Page 9 of Adored By the Wolf

“Oh, yes. Always.” I had tried to sound positive, because ‘always’ wasn’t the right word for our family trips.

I saw him arch a brow at this, but I turned to walk toward the next painting.

“These flowers are beautiful,” he said.

“They’re both my and my mom’s favorite.”

“What are they?”

“Gladioluses.”

“Good to know.”

The way he was looking at me made me clench my fingers together so they wouldn’t involuntarily reach out to touch him.

We moved on to each painting like this until we got to the very last one. My heart clenched at the sight of it. I hadn’t known Dad had painted this scene until I saw it yesterday hanging up here on the wall, the images exposing my secret for all to see. How could Dad do this? I had breathed a sigh of relief at closing time yesterday when no one had voiced interest in it.

“Wow,” he said.

I kept silent, waiting to see if he had any opinion on the piece. So far, he hadn’t said a word as I walked him around the other paintings. Poppies in California, corn fields in Illinois, the Eiffel Tower in Paris—all of them painted with the ‘thought of the customer in mind.’ They were all scenes from our family trips. It never made sense to me how Dad would know who his customers were when his paintings seemed to have no connection to one another, and yet, they always sold.

“This is the one,” Jacob announced.

“Yeah?”How?The woman in red was turned away from us, her long black hair cascading down her back. The sun was low behind her, casting a golden glow through the canopy of trees on the secluded spot where she sat looking into a body of water. To her right was a cave opening, where two yellow eyes looked at the woman, but not with malice. The creature was a wolf, and Dad had captured its essence perfectly. He was lying down on his front paws, eyes focused on the girl.

This scene had appeared in my dreams when I was four. It continued to haunt me in my sleep when I least expected it, often waking me up in the middle of the night. I was filled with anxiety as to what it meant.

Lira and my parents had made me tell them about it after the third time I woke up, scared and drenched in sweat. Never again did I make that mistake. She was one minute older than me and took it upon herself to be my protector, doing dances around me before we went to bed to ward off evil spirits. It got to be too much, and at one point I had to tell her I wasn’t having the dream anymore, but truth be told, it hadn’t left and still came on when I was super tired. I knew it was a large reason why I was drawn to secluded areas. Being in nature made me feel like I was coming closer to the meaning of this dream.

The eyes in Dad’s paintings always drew me in. Dad had the ability to paint a living creature with simple, firm strokes and make them come alive. You could feel their emotions—their anger, passion, or happiness jumping off the canvas. In this case, it seemed like the wolf was content. The painting was personal to me, and I hated to see it hanging here. If Dad had told me he had it, I would have asked him to let me keep it.

“It speaks to me,” he said.

But it’s mine!I should have asked Dad for it yesterday. Maybe I would ask him today and pay for it if I had to. I would do anything to stop Jacob from buying it.

“I’ll take it. But this one will be for me. Can your Dad commission two more similar ones for my brothers?”

“You want it for yourself?” I couldn’t subdue my incredulous tone.

“Yes. Like I said, it speaks to me. I love the feeling of contentment it gives off.”

“Oh.”Think, Millie, think! He can’t have it!Shoot! He’s waiting for me to speak.Releasing a breath, I said,“I’m so glad you love this painting. Unfortunately, this particular one has been chosen by someone else. It’s here because the person can’t have it delivered until his house is built, so it’s on loan with us until he can take it. I’m sorry, I just remembered.” That sounded plausible, right? Dad had a client like that once. He put a deposit down and had us hold it for him—only a week, though—but it was possible a client would want us to hold on to it for longer, right? I kept my face as neutral as I could and waited for him to respond.

“I see . . .”

Why was he looking at me like that? What was he thinking? I remained silent, not willing to add to my lies.

“Well, I guess I’ll admire it from afar,” he said after a moment.

I let out an audible sigh and instantly blushed. He didn’t seem to notice, though, as he was looking at the painting. I wondered why this one spoke to him so much. It was more mystical than Dad’s other paintings, like a fairy world hidden in a secret place.

“Thank you for the tour,” Jacob announced.

That snapped me out of my thoughts. “Were there any other paintings you were interested in?”

“No, just this one. Are you here for the rest of the weekend? I’d like to come and chat with you about a commission.”

“Yes.”