Chapter 3
Alexis gathered her easel and the largest blank canvas she had from her bedroom. She placed them next to the table for Peter to use. She sat and clasped her hands on the table. “What are you going to paint?”
“The more I’ve thought about it, I’ve changed my mind about the one from Ranger’s Walk. Instead, I thought I would do a painting from my heart. One I’ve wanted to paint for a long time and haven’t taken the time to do. It will be fresh not only for me, but for the patrons in your gallery.”
“You know, since you haven’t been painting, and you disappeared, according to the news, you might actually have to make an appearance and declare it to be your painting.”
“I’m aware.”
“Are you sure you want to do that? You’re trying to avoid people, and this will definitely not be avoiding people. They will want to shake your hand and get selfies with you, and—”
Peter placed two fingers against her lips. “I know all that, but you need this, and I want to do it for you, for helping me. You didn’t have to, and I know that I’m alive only because of your good heart.”
Alexis sighed, a huge weight lifted from her shoulders. “Thank you. You can’t imagine how much I appreciate this. You’ll save my gallery from bankruptcy.”
He smiled. “I’m glad. The fact that I can finally do some good for someone with my art literally makes my day.
Maybe my decade. Most of the people I meet are only in the business for the money.
Rarely are they artists.” He cocked his head to one side.
“You’re different. You’re someone with definite artistic talent and a good heart, too.
You love bringing art to people, don’t you? ”
She nodded. “I do. I want people to see great art and I wanted to be part of the art world. I’m one of only two art galleries in the Roaring Fork Valley, both are here in Aspen.
Mine isn’t a traditional gallery but a consignment gallery.
All of the paintings in my gallery are for sale and are being displayed by the artists.
I take a fifteen percent commission on sales.
If I had to buy all the art to show myself, I could never have started the business.
I don’t have that kind of money and this isn’t New York City where there are art galleries on every corner, or so it seems sometimes.
But even so, lots of people who wouldn’t otherwise see these paintings, can now because I’m here. ”
He straightened in his chair. “I understand. I didn’t always have money.
I got lucky and did the backgrounds and characters for my siblings’ game.
Still do for all their games. They have brought us billions.
You wouldn’t think that video games could do that, but they are still selling like wildfire.
People can’t seem to get enough of them. ”
Alexis felt her face heat with embarrassment.
“I’m one of those people. I have all the games you’ve come out with and can hardly wait for the next one.
Not just because of the excitement of the game but also for your artwork.
It’s wonderful and the fact that you have been able to digitize it for the games is just amazing. ”
He leaned back in his chair and grinned.
“I saw your gaming console, TV and computer in the bedroom, along with the cases for Ranger’s Walk.
But, digitizing the artwork was a learning curve, that’s for sure.
Taking my paintings and learning to paint with a mouse rather than a brush took some getting used to.
I find it easy now, but I still prefer my brushes. ”
“I’m glad. It would be a colossal waste of talent for you to give up your brushes.” She suddenly felt uncomfortable at the table. “Shall we move to the living room. I know you were going to paint, but we’re talking now and it’s much more comfortable on the sofa than these hard wooden chairs.”
Peter laughed. “Why don’t you move to the sofa and I’ll paint.
I’m actually excited about painting. I came up here to rediscover my art.
To really paint rather than simply design an electronic character or background.
And I wanted to escape the media attention.
It’s been nearly non-stop since the next game was announced. I need to regroup in peace and quiet.”
“You can do that here.” She stood and headed to the sofa.
She sat on one end and turned to face the easel, sitting cross-legged.
Alexis loved this sofa. It might have come with the cabin but it was the most comfortable piece of furniture she owned besides her bed.
“Based on the snow we have so far and the fact that it’s still falling, you’ll get plenty of time to paint and regroup.
” She jumped up more excited now than she’d been in years.
She’d had a crush on Peter Kincaid since the first time she’d seen his picture in 5280 Magazine and found out he was an artist. He was everything she wanted in a man but she needed to do something to fight this attraction she felt toward him.
Her heart was racing like a hummingbird’s.
She thought she’d have an aneurysm if she didn’t calm down.
“I’ll get you a pillow and some blankets while I’m thinking about it. ”
Alexis hurried to her bedroom and gathered the items she needed. Then she took a deep breath and tried to center herself. By the time she returned to the living room, she felt more in control.
“Here you are.” She set the bedding down in the middle of the sofa. “We ate dinner a little early. Are you still hungry?”
He shook his head. “Thank you but I’m really not. And you should really try to get some sleep. You’ve had quite the evening and should be tired.”
“I probably ought to be, but I’m too excited to have you’re here. Besides, you’re the one who should be exhausted, not me. All I did was pull you inside. You’re the one who walked from your car here.”
“You’re right and yet I feel exhilarated. Just the thought of painting what I want to paint, instead of what I have to for the games, excites me.”
“I’m glad you’re excited.” Alexis wanted him to come sit with his arm around her instead, but the fact she needed to focus on him as a guest in her home and not a possible bedmate had her staying where she was on the other side of the bedding.
She thought of Jim and how she missed him.
She hadn’t been a very good wife to him.
Never loving enough. Never holding him enough and cuddling at night in bed enough.
Letting him go to bed and usually sleep by himself because she fell asleep at her desk.
He always woke up, came and put her in the bed where she should have started anyway.
Alexis felt the tears form but refused to let them fall. Now was not the time to have a breakdown. Later. She would miss him and cry later. For now, she would concentrate on her guest. Her very famous guest. Her very attractive guest, and one she couldn’t have.
“It’s been a long day and night. I think I’ll call it done and go to sleep. Do you have everything you need?” She had to get out of there and get her head together.
Peter smiled. “I do. Thank you for being here and being kind enough to open your home to a wandering and lost man. You’re a pretty amazing woman, Alexis. Taking a chance that the strange man, freezing to death on your porch wasn’t a fugitive.”
She chuckled. “I’d have heard if there was an escapee on the loose.
” She pointed to the radio on the end table.
“When it’s on I have it tuned to the news all the time.
It usually has a clear connection, although the snow does make it harder.
And being in the mountains sometimes makes it impossible to get a good signal, but I have a CB radio for emergencies.
So far ,it’s always gotten through for me.
” She nodded toward her bedroom. “I’d just gotten off the CB with the sheriff when you landed on my porch. So, I wasn’t too worried about you.”
Laughing, he shook his head. “You’re still a pretty amazing woman and I’m very glad to have met you. I look forward to being in your company for a few days.” Suddenly, his eyebrows came together. “Do you have enough food for an extra mouth?”
She waved her hand nonchalantly. “I have plenty. I usually have at least a month’s worth of food. You needn’t worry about that.”
He visibly relaxed. “Good. I’ll replace everything once we are out of here.”
“You don’t have to do that. You’re giving my gallery a new life with your painting. That more than makes up for any food you eat.” She stood. “If you don’t need anything, I’m headed to bed.”
“What about the fire?”
“You don’t need to worry about it. I’ll close the glass doors in front of it and then I’ll let it burn down during the night.
” She stopped and thought for a minute. “But then again, I don’t usually have overnight visitors.
I’ll put another log on it. It should last most of the night.
” She half smiled. “Jim wouldn’t like it but I hate to be cold, that’s why there’s so much wood on the porch.
Which reminds me that I need to check the tarp and make sure it’s secure.
Wet wood doesn’t burn…at least, not well. ”
Turning, she retrieved her coat, hat, gloves, and boots.
After donning everything, she went outside and checked the tarp.
It was loose on one side. Her fault for not securing it properly when Peter arrived.
After tying it down again, she walked back inside.
Stamping her feet to remove most of the snow, she slipped off her boots and left them by the door.
“What’s it like outside?” Peter spoke moving to look out a window.
She placed her gloves in her parka’s pockets and hung the coat on one of the hooks along the wall by the door, then she dropped her stocking cap in the hood of the coat.
“It’s crazy cold and blizzard conditions.
If the weather report is to be believed we have another full day of this, then probably another three or four before the people I hired get to me and clear the road.
“Looks like you’re stuck with me. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a burden to you.”
She’d planned on heading to bed, but going outside had revived her.
She sat again on the sofa from him and waved her hand, dismissing his words.
“I don’t feel like I’m stuck with you. I think I’m incredibility lucky to have you all to myself for a few days.
I can watch you paint and learn what I need to do. ”
He laughed as he painted. “That’s easy. You need to believe in yourself and let it show in your paintings.
Your tentative brush strokes are your downfall.
Your paintings could be great if you were surer of yourself.
Your brush strokes show that you don’t believe in what you’re painting, like it’s not your choice to paint.
Is that true, are they for someone else or for you?
Either way, you’d be much happier with them with strong feelings about the painting.
Find something you feel that way about and then paint that. ”
Alexis considered what he said for a moment. “Do you really think so? Just by changing my brush stroke?”
“Yes, I do. Let me show you. Stand in front of the easel and start painting canvas there. You’ll paint the entire canvas black.”
Eyes wide she turned to face him. “What? That’s crazy.”
“Trust me. Come on.” He stood and extended a hand.
She took it and felt flames travel up her arm. Surprised and alarmed, her wide eyes met his.
He swallowed hard but pulled her up.
As soon as she was standing, she dropped his hand. The burning sensation ended. What was that? Why do I feel so drawn to him that our touch burned hot? Something is not right. She walked to the easel.
He got the canvas she’d brought out and set it on the easel. “Okay, get your black paint and start. I want to see your brushstrokes. Don’t think about it, just paint as you normally would.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think I can with you watching me.”
“How did you do it when you took your art classes? You had to paint then, didn’t you?”
Alexis shrugged. “Well, yes, but—”
“This is no different. I am your teacher, and you have to paint in front of me, so dip the brush and go.”
She squeezed a gob of black acrylic paint onto her palette. Then dipped her large, flat brush into the paint, coating it thoroughly. Starting in the upper left corner she stroked the brush from the top to the left edge and then back toward the right, at an angle and kept going.
“Press harder. Stroke the paint on like you mean it and thickly cover the canvas with the paint.”
“But—” I don’t understand what he’s doing or what difference the brush strokes make if we’re just painting the canvas black.
“No buts.” He walked behind her and took her right hand with his and stroked across the canvas. The strokes were bold, meaningful. “See? See the difference that makes in the painting? You’re just giving it a base for the rest, but you still need to make the strokes forceful.”
“Yes. I see.” She saw the glistening brush strokes in the paint.
“And all we’re doing now is covering it with black. Imagine what we will do when you start adding color and more texture to it.”
Alexis looked over her shoulder and grinned. “I can’t wait.”