Hummingbird Lake

FIFTEEN





Sage arrived at Vistas the following day ready to paint. Despite a restless night, she awoke with the itchy energy that signaled an idea perking in her mind. She grasped hold of it like a lifeline and hurried through her morning routine before rushing off to work. She had two solid hours to work before opening Vistas, and the butterflies were flying, so to speak.

She adored working in her remodeled studio, though sometimes she didn’t believe it herself. No one who had known her in her medical days would believe she worked in these conditions. Even in the African bush, Dr. Anderson’s work area had been organized and uncluttered, her supplies pristine.

Here in the Vistas studio, she worked amidst a disorganized jumble. She had props of all kinds for inspiration—stacks of magazines, silk flowers and vines, funky furniture and fabrics, boas and beads. This was a mess, the perfect home for Sage Anderson, the artist.

She especially loved the lighting. She’d added two new skylights in the remodel. Along with the two front windows and the single one on the side, the new skylights created the perfect light, and when she walked into the room, the real world went soft and mellow and fantastical. As usual, she switched on her stereo and the sound of classic rock helped transport her into her creative world.

Here in her world of fairies and fantasy, Sage wasn’t herself, but somebody new and unique and … clean. Here, she liked who she was, and each time she visited, she took some of that world away from her when she left. She felt a little bit cleaner each time she returned to the real world.

She hoped that eventually, she’d bring along enough of the clean back with her that she’d be the new Sage in both places.

Fleetwood Mac played in the background as she created. Using mostly blues and greens and yellows, she brought a world to life that made her smile as she stood at the easel, confident that the finished work would please her patrons. When the cuckoo clock on the wall that served as her alarm sounded ten o’clock, even though it was only nine thirty-five, she stepped away from the easel, turned to wash out her brush, and stopped abruptly.

Colt Rafferty sat on the sill of the open window of the building next door, directly across from her open window. “Hello, beautiful.”

“What are you doing?”

“Not working, unfortunately. Too distracted by the scenery. It’s obvious I’m going to have to move my desk. Say, do you want to go to lunch later?”

“Hold it. Stop. That’s Gabe’s building. What are you doing in Gabe’s building?”

“This is my new office. I talked to Gabe last week. Got a great deal on the rent—he thinks the other office has a better view. He’s a better architect than he is a businessman, I think.”

While she gaped, he stepped across the narrow divide between the two buildings and into her studio. “You can’t do that.”

“It’s barely four feet across. It’s an easy step.”

“I didn’t mean that you can’t do that. I meant that you can’t do it.”

He ignored her, looking around the room. “Wow. Your home studio wasn’t like this. This place is a mess. What’s up with that?”

But even as she drew a breath to defend herself, he approached her easel and said, “Sage, this is really interesting. Your work shows more depth all the time. You’ve grown.”

“Good heavens, you are such a jerk.”

“So, you gonna go to lunch with me?”

If she looked into the mirror on her right, she thought, she just might see steam coming out her ears. Instead she looked left at the cuckoo clock. “I have to open the gallery. See yourself out, Rafferty.”

She left the room and headed downstairs, grimacing at the knowledge that she’d left her brushes filled with paint. She never neglected her brushes. Never!

Don’t run away from him. Don’t let him do that to you. Don’t let him take your power.

“What power?” she muttered even as she hesitated. Turning around, she retraced her steps and was relieved—at least that’s what she told herself—to find her studio empty once more.

She glanced through the window as she stood at the sink. He sat at a desk, talking on the telephone, flipping pages of a document in front of him. Why, Gabe? Why did you have to go and rent that office to that man?

She’d never get any work done now. She’d feel like she had someone looking over her shoulder all the time. She could move her easel, but she didn’t want to do that. The entire remodel had been designed around her easel standing in that one spot. She’d have to get window blinds. No, that would ruin the light.

She’d get him window blinds. And curtains.

I think I might be falling in love with you.

“Oh, Colt.” This was hard. If only … She closed her eyes. “No, don’t go there. Go downstairs and open the gallery and make those phone calls you need to make.”

She wanted to call Connor Keene’s agent. Vistas was going to hang his work in June and they still had a few details to negotiate. Besides, the woman had promised her a cookie recipe Sage wanted to share with Sarah, and she’d forgotten to send it.

For the next twenty minutes, Sage managed to keep her mind off Colt and on business. She had just wrapped up a phone call with her own agent when the door chime sounded. She looked up and her welcoming smile died.

Rose stood just inside the gallery looking stiff and uncomfortable. Before Sage could get out a word about this being business hours and, as such, an inappropriate time for dealing with personal issues, Rose said, “You told me to make an appointment. That’s what I am here to do.”

Inwardly Sage sighed. As much as she’d like to avoid this, she knew it was stupid to put it off any longer. “Okay. I have something going on this evening, but I could meet you afterward. Say, eight-thirty. Here. Is that okay?”

“I’ll be here.”

Sage brooded about the appointment all morning. So unsettled was she about it that when Colt showed up at lunchtime and offered to buy her a salad at the Bristlecone Café, she let him. “Don’t get any ideas, though,” she warned as they walked up Fourth Street toward Cottonwood. “I need a distraction, and you are all I’ve got.”

“Careful, Cinnamon. I’ll get a big head from all your praise.”

She rolled her eyes, then slipped her arm through his. “Tell you what. Let’s call a truce during lunch, shall we? Now that I’m over the surprise of your being here, I’d like to hear more about your plans. Where are you living?”

“For now, I’m at the Creekside Cabins. They have a fenced yard behind the office where they’re letting Shadow chill when he’s not with me, although I just learned about the doggie day care place that Celeste has added to Angel’s Rest. Speaking of dogs, where’s Snowdrop?”

“Today is her mani-pedi day.”

He stopped abruptly. “You’re kidding.”

She grinned. “Yes, I’m kidding. The Landry kids asked if she could hang out with them today.”

They arrived at the Bristlecone just as chaos erupted. Glenda Hawkins let out a scream and fell to the floor in a dead faint. Half a dozen people rushed forward; Sage hung back. Colt gave her an enigmatic look before addressing the couple at a nearby table. “What happened?”

“Her husband called,” Marlene Lange responded. “She was taking our order and she asked Jimmy Turnage to answer the phone when it rang. He said it was Ralph.”

Marcus Burnes added, “She didn’t say much more than hello before she squealed.”

By now, Glenda had come to and sat up. The knot in Sage’s belly relaxed when she heard her say she was fine. Jimmy Turnage helped Glenda to her feet. Then Glenda shocked the entire restaurant by laughing out loud and calling, “Free lunches for all! Ralph won over eight hundred thousand dollars in Vegas, baby!”

The place erupted in cheers, and the celebration began. As word spread, the crowd grew. Laughter was the rule of the day as the people of Eternity Springs tossed out suggestions for how Glenda and Ralph could spend their newfound wealth. Sage ended up pitching in to help in the kitchen and her lunch hour turned into two and a half, but she didn’t care. Not only did she enjoy herself, but the impromptu party gave her an extra hour and a half of distraction for the upcoming evening with Rose.

Colt had hung around, too, and as he walked back toward the gallery with her, he said, “You know, this is the sort of thing that made me want to move here.”

“Lax lunch hours?”

“The sense of community. The town where I grew up had it, but I haven’t found it anywhere else I’ve lived. Having that in your life enriches you.”

Sage couldn’t argue with him. Eternity Springs had offered her family when she’d had none of her own. Family. She sighed. “I’m going to talk to Rose tonight.”

“That’s good.”

“I don’t know if it is or not.”

“Are you ready to tell me about what happened with you two yet?”

No, she wasn’t. In fact, why had she mentioned Rose to him at all today? Doing so introduced an intimacy into their relationship that made the whole arm’s length thing more difficult to maintain. “I think you and I both should get back to work. Oh, dear. Look, someone is waiting out in front of Vistas. I don’t have so many customers this time of year that I can ignore them. I hope he hasn’t been waiting too long.”

As it turned out, the customer wasn’t a customer of hers but an Eternity Springs resident waiting for Margaret Rhodes to get back from the Bristlecone and reopen the library, which was across the street and two doors down from Vistas. Once Sage shared the news of Ralph Hawkins’ big win, the library patron decided to head over to the celebration himself.

As she unlocked the door to Vistas, Sage turned to Colt and attempted to dismiss him. “Enjoy the rest of your afternoon, Rafferty.”

“You too.” He stepped forward and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “Good luck with Rose. If you need me, I’m just a phone call away.”

He walked away whistling, his hands stuck in his pockets. Sage couldn’t help but sneak a look at his butt. The man did fill out a pair of jeans in a spectacular way.

Thoughts of Colt drifted through her mind off and on the rest of the afternoon. She had enjoyed having his company at lunch. Their interlude out at the lake last winter had been lovely, but more like make-believe than reality. Being with him at the Bristlecone today had been … ordinary.

Ordinary was so darned nice.

Against her better judgment, she allowed herself to imagine what it would be like to have a real relationship with Colt, to have an ordinary life with this man. It would be extraordinary.

It would be impossible.

He didn’t want to stop with a dog. He wanted a family. That meant children.

Impossible.

Late in the afternoon, a still jubilant Glenda Hawkins floated in and purchased Marcus Burnes’ photograph of a doe and her fawn drinking from Angel Creek. “I’ve had my eye on this one ever since I saw it hanging in your window, but I haven’t been able to justify spending the money on it. It’s the one treat I’m going to allow myself from this windfall.”

“I think that’s great. Where will you hang it?”

Glenda glanced around the gallery, making sure they were alone, then leaned forward. “Please don’t tell anyone, but I’m about to burst with the news. Once things settled down at the restaurant, I had a long talk with Ralph. Guess what—we’re going to move to Florida! It’s been a dream of ours ever since we visited Nic Callahan’s mom and aunt on our winter trip a few years ago. Billy is over the moon. He wants to be a pro golfer someday, you know. Florida weather is better for golf than what we have here.”

“That’s wonderful, Glenda. For you and Ralph and Billy, anyway. I can’t say the same for Eternity. What will we do without the Bristlecone?”

“Hopefully you won’t be without the restaurant. I plan to sell it.”

“Well, your magic in the kitchen is what makes the Bristlecone so wonderful. I can’t imagine anyone else being able to fill your shoes.”

“That’s sweet. Silly, but sweet. Thank you, dear. Now, you will keep the news to yourself, won’t you?”

“Absolutely.” Sage didn’t expect to have to keep the secret long. Glenda Hawkins was the biggest gossip in town. Sage didn’t see her keeping quiet about her own big scoop. In fact, she’d probably already told every person she’d spoken with since hanging up the telephone. Her suspicions proved true when, after closing Vistas for the day, she walked toward Angel’s Rest for a Patchwork Angels meeting and three separate people stopped her and asked if she’d heard the news. “Ah, small-town life,” she murmured. “Wonder how Colt will like this aspect of the community.”

After that Sage’s thoughts turned to the latest project of the Patchwork Angels, the small quilt they were making for the Alzheimer’s Art Quilt Initiative. Lori Reese had suggested the project, and Sage had worked with her on the design. It was a labor of love for both Sarah and her daughter, and lately one of the few activities they shared without bickering these days. The graduating-from-high-school-and-going-off-to-college experience was proving difficult for them both.

She met up with said mother-daughter team at the pedestrian bridge to Angel’s Rest over Angel Creek, and Sarah quizzed her about Colt all the way to the Patchwork Angels workroom in the converted attic of the old Cavanaugh mansion. Sage was so busy fending off Sarah’s nosiness that she had already set her tote bag on the table and pulled out her scissors when she spied the visitor. “Rose.”

Celeste Blessing swept into the room. “Hello, dears.”

Colt trailed in after her. Sage dropped her chin to her chest and sighed. If she was a conspiracy theorist, she’d believe that the world was conspiring against her.

Sarah said, “I’m surprised to see you here, Colt. Are you joining the Patchwork Angels? Are you packing a thimble and needles?”

“Afraid not.”

Thank you, God.

“Celeste just wants me for my body.”

Celeste laughed and pointed toward the far wall. “The boxes I need moved to the basement are over there.”

Another couple of quilt group members entered the workroom as Celeste addressed the dozen or so women already congregated inside. “I suspect you all know Colt Rafferty, who is Eternity Springs’ newest full-time resident. I want to introduce you to one of our guests here at Angel’s Rest, Dr. Rose Anderson. Rose told me a story about a volunteer quilt project, and I asked her to share it with us today. Rose, the floor is yours.”


Rose was so nervous that she felt sick to her stomach. Celeste hadn’t said a word about Sage being part of this group. She never would have come if she’d known. Her sister undoubtedly would view it as an attempt on Rose’s part to horn in on her life when, in fact, she’d agreed to speak to the quilt group because she was looking for a distraction before the meeting at eight-thirty.

What’s done is done. You might as well just say what you came to say and leave.

“Until recently I was a internist on staff at a VA hospital in Pennsylvania, and when Celeste told me that your quilt group does volunteer projects, I mentioned one that I personally know is worthy of support. The organization is called Quilts of Valor. Part of what they do is to make quilts to honor and comfort our war wounded as a tangible way of saying thank you for their service, sacrifice, and valor. The idea is that the quilts are a hug from America for our combat veterans, that they are meant to be wrapped around our wounded warriors to show them that America cares.”

“Just thinking about that makes me tear up,” one of the women said.

“I know,” Rose agreed. “I cannot tell you how much those quilts mean to our young men and women. They personalize a warrior’s service and his or her sacrifice in a way that means so much. I think part of the reason is because quilting is part of America’s heritage. They just seem to say home and say Mom and apple pie.”

Sarah said, “I’ll bet the vets treasure the quilts.”

“They do. The quilts immediately become a family heirloom. But what I found most telling was how the warriors view their quilts when they’re alone. I can’t tell you how many times I walked into a room and found a vet teary-eyed over his quilt or sometimes simply running his hands over the stitches. It really is a wonderful, wonderful program. If your group is looking for a project quilt, I can’t recommend Quilts of Valor highly enough.”

One of the women asked how the donation process worked, and after Rose explained what she knew about it, another person asked if donations could be directed to Rose’s hospital. Rose sneaked a look at Sage before she answered, “Actually, I’m no longer at the VA. I’ve left the service.”

Sage’s head jerked around. “You’ve what?”

“I punched my ticket.”

“But … you’re career army.”

“Not anymore.”

“Why not? What happened?”

“It’s part of what I have to say at eight-thirty tonight.”

Celeste looked from Sage to Rose, then back to Sage again. “For those of you who haven’t made the connection, Rose and Sage are sisters.”

As Rose watched Sage deliberate her next response, she had a flash of her sister standing before the Colonel, preparing to broach her request to stay out all night at the school-sponsored after prom. She’d asked Rose to make a special trip home to be there during the request to add sisterly support, and Rose had been happy to do so. Together they had overcome their father’s objections, and once they were alone, Sage had squealed and thrown herself into Rose’s arms and lavished her with praise.

Times had certainly changed.

And Rose wanted away from the audience.

As Sage opened her mouth to speak, Rose quickly interjected, “So, that’s what I had to share with you all. Now, while you enjoy your meeting I have a date with one of the hot springs pools. I’ll see you later.”

She rushed out of the room and down the stairs to her second-floor guest room. There she grabbed her tote bag, a towel, and her swimsuit and continued downstairs.

Outside, she headed toward the hot springs pools. She only vaguely noticed that Colt Rafferty was wandering down the exact same path. She ducked into the hot springs changing facility, then reemerged a few minutes later in her swimsuit. She followed the path to the most isolated pool. There she kicked off her shoes, pulled her coverup over her head, then eased into the hot—and, frankly, smelly—pool.

It was heaven.

He gave her a whole half minute to relax. “Hello there, Dr. Anderson. You remember me—my name is Colt Rafferty. We met yesterday at the Trading Post. I’m dating your sister.”

“Mr. Rafferty …”

He sat on one of the benches beside the pool Rose had chosen and began untying the laces of his hiking boots. “Call me Colt, please. Actually, it’s more than just dating. I’m pretty sure I want to marry her, although in the spirit of full disclosure, she isn’t nearly as certain about me. Sage doesn’t talk about her family much. I’m curious. I take it you two have had a falling-out?”

He wants to marry her. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Dimpled. Well, great. She choked back a little semi-hysterical laugh. Isn’t that just perfect? He’ll probably get her pregnant, too. “Listen, Mr., uh, Colt. I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to talk about our family issues with you.”

After all, she and Sage didn’t talk about them.

Undeterred, he pulled off his shoes and socks and rolled up the legs of his khaki slacks. He sat at the edge of the pool and dipped his feet into the water. “I still can’t get over the changes in Eternity Springs’ pools. I vacationed here as a kid, and these hot springs were little more than a muddy mess. So, if you won’t talk about troubles, how about easy stuff? Tell me what Sage was like as a girl. Was she ornery? A little angel? Did she chase butterflies even then?”

The man was so subtly persistent that Rose found herself answering without actually meaning to do so, and in the process she told him quite a bit about Sage, about herself, and even some about the Colonel.

“So was she artistic even then?” Colt asked. “Or did she always want to be a doctor?”

“Actually, as a child she wanted to be a painter.”

“Oh, yeah?”

Rose nodded. “She always had great hands with a dexterity I coveted. A surgeon’s hands.”

“An artist’s hands,” Colt said.

“My hands.” Sage stepped out of the shadows. She wore a one-piece bathing suit with a beach towel wrapped around her. “My business.”

Rose shifted, sitting up straighter. Sage met Colt’s gaze. “I’d like to speak with my sister privately. Would you excuse us, Colt?”

“Sure.” He pulled his feet out of the water and stood. After Sage tossed him a towel, he dried his feet, pulled on his socks and boots, and rolled his pants legs down. He crossed to her sister and said, “I’ll wait for you at the bridge.”

“Don’t bother.”

“I’ll wait.” He stopped beside her as he left, gave her hand a squeeze, and kissed her cheek before moving off down the path.

For a long moment neither woman spoke. Rose didn’t feel comfortable with the dynamics here, her seated in the pool and Sage standing over her. She’d just about decided to leave the pool when Sage tossed away the towel and stepped down into the water.

To break the silence, Rose asked an obvious question. “So, you decided not to wait until eight-thirty?”

“These hot springs pools stink of sulfur. Seemed like an appropriate place to have this talk.”

Rose smiled wryly. Her sister had a point.

“Okay, Rose. Let’s hear it. Say what you came here to say.”

Giving in to nerves, Rose tapped her toes at the bottom of the pool. She tried to recall and launch into the statement she’d prepared and practiced dozens of times, but the words that came out were something else entirely. “I miss you, Sage. I want you in my life again.”

“Gee, in that case, I guess you shouldn’t have tossed me out of your life, hmm?”

“It was a bad time for both of us.”

“I know it was for me. You had me thrown out of my own father’s funeral, Rose!”

“That was Brandon’s doing. I didn’t know about it until afterward, I swear. I felt terrible about it when he told me what happened.”

“So terrible that you rushed right over the following day to apologize, right? Oh, wait. My bad. That didn’t happen, did it?”

Rose clenched her teeth. She’d never dealt well with Sage’s sarcasm. Why hadn’t she kept to her script? She’d put so much thought into choosing the right words in order to avoid a situation like this and then when the time came to use them, she went blank. Stay calm. Keep your eye on the goal.

“As much as I’d like to go back and change the past, I can’t do that. All I can do is attempt to move forward. I’d like to move forward with you. I know I’ve hurt you, and I’m sorry about that. In the past year or so I’ve spent some time evaluating and reevaluating what is important to me. I figured out that a lot of the things I thought were important actually aren’t. I also learned that things I told myself weren’t important are the most important things on earth. Family is important, Sage. You are important to me. I’d like us to find our way back to each other.”

Sage sank down in the water up to her neck. Above the bubbling of the springs, Rose heard her sigh. After a long silence, she asked, “Why now? Have you and Brandon finally set a date? You want family at the wedding and I’m all there is?”

“Brandon and I aren’t together anymore. He married someone else. In fact …” She sucked in a breath against the pain, then forced out the words. “They’re expecting a baby.”

“You’re kidding me.” Sage’s mouth gaped. “Didn’t he always say he didn’t want kids?”

“Yes.” Rose was proud it didn’t come out like a sob. “He changed his mind.”

Sage muttered something Rose couldn’t hear, then asked, “How long were you two together?”

Rose cleared her throat. “Seven years.”

“Seven years.” She blew out a breath. “Whose idea was it to split?”

“That would be Brandon.”

“I’m sorry, Rose.” She hesitated a beat, then said, “I never liked him.”

Rose managed to keep most of the bitterness out of her voice. “Well, Brandon doesn’t matter. That’s behind me; it’s over. I’m looking forward now.”

Sage climbed to her feet. “Okay. Well, then. You just look forward. Personally, I’m up to my eyebrows with right now. The summer season is upon us, and I have a graduation party for a dear friend next week. Then I have a prominent guest coming to town to do a huge favor for me. I really don’t have time to fret about forward.”

She stepped out of the pool and reached for her towel. Rose said, “Sage. Wait, please. You’re my family. We are the only family each other has. We should—”

“Stop it.” Sage whirled on her, her voice fierce, her eyes glimmering with pain. “I’m sorry your boyfriend dumped you. I really am. Men so often suck. But you know what? I’m not all warm and fuzzy about being your backup date to the prom. It’s insulting. You didn’t sweep into Eternity Springs with an olive branch until Brandon left and you were alone. Maybe I would have been more receptive to the idea if I wasn’t so obviously your last resort. Good-bye, Rose.”

Ah, Rose, you really screwed this up. Sage had already taken three steps down the path away from her when Rose screwed up her courage and said, “Sage, I have cancer.”