The Lakeside Inn, Leeanna Morgan [rosie project TXT] 📗
- Author: Leeanna Morgan
Book online «The Lakeside Inn, Leeanna Morgan [rosie project TXT] 📗». Author Leeanna Morgan
Wyatt smiled. “Painting doesn’t have the same ouch factor as falling off a bicycle.”
“Does it help relieve the pressure?”
His smile faded. “Sometimes.”
Chapter 9
It was just as well Wyatt started work early. The following morning, just as he was adding milk to his Fruit Loops, a text message came through on his cell phone.
It was from Penny, asking if she could bring her sisters to see the portrait of their great-grandmother. Within minutes of telling her they could come whenever they liked, there was a knock on the back door.
Barbara, Diana, and Penny stood on his veranda.
“We know it’s early,” Penny began.
“And we don’t want to be a nuisance,” Diana added.
“But we’re here because Penny said the painting is amazing.” Barbara held out a basket. “We brought muffins. They’re huckleberry and custard.”
Penny cleared her throat. “We made them this morning. Especially for you.”
He scrunched his forehead into a fake frown. “Do you seriously think my favorite muffins will make up for coming here at”—he looked at the clock on the wall for extra emphasis—“six thirty-seven in the morning?”
After looking at each other, Penny and her sisters nodded.
Wyatt smiled and held open the door. “You’re right. Come in. Didn’t you bring Charlie?”
“He’s at home, feeling sorry for himself,” Diana said. “I was worried about bringing him here. You know what he’s like before he’s had his morning walk.”
Charlie was a walking disaster before he’d burned off all his exuberant energy. Nothing in his path was safe. Especially three large canvases sitting on wooden easels.
Barbara looked around the kitchen. “I’m impressed. Everything is so tidy.”
“Did you expect to see a week’s worth of dishes sitting on the counter?” he asked.
“We know you’ve been extra busy painting. I thought you might be buried under takeout containers and frozen meal wrappers.”
He closed the door after Penny. “I prefer fresh food.”
“And freshly baked muffins,” Diana said as she turned on the coffeepot.
“Fruit Loops?” Barbara pointed to his breakfast. “They’re definitely not healthy. Do you know how much sugar is in them?”
Wyatt grabbed the cereal box and shoved it in the cupboard. “How about we go to the studio?”
Penny nudged Barbara away from the kitchen. “Stop giving Wyatt a hard time. He won’t invite us back again.”
Wyatt’s eyebrows rose. “Actually, I didn’t invite—”
Diana waved away his concerns. “Ignore my sisters. They can be annoying.”
For the first time in his life, he was grateful he only had two brothers. Before the sisters could find something else to comment on, he led them into the hallway. “My studio is through here. Don’t touch anything.”
It wouldn’t surprise him if the warning fell on deaf ears.
Diana saw the painting first. “Oh, wow. It’s even more gorgeous than I expected.”
Barbara took a moment to absorb what she was seeing before leaning closer to study the canvas. “There’s even a dragonfly hovering above the lake.”
Diana sent a startled glance at Penny, before returning her gaze to the portrait. “Is it my imagination or does Penny look a lot like our great-grandmother?”
Three pairs of eyes swiveled toward Penny.
Wyatt took a closer look at the portrait. He froze, then looked again at the shape of Penny’s jaw, the way her eyes tilted up at the corners, and the smile that was never far from her face. Diana was right. How did he miss the resemblance?
“We don’t look anything alike,” Penny said.
“You do,” he said softly.
She moved closer to the portrait and tilted her head, mirroring her great-grandmother’s stance in the photo he’d found.
“If you pulled back your hair, you’d see the shape of your face is almost identical. You have the same jaw, the same brow, and the same eyes. Even your smiles are similar.”
Penny lifted her hands and held her hair in a ponytail. The resemblance was uncanny.
“You do look like our great-grandmother,” Barbara said in disbelief. “If your hair was a lighter color, you’d almost be identical.”
Diana held the photo of their great-grandmother beside the canvas. “The painting is exactly like the photo. Why didn’t we notice the similarities last night?”
“Because the painting is in color and it’s bigger,” Barbara murmured. “I wonder if Grandma ever noticed the family resemblance.”
Penny frowned. “I still don’t think we look alike.”
Pulling out her cell phone, Diana looked at Wyatt. “Would it be okay if I took a photo of the painting? When Penny gets home, she can look in the mirror and see what we’re talking about.”
“Okay, but it’s not finished.”
“That’s all right. If Penny can’t see what we’re talking about, she needs to get her eyes checked.”
Penny frowned. “There was nothing wrong with my eyesight when I found the necklace you’d lost.”
“That’s different. I’m always losing things.”
While Diana and Penny bickered, Barbara moved around the studio, looking at each of his semi-finished canvases.
She stopped in front of a painting hanging on the wall.
He’d created that a few months after he’d returned from his honeymoon. It was an image of the Grand Canyon, glowing under the burnished bronze of the setting sun.
“Why don’t you paint under your own name?” she asked.
Wyatt ran his hand around the back of his neck. He was hoping no one would notice his signature at the bottom of his paintings. “I don’t like the publicity that comes with being a well-known artist.”
Barbara’s eyes widened. “How well-known?”
“I told you Wyatt is exhibiting his paintings in Germany,” Penny said to her sister. “You have to be pretty good for that.”
“There’s a big difference between good and really good.”
Penny glanced at Wyatt. She must have realized how uncomfortable he was because she sent him an encouraging smile. “It’s not our business. We’d better get home before Charlie tears up the house.” Before her sister could say anything, Penny pushed Barbara toward the
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