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cell phone. “You’d better call him now. Berlin is eight hours ahead of us. By the time you call, it could be the early hours of tomorrow morning.”

With a pounding heart, Penny took the phone.

“Text me when you’ve finished,” Barbara said. “I’ll need to reset the alarm before you leave.” And as silently as her sisters had walked through the house, they left. And now it was up to Penny to thank Wyatt for the painting. Except she didn’t know where to start.

Chapter 18

Wyatt closed the door of the hotel’s business center and walked toward the elevators. The one thing he disliked above everything else before an exhibition was talking to the media. And the more well-known he’d become, the longer it took.

His agent had been on hand to answer any questions he wasn’t willing to discuss. But, unlike other interviews, most of the sessions today had focused on the letter Wyatt, Penny, and her sisters had found in the dresser in Sapphire Bay.

It was an easy topic to discuss because they still hadn’t heard from the Smithsonian Institute. Diana was keeping him updated with any relevant news, and Barbara was looking after Penny.

His first week away from Sapphire Bay had been stressful. Not because of the exhibition—the gallery owner was one of the most efficient he’d worked with—but because of the way he’d left Montana.

He missed Penny more than he thought possible.

On his first day in Berlin, he’d downloaded an app that took him on a self-guided walking tour of Museum Island. Filled with several world-famous museums, the island was full of wonderful architecture, statues, and trees. Penny would have loved the gardens. The carefully chosen plants added shape and form to the green spaces between the buildings.

Since then, his time in Berlin had been filled with one meeting after another. At least his paintings had arrived safely and looked their best in the gallery.

He pushed the elevator button and waited to be whisked to the tenth floor.

Tonight, all going well, he was meeting the person who managed the residency program for the Berlin Academy of Arts. It would be a chance to ask questions and hear first-hand what was required of him during his twelve-month contract.

As he left the elevator, his cell phone rang. “Wyatt Johnson speaking. How can I help you?”

“Hi. It’s Penny.”

Her call was so unexpected that he nearly dropped the phone. “Are you still there?”

“I’m here.”

“Good. That’s good. How are you?” Wyatt closed his eyes. Surely he could have thought of something else to say? It was almost as bad as asking about the weather.

“I’m okay. We’re working hard to finish Grandma’s house before our first Bed and Breakfast guests arrive.”

“Diana said you were…” Jeez. Now he was admitting he was keeping tabs on what she was doing.

“It’s okay, Wyatt. Diana and Barbara told me what you’d asked them to do. Though you might have to talk to Katie. She’s slightly put out that you didn’t ask her to do anything.”

The heat of a blush streaked across his face. Thank goodness she wasn’t here to see him. “I didn’t think you’d appreciate me calling you, so Diana and Barbara were the next best thing.”

He heard Penny sigh.

“You’re probably right. How are the preparations for your exhibition going?”

After a slight hesitation, he decided not to tell her they would be going better if she were here. Penny had enough happening without having to deal with his insecurities. “They’re going well. I finished the last of the media interviews this afternoon. I have a meeting tonight, then a free day before the exhibition opens.”

“It sounds as though you’re busy.”

“I am. But not too busy for you to call me,” he added quickly. If he sounded desperate to hear her voice, he couldn’t help it. Just knowing she’d taken the time to talk to him meant a lot.

“You’re probably wondering why I called? I wanted to thank you for giving us the portrait.”

Wyatt opened the door to his room. “That’s okay. I couldn’t imagine it staying with anyone else except your family.”

“But you spent months painting the picture. Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“I’m positive. You told me you don’t have a lot of photos of your grandma when she was young. Now you have the photo and a large portrait to remind you of where you’ve come from.”

“That’s really generous of you.”

Wyatt sat on the end of his bed wishing he could give her what she really wanted. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“It’s all hands on deck for a painting extravaganza in the attic.”

His lips twitched. “You make it sound exciting.”

“It would be if you were here.” He heard Penny’s sharp intake of breath. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”

“It’s okay. I’m sorry I’m not there, too.” The silence on the other end of the phone was deafening. “Are you still there?”

“I’m here.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Forget I said that.”

“I don’t want to.”

Wyatt rubbed his hand across his forehead. “I don’t want you to, either. I miss you, Penny. Are you sure we can’t be friends and see what happens when we next see each other?” More silence. His last-ditch attempt to keep in contact with her had probably ruined whatever relationship they still had.

“What would being your friend mean?”

He wanted it to mean everything, but he was willing to grovel at her feet just to hear her voice. “We could call each other. Talk about what’s happening and things like that.” He shook his head. No one in their right mind would want to speak to someone who was having trouble stringing more than two sentences together.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

Penny laughed. “Yes, I will be your friend, Wyatt Johnson. But I have to go. I need to talk to Pastor John about some curtains.”

“Will you call me tomorrow?”

“All right. What time?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

There was a brief hesitation before Penny said, “I’ll call you at noon, your time.”

Relief surged through him. “That sounds perfect.”

After he ended the call, he dropped the phone onto

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