The Carousel Painter by Judith Miller

Author:Judith Miller [Miller, Judith]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: FIC042030
ISBN: 9781441204769
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2009-08-31T21:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

16

On Monday morning I received an introduction to the new painter, Gunter Schmitt. All concern over Gunter’s willingness to work alongside a woman evaporated the moment I met him. A shock of sandy hair fell over one eye, and he possessed an air of sophistication. I wasn’t certain if it was the hair over his eye or his self-assured manner. Perhaps a little of each. Instead of hesitating to shake the hand of a woman, he reached out and grasped my hand in a friendly manner. When he didn’t drop his hold, I noticed Josef nudge him in the side. He grinned and released my hand with an effusive apology.

After Josef had given Gunter a tour of the factory, the two of them returned to the paint shop. Josef motioned to the rack of elegantly carved horses awaiting the painter’s brush that would bring them to life. Gunter inspected some of the horses that had been partially painted and were ready for their next application.

Stooping around one of the horses’ heads, he signaled and complimented me on my work. Once again, Josef nudged him, but Gunter laughed and finally chose one of the horses that I had begun. A giant white jumper I had planned to embellish with a pink and white blanket. I had decided upon pink as the primary color for the carved roses, with leaves of deep green and a garland of pale blue highlighted with gold. Pink would make it the perfect choice for any little girl who wanted to ride a carousel horse. I doubted Gunter would use such a color scheme.

Mr. Tobarth set him up to work on his other side. I supposed it was to keep one eye on me and the other on Gunter. I strained forward when he began to prepare his paints. I didn’t see any pastel shades in his mix.

He ran an appreciative hand down the horse’s body. “A fine paint job,” he said.

Mr. Tobarth bobbed his head. “That’s Carrie—Miss Brewer’s work.”

“Brouwer,” I whispered. Why can’t he remember my name? Sometimes I thought he knew how much it annoyed me and did it on purpose.

“I mean, that’s Miss Brouwer’s painting—and Josef’s carving,” he added.

Gunter arched his back and rested his elbows across his thighs. “I think you’ll like what I can add to the horse.”

Though I had already pictured the completed horse in my mind, I nodded. No matter how good his work, it wouldn’t be what I had planned. I knew exactly what that horse needed to make it beautiful. Deciding it would be best if I didn’t watch, I concentrated on the flowing blanket draped across my horse’s back. Still, I couldn’t help but occasionally sneak a glance down the line. He’d started with the roses; he was painting them a pale red—not the shade I would have picked, but at least he hadn’t chosen to paint them yellow or white.

When the bell sounded for lunch, I leaned toward Mr. Tobarth. “I have a few church questions for you.

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