeth laughed. “He’s been called a lot of things, never that. But you get the picture, right?”

“Oh, yes. I had the same speech from my dad. He was a police officer. IT was where I should be at he said. Secure and lucrative.”

“I guess the image of their daughter starving in a garret somewhere freaked them out. They only wanted the best for me.” Elizabeth drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them.

“The best for us is art and more art,” said Phillip. “So what happened? I take it you’re not practicing art now.”

She shook her head. “I went to art school entirely self-funded. It was a disaster. I ran out of money after the first two years. Lost my part time job. My boyfriend left me for a life-model.”

“That had to hurt.”

“A male life model. My parents said they’d fund the rest of my education but only if I did a course of their choosing. My dad’s a lawyer.” She held out her empty mug. “That’s great coffee.”

“Enough said on both counts.” He took her cup and poured her another. “So you don’t dabble?”

“Found myself too busy and my heart wasn’t in it anymore.” She looked out the window at the bright day waiting for her, the colours of the earth and sky so intense.

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