Free Treasured by Sherryl Woods Page A

all these people, anyway? Surely they couldn’t all be suffering from the same sort of malaise that had gotten him out of the house. Wasn’t anybody content with their lives, anymore? Did everyone have to go shopping? He directed the last at the lineup of cars backed up in the turn lane to a mall.
    By comparison, Old Town Alexandria was relatively quiet and peaceful. There were still cobblestone sidewalks here and there and an abundance of charm. The big chain stores hadn’t made many inroads here. He parked off King Street and got out to walk. If he stayed away from the street where the family town house was, there was little chance he’d run into his aunt.
    Destiny was probably sitting in front of a fire with her feet tucked under her, a glass of wine at her side and some sort of needlework in hand. She’d recently taken up—and quit—crocheting and knitting. He suspected her attempts at cross-stitching wouldn’t last, either. Once she’d tried quilting and given up on that, he figured she might be ready to do some serious painting again. It was obvious to him that these other creative outlets were no match for the talent God had given her.
    Ben turned a corner on a street near the Potomac River and stopped short. There it was right in front of him, Kathleen’s gallery. The bold, modern paintings in the window weren’t to his taste, but he could appreciate the technique and the use of color. He wondered whathad drawn Kathleen to them. Was it the art or the artist?
    A black-and-white photo of the man had been blown up, along with a brief biography, and placed on an easel between the two paintings. The man wasn’t handsome in the conventional sense. His expression was too fierce, his eyes too close-set. Shifty looking, Ben concluded. He scowled at the portrait, feeling a startling streak of jealousy slice through him.
    Maybe if it hadn’t been for that, he would have ignored the light that was on in the back of the shop. Maybe he would have done the smart thing and crept away before getting caught lurking around outside Kathleen’s gallery like some lovesick kid.
    Instead, he walked over to the door, tried it, then pounded on the door frame hard enough to rattle the glass panels.
    When Kathleen emerged from the back, she looked as if she were mad enough to spit. Ben didn’t care. He wasn’t particularly happy himself.
    “What are you doing here?” she demanded as she jerked open the door. “I’m closed.”
    “I thought you were anxious for me to see the place,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets and avoiding her gaze. The impulse to drag her into his arms was almost impossible to resist. He wanted to feel her mouth under his again, wanted to taste her. Instead, he resorted to temper. “I can see that I came at a bad time, though. Forget it.”
    He turned to go, only to hear her mutter an oath he wouldn’t have expected to cross such perfect lips. Oddly, it made him smile.
    “Don’t go,” she said eventually. “You just caught me in a particularly foul mood. I wouldn’t even behere, except I was afraid if I stayed at home I’d start breaking things.”
    He turned back slowly. “Who put you in such a temper?” he asked curiously. “Or was it left over from our encounter this morning?”
    “You merely exasperated me. My mother’s the only person who can infuriate me.”
    “Ah, I see,” Ben said, though he didn’t. His own family relationships were complex, but rarely drove him to the kind of rage Kathleen had obviously been feeling before his arrival. He met her gaze. “Want to get out of here before you start slicing up the paintings?”
    She gave him a hard look. “I thought you came to see the paintings.”
    “So did I, but apparently I came to see you,” he admitted candidly. “Have you had dinner?”
    “No. I figured food and all that acid churning in my stomach would be a bad combination.”
    “As a rule, you’d probably be right, but I think we can deal with