shirt.
Seeing him, Devin’s eyes widened in surprise. As a rule, Cam seldom bothered to iron. In a demonstration of good instincts, Devin held back any smart-aleck remarks surely fluttering through his mind and simply asked, “So where is our first stop?”
“I think it’d be better if I did this by myself.”
“I think it’d be better if I had your back.” When Cam continued to hesitate, he added, “Am I a member of this family or not?”
Dev’s question came right from the heart of old insecurities. Recognizing that fact, Cam surrendered. “Good point. All right, first stop is the Reese house. It’s just a few blocks away. We’ll walk. We can check out the street vendors on our way. It’s possible we’ll run across them there.”
“You want to approach Lori in public? I don’t think I’d like that if it were me.”
“No, but there’s no reason we can’t walk up and quietly request that we all retire to a place with privacy.”
They exited the house and headed west on Seventh until it intersected Aspen, where white tents lined both sides of the street, offering a wide variety of merchandise for sale. The street was crowded with people, more people than Cam had ever seen in Eternity Springs. The first person he recognized and made eye contact with was his third-grade teacher, Mrs. Auld.
He’d always liked Mrs. Auld. She was a good teacher who nursed his interest in reading and instilled the love for books that he’d enjoyed ever since. She’d been kind to him. After his mother died, when he’d missed school for a week because of the raging infection caused by the neglected cut on his foot, she even came by his house with a stack of books for him to borrow.
Of course, that had been before the incident with Andrew Cook. Today, when she spied him, Mrs. Auld’s eyes went round with shock, and she brought both hands up to cover her mouth.
Guess she’d recognized him, too. Cam was insulted and, frankly, hurt in a third-grade sort of way.
He gave her his shark’s smile, then glided away.
Two booths up Aspen he spied the banker, Mr. Carson, and received a similar reaction. After the third such response, by the owner of the gas station—what was his name? Barker? Parker? Something like that—Cam kept his smile pasted permanently on his face. He began to hum the theme from Jaws below his breath.
By the time he’d crossed Sixth Street, the weight of the chip on his shoulder had doubled. It’s been twenty years. Can’t these people realize that things have changed? I’ve changed? But no, Eternity Springs is a Colorado version of Brigadoon. Time passes, but nobody knows it .
Cam knew it. He’d grown up and somewhere along the way realized that while he might have been a full-blown delinquent at fourteen, he’d started out as a scared little motherless kid who desperately needed someone to have his back. None of these fine, upstanding citizens had bothered.
An oil painting on display in one of the tents caught his attention and distracted him from his dark thoughts. It depicted a springtime view of his favorite place in Colorado, the high mountain plateau called Lover’s Leap. A blanket of goldenrods covered the ground and led straight to the edge of the mountain and the ocean of blue beyond.
Noting his interest, a lovely red-haired, obviously pregnant woman approached. “That’s called Lover’s Leap. It’s a spot about ten miles from here.”
“I know it,” Cam said. His daughter had been conceived there. The painting stirred a storm of emotion inside of Cam. Love, despair, anger, joy. Infinite sadness. A part of him wanted to own the artwork. Another part of him never wanted to look at it again.
“I’m happy to answer any questions you might have,” the redhead continued. “That’s my work.”
“You’re the artist?” Cam tore his stare from the painting and looked at her. Studied her. He didn’t know her. “Are you from Eternity Springs?”
“I moved here a few years