Chapter Twenty-Five
Soon Casey was busier at the camp than she’d ever been. It wasn’t like she was doing so much more than she had under Geller, since she’d already taken over most of the work. But she was conscious of her desire to do a good job and assure him the camp was in safe hands.
It helped to be occupied, though. When she wasn’t chopping wood or arranging sites or scheduling reservations, she kept herself constantly moving. There had been weeks after the show that she hadn’t painted at all, but now she couldn’t stop generating new work. It was as though the whole mountain range was alive. Every time she turned her head, something new crashed into her, begging to be seen.
She ignored Geoffrey’s voice and kept the canvases in the shed, under her bed, anywhere they would fit. Some
