Hummingbird Lake by Emily March Page B

her approach wearing a mischievous grin and carrying a bowl. “Don’t tell me. Is that …?”
    “Taste of Texas rocky road,” she confirmed, handing him the bowl of ice cream. “Celeste loves it as much as you, so she laid in a supply.”
    “The woman is an angel.”
    “She says it’s never too cold for great ice cream.”
    “A brilliant angel.”
    Elizabeth laughed. “She’s waiting for you upstairs. Feel free to take your ice cream with you.”
    Colt climbed the stairs and followed the sound of voices down the hall to the parlor. He paused in the doorway and grinned. Well, well, well. If it isn’t sweet, intriguing Sage. Isn’t this handy?
    He savored another bite of ice cream, then said, “Good afternoon, ladies.”
    Celeste looked up, and her face lit with a smile. “Colt! You made it. How was your trip?”
    “Long,” he replied, looking expectantly toward the redhead, who wasn’t meeting his gaze. “Worth it, though, when I have such a delicious treat waiting for me at my destination.”
    “The ice cream is wonderful, isn’t it?”
    “That, too.”
    Celeste smirked and said, “Colt, have you met my friend Sage Anderson? She is Eternity Springs’ artist in residence.”
    “We met last fall at the grand opening, and …” He hesitated until she darted a wary look his way. So she’s kept quiet about seeing me in Texas. Interesting . Allowing his smile to warm, he added, “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Sage.”
    She mumbled something and still didn’t meet his eyes. Her cheeks flushed with color that betrayed her embarrassment.
    Celeste carried on as if she hadn’t noticed her friend’s lack of enthusiasm at his arrival. “I am trying to select a new painting for this parlor,” the older woman said. “Sage has brought me a lovely selection of Sage Anderson originals, but I’m afraid I’m having a horrible time making up my mind. Take a look at these, Colt. What do you think?”
    She had placed five canvases against the near wall. Colt glanced at them, then at Sage, then back at the paintings again. These works were done in the same vein as the ones he’d seen in Fort Worth. He couldn’t help himself. He shrugged and repeated the comment he’d previously made: “They’re … nice.”
    Then he took another bite of ice cream, giving the spoon a slow lick as he waited for her to react. He knew she’d remember the previous exchange, and he expected her to turn on him, scratching and hissing.
    Instead, when she finally looked at him, he saw the sheen of tears in her gorgeous green eyes. Immediately he felt like an ass. He hadn’t meant to make her cry. He’d been teasing. Didn’t she know that?
    Where was the woman whose eyes had shot fire at him in Texas?
    “Thank you.” She dismissed him with a polite smile, then turned to Celeste. “I think the butterflies work best in this room, Celeste. Why don’t we hang it and let you live with it awhile? If you decide it doesn’t suit, we’ll switch it out for another one.”
    “Yes, I like that idea.” Celeste beamed. “Thank you, dear. Colt, can you do the honors for me? You’ll find a hammer and nails downstairs in the kitchen drawer beside the refrigerator.”
    “Sure. I’m on it.”
    Actually, he was glad to escape the room. He needed a little time to think. How had he misread Sage Anderson so completely? He’d thought she liked to scrap and scrabble. Man, he couldn’t do anything right where that woman was concerned.
    Then, because he was a tenacious man, as he descended the staircase he said to himself, “Guess you’ll just have to try harder.”
    In the kitchen, he discovered the healing center’s director, Hunter Casey, pouring a cup of coffee. Colt understood that Celeste had lured Casey away from a facility in Southern California. The two men visited a few moments, and Colt congratulated him on Angel’s Rest’s at-capacity occupancy rate while he rinsed his now-empty dessert dish. When Elizabeth ducked in