Page 2 of The Artist

He groaned.He must be warming up.

When he awoke, she’d have to get him out of his clothes so they could dry.Thinking about what he could put on, she realized when Ed left her, he left one of his sweatsuits behind.It had been in the laundry, and she’d never given it back.That was two years ago.Why she’d kept the set, she didn’t have any idea since they were too big for her.But now she was glad she did.She also had a large sleep t-shirt he could wear under the hoodie.She went into the bedroom and laid them out on the bed along with a pair of warm wool socks.

That taken care of, she poured a cup of hot water and placed a tea bag in it.While it steeped, she’d try to wake him up.Lowering to her knees, she patted his face.“Peter.Peter, wake up.You’re safe now.Wake up.”

He groaned, then opened his deep blue eyes and looked at her.“Where am I?”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Seeing an angel with red hair.”

Alexis chuckled, amused that anyone would put her and angel in the same sentence.“I’ve been called a lot of things, but an angel was never one of them.”She sobered.“You need to get up.We have to get you out of your wet clothes or you’ll catch your death of pneumonia.”

He nodded.

At least, he seemed to understand her.

Peter threw the blanket to the side, rolled over, got to his knees, and then stood.

He was a good six inches taller and at least fifty pounds heavier than her, most of which was muscle, but she stayed right beside him in case he became light-headed.They would probably both go down if she tried to catch him, but she’d try anyway.

“Okay, good.Can you walk to the bedroom?”She pointed toward the door near the fireplace.

“Yes, I think so.”He walked into the bedroom.His steps were stilted, like maybe he’d frozen his feet, but otherwise he seemed to be pretty steady.

She followed him.Once in the room, she pointed at the clothes she’d laid on the bed for him.“Those should fit you and there are warm wool socks for you to put on, too.The sooner you get out of those clothes, the warmer you’ll be.”She pointed at the door to the left of the bedroom.“That’s the bathroom if you need it.”

He nodded.“I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

“The tea I made should be ready by then.”

She’d get to know him more after he’d donned the clothes on the bed.Chuckling, she thought how silly her bed must look.The king-sized bed took up practically the entire room, but she’d insisted on keeping it when she moved in here.The cabin was all she could afford to buy, while still being this close to Aspen and her gallery.And she liked being here.The cabin was cozy and comfortable.The cabin fit her personality to a T.

Peter returned wearing the sweatpants, t-shirt, hoodie, socks, and a smile.

She was pleased to see he was steadier on his feet, and his color was better.

“You must really love that bed.”He sat on one end of the sofa while she sat on the other.

Alexis threw her head back and laughed.“I do.It was the only thing I insisted on when Ed, my ex-lover, left.I let him have everything else, including all the credit card debt.Since he made most of it, he should have to pay it.Despite that, he actually was a good guy.We just didn’t have enough in common.”She gazed over at the bedroom.“I’ve had that bed for more than ten years now.It was the bed Jim and I bought.It has traveled around with me.Ed liked it too and wanted it when we broke up but I wasn’t about to let him have it.In the end, he realized he was being a dick.”

Peter smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.“I’m sorry you went through that.”

She waved off his comment.“Don’t be.The breakup was the best thing to happen to me.He was a rebound relationship, after my husband, Jim Armstrong, died.I’d known Ed in high school and then we went to college at the University of Colorado in Boulder.We went on a couple of dates to see if something was there but then I met Jim.He was it for me.All I wanted was to marry him and to have his babies.“ She stopped and took a shaky breath.

“You don’t have to tell me if it’s too painful.”

She shook her head and continued.“We’d been married almost five years when he got lung cancer and passed away.”She felt the tears come, as they always did, but she kept her eyes open until they dried and she could blink without them running down her cheeks.The technique was something she’d learned how to do long ago.“I’m sorry.You probably didn’t want to know all of that, it’s just I feel like I know you and trust you.”

“It’s all right.You studied art in collage, so you’re an artist?”

She shrugged.“Only in the most liberal sense of the word.I know art but I’m not an artist, by any stretch of the imagination.You on the other hand are the most gifted artist I’ve seen since Picasso.I love that you can work in so many mediums and still have that special something that attracts everyone to your art.”

Peter blushed and dropped his chin.He didn’t smile.

“I’ve made you some tea.It’s a wonderful blend my mother used to make with black tea and orange peels.Then you can tell me why you were out in a blizzard?”

The cabin was one bedroom.The main room was the living room, which took up one side and contained a sofa, coffee table, one overstuffed chair, one end table with a radio on it, and a small square dining table with two ladderback wooden chairs.The other side of the room was the kitchen.On the inside wall and in the middle of the two rooms, was an enormous stone fireplace.She’d left the bedroom door open so as much heat as possible went in there.