Country Roads by Nancy Herkness Page B

Sanc-tu-ar-y.”
    He tossed a look in her direction. “Since you’ve asked me to be your legal advisor, I think we should talk about your uncle.”
    The change of subject was abrupt; she’d touched a nerve. She sighed. “I bought him a gift this morning.”
    “That’s generous of you, all things considered.”
    “I still love him as an uncle, even if he’s messing with my career. He collects antique weapons, and I saw a Civil War–era sword in a store window.”
    He coughed and laughed at the same time. “Don’t forget to wrap a penny up with it, and have him give it right back to you.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “You don’t know the symbolism of a blade as a gift? It means you want to sever the relationship. Unless you exchange money along with it so it becomes a purchase.”
    “So you don’t think I should give him the sword right now?”
    “I think I’d like to see his face.”
    She started to smile. “You know, I would too.”
    “Back to business. If you confront your uncle, do you think he will tell you the truth?”
    “That’s a good question.” She fiddled with the silver band she wore on her little finger. She thought so, but events might have proved her wrong.
    “Would you know if he was lying to you?”
    Julia turned to stare at the blur of trees passing by her window. “No, because it seems like he’s been lying to me all this time, and I didn’t know it. He told me no one would buy my work, when it turns out he wasn’t even offering it for sale. Even if he thought it was for the good of my career, he lied to me.”
    His hand covered the white-knuckled knot of her fingers in her lap. “We all want to trust the people we love. It’s a terrible thing when they betray that trust.” He gave her hand a quick squeeze and returned his to the steering wheel.
    “He nearly destroyed me.” Her voice was ragged. “If someone who loves me would do this to me, it feels like there’s no one I can trust.”
    “You can trust me.”
    The declaration was so simple. She knew it was almost as absurd as Mrs. Bostic having her and Paul marching down the aisle after one day’s acquaintance, yet she believed him. Then she realized what he meant. “You’re talking about that lawyer-client confidentiality thing.”
    “No, I mean you can trust me as one human being to another.”
    She swallowed a couple of times. “That helps.”
    “We’re here,” he said, aiming the car between two handsome brick pillars with wrought-iron lamps atop them. On one pillar, a white sign with simple green block letters read “Healing Springs Stables.”
    “Sharon’s a world-class equestrian,” Paul said. “People send their horses from all over to train here. Which is why we keep her whole whisper horse idea sort of quiet.”
    “Horse whispering is considered perfectly legitimate nowadays,” Julia pointed out.
    “Yes, but this whispering goes from horse to human.” They rumbled up a gravel road between immaculately painted white fences. On either side rolling fields were dotted with grazing horses. He neatly slotted the ’Vette in between a green pickup truck and a silver Mercedes SUV. Julia got out, taking with her the recently purchased tote bag containing her sketchpad and pencils. She’d also brought a point-and-shoot camera to capture colors.
    And the colors were spectacular. Redbrick barns with bright-white trim. All the varied greens and blues of row after row of mountain ranges receding into the distance. The gloss of horses’ coats in every shade from dapple-gray to darkest bay. Even the stable hands contributed to the display, sporting multihued T-shirts that cheered on the WVU Mountaineers or announced the West Virginia State Fair was “bigger and better.”
    Taking it all in, her fingers twitched with impatience as she followed Paul into the dimness of one of the barns. It felt good to be back with her favorite subjects, like coming home.
    “Hey, Taggart, out of my way! You wouldn’t want any