Beginnings (6 page)

He removed his coat and his boots, leaving the wet boots beside the door, and walked on stocking feet to the storage cabinet. He reached for the drawer that contained the copper foil, but he didn’t open it. His gaze shifted to the drawer where Beth had put her drawing for McCauley’s window.

Curiosity shifted him two drawers to the left. Feeling like an intruder, he slid the drawer open slowly. The sketch tablet came into view, showing Beth’s drawing by inches. He kept sliding until the entire design was revealed. At first glance, it reminded him of looking into a kaleidoscope. Almost a starburst pattern. He lifted it out and held it at arm’s length, examining it. He scowled. Although the design was pleasing in balance, something was missing.

Propping it on the cabinet, he took a step back, pulling his lips to the side in contemplation as he allowed his focus to shift from the center to the outward edges. He snapped his fingers, recognizing the problem.

Snatching up the pad, he tore Beth’s sheet loose and dropped it on the worktable. He placed the pad with its clean top sheet next to her drawing. Looking back and forth from her design to the page in front of him, he began to draw.

“This is beautiful, Beth.” Marilyn Fox, owner of the Wichita gallery, sent Beth a huge smile. “I’m sure the interest in this piece will be high.”

Beth released the breath she’d been holding. It came out with a light giggle. “Oh, I’m so relieved. This is still so new to me.”

“It won’t be new for long,” Marilyn predicted, giving Beth’s shoulder a squeeze.

Beth nodded, thinking of the contract in the passenger seat of her car. If she ended up working with McCauley Church Construction, she would be thrown into the world of stained-glass art. Her pulse accelerated at the thought.

“Well, let’s talk about your next piece for us, shall we?”

The words captured Beth’s attention, and she jerked her gaze from the cardinal scene to the smiling gallery owner. “But this one hasn’t even sold yet.”

“Oh, it will.” Her arm still around Beth’s shoulders, she herded Beth into her small, cluttered office at the rear of the store. “I’ve been in the business long enough to recognize the keepers. And you, Beth, are a keeper.” The woman’s arched brows rose with her words of praise.

Beth twisted her fingers together. “I really appreciate your vote of confidence,” she said, hoping her tone didn’t sound as uncertain as she felt, “but I’m not sure I have the time to do another commissioned piece right now.”

Marilyn sank into the chair behind her desk. Resting her elbows on the arms of the chair, she made a steeple of her fingers and stared at Beth. “Oh?”

“No.” Beth stood on the opposite side of the desk, seeking an explanation that wouldn’t divulge the possibility with McCauley’s. She wasn’t sure she should speak of it until it was final, but if she signed that contract, her time would be wrapped up in the large window. She latched onto the only certainty. “I am in the middle of making several small pieces for a crafts fair which is coming up quickly, and—”

Marilyn waved a manicured hand. “Beth, that little stuff is fine for someone who dabbles. But you are an artist. You can’t afford to dabble.”

In doubt about how to respond, Beth remained silent.

“Let someone else do the little stuff if you still want to have things in craft fairs.” Marilyn raised one brow. “Didn’t you say you had a man helping?”

Beth nodded. “Yes, and he’s quite capable, but—”

“Then let him fry the small fish, and you work on reeling in the whale.” Marilyn shook her head, her chandelier earrings catching the light. “Really, Beth, you have the talent to go far as an artist. The question is do you have the drive?”

“Of course I do.” Beth’s reply came automatically.

Marilyn’s smile grew. “Good. Then let’s talk about the second piece.” She pointed to a plastic chair in the corner.

Beth dragged the chair to the desk and sat down. An hour later, Beth had in hand a one-page contract for a second commissioned design that would feature a cardinal on a lilac bush. Ideas for that scene competed with the image of the window for McCauley’s as she drove back to Sommerfeld, and worry made her clench the steering wheel so hard her fingers ached.

“God, have I gotten myself in over my head?” She spoke aloud, feeling comfortable sharing her thoughts in the privacy of the vehicle. She sucked in a breath of apprehension. “Should I have prayed before agreeing to a second commissioned piece?” Marilyn had seemed so certain it was the right thing to do, and Beth did want to use the talent God had given her. How often should she seek the Lord’s guidance in these decisions? Uncertainty made her heart race. “Oh, I hope I did the right thing.”

She continued to stew the remainder of the drive, but by the time she pulled behind the studio, she had calmed herself with the reminder that she wasn’t working alone. Andrew was helping. As Marilyn had said, if he assumed responsibility for the little things, it would free her to focus on the larger projects.

Although she had changed back into her suit for the trip to the gallery and it wasn’t appropriate for the studio, she couldn’t resist pulling in to see how much progress Andrew had made with the suncatchers during her nearly five-hour leave of absence.

She hop-skipped through the slushy snow to the back stoop and stepped inside. When she entered the studio, she saw Andrew at the worktable and smiled. But when she spotted the loose pieces of glass still scattered across the wood surface, her smile faded.

Andrew’s head jerked up. “Beth...” His cheeks blotched red. He slapped a drawing pad upside down, creating a current that sent a single sheet scooting from the table. Beth walked over and picked up the paper. Her scowl deepened when she recognized the drawing she’d made that morning.

She looked at him, suspicion creating a sour taste in her mouth. “What are you doing?” Looking pointedly at the unconstructed suncatcher pieces, she added, “Obviously not what I had anticipated.”

Andrew raised his shoulders in a sheepish gesture. “I guess I lost track of time.”

Beth released a little huff. “So what are you doing?”

When he didn’t answer, she held out her hand. After a moment’s hesitation, Andrew slid the pad of paper across the table to her. She turned it over, and her jaw dropped.

“You’re reworking my design?” Who did he think he was, sitting here doodling on something that didn’t concern him rather than completing the work she’d assigned?

“Well, I looked at yours, and it seemed like something was missing—the depth just wasn’t there. So I thought—”

“So you thought you’d fix it, huh?” Her voice squeaked out two decibels higher than normal. Slapping the pad onto the table, she glared at him. “I can’t believe this! I leave you with a simple task: finish some suncatchers. And instead you spend the day working on a design that I fully intended to complete when I returned. This was a rough draft!” She waved the drawing. “You knew that! So why mess with it?”

Andrew opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Beth’s anger burned hotter with his lack of explanation. “Andrew, I trusted you to work on these.” Her hand quivered as she pointed to the glass wedges on the tabletop. “And you let me down. If I can’t trust you, then...” She didn’t complete the thought, but she knew by the way Andrew’s face went white that he understood the unspoken threat.

Shaking her head, she crushed her drawing and the pad holding his drawing to her coat front. “I’m going home now. I need to talk to Mom and Henry. I need to ... think. You”—she backed toward the door, taking the drawings with her—“just lock up and go home.”

SIX

Beth pulled behind the simple, ranch-style house her mother and stepfather shared, turned off the ignition, and took a deep breath to calm her rattled nerves. Finding Andrew fiddling with her design had brought a dizzying sense of déjà vu followed by a wave of panic. She could not allow another man to sabotage her plans!

Peering through the car’s window, she focused on the concrete foundation that would eventually support the two rooms Henry was adding to the west side of the house. She remembered his elation when Mom told them the doctor had detected two heartbeats. Henry’s laughter echoed in her memory along with his joyous comment, “Well, Marie, we hoped to be blessed with two children. I just didn’t expect to have both blessings at once!” He had immediately begun planning the addition so each of the new family members would have their own space.

Suddenly the concrete slab wavered, and Beth realized tears swam in her eyes. She brushed them away impatiently. What was wrong with her, sitting here getting all teary? Tired. That’s all. She was tired from her long days at the studio. And they didn’t promise to get shorter.

With a sigh, she snatched up the contract Sean McCauley had left and stepped out of her car. Henry had apparently put a snow shovel to work—the walkway was clear—so her feet stayed dry as she walked to the back porch. Although Henry had encouraged her to forgo knocking and just walk in, she didn’t feel comfortable doing it. This wasn’t her home. She tapped on the door and waited for an answer.

Mom’s smiling face appeared in the window before the door swung wide. “Honey!” Mom tugged her across the threshold and delivered a hug made awkward by her bulky front. “I was hoping you’d stop by. Andrew said you finished the cardinal piece and it was beautiful. Did you bring it with you so I can see it?”

Beth pushed the door shut behind her, twisting her lips into a scowl. “No, I didn’t even think about bringing it by. But I took some digital pictures. I’ll show you after I get them downloaded.”

Mom sighed, feigning a quick pout before flashing a grin. “Well, I guess that will have to do.” Then she linked arms with Beth. “Come on in, then, and talk to me while I finish dinner. Do you want to stay?”

Beth sagged into a chair, plopping the contract onto the little table tucked into the corner of the kitchen. “I have something I need to talk to you and Henry about, so that’d be great. Thanks.” She pushed her coat from her shoulders, allowing it to droop over the chair back, and watched her mother putter around the modest kitchen.

Her mother had changed so much since they’d left Cheyenne, there were still times when Beth did a double take. Home-sewn dresses instead of jeans and a button-up shirt; hair pulled into a bun beneath a white cap trailing black ribbons instead of tousled, loose curls; and a relaxed countenance rather than the lines of tension she’d often worn around her eyes and mouth. Returning to her childhood home had been good for Mom.

“So what did you do today since the cardinal piece was done?” Mom stirred something in an iron skillet on the stove, and the scent of peppers and onions filled the room.

“Drove to Wichita to deliver it.” Beth sniffed, and her stomach turned over in eagerness. “And commissioned a second piece, this time with the cardinal in a lilac bush.”

Mom sent a quick glance over her shoulder, her eyebrows high. “A second piece? That’s great! A lilac bush. With those tiny flowers, that should be a challenge.”

Beth flicked the stack of pages on the table with her thumbnail. “I’ll probably find a piece of mottled lavender glass, maybe with some texture, to emulate the petals. I’ll have to play around with it.” She hoped she’d have time to play around with it.

“Sounds fun.” Mom slipped a lid on the skillet and waddled to the sink. The added girth around her middle stole her usual grace, and her ankles seemed thick.

Beth frowned. “Are your feet swollen?”

Mom tipped forward, tucking her skirt against the underside of her extended belly to look at her own feet. She straightened with a soft laugh. “Oh, that’s not so bad. Sometimes my ankles seem to disappear, and my toes stick out in all directions.”

A stab of worry struck. “Did you do that when you were carrying me?”

Mom paused for a moment, sending Beth a crinkly smile. “Now, honey, you have to remember I’ve aged a bit since you were born.”

Despite herself, Beth smiled. Never would she have imagined becoming a big sister at twenty-one. She teased, “Yes, I guess it’s a good thing you have all your brothers and sisters, Henry’s brothers and sister, plus their assorted offspring to give you a hand.”

Mom tipped her head, one black ribbon trailing down her neck. “And you?”

Beth shrugged, looking at the contract. A band seemed to constrict her heart. “With all of them, you don’t really need me.”

A hand descended on Beth’s shoulder, bringing her attention around. “Beth, you realize these babies can never replace you, don’t you?”

The tenderness in Mom’s eyes brought the sting of tears. Beth sucked in her lips, gaining control, before she answered. “It’s just that everything is so different, Mom. So many changes ... Sometimes it’s hard to stay on top of it all.”

Mom went back to the stove, turned the dial, and joined Beth at the table. She took Beth’s hand, stroking her knuckles with her thumb. “You realize you don’t have to stay on top of it all alone, don’t you? You can ask God for help, and He’ll answer every time. As for other helpers, you have Henry and me, and Andrew.”

At Andrew’s name, an image of him hunkered over the worktable, redoing her drawing instead of constructing suncatchers, flashed through Beth’s mind. She jerked her hand free.

Mom frowned. “Beth?”

Beth shook her head. “I appreciate having you and Henry, and of course I know God is there for me. I’m still learning how to lean on Him, but I do know He’s there. But as for Andrew...” She puffed her cheeks and blew out a breath. “I must not be a very good judge of character when it comes to men. They let me down every time.”