82For the next two days, Becca did her chores, and though she always expected him to appear, he did not. Walt and Gaby had convinced her to stay at the forge, saying that if he followed her there, he would be breaking inn rules and that it might be easier to force him to leave. She had acquiesced, mostly because she was engrossed in painting.
Becca sat by the metal horse long after the sun had set, several unfinished paintings on the floor at her feet. She retrieved another piece of paper and started again on the image of the horses as they crossed the sparkling river.
Not far away, three young men sat in folding chairs by a bend in the stream.
“Hey, grab me another beer, Chris.”
“Got it, Justin!” A burly twenty-year-old wearing cargo shorts and hiking books, dipped a hand into a coole
