Chapter Fifteen
Bethany
The next morning, I stayed hidden in my room until I heard all the Hutchinsons leave the house to go to their jobs. They were a noisy bunch, with heavy bootsteps and resonating voices. With the slam of the door, I peered out my bedroom window and watched as Tom and William drove away in their trucks. Brett and Travis headed out to the fields, and Colton strode across the grounds to his office by the stable.
Certain I was safe, I finally crept out of my room and into the barn, stopping in the kitchen to grab one of Margie's homemade biscuits for breakfast. In the barn, I took my stack of completed paintings and lined them up in a long row along the wall so the images faced me like a gallery.
I stared at each painting one by one, soaking in the images, comparing and contrasting them as I tried to decide what to do for the last one. It was bittersweet to think about.
I took great pride in the work I had done. This was my first commissioned job as a professional artist, and I'd managed to create four unique paintings that realistically portrayed the ranch where my customer's sons had been raised. It was easy to understand why they loved this place so much, and now they would each have a painting of home, no matter the future held. It was a good feeling, and I was glad to have been a part of it. I just wished it didn't have to come to an end.
"Why so melancholy?" a familiar voice asked, and I looked over to see Frank Hill standing in the doorway of the barn holding a shovel.
"Dad, come on in," I called to him with a smile. He set down his shovel and entered the barn, where we hugged each other awkwardly.
"Everything okay? You look blue."
"I was just thinking how much I was going to miss this place."
"Oh sure, what city girl wouldn't miss the manure, the mud, and the flies," Frank joked light heartedly.
"I'm serious. I may have grown up on the cement sidewalks, but I much prefer the feel of soil under my feet. The skies here are so blue, and the air is so clean," I said, and I meant it. Looking at Frank thoughtfully, I asked him "What made you move out here?"
"Well, you know I was just a coward hiding from life, but this place did have a lot of appeal. The cooking beats the hell out of fast food in the city. And, I like the animals, riding horses and driving herds. It comes natural to me. I guess I'm better with animals than people."
"I guess I am, too," I said with a wry smile. "I was always lonely in the city. Even though I was surrounded by people, I always felt isolated. It's why I turned to art as a way to express my emotions, since I couldn't talk to anybody. When I got out here, for some reason I just fit right in."
He nodded like he understood exactly what I meant. Speaking in a soft voice, I asked him "Do you think I could stay here?"
"In the barn?" Frank misunderstood. I stifled a laugh.
"No, in Riverbend. I love it out here so much. I'm so comfortable, not like living in the city."
"We talked about this. If you give up your career as an artist just to be with Colton, eventually you'll end up resenting him for it. Believe me, you love each other now, but that can't last if you give up being who you really are. You're meant to be an artist."
"I know, but who's to say I have to live in the city to that? After all, I got this job making paintings for the Hutchinsons. Surely there's more work around here that I could do. Maybe even enough to rent a small place in Riverbend. Colton and I could see each other in the evenings and on weekends, and I could still have a career as an artist."
"Not unless you plan on painting barns and chicken coops. Even then, you might have to live in them, ‘cause that kind of work ain't gonna last you through the winter." Frank chuckled, and I knew he was right.
"Well, maybe I could do something else, like teach art," I said hopefully. "Tom teaches at the middle school. Maybe they have a job opening there, or at another school. Or maybe I could give private lessons."
"I don't think a lot of folks out here are looking to hire a private art tutor, but you may be able to get a regular job working as a cashier at the market or something and just paint on the side. If you think you could be happy that way, but I doubt it."
I knew Frank was right. I didn't work my ass off to get an art degree just to be a cashier. I wanted to be an artist, and I was talented enough to get an internship, which meant I was talented enough to sell my work. I just had to be patient enough to find jobs like the one I'd gotten working for Margie – and they might be few and far between. Perhaps the secret was to have a cheaper cost of living that would allow me get by between jobs.
Looking at Frank, I thrust my hands behind my back so he wouldn't see them shaking, and asked, "Could I stay with you?"
"You mean live with me in my cabin?"
"Sure. I know it's small, but I don't take up much room. I just need a trundle bed that I could fold away each morning. I'll do all your cooking and cleaning, and we could really get to know each other as father and daughter. It could be great."
"It could be a disaster. Two adults crammed into a cabin that small, we'd drive each other crazy in under a week," he said, and I felt tears of disappointment well up in my eyes.
Stubbornly, I refused to let them fall. But it was too late, Frank had already seen the emotion in my eyes. Taking my hand in his rough ones, he looked me deep in the eyes and said, "He really means that much to you?"
"He does," I said.
"Well, I'm sorry, sweetheart, but you can't stay with me. I'm leaving at the end of the summer."
"You never told me that." I was stunned.
"Well, I didn't see any point. You were leaving first. I was going to finish out the season and then move on to a farm down south, where there's more work in the winter. If I get there in the fall, I can get onto a ranch before all the slots fill up and be set for the off season."
"I see." I swallowed against the lump in my throat.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't want you to feel like I was abandoning you again, but I've got to go where the work is. And since you were going back to Chicago, I didn't think it mattered."
"It's okay. I understand," I said – and burst into tears, finally giving into the emotion that was overwhelming me.
Frank held me tight, patting my back awkwardly as he tried to soothe me. "It'll be okay. You're young, beautiful, smart, and talented as hell. There will be guys lining up around the block to be with you. You'll forget that Colton in no time.
“And, we'll still see each other. We've got email, texting, and I'll give you my address as soon as I get settled in, we can mail each other Christmas presents and birthday cards."
"Thanks, Dad, but I don't need anything from you like that. I'm just glad I got to know you, and I don't want to lose you."
"You won't, sweetheart, not ever again."
He released me from his embrace, and I wiped at my wet cheeks with the back of my hand.
"Here, take this." Frank reached into his pocket for a handkerchief and a bunch of things fell out with it, scattering on the ground.
"Crap!" he muttered and rushed to pick it all up. I crouched on the ground beside him.
"Let me help. What's this?" I picked up the questionable item and held it between my thumb and forefinger.
"Hand-rolled cigarettes." He snatched it from my hand and stuck it between his lips. Talking from the side of his mouth, he said "They're cheaper if you roll your own. Don't worry, it's not weed or anything. My father used to hand-roll his cigarettes, and so I do, too."
"That's something I never would have known about my grandfather if we'd never met," I said with a smile.
I was starting to feel better from my emotional meltdown, if not a little silly. Talking to Frank helped squelch my embarrassment, and I liked learning about my family history. Mom never talked about it, but Frank loved to, and I enjoyed listening to him.
I watched as him reached into his other pocket and pulled out a lighter. It was silver metal with a bird etched into the side. He lit his cigarette with it and then tossed it to me.
"That was your grandfather's, too. About the only thing I got from him when he died. His damn new wife got all the rest. That's why you've got to take what the world owes you when you can. Don't let yourself be blindsided by love because it doesn't always last. Get yourself a good career where you can make your own money and you don't have to rely on anybody else to take care of you.
“Don't make the same mistakes your mother and I made. No matter how great a guy Colton seems to be, he's still a guy. Take it from me, the sooner you go back to Chicago, the better off you'll be."
"You think so, but you don't know him like I do. You don't even know me." I took offense to his words, but what he said next softened my heart and changed my mind.
"I wasn't there for you when you were growing up like I should have been, but let me give you some advice now as a man who knows the harsh realities of life.
“Go home to Chicago where you belong. This family isn't your family. They're just looking to get everything they can out of you and then they'll toss you aside. They're bonded to each other, and you and I are just strangers who work for them.
“You have a family and a life in Chicago. Your mother, your internship, your friends, and your art. And, now you have me, too. I'll call and write every week and even visit when I can.
“Listen to your father and go back home to Chicago where you belong. You won't regret it, but if you stay here, you surely will."