Sweetheart Bride by Lenora Worth

Author:Lenora Worth
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Steeple Hill
Published: 2012-09-10T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

She’d again been at Fleur House all afternoon. Brenna had made sure Nick wasn’t around before she’d unlocked the big house and went inside. This was the second Sunday she’d enjoyed the quiet sanctuary of the house while she painted. Alma’s weekend crew had let it slip that Nick liked to come to the café on Sunday afternoons to work quietly and drink gallons of coffee.

“And he eats pie,” Alma had confided. “He seems to like pie.”

No one other than Alma knew she’d been coming here. Not even Nick. She really wanted to surprise Callie with this portrait. But she also wanted to do this one thing simply because it brought her joy and made her feel closer to God.

It had been such a long time since Brenna had taken things slow and easy and actually enjoyed the beauty of a Sunday afternoon after church and dinner with her family. This time helped her to relax and reflect and see that she’d been living a spiraling, stressed life in Baton Rouge. Being back home had seemed like the worst thing at first, but being here now and being a part of this important restoration had helped her to see that she needed to do her own restoration, too.

Today, however, the sun wasn’t shining through the ceiling-to-floor arched windows. The weatherman had predicted rain beginning tomorrow and lasting all week. The outer bands of the tropical disturbance were stirring around out in the Gulf. Brenna finished up and gathered her brushes, easel and other supplies, glad that she’d had a couple of hours to touch up the portrait. She’d talked to Callie so much about which plants and flowers she favored that Brenna knew them by heart. No sunflowers, but Callie loved old magnolias and crape myrtles, moss-covered cypress trees and trailing bougainvilleas. Brenna had gathered this information on the pretense of taking notes for the owner regarding the garden. And she’d give those notes to Nick to pass on. But the portrait was growing more vivid each time she passed her brush over the canvas. She hoped to have it finished in time for Callie’s December birthday.

The house would soon be finished, too. And Nick would move on. She kept telling herself that so she’d be prepared, so she could accept that his time here wasn’t permanent. And neither was her job. They’d been working together comfortably, laughing, discussing, planning. No more kissing, though.

But every now and then, Brenna would look up and find Nick gazing at her, that intense expression pouring over his face. And she’d remember their kiss.

She stood staring out the windows now, wishing she could paint another picture. In that portrait, she’d be dancing in Nick’s arms again. And this time, she’d be the sweetheart bride in the picture.

* * *

Another week had rolled by, but the image of her own wedding wouldn’t leave Brenna’s mind. Because it had rained off and on all week, she’d at least been spared seeing Nick every day.

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