I park my car alongside Josh’s and stare through the front windscreen. “Wow,” I say to myself, my mouth agape.
Josh stands in front of his car, leaning against the bumper. I watch, riveted as his shoulders rise and fall with his deep breaths. He lives here, but I can tell he never takes this beauty for granted. A dog I presume must be Leroy—the one he mentioned when he introduced himself at the first class—bounds up the hill to Josh, and my heart melts when he squats down to pat his head with obvious affection.
I get out of the car and am immediately accosted by the big, brown dog, wagging his entire body, clearly thrilled by the company.
“Sorry,” Josh says when I’m nearly bowled over by so much gorgeous exuberance. “Hey, Leroy.” He picks up a stick and throws it down the hill. “Fetch.” Leroy flies down the hill.
“It’s absolutely fine,” I say. “I love dogs.”
Neither of us says another word as we stare at each other for a beat before I break eye contact to glance at the surroundings. To our left, a wooden, cabin-style home has been built into the side of the hill, completely hidden from the road and with an uninterrupted view of the lush, green fields surrounding the water. Black cows drink at the water’s edge. There are a few other buildings I can see, which I presume are barns or maybe machinery sheds. I may have been brought up in the country, but I’ve never spent any time on a farm. I haven’t the first clue about farm animals or anything farm-related at all.
“This is amazing,” Brooke exclaims, appearing in front of us, holding out her arms wide and spinning in a circle.
Zoey, Eric, Kaye, and Tennyson have similar reactions. No wonder Josh loves it here so much.
“Do you live out here all alone?” Brooke asks, and we all turn to face Josh. I hate that I want him to say yes.
He shakes his head, and my heart drops. “Leroy keeps me company.” He reaches down and pats his dog, who has returned with the stick, proud as punch. The relief I feel at his answer is unsettling.
“Is this where all your inspiration comes from?” Kaye stares into the distance.
“Sometimes,” he replies. “Sometimes not. But my hope is that all of you find some today. In my experience, a change of scenery and surrounding yourself with like-minded people certainly can’t hurt creativity.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Tennyson says.
“The day is ultimately yours, so find somewhere you’re comfortable.” He waves his hand towards the house. “All the supplies are on the back deck, but you’re welcome to take them anywhere you like on the property.”
We follow Josh towards the large deck that spans the entire length of the house. Everyone else chooses supplies, then they return to the grassy hill. Josh and I are left alone and I’m glad. I shouldn’t be, but I am. There are several easels set up, and I notice a stunning painting that appears to be half-finished. Glancing back, I can see the others have either found a spot on the hill or are still walking around enjoying the scenery.
“Looks like it’s just you and me,” Josh says, smiling.
“Looks like it,” I reply, awkwardly.
“What made you decide to come today?” Josh asks as I take a seat in front of one of the other easels. “I was a little surprised to see you.”
I shrug. “I had nothing else to do.” It sounds lame and rude, but it’s the truth.
Josh chuckles, clearly unoffended. “Well I’m glad. Perhaps this is going to be what you need to start creating again.”
“Maybe.”
“I obviously don’t know you very well, but I just get the feeling you’re looking for an exit strategy at all times.”
Wow. I guess we’re not going to talk about the weather then. I chew on the inside of my cheek, rattled by his brutal honesty.
“Hey.” He takes my arm gently and stops me, pushing me gently to face him. “I don’t mean to offend you. I’m just trying to work you out, I guess.”
“There’s nothing to work out.” I pull back so his hand drops from my arm. “It takes me a while to warm up to people.” I scoop my hair over one shoulder and twirl it around my fingers.
“When I met you last summer, you froze when Mum asked if you liked art. I’ll never forget that look on your face, and now more than ever I want to know why it seemed to pain you when it’s obviously something you love.”
I look at him incredulously, unable to believe he’s broaching such an intensely personal topic, ripping me open within five minutes of our conversation. I open and close my mouth a few times before managing to come up with something to shut this down. “Art is something I did when I was a kid. It’s something I left behind for reasons I don’t really want to get into with you or anyone. So, if we can just leave it at that, I’d appreciate it.”
“Okay,” Josh says, but sounds anything but content with my response. “But I’m not giving up on you, Emerson.”
My body tenses. Mereki used to say the same thing to me.
Pulling a paintbrush from behind his ear, Josh waves it between us. “Remember what this is?”
“A paintbrush,” I deadpan.
“It’s a lifeline.” He picks up my hand and closes my fingers around it. “Drawing, painting, creating art—it’s your lifeline, and you need to embrace it.”
I stare down at his large hand wrapped around mine, wrapped around the paintbrush. It’s a powerful connection, and I can’t decide if I should cry with joy or scream out in pain.
“Close your eyes,” he urges.
“Excuse me?” I ask, taken aback.
“Just do it. Please.”
Feeling defeated, I close my eyes, exhaling as I wait for further instructions. There is nothing but silence for at least a minute, maybe more.
“Tell me what you can smell.”
Strange, but I’m willing to humour him. I inhale deeply and smile. “Paint.”
More silence, and then I’m aware of movement as I hear the creak of wood. I think he’s sitting down on his stool. My ears prick to the sound of swishing water and the tap of wood on glass. He’s rinsing his paintbrush.
The next few minutes are a symphony of melodic sounds.
“Brushstrokes,” I whisper, and my heart rate slows. I saw what he was working on earlier, and now I’m imagining him adding to the rural landscape.
“What colour do you think I’m using?”
Without hesitating, I answer, “Green.”
“Why?” he asks, his voice stern and demanding.
“The grasslands are crimson. You’ve only done the base layer and need to add the green.”
“Open your eyes.”
I open them, and he’s holding up his brush coated in dark green paint. “Why are you pushing me on this?” I ask. “I’m attending your classes, and I turned up today. What more do you want from me?”
Josh drops his paintbrush back in the water jar, then runs his hands through his hair. “The short answer is I don’t know.” He stands and takes a step toward me. “I know it might seem crazy, but I feel like I’ve met you before, or maybe you remind me of someone.” He pauses, obviously struggling to verbalise what he’s thinking. “I want to help you but don’t know how because you’re hiding so much of yourself.” He smiles. “It’s very frustrating.”
His intuition is both unsettling and comforting. He seems to genuinely care, and I realise I trust him. Perhaps it’s because of all the drawings he left for me, or perhaps it’s the way my body reacts to him that I trust him. But I can’t see any benefit in telling him about what I went through five years ago.
I pick up one of the paintbrushes and dip it in the blue paint. Without meeting Josh’s gaze, I say, “Maybe it’s best if we just focus on the art for now.”
For the rest of the day, Josh gives each of us equal attention just like he does in every class. With every passing minute and every quiet brushstroke, I feel more alive than I have in a long time. The colour of the lake darkens with the sky.
The storm clouds roll in, and I wrap my arms around myself, feeling the chill in the air as the temperature quickly drops.
“What a shame,” Josh says. “Time to go, ladies and gents. I reckon it’ll be pouring within the hour, so best you get back on the road as soon as possible. My bet is it’ll be dry as a bone past the Cat and Mouse. I’ve seen it so many times—torrential here and nowhere else.”
“This has been a wonderful day,” Zoey says, picking up her canvas. “Thank you for having us out here, Josh.”
“You’re welcome, Zoey.”
“Absolutely,” Eric says, shaking his hand. “I’ll be returning next month, for sure.”
For some reason, I’m still standing by Josh’s side while the two cars disappear down the driveway. To an outsider, I guess it would look like we’re a couple saying goodbye to our guests. I feel way too comfortable with this man and realise that I need to get going, too.
“Thank you,” I say quietly when Josh looks down at me. “I’m glad I came.”
Josh smiles, but there’s a sad tinge to it. It might be wishful thinking, but I wonder if he’s disappointed that I’m leaving. If he could see my thoughts, he’d know that I’m disappointed, too. I love it here, but it’s not the farm I’m sad to leave—it’s him.
“I hope you don’t think this is inappropriate or pushy, but you can stay here tonight if you want. I promise my intentions are almost entirely honourable.” He glances back towards the house. “I have several spare rooms, and I’m worried about you driving alone in this weather.”
We both look up at the sky. It has darkened considerably even in the short time since the others left.
“That’s sweet of you, Josh, but I should get home, and I’m comfortable driving in the rain.” I smile up at him. “I’m a country girl.”
He sighs, nodding. “Take it easy then, okay?” He walks me to my car. “It’ll be really slippery when it starts to rain. We haven’t had any in a while.”
“Will do.” I rummage in my bag for my keys, then climb in. “Thanks again for today. I enjoyed the change of scenery. I think I needed it more than I thought.”
“You’re welcome any time,” he says, tapping the roof of my car.
I glance back at the cabin and the lake beyond and hope I do have the opportunity to return. “That’s very generous of you.”
“It’s just nice to see you smile.”
It’s been so long since I’ve felt so welcome and wanted. My friendship with Josh is bringing me back to life. As long as I don’t cross any lines, I can’t see the harm in it.
As I drive away, I glance in the rear-view mirror and see him watching me leave, and I can’t help but smile.
Happiness soon fades when the heavens open, and a deluge of rain hits. As I bump across the cattle grid, I lose all vision through the windscreen. The sensible thing to do would be to turn back, but I don’t.
I’ve only been driving for a few minutes when the car jolts, forcing me to slam on the brakes. I fight to keep it under control as I slip and slide across the road, eventually coming to a stop on the gravel shoulder—and that’s when I discover that I have a flat tyre.
That’s just freaking perfect. Dusk, deserted road, dark forest, torrential rain. Of course I have a flat tyre. That’s Sod’s Law, right?
“Shit-fuckity-fuck-fuck-shitty-shit-fuck-fuckity-shit!” Thumping the palms of my hands against the steering wheel, I cry out in frustration.
I want to get home, and this is the last thing I need. When I’ve calmed down somewhat, I weigh up my options. Stay in my car and wait for the rain to stop, and who knows when that will be, or suck it up and change the tyre in the rain. I take a few deep breaths, count myself down, then leap out.
“Ahhhh,” I screech, soaking wet. Realising there’s no point worrying about getting wet given I can’t actually get any wetter, I look up. The road has been carved through the forest, so I’m looking through a gap in the trees to the darkening sky. It’s actually quite breathtaking seeing thousands of droplets streaming down to smack me in the face. Leaning back on the car, I stretch my arms out beside me and close my eyes, allowing the rain to machine gun my body as I lean back into the hard metal and remember being caught in the rain with Ki.
“Too late,” he said, smiling at me, both of us soaking wet.
Placing my hands above my head, I stared up at the dark clouds and smiled as the rain splashed down on my face.
“You’re so beautiful,” Ki said, raising his voice to be heard over the pouring rain.
I dropped my gaze to meet his, and my hands cupped his face. “So are you.”
We stumbled away from the clearing to seek protection under one of the trees. The rain continued to pour down, but the only thing I was aware of was his soft lips on mine and his strong arms encircling my body, claiming me. I never wanted this moment to end.