Relieved that Nana had been teasing, she sat down and took the knife Nana held out to her.
There was food everywhere. “This is amazing. How did you ever learn to cook for a group this large?”
Waving the spoon she’d been stirring cheese into a mountain of mashed potatoes with, she chuckled. “I talked to a caterer and she gave me some formulas. Now it just comes naturally. Kind of like I expect painting comes to you. Right?”
Lucy remembered the first time she’d walked into a local art studio and picked up a paintbrush. She’d been ten, and her mother had wanted to encourage her drawing ability. Lucy had loved the scents that filled the studio, linseed oil and turpentine, and the instant she’d held that brush, everything in the world had seemed suddenly right.
It had been a long time since she’d had that feeling. She smiled. “Yes, you’re right. My painting is from instinct, though I had some formal training when I was young.”
“I read about you, you know. Looked you up on the Net.” Nana’s wise eyes settled on her as she spoke.
Lucy knew if that were the case, then she knew about the fire. “You did?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
Nana studied her. “You had a hard time of it. I’m sorry. How are you doing now?”
“I’m okay,” she said, trying to figure out where to direct the conversation. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t thought that someone could check her out online. After all, she was an artist with a bit of success. A rush of sound broke into their conversation as the back door opened and one after the other of the boys streamed down the hall and through the kitchen. She wasn’t sure how all of them would fit in the house.
As if reading her mind, Nana said, “We usually eat in the Chow Hall, but tonight is special, we’re having a guest. So it may be a tight squeeze.”
Laughter and banter filled the room as Rowdy ushered the boys into the den. His brother Morgan and his wife, Jolie, arrived and Rowdy introduced them. Not that she’d needed the introduction—their resemblance was too similar. Morgan, like Rowdy, had Nana’s direct navy eyes.
“Morgan and my dad run the business side of the foster program and the ranch. Jolie has been our schoolteacher since the beginning of the year.”
“I can’t wait to see some of your work.” Jolie’s wide smile reminded Lucy instantly of Julia Roberts, especially with her auburn hair and her expressive eyes. “I envy an artist their abilities. I’m a klutz with a brush in my hand.”
“I won’t believe that until I see it.” Lucy had the distinct impression that this lady could do anything she set her mind to. And quickly she learned it was true when Morgan told her Jolie was a champion kayaker. It was easy to see his pride in her accomplishments. Tim had always seemed threatened by her success. His greatest wish had been for her to give up her work.
Lucy was so thankful that she hadn’t done that.
Looking at Morgan and Jolie, she had to admit that she envied the bond between them. Their mutual respect spoke volumes.
They all talked about her work some—that it was in galleries and that she also sold prints. She wasn’t Thomas Kinkaid or Norman Rockwell, but she was blessed to have some recognition, giving her the ability to paint full-time.
It wasn’t long before they were all helping carry the large platters of food to the huge table in the dining area. There were so many of them that card tables had been set up to help accommodate them all.