The Art of Love (The Windswept Saga) (8 page)

BOOK: The Art of Love (The Windswept Saga)
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Chandler brushed Max’s russet bangs away from his forehead.  “It’s not so bad.  You get to spend all that time with Grandpa Chase and Grandpa Sam.  I’d much rather be with them than stuck behind a desk.”  He tickled Max on the back and his small nose scrunched up.  He resisted the urge but eventually gave in, and they laughed together.  Taylor covered her mouth, stifling her own giggles, but so uplifted by the scene that she felt normal for just a moment.

“I guess,” Max relented.  “
And I get to hang out with Matt.”

“See?  That’s not s
o bad at all.”  He lifted Max up to eye level.  “Give me a little kiss here on the cheek.”  Max’s small lips hit the side of his face and they laughed, again.  “Go play with your cousins, Junior.  Later on I’ll dig you up a snack.” 

Set on his feet, Max l
ooked up at them and smiled.  “Goodbye, Miss Taylor.”

“Goodbye, handsome,” she replied, and gave him a sly wink.  He reddened, froze for a second, and then was gone like a blur.

“I think you just made a friend,” Chandler posited.  “Congrats.”

Taylor shook
her head and gave him a tight smile.  “You are amazing.  I’ve never seen a man, who is without kids, be so natural with them.  How do you do that?”

He shrugged.  “Just dumb luck.  I think a lot of those kids, though, and their parents, so that helps.”
 

Long after Taylor had gone home for the evening and Alison had corralled the kids and herded them back to the ranch, Chandler wondered if he’d might the right decision.  He could’ve told her all about his desire to be a father, or the extensive study he’d
done in regard to childhood development and therapies, none of which was a substitute for the hands-on experience provided by his niece and nephews.  No, there’d be plenty of time for all of that. 

Provided he didn’t screw it up again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 6

Taylor woke up early Saturday morning, in a concerted effort to get there before anyone else.  She slipped into her best red dress, which showed a lot of leg but was otherwise modest.  She parted her long hair to the left, pulling the strands into a loose clasp at the nape of her neck.  She checked herself in the mirror, wished her mother goodbye for a while, and headed to work.

She found Chandler in his
office, covered in a navy suit and French blue shirt, each of which brought out the stunning hue of his eyes. His standard white hat was nowhere in sight and his short blonde locks were glossy and pushed toward the sky.  A striped tie hung around his neck, and he looked uncharacteristically nervous as he stood there, greeting her with an uneasy smile.  His face turned hopeful and she couldn’t help but feel a stirring of love for him.  In some ways he was different, vastly different from the boy she’d dated in those halcyon days; and in others he was as unchanged as if he’d been frozen in a block of ice.

“I know it
’s not in your job description but do you think you could help me with this tie?  I can’t seem to get my hands to work today.”

“Sure,” she replied quickly.  She drew close to him and swallowed hard as her fingers took the two ends and looped them together.
  She was close enough to smell his aftershave, his cologne, and a hint of lotion.  None of it was unpleasant, and when she smoothed the tie against his chest she felt the pounding of his heart.

“You’re
pretty good at that,” he complimented, feeling stupid afterward.

She nodded but didn’t glance up to meet his eyes, fearing what she’d see there.  “I used to do Liam’s every morning before work.  I got to where I could fix a necktie in my sleep, should the need ever arise.”

Taylor heard the nervous gasp escape his throat, shook it off.  “You know what this reminds me of?” he asked humorously.

“Prom,” she replied, accurately gauging his thoughts.  “When I pinned that tiger lily to your lapel and drew blood from my finger, I figured I’d pass out.”  She laughed.
“Kind of ironic that I wound up working in a hospital.”

“I kissed the pain away,” he reminded her.

“Uh-huh.”  She stepped back and took a look at him—altogether, an appealing package—and smiled faintly.  “You did do that.”

He dropped his head and stared
at the floor.  “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Taylor.  Sometimes I forget my boundaries.”

Taylor raised her hand to stop him.  “Those are good memories.  It’s the bad ones you have to worry about.”

“I have a few of those myself.”  Chandler cleared his throat, and the air.  “You nervous about today?”

“Not really.”  Taylor arched her right eyebrow at him.  “After all, you’re the man in charge.” 

Chandler grinned and watched her walk into the gallery. He let out a deep breath, prepping himself one last time for what he hoped would be an onslaught of well-wishers.

Taylor experienced another memory of the past when Chase and Bryn arrived at the gallery.  Bryn handed off to Chase what appeared to be a mountain of food and pulled her into a hug
.  After Joseph’s death, Bryn had prepared enough food to last the Holts for a month, and Taylor had never forgotten it.  They’d allowed her and Alice into their home as guests, and even helped with the funeral planning.  In short, they’d been Godsends at a time when Taylor had felt utterly, completely lost and alone, even with Chandler so steady at her side.  Leaving him, and ending their relationship, had also meant severing ties with Chase and Bryn.  And if they’d ever held that against her, it didn’t seem to show on this day, when they nearly squeezed the stuffing out of her.

Chase looked the place up and down, examined the walls and the paintings quietly before returning his attention to Taylor.  “It looks like you’ve been a big help to Chandler,” he said gratefully.
“I know he’s appreciative.  We all are.”

Taylor watched as Bryn worked to set up the food—who needed a caterer when she was your mother?  Gradually she was joined by Susan, and Sam after he’d finished inspecting Alison’s store.  She looked back at Chase a
nd wondered what was going on behind his eyes.  He was still a handsome man, his hair a brilliant, windswept silver.  Would Chandler be so handsome at that age?  Would she be around to find out?  “I’m the grateful one, Mr. Adams.  This job is absolutely what I needed.”

Chase nodded.  “I know you had to go on and live your own life, and we respect that.  You were missed around here, though.  Chandler was always a good kid but when he dated you, he didn’t dare step a toe out of line
—the thought of being punished, reprimanded, and not being able to see you damned near made him crazy.  In a good way, I mean.”  He smiled and cleared his throat.  “Sorry about that.  Old memories can be painful to dredge up.  I have so many of the kids together, Chandler and Mark thick as thieves from the beginning, then the two of you almost inseparable.”

Taylor smiled wistfully.  “Chandler was there for me at one of the most painful times in my life, and I will always be grateful for that.  I love my mother, but I would have been
lost without him, without all of you.”

Bryn rejoined the conversation and smiled affectionately at Taylor.  “He’s not boring you with old ranching stories, is he, sweetheart?  I can’t leave him alone.”

Chase wrapped an arm around Bryn and kissed the top of her head.  “Together for nearly thirty-five years and still trying to boss me around.”  He laughed roughly.  “Someday you’ll learn.”

Bryn winked at Taylor.  “Why don’t you go find your son, Chase?  Make sure he’s eaten something this morning.  He never co
uld eat when he got nervous.”

He kissed Bryn’s ear and nodded.  “Yes, ma’am.”  He took his leave and Bryn leaned against the counter, whispering to Taylor conspiratorially. 

“Funny how quickly I turned that in my favor.”  Taylor laughed softly.  “He’s nervous, isn’t he?”

She nodded, maybe a little too certain.  “You know how he is, Miss Bryn.  You did raise him.  He puts on that hard shell but you c
an read it all over his face.”  She waved a hand around for emphasis.  “We’ve spent much of this week coordinating the grand opening and I can promise you that I have his back.  I’ve come to care a lot about this place in a very short time.”

Bryn looked away and one eyebrow shot upward.  She was well-aware of Taylor’s feelings because, despite her obvious mate
rnal bias, Chandler was pretty easy to love.  She worried to excess about his relentless, frenetic, multitasking ways, but he’d never given her an ounce of actual grief.  Chandler’s sensitivity and depth of kindness was his greatest asset, and likely his greatest flaw.  He simply cared too much about things he couldn’t change.  Her youngest son had a palpable chemistry with Taylor, and Bryn had been secretly both devastated and relieved when their relationship ended.  She assumed they would find their way back to one another, but life had taken its usual circuitous path.  She’d been happy when Taylor married Liam, meeting him once when they’d come to visit Alice.  Bryn figured that was that, and after a certain point they all moved on.  God clearly had a different plan in mind, though, for Taylor was back in Chandler’s sights.

“Miss Bryn?”  Taylor’s question knocked her out of her head and back into reality.

“I’m sorry,” she quickly apologized.  “I was just checking to make sure there was enough food.”  Taylor followed her gaze to the table and back, until their eyes met.

“It looks more than adequate.”  The women shared a smile, and, they’d quickly come to realize, some unspoken truths.

***

Chase gripped his son gently by the shoulders, and looked him up and
down.  He smiled.

“Well, even if you do have my hair, face, and eyes, you’re still a pretty handsome young man.”  He turned his head to one side.  “At least you don’t have my nose.”

“CJ has your nose,” Chandler observed.  Both men laughed and let the conversation rest for a beat. 

“I’m proud of you,” Chase told him.  “Even if you’d never sold a single painting, you’ve grown into a fine person, a great brother and a loyal friend.  You’ve been standing on your own two feet for so long now.”

Chandler noted the wetness in his father’s eyes.  “I wouldn’t have become anything without you and Mom to guide me.  You gave me the best childhood imaginable, and I never wanted for love or security.”

“You’ve done an incredible job with this place.  There’s gonna be a lot
of people here today.”

Chandler nodded and let out a deep breath.  “I couldn’t have done any of this without Taylor,” he admitted.  “She called and invited people that I’d forgotten.”  Chase smiled helpfully.  “What?” 

Chase shook his head and let his gaze wander over to a fixed point on the wall.  “You’ve got that look in your eyes, son.  It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

He narrowed his eyes at his father, trying to remain collected but failing miserably.  “I’m just trying to be her friend, Dad.  But y
es, there are a lot of complicated feelings between the two of us.  I’d be lying if I told you otherwise.”  They were interrupted by a knock at the adjoining door, and CJ stuck his head in a second later.

“Mind if I join you?”

Chandler rolled his eyes and smiled.  “Come on in, knothead.”

He laughed and closed the door behind him.  He was dressed up, even sporting a necktie, something that occurred about as regularly as a snake in wintertime.  “It’s getting busy out there, on both sides.”

Chandler nodded.  “How’s Alison doing?”

He grinned.  “She’s selling it left and right, like it was on clearance.  And smiling at every customer like they’re her favorite.”

Chase wrapped an arm around his eldest son’s shoulder and held him tight.  “Where’s that grandson of mine?”

“Chasing his sister around and making her laugh.   You’ll see them soon.  Alison’s got them dressed up like they’re headed to a wedding.”

“Well,” Chase pointed out, “this is a big day for all of us.”

“Congrats, bro,” CJ said, a huge smile ratcheting
his face up a few notches.  “It’s just hard to put you on babysitting duty these days.”

“Ha-ha,” Chandler replied dryly.  And three of them laughed.

***

A steady stream of people built to a torrent as the walls of the gallery neared the breaking point.  Ta
ylor saw many familiar faces, and some unfamiliar, but nearly all of them friendly.  Alone at the counter, having just directed the mayor toward Chandler’s station in the next room, a tall man gave her a brotherly hug and she laughed.

“Mark,” she said, smi
ling.  “And who is that handsome man with you?”

“Hi, Miss Taylor,” Max said brightly.  “I’m wearing a bowtie.”

She laughed.  “You are, aren’t you?”  Mark pulled him off the floor and into his arms.

“How are you doing, Taylor?  Chandler told me he’d hired y
ou but I didn’t pry.”  Max nuzzled against his neck.  “I see you’ve already met my son here, charmer that he is.  We meant to be here earlier but Christa had to settle the baby down.  He’s never been around this many people before.”

BOOK: The Art of Love (The Windswept Saga)
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