For the Love of Texas by Ginger Chambers

Author:Ginger Chambers
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2011-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

“IT’S LOVELY,” CLAIRE SAID with genuine admiration as she gazed at a painting of an old cowboy gifting a toddler with a wildflower. The cowboy was dressed in his well-worn working clothes and wearing a hat that might have matched his grizzled years. Bending deeply at the waist, the man grinned as he delicately extended the flower to a little girl with bright copper-colored hair. The child echoed his stance and their fingers met on the stem.

“That’s Gene, one of our hands, and Megan, my grandbaby,” Gib said proudly. “I painted it for Jodie and Tate. Thought they might enjoy it.”

That painting wasn’t the only likeness of the little girl in the crowded studio.

Gib grinned. “I kinda like paintin’ her.”

“How old is she?” Claire asked.

“Gonna be two in September.”

“Is she your only grandchild?”

“Only one. Just like Jodie’s my only daughter.”

“I’ve met Jodie,” Claire said.

“So I heard.”

Claire looked up from inspecting another painting of the child to see that his gaze matched his teasing tone.

“Heard she was a little hard on ya,” he continued. “You’ll understand better if you know that Mae practically raised her. The two of them…” He shook his mostly white head. “Jodie’s the closest Mae’s ever come to havin’ a baby of her own, and Mae’s the closest Jodie’s ever had to havin’ a mama after her real one took off.”

Claire lifted another painting. A landscape. “This one’s nice, too,” she said.

“I did that a few years back. It’s out in Red Canyon Division.”

He brought out more landscape canvases for Claire to see. Not to boast, but to show her different aspects of the ranch. As in his previous paintings, his subjects seemed to come to life. The animals, the cowboys, the awesome isolated beauty of the land.

“A cowboy who paints,” Claire mused softly. “I suppose that gives you some special insight?”

Gib seemed surprised. “Me?” He laughed. “I’m no cowboy. I’m not any good on a horse. Never have been, never will be.”

“But I thought—”

“I was always at Mae’s beck and call. Did what she wanted—drove her here or there, went to pick things up or take messages to people. Never was much good for anythin’ else.”

“But these—” Claire motioned to the canvases.

“Are the only thing I can do.” He grinned again. “Don’t bother me none, bein’ useless most of my life. Used to bother Aunt Mae, but it doesn’t seem to so much anymore. Not since she found out people like my work.” He eyed Claire. “Seems like you took my place as her gofer. Isn’t that what they’re called? You off on one of her errands now?”

Claire hadn’t expected such keen insight. She jumped slightly at being caught out.

“I’ve watched her work her ways enough times over the years to know when she’s up to somethin’,” Gib explained. “Only…I’m either gettin’ good at spottin’ it or she’s losin’ her touch.” He sobered. “Hope it’s me gettin’ good.”

“She told me to show this to you,” Claire said, retrieving the notebook from her pocket.

Gib leafed through the pages with great care.

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