Everlastin' Book 1 Read Online Free Page A

any
attention.”
    Carlene walk toward the door
they'd come through. Again it struck Beth there was something
deeply disturbing her friend. She followed Carlene nearly to the
door, but stopped to look over a magnificent fireplace to her
left.
    The facing was of Victorian
marble, the lining and hearth of glazed, red tiles and a back of
iron. The mantel bore wax flowers and fruits under glass domes,
several carved pipes on brass stands, and two fan-tailed brass
peacocks.
    Beth breathed ever so
sparingly. Her first impression of the room had been that it was
exquisitely feminine, but now she realized, amidst the vibrant
dashes of colors, it was the most masculine room she'd ever been
in. She was about to voice her admiration of the decor when she
happened to look up at a painting hanging above the mantelpiece.
Her jaw went slack. Her blood plummeted to her feet.
    Carlene gripped the brass
knob of the door, her knuckles whitening under the strain as she
looked up at the portrait.
    She knew she should despise
it, want to haul it down and destroy it in recompense for the grief
it had brought her during the past months. But it was impossible
for her heart not to fill with pride at her ability to have
captured the real Beth on canvas, that free spirit within her
friend that was most times hidden behind the woman's
shyness.
    “I don't believe this,” Beth
murmured.
    In their twelfth year at
Kennewick High School, Carlene had talked her into letting her
paint her portrait. And there Beth sat in the painting, amidst a
field of wildflowers, her riotous, light brown curls dancing on a
breeze. The lace, strapless dress Carlene had loaned her was
flapping about a bent knee that her forearms casually rested upon.
In the background, shafts of sunlight gleamed on the Columbia
River.
    “Now you see why I wanted to
keep it,” Carlene said softly. “I think I must have known there
would one day be a place like this to display it.”
    Although Beth was
embarrassed by the blatant carefreeness depicted of her in the
painting, she couldn't have been more pleased with it having a
place in such a house.
    “It looks pretty good up
there,” she admitted, her cheeks glowing with a rosy blush. She
looked at the shorter woman and shrugged. “It actually looks damn good hanging there.
Hey, so when am I going to meet this dashing husband of
yours?”
    Masking her hesitation,
Carlene turned toward the door. “He's in Edinburgh on business.
This is lousy timing, kiddo, but I'm going to have to take off in a
little while to get him.”
    “How far is
Edinburgh?”
    Carlene reached for the
heaviest of the two suitcases in the hall, but Beth was quick to
take it in hand. Lifting the smaller one, Carlene started up the
stairs.
    “It's a long drive, so we'll
probably stay at a B&B for the night—”
    Speaking as she turned her
head to look at Beth, another sight caused her gasp.
    Beth was on the second step
when she glanced over her shoulder. The instant she looked into the
face of the man standing at the bottom of the steps, she felt icy
fingers of fear clutch at her heart. She didn't know exactly what
caused this reaction, but a glance revealed Carlene frozen on the
sixth step.
    “You're just in time to
carry Miss Staples' bags to her room,” Carlene said, her
authoritative tone strained. “Beth, this is the groundskeeper I
told you about.”
    Beth looked again at the man
and detected a glint of expectancy in his nearly-black eyes. It
took her aback. He had a remarkable face, angles and ruggedness
that possessed a powerful magnetism to the female eye, hers no
exception. But when he tried to take the suitcase from her hand,
she stubbornly tightened her grip.
    “I can manage, thank you,”
Beth said self-consciously.
    “Swallow yer pride, lass,”
he chided, his eyes staring into hers with uncanny
boldness.
    A vague sense of familiarity
touched Beth, planting the notion in her mind that she had known
this man in another life—which was absurd, since