Deception Page 5

  He walked up the path, smiling. "Sacha." His gaze shifted to Trey and he frowned. "You're the guy from the coffee shop," Harry said. "Sacha, what's going on?"

  Uncomfortably, Sacha felt a flush creep up her neck, but then angry at herself, she said abruptly, "Harry, what are you doing here?" Realizing how harsh she'd sounded, she tempered it with, "Is everything all right?"

  "There's nothing wrong. I had business down here."

  "In Virginia?" she said.

  "Well, DC -- it's not that far." Quickly, he added, "You gave me your address, so I didn't think it would be a problem me showing up here."

  "Listen, Harry, I'm glad to see you, but I don't really think this is the time for a visit."

  "Sorry." Harry compressed his lips. "I should have called."

  Sacha sighed. "Harry, you know I've never mixed my personal life with my professional life."

  Harry gave a quick nod, and she could see he was embarrassed by his blunder. "When he showed up at the coffee shop that day -- I wish you'd told me." He fumbled to a halt.

  "What?"

  "That you were involved."

  "Involved?" She looked at Trey, who raised a brow at her, then back to Harry. "Listen --"

  Quickly, Harry said, "Sorry. I've overstepped my bounds --" He waved a hand and started again. "The reason I stopped is because there's been a change of plans. Your October exhibit has been put off. The Trivia Gallery's sprinkler system malfunctioned, and they've got extensive water damage. I'm trying to set up something with another gallery, but at such short notice, it might not be possible. It's really unfortunate because we need to keep the momentum going."

  "Why not set something up here in town?" Trey said.

  Sacha shot him a glance.

  "It's not as easy as calling someone and showing up," Harry said. "To get a good crowd to show, you need time for publicity to be built up, something that can take weeks or even months."

  "This is a good-sized town," Trey said. "It may be worth your while to check it out." He looked at Sacha. "The town's cultural interests have grown since you've been gone."

  Harry looked interested. "I wonder if it's something I could pull together, Mr. --" he paused.

  "Trey." Trey stepped forward, hand extended. "Trey Montgomery." They shook hands amicably, and to Sacha's eyes, sized each other up at the same time.

  "Harry's right, this takes time," she said. "It's not something that gets slapped together."

  "Let me just think about this," Harry said slowly. "Trey here might have a point. Maybe you should do a small event, the exposure wouldn't hurt. I'll ride back into town and check out the possibilities."

  "I'm not staying that long, and it'll take weeks for something like this to be wrapped up," she snapped. Harry stared at her in surprise. He'd probably never seen her lose her temper before.

  "Katharine," Trey said.

  "Sacha," Harry said.

  "I can't deal with this right now." She went back inside, letting the screen door slam closed behind her.

  "Here! What's all that racket going on? Doors slamming --"

  Resigned, Sacha turned to see Samuel walking down the hallway, pushing his wheel chair before him.

  "It's Trey and Harry."

  "I know the Trey part of it. Explain the other, who's Harry?" Samuel pushed himself forward. Lifting the walking stick hooked across the back of the chair, he used it for support as he walked to where she stood by the door.

  With an exasperated gesture, she pushed her hair off her forehead, waving her hands at the two men outside. "Harry's my agent. He arranges all my showings and my publicity. Apparently he was in the area, so he drove here to update me on some of my showings. Trey mentioned to him about putting together a showing here, which is ridiculous. He has no idea how these things work."

  "Don't be so melodramatic, Kate," Samuel said. "I always thought you should have been an actress, you've a real flair for it."

  Exasperated, she tilted her head, looking at him as she tapped her foot.

  "I think it's a grand idea," he said, just as the front door opened and both men walked inside.

  With a flourish, Sacha indicated Samuel. "Harry, I'd like you to meet Samuel Garner."

  "Her grandfather," Samuel barked out.

  "And this is my business agent, Harry Scotsdale."

  "Hello, young man." Samuel seemed quite cheerful as he leaned on his walking stick and shook hands with Harry.

  Noticing the wary look on her face, Samuel smiled as he motioned Harry toward the office. "Tell me what you do as Kate's business agent."

  Harry looked back at her. "Kate?"

  "Just go with it," she muttered.

  Samuel urged him into the room. "I may have an idea for you."

  Sacha watched the two men before Samuel closed the door. She'd seen the excitement in Samuel's tired eyes, so how could she begrudge him his talk of business?

  She looked over at Trey to find him smiling also. "Do you realize this is only about the second time since he returned from the hospital that he's been out of that room?" He shook his head in amazement. "It's good for him, making plans and getting involved."

  She sighed. "I know. I just hope it doesn't get crazy."

  "Come on, Kat, how crazy could it get?"

  She shrugged. "I guess you're right."

  "So -- were you glad to see Harry?" Trey asked casually, brushing his hair back.

  Frowning, she watched as the hair fell right back onto his forehead, "Sure, though there's no reason he had to drive all the way out here. He could have emailed or texted that the date was off."

  "Seems like maybe he just wanted to see you," Trey murmured suggestively.

  She looked askance at him.

  "You hadn't considered that possibility?" he asked.

  "You don't know what you're talking about," she said. "You hardly know me and you just met Harry. You're crazy."

  "If you'd lower that prickly guard and give me a chance, I could get to know you."

  "I have a prickly guard? How about you?"

  He gave her a crooked smile and it lit up his eyes. "I'm always charming."

  She burst out laughing. "Well, that's the last thing I ever expected to come out of your mouth."

  "See, that's why we should get to know each other. You'd find out I have a great sense of humor."

  "I don't. I have to work at it," she said, half jokingly.

  "Maybe you treat life too seriously."

  "Well, things happen, and there's no way it can be taken other than seriously." She cleared her throat. "Anyway, can you tell Harry I'll catch up with him later if he wants to stay for lunch?"

  "Sure." he cocked a brow. "It will give us time to talk."

  She turned back and regarded him warily. "What does that mean?"

  "You know, guy talk. Football, latest hot stocks --" he smiled.

  Sacha sprinted up the stairs, a smile tugging at her lips. That was evidence of his sense of humor, she supposed.

  Chapter Four

  "What's the problem with putting together a showing, Sacha -- Katharine?" Harry was having a real problem with her name.

  "Harry, just call me Katharine while we're here. It'll create less distraction all around," she advised dryly.

  They sat at the kitchen table in the delightful little kitchen nook for lunch the following day. Harry, who was staying in town, had brought with him two quiches and they'd each had a slice. She played with the gold-edge tag attached to the quiche. Light and delicious, farm fresh eggs, home-made cheese and home-grown asparagus.

  "I still wish you had let me in on this name thing," Harry muttered, lifting the last forkful of quiche to his mouth.

  "What difference would it have made?" She saw the expression on his face, and suddenly recalled what Trey had said about Harry being attracted to her.

  Uncomfortably, Sacha pushed her empty plate away. "I'm sorry, Harry, it just never came up and I didn't think it'd be a problem. For business purposes, I use Sacha. When I wa
s younger I was always in trouble, rebellious. I shed all that -- leaving the old identity behind." She drew a deep breath, then began again. "Harry, I've been as honest as possible with you in all our dealings. I thought that was all that mattered. You've been the best business agent -- if it hadn't been for you --"

  Harry held up his hand, "Please, spare me. If I hadn't come along, you'd have still been a success. It just might have taken a bit longer to make the connections."

  Sacha smiled at him, comfortable with the business side of Harry.

  "Listen, Katharine," he said seriously, "I spent most of the afternoon yesterday scouting out the area. This little town has all the amenities of a bigger city. There's quite a cultural range hereabouts. I'm going to suggest you consider doing a showing at The Little Bird Cafe. It's quite an eclectic shop, and while I was there they did a brisk business."

  "So this is what you and Samuel were cooking up yesterday?"

  "He called the owners and gave me an introduction. I went to see them and they are thrilled at the idea of having you come there for a showing." He indicated the quiche. "This is a sampling of their fare. However, their big claim to fame is due to the unique desserts they create. They actually have a big event coming up in two weeks which they've been publicizing for the better part of the year."

  "Two weeks? Harry, that's not much time --"

  Harry lifted their plates and carried them to the counter. "Think about it. The cancelled showing was to be in three weeks. It would be simple to move it here instead. I'm going back to New York. I can oversee having the selected art shipped here." He pulled out a small notebook and quickly leafed through it. "They've invited you to showcase ten of your pieces. They gave me the name of a company that can handle the lighting and set-up." He looked at her anxiously. "All I need is the go-ahead if you want to do this."

  He flipped the book closed and leaned against the counter.

  She exhaled slowly. Did she want to commit herself to staying longer? The door opened and Trey entered the kitchen, followed by Paula. Paula was dressed in a sundress and high heels. Obviously not riding attire, Sacha thought sourly.

  "Harry, Katharine." Trey's eyes lit up when he saw the quiche.

  "Help yourself, Trey," Harry said, his glance on Paula.

  "Harry," Sacha said, "this is Paula." She looked at the other woman. "Harry is my business agent."

  "Hello, Harry," Paula said. "Trey told me you deal in art and you're based in New York. I absolutely love New York. I haunt the galleries all the time when I visit. We have a lovely apartment in Manhattan."

  Harry smiled. "Perhaps you should look us up the next time you're visiting. Let me give you my card." He hunted around in his wallet, then pulled out his grey and gold card.

  Paula accepted the card. "Lovely."

  "Is Virginia your home base?" Harry asked.

  Paula waved an elegantly manicured hand. "Most of the time." She smiled at Trey. "I look in on Daddy's horses from time to time." Paula looked at Sacha. "Trey said you may be doing a showing in conjunction with The Little Bird's event?"

  "I've been asked." Sacha looked at Harry's expectant face and then at Trey. "I guess we should go ahead with it," she said simply.

  She felt Trey's pleased smile all the way down to her toes.

  "So you and Samuel got what you wanted," she added.

  "Hopefully, so did you." Trey cut a big piece of quiche and placed it on a plate. "Paula?" he asked.

  "No, thanks, I just ate in town. Though I have to admit, their food is just incredible."

  Trey sat down with his plate at the table.

  "If it draws as many people as they expect," Harry said, "you should do well, and you'll be opening a new area for your art. Right in your hometown."

  Paula looked at her. "Yes, how exciting is that? Right in your own hometown, Katharine."

  Sacha stared at Paula, wondering if there was an undertone to what she'd just said. Aware that this was now out of her hands, Sacha felt a tremor of anxiety and her hands began to shake. She hid them under the table.

  #

  The plans for the exhibit created a whirlwind of activity around the house. Arrangements moved full speed ahead, and Sacha knew there was no backing out. Samuel's health seemed to continue on an upswing, and it was easy to see he was excited about the event. Sacha supposed he saw it as a way of keeping her here longer and actually began to worry how he would react when it came time for her to leave. Because she would have to leave eventually. This wasn't where she belonged.

  Knowing Harry, the event wouldn't lack polish since he paid attention to the smallest detail. When she did well, he did well. They had discussed which artwork to present and in the end she decided to bring in one of her most recent collections, which she had entitled "Creation." The abstract art collection showcased rich, bold colors fluidly swirling across the canvas, and indeed to Sacha each painting looked like a burst of new life. Every time she looked at the work, deep emotion curled in her stomach. At times, she still found it hard to believe she was the creator of such art.

  #

  After her early morning jog the following day, Sacha ended as she usually did, taking a walk along the narrow pasture road by the barns. The morning was so quiet, everything pristine. She loved seeing the mist curling along the ground, the sound of the horses running in the otherwise still morning air. It was an exceptionally moving experience for her.

  As she cooled down, she spotted a dark blue sports car once more parked further ahead of her on the grassy verge of the road. Surprisingly, Paula was there and stood talking to the vehicle's lone occupant, whom she could only see from behind.

  As she drew nearer Paula pointed toward her and the car door opened and a man exited the vehicle. She saw unruly red hair.

  "Katharine? It's Brian."

  He walked toward her, their glances met and he came to a standstill, frowning.

  She veered off the path, her heart beating hard and painfully in her chest. She heard Paula's voice, but she ignored both of them. Sweat broke out on her forehead and involuntarily she clenched her hands. Just keep walking, she told herself. Keep walking.

  "Hey -- wait up."

  She clenched the straps of her backpack in her hands and picked up her pace.

  "You'd better talk to me --"

  She broke into a run toward the house. She couldn't stop. If she looked at him or spoke to him, everything would be exposed. Her ears were filled with her own harsh breathing, but distantly, she also heard more voices and hoof beats.

  Her feet took the steps to the verandah. She paused for a split second on the decking, hearing the sound of tires churning and spitting gravel.

  She leaned against the rail, saw the car speed along the grass, then swerve out onto the main road. Trey and several others rode toward the barns on horseback and Paula moved to meet them. Had they seen the car?

  Brian. The ex-whatever.

  Sacha bolted inside, ran up the stairs and into her room. Quickly, she closed the door, locked it and peeled off all her clothes. In her bathroom she turned on the shower as hot as she could stand it.

  She stood under the hot spray, eyes closed, until the water began to run cold.

  #

  Sacha heard the knocking at her door. She wanted to ignore the outside world right now. She had set up the easel in her room, her paints around her, a world that insulated and comforted her. She intended to paint until she couldn't stand anymore. Painting could take her into hours of lost time, zoning out on everything around her. That's what she sought right now. She needed to let the canvas and her paints consume her attention. Her paints never disappointed. If she didn't like her art, she could paint over it and begin again. There was always an opportunity for a fresh, new beginning.

  "Katharine."

  The colors were bold, stark, angry. She stared at the canvas, feeling the emotions she had projected onto the canvas.

  "Katharine, can I come in?" Trey's voice intruded into her concentration. Dazed,
she stared at the bedside table. The clock read 5:00, but she wasn't sure if it was morning or night time.

  She frowned at the canvas. "I'm working."

  "It's important."

  She bit her lip. The picture needed something in the foreground.

  "It won't take long," he said.

  She looked up at the ceiling, felt the stiffness in her neck. She knew of course what he wanted to talk about. Reluctantly, Sacha put down her paintbrush, covered it with plastic. Wiping her hands on a paper towel she rubbed the soreness in her neck as she pulled the door open.

  "Can't this wait?" she said.

  "No. Can I come in?"

  She stepped back. He wore a gray short-sleeved shirt and black pants, black boots on his feet. She knew he'd had a shower because the clean, fresh scent of soap rose from him as he walked past her. His dark hair was neatly brushed back and looked damp. He glanced at her easel, looked around the room. He seemed big in this frilly, girly room.

  He faced her. "You look tired."

  She shrugged.

  "Brian was here," he said. "I guess you knew that based on what Paula told me, that you took off for the house."

  She looked at her painting. "He called out to me, said his name. Why would I stay around to talk to him?"

  He sighed. "Apparently, Paula talked to him for about five minutes before you showed up. Once the boys and I rode into the yard, he took off."

  She tensed, moving away from him toward the window. "You brought me into this."

  "I contacted the authorities -- he had called the other day --"

  She spun to face him. "You knew he was around?"

  "I thought he was still in prison, but he'd been released."

  Sacha rubbed her temples. "I should never have come here."

  Trey came up to her, put a hand on her shoulder. "I warned him to stay away, but now I've got the police involved."

  She shrugged off his hand, ignored the sensation of heat where his hand had gently pressed. "It's a little late."

  "Katharine, I'll do my best to keep you and this farm safe."

  She indicated the canvas. "I need to finish my painting."

  She moved back to her easel. "It needs something more," she muttered. She needed fall leaves against the foreground, blowing about as the wind whipped them into a frenzy. She uncovered the brushes, selected one. She began to paint, losing herself in her art.

  Trey stood a moment by the door, watching her resume her painting, a faraway look on her face. She was right, he had brought her into this, but he'd do his damnedest to keep Brian away.