Maddie chuckled weakly, her eyes rooted on the road. “Well, it’s just…I mean, Stuart’s art is nothing like mine. His work is so, you know…well, he’s been compared to Calder and Picasso, for God’s sake. His art is…well, anyway, different from mine. I guess I thought you preferred his more abstract style.”

This was the first time she had heard Maddie sound anything but sure of herself. Stuart was like this about his work, too, she remembered. No matter how many people told him how great his pieces were, he always doubted himself and needed constant reassurance. Maybe all artists are like that, she thought.

She put a gloved hand on Maddie’s arm, and Maddie glanced over at her and away again, still appearing uncertain, nervous.

“I really love it, Maddie,” she said. “Honestly—it’s gorgeous. I want to see more of your work.”

Maddie beamed at her this time. They were waiting at a red light, and Maddie grabbed her hand. She squeezed it back, returning the smile as warmly as she could.

Maddie wiped her brow, dramatically. “Whew! I was really nervous about showing you.”

“You shouldn’t be. You’re incredibly talented.”

Maddie kept smiling, her face very red now, and someone honked behind them. The light had turned green.

“Whoops,” Maddie said, and returned her attention to driving.

“Are your other pieces like that?” she asked.

Maddie shrugged. “Most aren’t that big, but yes, like I said, I do a lot of animals. All my public pieces are animals, anyway. I have a family of deer here in the Benson Sculpture Garden, a big grizzly bear in downtown Denver, an elk in Aspen, some otters in Anchorage, some quail in Cheyenne, and now there will be the dogs in Longmont. I can usually do a commission once a year or so.”

She took a moment to absorb this information. She’d learned the sculpture foundries here in town were famous and that Stuart had been very excited to be selected to work here, but she hadn’t given much thought to the other artists. Of course they, too, would be as talented as he was, and of course they would likely have different styles. Not everyone could or wanted to do the same kind of art. When Stuart had started working in bronze and other metals about a decade ago, it had been such a big production to get his works cast. Here, apparently, artists had space for both the molding and the casting.

“I’d love to see the studio sometime,” she said. “If I’m allowed to visit.”

“You certainly are. One of us can take you over there while you’re in town.”

“Or both of you?”

“Sure. We can ask Stuart about it when we get there.”

“What? Where? I thought we were going to a venue.”