She’d been painting for a week now, and for a week she’d remained hidden behind the screens. When he’d realized they would be working at the same time, Jonah had draped sheets over two tall screens to keep his carving dust from ruining her paint. It was practical, though a bit frustrating, for Lorraine had insisted he not look at the horse until she finished. The truth was, though he was curious about her progress, what Jonah missed most was the sight of Lorraine. It seemed strange, hearing her voice and smelling the sweet scent of her perfume mingling with the odors of paint and turpentine, but not knowing whether she was smiling or frowning or whether a tendril of that glossy brown hair was brushing her cheek.
“This is so much fun.” Lorraine’s voice came from behind the screens, slightly muffled yet still easily understood. “I don’t know how you can give it up.”
“Perhaps I won’t. Perhaps I can find time to carve at home.” But even as he pronounced the words, Jonah knew they were merely a dream. Traywood demanded a lot of time and attention. That was one of the reasons he had to return. His parents were aging, and although they did not complain, he knew they needed him to assume the responsibility of running the estate.
“I hope you can.” Jonah heard the wistfulness in her voice and wished there were something he could do to reassure her, but he refused to lie. Chances were good that he’d never carve another horse. He wouldn’t tell Lorraine that, just as he wouldn’t tell her that the carousel was no longer as important as it had once been.
A month ago, Jonah had believed that when he left America, what he’d regret most was leaving his painted ponies. Now he knew that his greatest regret would be leaving Lorraine. He’d miss their conversations, her ready smile, the comfortable silences they shared. He’d miss hearing Lorraine playing the piano and watching her put guests at ease. Why deny it? He’d miss everything about her.
“Maybe you’ll come back occasionally,” Lorraine said, her voice once more filled with optimism. “I’ve been giving it a lot of thought, and I’ve decided I’m going to return every summer, even if it’s only for a few days. I want to ride the carousel and remember how much I enjoyed being a tiny part of creating it.”
She paused, and he wondered what she was thinking.
“Maybe we could arrange to be here at the same time,” she said at last.
Never! For the first time, Jonah was grateful for the screen, because it kept her from seeing his reaction. He wouldn’t return. It wasn’t simply that Traywood would consume his time. The thought of watching Lorraine riding his carousel with her husband made Jonah’s heart ache almost unbearably. If only . . .
He heard a soft giggle and wondered what had caught Lorraine’s fancy. “Are you ready?” she asked.
To see her with her husband? Of course she didn’t mean that. “Ready for what?”
“To see the horse.”
“You’ve finished?” Jonah had thought it would take her another day or two.
“Yes. The paint is still wet, but it’s ready for inspection.”
He laid down his tools and approached the screens. As he did, Lorraine came out. Her fingers were spattered with paint, and a smudge marred one cheek, but what drew Jonah’s attention was the uncertainty in her eyes. The woman who had sounded so confident of her abilities was now unsure.
“I hope you like it,” she said softly. “I hope it’s good enough.” With trembling hands, Lorraine moved one of the screens aside.
Jonah stared, so astonished by the sight of her creation that words failed him. Never, not even for a moment, had he expected this. Second row horses were exactly that—secondary. Though their designs were similar to those of the outside row, they could not match the larger horses’ beauty, simply because many of the details were painted rather than being carved. Somehow, Lorraine had overcome the challenge of working in only two dimensions, and the horse she’d painted rivaled his lead horse.
“You don’t like it.”
Jonah shook his head, regretting the silence that had been so easy to misinterpret. “You’re wrong, Lorraine. I like it. Very much. So much that I was speechless. What you’ve done is beautiful.” Slowly, he walked around the horse, careful not to touch the paint, though his fingers itched to do exactly that. The lilacs she had painted around the horse’s neck looked so real that he wanted to rub them between his fingers to release the perfume.
“You really think it’s beautiful?” Her voice held wonder, as if she couldn’t believe his words.
“It’s perfect.” Jonah wanted to reassure her, but more than that, he wanted her to know that she was far more than the useless ornament he’d once called her. This was a woman who could do anything. Almost anything, he amended, recalling her attempts to cook and launder. “I couldn’t have done better myself.” He shook his head. “Why am I lying? The fact is, this is better than anything I’ve done. It truly is perfect.”
Though he could tell she didn’t fully believe him, Lorraine’s face lit with pleasure. “I’m so glad you like it. I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
“You didn’t. This is magnificent.”
Jonah wasn’t sure why he did it, but before he could stop himself, he had placed his hands on her waist and was spinning Lorraine around. Round and round they went, faster than the carousel would revolve, and with each revolution, he felt the excitement inside him build. This woman, this wonderful woman, was helping make his dream come true. The horse she’d created was magnificent, and so was she.
As he felt his head begin to spin, Jonah lowered Lorraine to the ground, and then, slowly and deliberately, he moved his lips toward hers.