Every Last Look by Christa Wick & C.M. Wick

Author:Christa Wick & C.M. Wick [Wick, Christa & Wick, C.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Christa Wick

16

Quinn

Half an hour working with the first canvas produced a riot of dark smears that looked like a bunch of toddlers had gotten into a fistfight with finger paint. I scraped away the mess, re-primed the canvas, then picked up the spare that Barrett had so considerately provided.

I didn’t reach for the palette or any brushes. I just sat there, my gaze soaking in the landscape’s colors and shapes.

I had forgotten what it was like for painting to be hard. In part because so much of it had come easily to me.

Up until the gallery opening.

Growling, I forced down thoughts of what my half-sister had done. Naomi was in the past. All I had to do was stay off the teen’s radar—no social media with my picture or real name, no business registrations.

Out here, in the middle of nowhere, I could have a life without my mother or sister. All because of Jasper.

And Barrett, I amended, a relaxed smile spreading wide across my face.

Thinking of him, how safe he made me feel, I picked up the palette and brush and began to paint.

Using a fine edge, I outlined the water and the line of the trees with a greenish brown. Loading the brush up, I added in trunks, some of them massive, others scrawny from living in the shadows of giants. Switching to a fan brush, I slid it through the green and added in the foliage, then back to the brown for branches, a little yellow for highlights, dark blues for the water before moving on to the meadow.

Gaze returning to my inspiration, I frowned at an outcropping of rock in the meadow. A rock that hadn’t been there earlier.

A brown rock that was moving.

A brown bear that was moving—its head lifting as if it had finally sensed my presence.

The palette and brush slipped from my hands. I eased from the chair and started to walk toward the trees behind me, not once turning my back on the meadow.

Rough bark scratched at my shoulders. I froze, my mind taking a few terrifying seconds to recognize that I had walked into a tree and not another bear. A few more seconds passed before I realized I had forgotten to grab the radio, gun and bear spray from the top of the bin.

Oh God, Oh God, Oh God…

I moved forward, heart pounding in my chest because the bear was definitely crossing the meadow, its big, furry body ambling slowly in my direction.

Don’t run, I reminded myself, grabbing the gun first, then the radio and finally the spray. Barrett had told me that, if I ran, whether it was from a mountain lion or a bear, I would trigger the animal’s instinct to run down prey.

Getting behind a tree, I peeked around the trunk as I held down the push-to-talk button.

“Barrett, can you hear me?”

I released the button, my hand shaking so badly I was in danger of dropping the radio. I brought the radio near my mouth again, finishing off a five count before I would repeat the message.

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