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

multi-million dollar properties to wealthy clients. Their houses showcased some of the most incredible art I’ve ever seen. Your paintings, even unfinished, would make most of those canvases look like something I’d paint.” Penny pointed to the picture of the cornfield. “What would something like this sell for?”

Wyatt picked an old rag off the worktable and placed it with some others. “The price isn’t important.”

“It is if you want to pay your rent,” she said half-jokingly. “If I said three thousand dollars, would I be too high or not high enough?” She almost smiled when she saw Wyatt’s pained expression. She wasn’t an art collector, but she knew his paintings were worth a lot more. It was kind of cute to see how shocked he was.

“If you bought it for that much, it would be the sale of the century.”

“Okay. What about ten thousand?” The stubborn tilt to his jaw told her he wouldn’t tell her. “Have you given any of your paintings away?”

“For free?”

Penny nodded.

“It’s not something I do all the time, but I’ve given away a few.”

That was a surprise. “Who did you give them to?”

“Different charities. The coffeepot will be hot. Come to the kitchen and I’ll get you a cup.”

Penny took one last look around the room. “Can I see the paintings when they’re finished?”

“I’ll call you before I send them to the gallery.”

“And tell me the prices?”

“No.”

“Okay, but I don’t give up easily.”

Wyatt smiled. “I’d noticed.”

With an answering grin, Penny followed him into the kitchen. She’d noticed a lot about Wyatt, too, and she wanted to know more.

Chapter 7

Wyatt looked around the meeting room at The Welcome Center. Eighteen people had come to the first group meeting of the art project. They’d listened to what he’d said, asked questions, then moved into groups to discuss possible themes and ideas they might have.

So far, everything had gone well. The only downside was that Jack and his dad, Richard, weren’t here.

“How’s everything going?” Pastor John asked.

“Better than I expected. Everyone seems happy to share their ideas and help with the murals.”

“I didn’t think you’d have any problem finding volunteers. Penny looks as though she’s enjoying herself.”

Wyatt looked across the room. Penny was smiling and making notes about what her group was discussing. It felt good to have her here, to have her experience what art could bring to a community. “I think she’s enjoying herself more than she realized.”

John smiled. “Everyone’s enjoying themselves. This project is exactly what the tiny home village needs. We’ve grown so quickly over the last eighteen months and it’s time we found something to bring us together.”

“If this doesn’t work, nothing will.” From first-hand experience, Wyatt had seen how powerful a well-run art project could be. “I updated the project plan to include a barbecue lunch after we finish the murals. Mabel and Allan Terry said they’d sponsor the food, so all I need to do is find some activities for the children.”

“I know a company in Polson who’ve helped us with other events. I’m happy to call them if it saves you time.”

“That would be great. Penny can help with anything that needs to be done. If we include her in our meetings, she could coordinate everything for us.”

“How’s life with the Terry sisters as your neighbors?”

Wyatt wasn’t sure what John meant. “I’m enjoying their company. I see Penny more than her other sisters. Charlie, Diana’s dog, doesn’t bark so often and, most days, someone brings across some home baking.”

“It sounds as though you’ve got the best of both worlds. Peace and quiet when you’re painting and company when you need a break.”

He supposed he did. After living on his own for the last few years, knowing Penny was next door with a fresh pot of coffee made a difference. Instead of dwelling on his own thoughts, he could talk to her about whatever was going through his head.

John looked across the room as the meeting room’s doors swung open. “Thank goodness for that. I didn’t think Jack and Richard were going to make it.”

Instead of the serious young boy Wyatt always saw, Jack had a smile on his face. It probably had a lot to do with his dad bringing him to the meeting. When he saw Wyatt, he raced across the room. “Are we too late?”

Wyatt shook his head. “It’s the best time to be here. Everyone’s talking about what they’d like to see in the murals. I’ll show you which group you can join.”

“Dad’s staying, too. Do you know where we’ve been?”

Wyatt shook his head. Wherever it was, it seemed important to Jack.

The little guy’s big blue eyes filled with excitement. “Mrs. Armstrong gave Dad and me a ride to the hospital. The doctors were real nice and helped Dad’s leg feel better.”

“That’s great.”

“And they said if Dad sees them later in the year, he might get a new leg.”

Richard met them halfway across the room. Usually, he was in his wheelchair when Wyatt saw him. But not today. He stood tall and proud, looking more confident than when he’d last seen him.

“Sorry we’re late. I had an appointment at the hospital.”

Wyatt shook his hand. “So I heard. It’s good to see you again.”

“We haven’t missed much,” Jack told his dad. “Wyatt said we can join one of the groups.”

It didn’t look as though Richard was as excited as his son. In case he decided to leave, Wyatt pulled two chairs away from the table on his right. “You can sit here.”

Andrea, a volunteer at The Welcome Center, was taking notes at the table. “Hi, Richard and Jack. Ellie just suggested a fish theme for one of the murals. What do you think?”

Richard looked as though he’d rather go to the dentist than discuss Ellie’s idea. Jack, on the other hand, eagerly sat forward. “Dad and I go fishing on Flathead Lake. We catch brown trout. Sometimes, we don’t even use bait.”

Ellie looked intrigued. “How do you catch fish without bait?”

“You just throw in your