She hurried to the door and out into the night. Then she began to run, stumbling through the grass until she got to the chief’s car. Dean wanted everything from her, and he was giving her nothing in return. Nothing except his heart, which was just as fragile as hers.

Chapter Twenty-five

First Blue painted a series of gypsy caravans, some tucked into secret coves, others traveling down country roads toward distant arrays of minarets and gilded onion domes. Then she moved on to bird’s-eye views of magical villages with crooked streets, prancing white horses, and an occasional fairy perched on a chimney pot. She painted like a madwoman, barely finishing one canvas before she began another. She stopped sleeping, barely ate. As she completed each piece, she tucked it away.

“You’re hiding your light under a bushel just like Riley was doing,” Nita declared to Blue over the noise in the Barn Grill on a Sunday morning in mid-September two months after Dean had gone back to Chicago. “Until you’ve got the courage to let people see your work, you’ve lost my respect.”

“That’ll keep me up at night,” Blue retorted. “And don’t act like no one’s seen them. I know you sent Dean copies of those digital photos you made me take.”

“I still can’t believe him and those parents of his sold their private story to that filthy tabloid. I nearly had a heart attack when I saw that headline. ‘Football Star Is Jack Patriot’s Love Child.’ They should have had more dignity.”

“That filthy tabloid was the highest bidder,” Blue pointed out. “And you’ve subscribed to it for years.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Nita sniffed.

The print story had broken the second week of August with Dean, Jack, and April’s sole television interview not long after. April told Blue that Dean had decided to give up his secrets the day of Nita’s birthday party. Jack had gotten so choked up he’d barely been able to talk. They’d decided to sell the story to the highest bidder, using the money they received to set up a family foundation supporting organizations that helped hard-to-place children find permanent families. Riley alone had protested. She’d wanted to give the money to puppies.

Blue talked to all of them on the phone—everyone except Dean. April didn’t volunteer much information about him, and Blue couldn’t ask.

Nita tugged on a ruby earring. “The whole world’s gone crazy, you ask me. There were four RVs hogging up the parking spaces in front of that new bookstore yesterday. Next thing you know, we’ll have a McDonald’s on every corner. And why you told the Garrison Women’s Club they could meet at my house from now on, I’ll never know.”