Treasured

“Ben’s a genius!” Destiny said fiercely. “Concentrate on winning him over, my dear, and forget about me.”

“Hard to do, when you’re here and he’s not.”

“He’ll come around in time. In the meantime, I’m sure you’ll find something wonderful for the gallery for the holiday season,” Destiny said. “Even at the last second, there are dozens of local artists who’d be thrilled by an invitation to show their works here. Ask one of them. They’ll accept. You’re very persuasive, after all.”

Kathleen gave her a wry look. “I don’t seem to be doing so well with you. Maybe all Carltons are immune to my charms.”

“Maybe you simply need to formulate a new strategy and try a little harder,” Destiny advised. Her expression turned thoughtful. “My nephew has a sweet tooth. Since you bake all those delicious little pastries you serve at your events here, I’m sure you could use that skill to your advantage.”

Apparently satisfied that she’d planted her seed for the day, Destiny glanced at her watch and feigned shock. “Oh, dear, look at the time. I’m late. I just wanted to stop by and tell you how delighted I was to see that review and to tell you again that I’m so glad you were able to join us yesterday.”

“Thanks for including me,” Kathleen said, giving up the battle of wits with Destiny for now. A retreat seemed in order, since it seemed unlikely she’d be able to change Destiny’s mind.

“I really enjoyed meeting the rest of your family,” she added with total sincerity, “Beth and Melanie especially. Chatting with them was very enlightening.”

Destiny gave her a sharp look. “Don’t believe everything you’re told, Kathleen.”

Kathleen chuckled at her worried expression. “Yes, I can see why you wouldn’t want me taking their advice at face value.”

“What did those two tell you?” she asked, clearly ready to defend herself against all charges.

“Nothing I hadn’t already figured out for myself,” Kathleen said. “You’re a clever woman, Destiny. And a force to be reckoned with.”

Destiny squared her shoulders. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said.

“I thought you might,” Kathleen said, her grin spreading. “I’m not entirely convinced they meant it that way, though.”

“Those two have nothing to complain about,” Destiny grumbled. “If it weren’t for me giving them and my nephews a timely nudge, their lives would be very different.”

“I’m sure they would all concede that,” Kathleen agreed. “But may I give you a piece of advice?”

“Of course.”

“Don’t count on getting your way where Ben and I are concerned.”

Destiny looked amused. “Because you’re made of tougher stuff?”

“Precisely.”

“Darling, that only means you’ll fall even faster and harder.”

Abandoning Kathleen to ponder that, she swept out of the gallery, leaving only the scent of her expensive perfume and her warning to linger in the air.

* * *

Ben slapped a heavy layer of dark, swirling paint on the canvas and regarded it bleakly. It pretty much mirrored his mood ever since Thanksgiving. Anyone looking at the painting would see nothing but turmoil and confusion. Some fool critic would probably look at it and see evidence of madness, and maybe he had gone a little mad from the moment he’d met Kathleen Dugan. Heaven knew, he couldn’t get her out of his head, which was something he hadn’t expected.

Nor had he been able to paint, not with the delicate touch required to translate nature into art. The fiasco in front of him had started out to be a painting of Canada geese heading north, but he’d messed it up so badly, he’d simply started layering coats of paint over the disaster, swirling together colors simply to rid himself of the restless desire to be doing something artistic even when his talent seemed to have deserted him. Who knew? Maybe he’d discover a whole new style. Looking at the canvas, though, it didn’t seem likely.

He was about to put a fresh canvas on the easel and start over when he heard the slam of a car door. He glanced outside and saw Mack climbing out of his SUV. He figured his big brother had probably come to gloat. One look at the painting in front of Ben and even without an ounce of artistic talent of his own, Mack would recognize that his brother was in a funk. To avoid that, Ben took the still-damp canvas and shoved it out of sight, then grabbed a blank one and sat it on the easel.

Mack came in seconds later, carrying a bag filled with sandwiches and bottles of soda. He glanced at the pristine canvas and raised an eyebrow.

“Artist’s block?” he inquired, barely containing a grin.

“Nope,” Ben lied. “Just thinking about a new painting. Haven’t even picked up my brush yet.”

Mack’s gaze immediately went to the palette of paints that had clearly been in use recently. “Oh?”

“I finished something earlier,” Ben claimed, knowing he was only digging the hole deeper. Mack might not know art, but he knew his brother. He was also pretty deft at recognizing an evasion when he heard one.

“Can I see?” he asked, his expression innocent. His eyes betrayed him, though. They were filled with amusement.

“No. I tossed it out,” Ben claimed. “It wasn’t coming together right.”

“Maybe you were too close to it. Could be you’d lost perspective. I could give you my opinion,” Mack offered cheerfully, clearly not buying the elaborate tale.

“I’d rather you just dole out one of those sandwiches and leave the art critiques to people who know what they’re talking about,” Ben groused.

“You mean people like Kathleen Dugan?” Mack asked, his expression perfectly bland as he handed over a roast beef sandwich. “She seems knowledgeable.”

“It’ll be a cold day in hell before I let her near my paintings,” Ben retorted.

“Because you don’t think she knows the business or because Destiny introduced you?” Mack asked, grinning broadly. “Can’t say I blame you for not trusting our aunt’s motivation in inviting Kathleen out here.”

“Yeah, well, you would know, wouldn’t you?” Ben said.

“That I would.”

“Why are you here, by the way?”

“Just thought I’d drop by and see how you’re doing,” Mack claimed.

“You were here Thursday. It’s only Saturday. How much could happen in a couple of days?”

“I’d say that depends on how sneaky Destiny is being,” Mack said cheerfully. “Has Kathleen popped up yet?”

“No sign of her,” Ben admitted.

Mack studied him intently. “Are you relieved about that?”

“Of course.”

“You don’t sound especially happy. Seemed to me the two of you hit it off okay the other night. Maybe you were hoping she’d turn up to pester you by now.”

Ben gave him a sour look. “We were polite.”

“Then that kiss was just a polite gesture?” Mack asked.