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The Stroke of Winter(30)

Author:Wendy Webb

Of course, Tess thought. Wyatt had other things to do. But she felt a pang in the pit of her stomach at the thought of him going away. She wished he would stay.

“Jim mentioned you had dogs,” Tess said, by way of making conversation as Wyatt pulled on his coat, which he’d taken off as they talked. “What kind? I think he said malamutes?”

Wyatt smiled. “That’s right. One is black and white. One red and white. Luna and Maya. They’re good girls. I got them as a rescued pair about five years ago.”

“Bring them over sometime,” Tess said. “I’d love to see them.”

“I’ll do that,” he said, smiling. But Tess watched as that smile faded as quickly as it had appeared. “Will you be okay here by yourself tonight?” he asked. “You seemed pretty spooked.”

Tess wasn’t quite sure how to answer that question. She desperately wished for someone else to be with her, after the strangeness of the day. But she couldn’t very well say it out loud to Wyatt. Instead, she managed a smile.

“Of course,” she said. “I’ve got my bodyguard here to protect me.” She glanced at Storm, who had calmed down and was curled into a ball in front of the fire.

“Okay,” Wyatt said, holding her gaze for a bit longer than usual.

Something was happening between them, Tess thought. A moment. The air itself seemed to buzz around her like fireflies.

“Thanks for dinner,” he said, finally. “It was delicious. I can’t believe I neglected to brag to Jim about it. He’s been talking up your cooking to the whole town.”

Tess chuckled. “Anytime. My kitchen is always open.”

Wyatt leaned against the doorframe. “I really don’t want to go. Is that bad to say? Should I not be saying that at this juncture? I’m really out of practice at this. Whatever this is. Is this something? Or not? Am I presuming too much?” He chuckled. “Well, for sure I’m talking too much.”

Tess crossed the room and put her arms around his shoulders. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, their faces touching for an electric moment.

“I’m out of practice, too. At whatever this is. Or isn’t. Maybe we can just muddle through it together.”

Wyatt smiled. “I could call you tomorrow.”

“Yes, you could.”

“Or later tonight.”

“That, too.”

“Okay, then,” he said and pulled open the door. He started to walk through it but turned back over his shoulder. “If anything happens—not that it’s going to—but if it does, call me. No matter what time it is. I don’t want you in here battling with a raccoon on your own.”

And then he was gone. Tess shut and locked the door behind him and watched through the window as he climbed into his truck. He started it and let it run for a moment before backing down the driveway and disappearing down the dark street.

She didn’t quite know what to make of the man. Whatever “this” was, he was certainly honest and up-front about it. What a concept, she thought. A man who doesn’t play games.

Tess turned to the empty kitchen, which seemed even more empty without the hustle and bustle of the day.

She poured herself a glass of wine and settled down in the armchair next to the fire, eyeing the back stairs. What a strange day. First, the realization that the room had been her grandfather’s studio. The confusion about why it had been left in such disarray. The little bathroom and the canvases. The stains everywhere. And then, those ghastly scratches. Like whatever was in there had been desperate to get out.

But there had been nothing in the room.

Tess turned it over and over in her mind and wondered if her curiosity about what those canvases contained would get the better of her that night.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

After watching a couple of episodes of a favorite old sitcom to take her mind off things, Tess turned out the lights in the living room and kitchen and started up to bed, Storm at her heels. Even though she had turned off all the lights downstairs, she flipped all of them on upstairs. Stairway, hallway, and every room she passed.

It might be silly and wasteful, she thought as she switched on the light in her bedroom, but if that’s what it takes for me to get to sleep tonight, that’s what I’m going to do.

She stood on the threshold of her bedroom and stared down the hall toward the room they had opened that day. The curiosity seemed to be eating at her from the inside out. But getting any more answers would have to wait until morning. She had no desire to venture in alone at night. That was silly, too, she knew.

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