heard all of this before. Adele had always been supportive of her career, especially during the darkest moment in her life after her mother died when Vanessa was only sixteen, but she also constantly reminded her there was more to the world than her beloved brushes and paints.
“Art is my life, Adele. It’s what got me through the pain and the heartache last time.” She pulled in a deep breath, but her eyes filled again. “I’m counting on it to help me again.... Oh, how am I going to...”
Adele tightened her hold. “Please, don’t be sad...for too long. We’ve talked about this. That’s why I insisted we finish our list. I want you to go out there and experience all the things we’ve dreamed about. I want you to put check marks by every single one of those items.”
The fact that her friend was spending her last days thinking of her made the constant ache inside Vanessa fracture a bit more, sending icy tentacles deeper and further, their frozen tips scraping at her heart. The feeling was a familiar one, felt for the first time since almost a decade ago.
The time from her mother’s diagnosis to her death had been less than eight months, barely any time for them—her or her parents—to come to terms with the illness that would take her life. While her father had thrown himself into his work after the funeral, Vanessa had done the same, her art allowing her a way to express her pain and grief.
Back then she’d poured all her fears onto the canvas in the back of her mind, she too worried that she might die young. Though genetic testing reassured her she was unlikely to develop the same disease, and her time in her studio produced magnificent pieces of abstract art that made her famous, for years, Vanessa had been unable to shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen to her.
She’d never dreamed it would be the loss of her best friend.
It was Adele who’d helped her pick out a prom dress, who came to visit her at art school, who got her to laugh again when the someone she’d thought was her true love had broken her heart. Even more than her father, Adele and her mother, Susan, had become Vanessa’s lifeline. They’d been there for every birthday, every holiday and now...
“Come on...promise me.”
Adele started to cough and quickly shoved the oxygen mask back into place. Vanessa shot to her feet and bracing herself on the bed, gently laid her hand over her friend’s, making sure the device was working properly. “Hey, take it easy.”
Adele held up her hand, fingers curled in a fist except for the last, her pinky finger extended into a hook. She looked up, her deep green eyes locking with Vanessa’s. “A solemn vow between best friends.”
Vanessa saw a lifetime bond that went beyond friendship in her friend’s gaze. Adele was the sister she’d never had. They knew each other’s secrets, fears and dreams. They’d shared late night whispers, dried each other’s tears and laughed together more times than she could count. “You make it sound like this is my last chance to have a life.”
“No, but maybe it’s a second chance. How many do you think we get? Just promise you’ll work hard to be happy...to fulfill our list.”
Vanessa wrapped her pinky finger around her friend’s and dropped her forehead to rest against Adele’s as both squeezed tight and held on. “I promise.”
Present Day Rust Creek Falls, Montana
Vanessa wasn’t sure she’d heard Nate Crawford correctly.
A rushing noise that reminded her of the crazy bumper-to-bumper traffic on Philadelphia’s Schuylkill Expressway filled her ears, except it was the beautiful mountain scenery around her that went a bit hazy as she choked down a mouthful of hot tea. Blinking hard, she focused on the disposable cup in her hand, noticing for the first time she’d grabbed two different flavored tea bags which explained the chocolatey-orange taste burning her tongue.
Even though she’d remembered arriving early enough for this morning’s meeting to grab some refreshment at the canteen here on the job site—not to mention watching the breathtaking Montana sunrise through the two-story, floor-to-ceiling windows that filled the back wall—maybe it had all been a figment of her imagination.
Maybe she was still tucked beneath her goose-down comforter in that amazingly oversize Davy Crockett–style bed in her cabin, dreaming...
“Are you all right?” Nate asked, getting her attention. She looked up in time to see him rock back on his heels, a slight frown on his handsome face. He then glanced at his fiancée, Callie Kennedy, a nurse who helped run the local clinic, who’d placed a hand on his arm.
“Yes,” she gasped, “yes, I’m fine.”
No, that was a lie. Vanessa was definitely not fine despite the fact she stood in the cavernous lobby and main entertaining space of a log mansion that Nate, a local businessman and member of one of the town’s founding families, was converting into a year-round resort.
The gorgeous view of the Montana wilderness was at her back while a stone fireplace big enough to stand in filled the opposite wall. And then there were the rest of the walls. All empty. Her gaze honed in on one of them—freshly painted if the scent tickling her nose meant anything, above the oversize, hand-hewed, carved desk where guests would check in once the resort officially opened.
“You want to hire me—” Vanessa asked, knowing she had to hear the words again. “—to do what?”
“Paint a mural,” Nate repeated, gesturing at the large blank space. “I thought it would be a great tribute to the people and places that mean so much to this town, to Montana. Rust Creek Falls has a connected history with both Thunder Canyon and Whitehorn and I’d like see all three towns honored here at the resort.”
Her gaze followed, trying to see the vision the man’s words created, but nothing came to her artist eye. Zero. Zilch. Her stomach cramped at the now conditioned sensation. How many times had she experienced that same feeling over the past year?
“I think he surprised you, didn’t he?” Callie asked.
“Ah, yes.” Vanessa glanced down at her cup again. “Maybe I should’ve gotten something a bit stronger to ensure I was fully awake for this.”
“And maybe we shouldn’t have asked you to meet us here so early, but we both have to be down in Kalispell for most of the day. Nate didn’t want to wait, and you did say—”
“Ah, no, early is fine. I’m usually up before the sun, anyway.” Looking up at her friend, she waved off Callie’s concern. “But I’m still a bit confused. You’re asking me to do this because...”
“Because I was quite amazed.” Nate paused and took a step closer, his head bent low even though the three of them were the only ones around, “and pleased when I found out the Vanessa Brent who’s running an afterschool art program at the community center and V. E. Brent, world-famous abstract expressionism artist, were one and the same.”
Nate’s soft-spoken words took her completely by surprise.
Not that she went out of her way to hide who she was or what she did with her life before moving to Rust Creek Falls back in July. When asked, she’d only said she’d worked in the creative arts, but was currently on a time-out,
