Chapter Seven
Geller didn’t have much for her to do after lunch since the campground wasn’t that busy yet, so he gave her the afternoon off, saying she looked as if she needed some rest. Casey wondered how it could be that obvious, but she was happy to gather her things and head down to the water to paint.
She’d been sketching throughout the long winter, immersed in all the variations of snow white and storm gray that appeared throughout the landscape. She’d spent a long time on a series of deer tracks in dark charcoal lines blushed over with watercolor blues to depict the tone and edge of the ice. On the stretches when there was no light or fresh snow and everything muddled into gray, she’d looked for the browns in the trees and the shades of darkness in the frozen ground. The signs tha
