Epilogue
TWO MONTHS LATER
“I t’s too hot for everyone to be standing around outside,” Eva said. “I think we should do this another time. Andie’s pregnant—she doesn’t need to be out in this. It’s crazy.”
Casey watched as she fussed with her jacket, brushing lint from the lapels before tweaking the cuffs. He’d seen her nervous plenty of times, but this was taking it to a new level.
Stepping forward, he gently batted her hands away and smoothed her lapels himself. Then he buttoned the single button and put his hands on her shoulders.
“It’s only eighty. Andie will be just fine. And, babe, you look great. You always look great.”
“I don’t care how I look,” she scoffed.
She’d changed outfits four times, but he did his best not to laugh.
“This is happening, whether you like it or not. People want to celebrate what you’ve done. They’re proud, and you should be, too,” he said.
Officially, Eva had finished work on the grain elevator three weeks ago, but the wheels of local government moved slowly, and they were only now getting around to holding a ribbon-cutting ceremony. Ever since she’d been notified, Eva had been like a cat on a hot tin roof, but today her skittishness had reached new heights.
“It seems like a lot of fuss when people can just drive out to the site and see the grain elevator for themselves. They don’t need to open it. It’s stupid.”
Her gaze was wandering over his shoulder as she talked, and she kept tugging on the bottom of her jacket like a kid trying to adjust to her first school uniform.
“Here’s the deal,” he said. “You turned an eyesore into a piece of art and people want to give you the kudos you deserve. Why is that so hard for you to accept?”
“I don’t know.”
“The moment you get there you’re going to be fine. You know that, right?”
She shrugged, looking genuinely miserable, and he pulled her into his arms.
“Why is this so hard for you?” he asked quietly.
She was silent for a moment, and he could feel her thinking.
“I don’t know. I feel…exposed. I don’t need to be applauded. I just want to get on to the next project.”
“Well, Belgrade don’t want you for another two weeks, and you won’t be able to start on Gardiner until after winter, so you’re going to have to just suck up this moment of glory.”
So far, Eva had only signed up two more communities for her Montana art trail project, aided and abetted by Jane McCullough from the Chamber of Commerce, but Casey was confident there would be more. Once prospective towns saw the kind of traffic Eva’s work generated, they would want in. He was certain of it.
Eva’s hands curled into the fabric of his shirt, then she pushed herself away from his chest, a resigned expression on her face.
“Okay. Obviously you’re right and I can’t get out of this, so let’s just do it.”
He was pretty sure he’d never seen anyone look so unhappy about being lauded, but he figured she’d come around to the experience once she was basking in the warmth of the crowd. She’d spent so long on the sidelines, she wasn’t used to being center stage. What she didn’t fully comprehend yet, he suspected, was that she was a superstar, and the art trail she was in the process of creating was going to make her career.
He was confident she’d work it out eventually, however, and he was glad he’d be around to see it happen, because he loved her more than life itself and watching her succeed made him happier than he ever thought he could be.
His family were waiting patiently in the living room, all dressed in their Sunday best. CJ and Jesse had made a special trip home to be here this weekend. It would be the first of many, since the Shots were due in Nashville in a week’s time to record their first album, and they’d be picking up the slack on the ranch while Casey was gone.
None of them knew how long he’d be absent yet—Jimmy Borman had said “how long is a piece of string” when Casey had asked for hard and fast dates—but they’d sorted out a number of contingency plans and Casey was as confident as he could be that his absence wouldn’t be the deciding factor in the Carmody ranch’s survival.
“We ready to hit the road?” Jed asked.
“I believe we are,” Casey said, and Eva nodded with grim determination.
“Let’s get this over with,” she said.
CJ laughed. “Clearly, we do not need to worry about Eva getting a big head over all of this attention. Good to know.”
“I’ll be happy if we can just get her there,” Casey said.
“Are we doing this or not?” Eva asked, not appreciating being the butt of the joke.
He led her out to his truck, the others following in his wake. Jesse’s pickup trailed them during the short drive to the grain elevator, where they had to park in the housing development due to the elevator’s lot already being full.
“Why are there so many people?” Eva asked anxiously as they walked back to the site.
“Because what you created is literally breathtaking,” Casey said, waving a hand toward the mighty structural canvas that towered above them.
Every time he saw it he got chills. Eva’s finished portraits were emotional, evocative, and stirring, and he knew he wasn’t the only one who was filled with pride for their small community whenever he stood and contemplated the past, present, and future of Marietta as depicted in the mural. Somehow she’d captured the grit and determination, the connection to the land, the hope for the future that had helped forge a home for generations in the shadow of Copper Mountain, and he still marveled that the petite woman beside him could have created this epic piece all on her own.
“It’s astonishing, Eva,” Sierra said, awe in her voice. “Every time I’m here, I see something new.”
Their arrival created a small stir, and a couple of people broke into spontaneous applause when they saw Eva. A few locals came forward to pat her shoulder and congratulate her personally, and then Jane and Andie were there, drawing her forward to where a large red ribbon had been installed across the width of the mural and a small dais offered speakers a few feet of elevation.
“There she is, the woman of the hour,” Andie said.
She was wearing a pair of elegant tailored pants and a blue shirt, and Casey could detect the gentlest of baby bumps starting to round her belly. Pregnancy clearly agreed with her—he was pretty sure he’d never seen her looking so well and happy.
He stood beside Eva as they quickly explained how it was all going to proceed, then Jane patted Eva on the shoulder and stepped up onto the small dais.
“Excuse me, everyone, can I have your attention, please?” she called, and gradually the crowd quietened.
“Thank you. And thank you for coming today for this very special occasion. I think I speak for all of us when I say that we are proud and honored to be the first town to boast an Eva King mural.”
She had to pause then because the crowd broke into spontaneous applause. Casey slid his arm around Eva’s shoulders and felt her tremble in reaction.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
“Yes. Thank you for making me come.” Her eyes were swimming when she looked at him and he kissed her briefly.
“You deserve this,” he said simply. “Get used to it.”
She smiled and nodded, and when it was her turn to step up to the dais she spoke confidently and emotionally, thanking the people of Marietta for trusting her with their stories and having faith in her work. Then it was the Mayor’s turn, and he talked for far too long, to the point where people were shuffling their feet and starting to talk among themselves.
Finally it was time to cut the ribbon, and Eva stood with the Mayor and smiled for countless photos before the Mayor wielded the scissors with showy flair, slicing the red satin ribbon in half decisively.
Everyone wanted to talk to Eva afterward, and it was a full hour before they were walking back to his truck. Andie and Heath were having another lunch at their place to celebrate the opening, and he pointed his truck in the direction of Riverbend Park as they left the housing development.
“That’s done. Thank God. Your turn next,” Eva said, unbuttoning her jacket.
“We’ll see,” he said, because even though the Shots had landed a recording contract after the showcase they’d played a month ago, nothing was guaranteed in the music industry.
“Jimmy thinks you guys are going to be a hit,” Eva reminded him.
“That’s Jimmy’s job, though, right?” Casey said dryly.
As Jimmy had predicted, they’d had approaches from other record labels and management groups off the back of the exposure the radio competition had given to “Song For Eva,” but the band had chosen to go ahead with the showcase in Nashville because they’d felt as though it offered the broadest opportunity. They’d had no less than three recording companies wanting to talk that night, and Jimmy’s advice had helped them sort the wheat from the chaff. Casey would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited about the opportunities opening up for the band, but he wasn’t about to be swept off his feet by any of it, either.
“I don’t need Jimmy’s prediction, because I’ve got my own. I know how good you are. I’ve seen the way audiences respond to your music.”
She sounded so sure, so certain and it made him sit a little straighter. Eva’s faith was a gift, a force to be reckoned with, and he thanked the universe that she was on his side every day.
He glanced across at her, struck by the realization that all the good things happening in his life right now were a direct result of the day he’d walked out of the barn and been introduced to a sexy, challenging blonde with bright blue eyes and attitude to spare.
She’d opened up his world and his heart, made him believe in broader horizons, and taught him to fly.
She made him stronger. She made him smarter. She made him braver, and he hoped he did the same for her.
Reaching across the console, he took her hand in his.
“I love you, Eva King,” he said.
Her hand gripped his, strong and tenacious. “Back at you, Casey Carmody. I love you so much it hurts.”
“Tell me where it hurts and I’ll kiss it better,” he said.
Her smile was slow and more than a little provocative.
“It actually hurts in a few places. I’ll point them out to you later.”
“You do that,” he said.
Then he concentrated on the road ahead.
The End