“Will do.” Hunter waved before turning back to the work at hand.
I started towards the path that led to the greenhouse, gardens, and the chicken coop. There must not be a rooster present because I’d yet to be woken at the crack of dawn by any crowing. Thank God for that. As I drew closer, I saw that the vegetable garden had been put to rest for the winter. Straw and some sort of cloth covered the rows of dirt.
The greenhouse seemed to be full of life, though. Even through the slightly foggy windows, I could make out plants taking over the space. The chickens clucked hello as I passed. As I opened the door to the building made almost entirely of glass, I called out. “Shay?”
“Back here,” she answered.
I followed the sound of her voice to a far back corner and found her plucking a perfectly ripe tomato from a vine. “Tomatoes in January. I guess this greenhouse does serve a purpose.”
Shay placed the tomato gently in a basket with a few other vegetables. “I try to plant on a rotation, so there’s always something to harvest. It doesn’t always work, but at least it gives us a hit of some of those things you usually miss during winter.”
My gaze traveled over the space. I saw lettuce and kale, snap peas and asparagus, varied tomatoes and squash. The place was a gold mine. “Have you always been good at this?”
Shay laughed. It was the first time I’d heard the sound from her mouth. God, it was beautiful. A hint of her letting go for the briefest of moments before she refocused on the task at hand. “I was horrible when I first started. I think only about ten percent of the things I put in the soil survived that first year. But I got better at it with each season. I have a friend who knows all about it, and she gave me some advice—” Her words halted as if she’d realized that she was openly sharing things without checking herself. “But you don’t need to hear about all of that.”
I leaned a hip against one of the raised beds. “I asked, didn’t I?”
Shay moved on to a squash plant of some sort, carefully surveying her options before plucking one. “Sure, but you don’t want me droning on about the topic.”
I wanted her to talk about anything. Just the sound of her voice was captivating. It had a musical quality to it, like the rest of her. But if I shared that little fact, I had a feeling she’d drop a two weeks’ notice on my doorstep the next day. “I don’t know. It’s all interesting. How you’ve worked out such a self-sustaining system here.”
Shay glanced over her shoulder. She seemed to relax a bit at the focus being moved to the property as opposed to her. “It is pretty incredible. Most of it was in place before I got here. The solar panels and water filtration system. But having the coop and gardens has made a huge difference. The Dowds used to come for two weeks every Christmas, and they loved having fresh produce and eggs.”
“I’m sure. Did you always stay for the holidays? Didn’t go visit family or anything?”
Her hands stilled in their weeding for the briefest moment before she picked up the motion again. “Nope. I’m happy here.”
I understood it on some level. My relationship with my parents was one more akin to awkward strangers than family. My insurance-broker father never understood my need to express myself through art. And I was pretty sure my mother thought that all the black I’d worn in high school and me moving to New York when I turned eighteen meant that I was worshipping the devil.
I’d paid off their mortgage with my second big commissioned piece. And tried to email or call every few weeks. But the conversations were always forced. My friends had become my family. Carson, my brother. And Lara, a sometimes-annoying big sister who always thought she knew best.
I shook myself out of the trail of thoughts I’d gotten lost down. “Well, this is a good place to be.”
“You’re certainly right about that.” She tossed the weeds into a bucket on the ground. “So, why were you looking for me? Did you need something?”
“I had a question for you.”
“And that would be?” she asked when I didn’t say anything else.
I wasn’t sure exactly how to phrase what I wanted—no…needed to ask. Shay was clearly private, but that guarded air only made her more mysterious. It was catnip for someone like me. I needed to know what she was hiding away from the rest of the world. “Will you sit for me?”
She straightened and turned to face me, her brows pulling together. “There’s not really a place to sit in here.”
I chuckled. “No. Sit for me. In my studio. I need a model for a project I’m working on, and I think you’d be perfect for it.” Better to let her think that she was a fill-in as opposed to my source of inspiration.
Her mouth opened, closed, then opened again. “Why?”
I wanted to laugh at the complete shock in her expression. But that humor quickly transformed into something that felt a lot like anger. Shay had lived on this island since the age of twenty. A time when she should’ve been sneaking into bars with friends. Dancing with strangers. Sharing sloppy, drunken kisses. Instead, she’d been here. Mostly alone. She might have no idea how breathtakingly gorgeous she was. Or that her hazel eyes had the ability to freeze a man to the spot. Couldn’t see that someone might want to paint her likeness, simply to try and capture that beauty.
She’d given up a lot to be here. A whole life in so many ways. And I couldn’t think of anything good that would send a young woman running that way. I cleared my throat. “You’ve got the look I need for this piece.”
Her hand slipped into her jeans’ pocket, seeming to find something there and squeeze. “I’m happy to help in other ways. I can organize your studio, clean up supplies, do any ordering you need. But I can’t sit for you.”
I saw something in her eyes—a mixture of fear and pain. And no piece of art on this planet was worth putting that there. “Okay.”
Her gaze shot to mine. “Okay?”
“Shay. I’m not going to fire you, all right? Not because you won’t pose for me or any other stupid reason. Well, I might fire you if you try to burn down my house. But other than that, you’re safe.”
Her lips twitched. “Even though I look like I’m barely old enough to drink?”
I rolled my eyes heavenward. “You’re not going to let me live that one down, are you?”
“I think I’ll keep it in my back pocket for moments like these.”
I shook my head, taking in the smile that stretched across her face. When I first stepped off the boat, Shay had looked far too young for the responsibilities of her job. But the more time I spent around her, the more I saw the wisdom carved into her. Something I was sure came from pain and hardship. Some people simply wore it like a badge of honor. And Shay was one of them. But that pain had also birthed beauty. Something so deep it was infused into her very being. That went beyond skin and flesh and burrowed soul-deep.
I couldn’t help but want every glimpse of it I could muster.
9
Shay
Evergreen13: Sit for the man! That’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I checked out his website. He’s a big deal.