Read Online Return by Karen Kingsbury - Free Book Online Page A

her heart? When no one-not even her mother-would ever see her work?
    The answer rang clear in her mind.
    Bloomington had a few galleries scattered among the quaint shops not far from campus. But the hottest spot, the one place other than Paris where she would’ve died to have her paintings hung, was New York City. Downtown Manhattan on Broadway or Fifth Avenue or one of the streets adjacent to Central Park and the Metropolitan Art Museum.
    In that instant, Ashley knew what she had to do.
    She thought about it while she returned to the kitchen and finished dinner for Cole. Thought about it after she put him to bed and throughout the long night when all she could imagine was how she would do it and who she would talk to and what she would say.
    She had the next morning off, and by then, she had a plan.
    With Cole busy out back, she sat at her computer, went online, and made a comprehensive list of galleries in New York City. Then she phoned them one at a time and explained her situation.
    She was an artist with experience in Paris and a roomful of original pieces.
    The responses were varied: “We’re full.”
    “The gallery down the street’s looking for new talent. Call them.”
    “Four years’ gallery experience is a must before anyone here would be interested.”
    But Ashley didn’t give up. For the next week she used every spare moment to contact galleries. With each passing day she fought discouragement, fought the memory of JeanClaude’s voice and the fact that she’d never been so bold as to take a single painting to even a local gallery since coming home from Paris. If she was going to work at it like Landon worked at fires-like Kari worked at helping people and Erin worked at teaching and 48
    k i n g s b u r y smalley
    Brooke worked at medicine-then she could hardly let a few rejections stop her.
    At the end of her second week of phone calls she got a bite. “Do you have a Web site?”
    A Web site! Ashley’s heart jumped, and she had to slow herself down so her words didn’t jumble. She had all the material for a Web site. It wouldn’t take Erin’s husband more than a few hours to put the digital pictures of her artwork onto a simple Web site.
    “I should have it up by the end of the week.” She closed her eyes and grinned.
    “But I can send you a few pictures of my work by E-mail if you want.”
    The woman at the other end yawned, and the sound of someone typing filled the line. “Umm, E-mail. Right, okay. Sure.” She rattled off an address. “Send it to me and I’ll get back to you in a few weeks.”
    Ashley hung up, Emailed photographs of ten of her best pieces to the New York gallery, and seconds later had Sam on the phone, convincing him to come by after work and bring Erin. She’d serve dinner and visit with Erin while Sam put together a Web site for her.
    “It’s about time, Ashley.” He was at work, but he didn’t seem rushed.
    “Meaning what?” She sat back in her chair, dazed by the number of calls she’d made that week.
    “You’re a brilliant artist.” He hesitated. “I told Erin months ago you were crazy to keep those paintings in your living room when they’d make such a hit out in the world. I’d love to build you a Web site.”
    “You would? You did … you told Erin that?” She ran her fingers through her short hair. Why hadn’t he ever told her? “You really think that?”
    “The whole family thinks that.” He chuckled. “But no one wanted to tell you.”
    Ashley’s mouth dropped open. “The whole family?”
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    I
    “Sure.” Sam gave a loud exhale. “We’ve talked about it a lot, whenever you’re not around.”
    “How come no one ever told me?” Sam paused. “Want the truth?”
    “Definitely.” Ashley felt the color drain from her face. Her family had believed in her all along, but none of them had ever said a word.
    “Because, Ashley, whatever happened to you in Paris must have been terrible. You came back a different person.” The sincerity