Excerpt

Topping the rise, Keril saw the lone figure hunched over his canvas, shoulders slumped as if the world rested there. He carried a heavy burden. Kerils heart ached for him. She hurried to catch up with Corby and Sarah.

Dad! Dad! Corby yelled. Keril came with me!

with me-with me-with me, Corbys exultation rang back from the hills. Marsh looked up from his canvas. A leap of Kerils heart disturbed her. This means nothing, she told herself. Ive come for Corby. Thats all. But her heart argued with her as Marsh, a striking figure in painter pants, came toward her, smiling a greeting. A maroon polo shirt accentuated his broad chest. Keril stood motionless, caught by eyes like shaded pools of still water. His disarming presence sharply magnified her awareness that she should not have come.

I see you like flowers, he observed. I hope you like Ruebens, too.

I love them, she said.

Ruebens or flowers? he teased. His broad grin brought sunlight into the shaded pools.

Both, she said, laughing. His relaxed manner eased her tension.

Here, Ill give them some water to keep them fresh. He took the flowers from her hand. His fingers, accidentally brushing hers, sent a rush of pleasure up her arm that she tried to ignore. She wondered if Marsh sensed her reaction to his touch. He knelt by the creek, scraping out a dam of mud beneath a willow, creating an earthen vessel filled with water that would cover the flowers roots but prevent them washing downstream.

Well, Im hungry. Lets eat, he suggested, patting his stomach. Corby, you bring the lemonade. He opened a wicker basket waiting in the shade of a mammoth maple, limbs hosting green leaves blending into a vivid lime. He shook folds from a red-checkered tablecloth printed with black and white cows. Im glad you could come, he said. Corbys been after me all morning to invite you.

So it wasnt his request after all that brought her here, but only the desire to please his son. Vaguely disappointed, yet more relaxed, Keril held out the bag of cookies. I brought some dessert.

Yeah, Dad! Peanut butter cookies! Corby added.

Great! Marsh replied. Dont forget Sarahs, he prompted.

Oh, yeah! Corby reached into his jean pocket and pulled out a cellophane bag with two dog biscuits inside. Here, Sarah, I brought these for you. You can have one now and the other later. He handed a biscuit to Sarah, who took it gingerly from his hand.

Corby and I love Ruebens, Marsh said. Thats one thing Im good at making. He spread the cloth with Kerils help and together they emptied the basket. Chips, dills, and tomatoes, he added. Miniatures, he explained, giving her one the size of a grape.

She popped it into her mouth. Umm! Good!

The corned beef teased Sarahs nostrils, spoiling her appetite for her biscuit.

No, Sarah! Keril admonished when her pet approached the cloth, but the collie ignored her command.

Stay! Marsh ordered in a gentle tone. Keril was surprised when Sara obeyed, flopping down to crunch with disinterest on the biscuit while Marsh asked Gods blessing on the food.

After the lunch, Marsh returned to his easel with Corby and Sarah posing a few yards away. Sarah once again surprised Keril by sitting quietly on her haunches at Corbys direction, lifting her face to his in an adoring gaze while he stroked her ruff. Marsh filled in his painting quickly with preliminary sketching.

Okay, Corby, thats all today, he said. You and Sarah can relax now. Keril knew she should follow her former intentions and return home, but Marshs work held her interest. Rapidly mixing colors, he painted while she sat in the shade of the maple. The canvas came alive with sun and sky and drifting clouds, amazing Keril that so inanimate an object could portray such movement. The clouds looked as if a soft wind would send them scudding right off the edge of the canvas.

Marsh seemed lost in his art. He evidently could forget his fate for a while as he created beauty with his talent. Here he could be in control, orchestrating things the way he wished them to be. Keril empathized. Her writing served her in the same way, becoming a temporary escape into a world of peace and order.

Downstream, wearing wading boots, Corby splashed in the creek with Sarah, overturning rocks in a vigilant search for crayfish. The intoxicating warmth of caressing wind gave Keril a feeling of perpetuity, as if she herself were a part of Marshs painting, set in time, captured by the beauty of the moment. Her heart yearned for Marsh and Corbys happiness and for her own. It felt so good here. God had indeed allowed her a moment of relief from her burden.

Closing her eyes, she imagined being part of a family again. The picture was a good one: a man, a woman, a small boy and a dog, serenity and satisfaction. Her musings unearthed grief over Vance and the lingering regret of never having a child that would have been a token of their physical and spiritual love.

Restlessness stirred in Keril, a deep, aching longing for the past. A treacherous thought crept into her soul, insidiously, like a thief unawares, intent on stealing away her moment of peace.

What would it be like to be Douglas Marshalls wife and to mother his son? Madge Raymers face intruded abruptly on her daughters daydreams, almost as if she had read her thoughts and came swiftly to the rescue. Her concerned warning of the night before etched itself on Kerils mind, much like the finger of God writing a warning on Belshazzars wall. Keep a watch over your soul.

Keril scrambled to her feet, tranquility shaken by the unbidden thoughts and chafing of guilt. Her face flushed and burning, she folded the blanket Marsh had spread for her. She should have left long ago.