The Lakeside Inn, Leeanna Morgan [rosie project TXT] 📗

“We know,” Penny said quickly. The last thing she wanted was for Katie to go home upset. “And you’re right. It is only a chest. But I’m worried that once I look inside, I won’t be able to stop crying.”

Katie looked confused. “Because of what Grandma found?”

Penny shrugged. “It’s not so much what she found, but what it represents. Mom said Grandma spent a lot of time gathering scraps of information about her parents. If I can’t find out what happened to her dad, I’ll feel as though I’ve let her down.”

Barbara sat beside Penny. “Grandma would be happy you’re willing to carry on where she left off. She knew the chance of discovering what happened to her dad was remote. But if anyone can figure it out, you can.”

Katie stuck her hands in her pockets. “And you won’t be doing it alone. Four heads have to be better than one.”

The smile on her sisters’ faces told Penny everything would be okay.

Katie glanced at her watch. “I’d better go. I’ll be back in half an hour to collect my suitcases.”

Diana patted Charlie. “And we’d better go for a walk. If I don’t see you before you leave, Katie, have a safe flight.”

“I will.” Katie hugged Diana. “I’m sorry I can’t stay.”

“There’s still time to change your mind.”

“I know.”

After Penny and Barbara hugged their sister, Katie picked up her wallet, gave Charlie a quick cuddle, then left.

“I hope she stays,” Diana murmured. “I can’t imagine not coming back to Grandma’s house when I visit.”

Neither could Penny. But with a promotion looming at work, she didn’t want to live here permanently, either.

Chapter 4

Wyatt sat silently at the back of the art class in The Welcome Center, listening to Natalie Armstrong’s tutorial. Making a substantial living from selling art wasn’t easy, but Natalie had built a career that was the envy of many artists.

From the information he’d found on the Internet, she exhibited her work at prestigious galleries across Europe and commanded high prices for her work. But, here she was, wearing an old paint-splattered shirt and jeans, and talking to a class of eager students.

Although he wasn’t here to talk about photo journalism or any of the other interesting topics they were discussing, he found the conversation fascinating.

By the end of the class, he could see why her workshops were so popular.

After talking with her students, Natalie made her way toward him. “You must be Wyatt. Ethan told me you might be here.”

He shook her hand. “I enjoyed the class.”

“They’re a great group of people. Sometimes we don’t get a lot of painting done, but that’s okay. Ethan said you’re organizing a community art project?”

“That’s right. I’m not sure what the best way of getting everyone involved would be. I’m hoping you’ll have some ideas.”

Natalie slid awkwardly into a chair. She smiled when he jumped out of his seat to help her. “Thanks. Being pregnant can make it difficult to do simple things.”

When she was standing, Natalie’s baby bump was hardly noticeable. But now, it was definitely there. “When is your baby due?”

“In three months. Gabe, my husband, keeps telling me to slow down, but I enjoy what I’m doing. Tell me about the art project.”

Wyatt handed her a folder of information. “I’d like to start in two weeks.”

“That doesn’t leave you with a lot of time to organize everything.”

“Pastor John is happy for us to paint the garage walls between the church and the tiny home village. So far, Wednesday seems to be the best day for the project meetings. Once we start painting, we can meet whenever it suits everyone.”

“How long do you think it will take?”

“It depends on how many people want to be part of the project. But if ten people are interested, it should only take a few weeks.”

Natalie studied the pictures of other murals painted by community groups. “Do you have a theme in mind for the paintings?”

“Not yet. I thought the residents of the tiny home village could come up with their own theme.”

“Good idea. Ethan told me he wants the residents to get to know each other.”

“The people who moved into their homes eighteen months ago don’t have a lot to do with the newer residents. Ethan and John are hoping the art project will bring everyone together.”

“Have you told anyone who you are?”

Wyatt’s eyes widened. There was no point pretending he wasn’t the person Natalie thought he was. “How did you know?”

“Ethan asked if I knew you. I saw one of your exhibitions when I was working in Venice. It was amazing.”

“Thank you. And to answer your question, Ethan and Pastor John are the only people who know I paint professionally.”

Natalie grinned. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

“It’s not a secret. The only reason people don’t know who I am is because I haven’t shown anyone my paintings.”

“Well, if you have some spare time, you could give a guest presentation at The Welcome Center’s art program. The students would love to see your work and ask you questions. But, in the meantime, let’s look at your project plan. I’ve got some ideas about what could happen after you finish the murals.”

As Natalie told him about another project she had been involved in, he wrote her ideas on a sheet of paper. Listening to her made him realize how much he had to learn about living in a small community. And how much he could enjoy it if he forgot about what had brought him here.

Penny pushed a lock of hair off her face with the back of her arm. After a lot of maneuvering, she’d lifted two small wooden tables out of the attic and onto the back lawn. With a little tender loving care they would make gorgeous bedside tables. All they needed was a light sand and a fresh coat of oil.

She plugged her granddad’s sander into the extension cord and pulled on her mask.

As