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feeling a bit out of her element. She never was much of a cook, but she followed directions very well. Under Mary’s careful supervision, a lasagna and a Caesar salad were on the table by six o’clock.
    Mary chattered throughout the dinner, but Beth’s mind drifted in and out of the conversation. Her thoughts were filled with new ideas. She reviewed the day’s sights and sounds as she satisfied her healthy appetite with bites of lasagna and garlic bread. Beth caught her reflection in the window and was surprised at how serene, and even youthful, she looked. Barely a week had passed since she bid farewell to the adobe-dotted hills of Albuquerque, but her journey had already transcended the geographical distance.

Chapter 4
    Follow Me
    Beth awoke on Friday morning, briefly disturbed by the memory of the firefly racing at an unnatural speed toward her bay window. She glanced around the room for a moment, trying to get her bearings. The bed and breakfast, she remembered, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Brushing away her anxious feelings, she decided to greet the day with enthusiasm. After all, she was eager to set up the studio, paint a preliminary draft of The Virginia Point Cove, and possibly unpack her gardening gear. The pitiful little garden would need attention soon. There were too many things to do.
    After she showered and ate breakfast, she attempted to offer Mary some financial compensation for her stay at The Cove.
    “Nonsense. Just paint me a hell of a picture.”
    Beth bought a few staples at the grocery store on the way home, put away the milk and cheese, and ran upstairs to the studio. The morning sun gave the room a warm and inviting glow. Beth hummed softly and returned to the task of assembling the drawers, which would hold various sizes and types of paper as well as large sheets of canvas.
    Lou puttered around the house clanging tools against pipes, but he did not disturb Beth. She found his presence somewhat comforting. After about forty-five minutes, Lou called up the stairs. “Beth?”
    “Yes?” She jumped to her feet and headed down the hallway.
    “Everything should be good now.”
    “You’re the best, Lou. Thank you,” she said as she descended the stairs. “You will bill Mr. Thompson?”
    “Yes, ma’—” he began. “Ahem. Yes, and don’t you worry about old Rod. He’ll pay me. And if he don’t, I’ll just come collecting a painting or two from you.” He winked at her, waved hastily, and made his way to the door.
    “Thank you for your hospitality the past couple of nights.”
    “Our pleasure,” he called over his shoulder as he walked along the stepping stones leading to the gravel drive.
    Beth returned to the studio. Once the drawers were set up, she unpacked the remaining things and hauled all the empty boxes to the side of the house. By then it was late morning, but she wanted to get a little work under her belt before lunch. She pulled out her preliminary sketch of the bed and breakfast and arranged it neatly on one of the easels. On the other easel, she put a thick piece of eighteen by twenty-four inch, acid-free paper. After that she mixed colors on a palette and stood back, looking at both the sketch and the empty piece of paper. The first go would be for practice. She would need to visit The Cove again at sunrise, make more details on her sketch, and soak in the radiant colors highlighted by the early morning sun.
    Beth found she captured the light better when she painted from the images she tucked away in her mind. The sketch helped her fill in the details. Her habit in high school had been to make a detailed sketch of the object in the room and then turn her canvas away when it was time to paint. At first it drove her teacher crazy, but as her obvious talent emerged, he allowed her the space to practice her art in whatever fashion suited her.
    That morning in the studio, she planned to experiment with color. On the following day, if she was ready, she would head over to