Dancing to a magic only she could feel.
If he had any doubts before, they were vanished at the sight of Winter MacKeage the artist.
And one way or another, Matt decided, he would find a way to capture some of that magic for himself.
Chapter Seven
W inter hadn’t been bluffing upon the mountain: if Matt told Tom he had to move out of his cabin, she wasn’t taking his commission. She’d be danged if she would work for a man who didn’t have a heart.
Winter led the silent procession along the shoreline to the tiny clearing and stopped in front of Tom’s cabin. She quickly slid down off Snowball and headed out back to the workshop.
“Tom,” she called as she rounded the side of the cabin. “I forgot my jacket this morning.”
Tom emerged from the workshop, once again taking the time to wrestle the rickety door shut before he turned and greeted her with a crooked grin. “I’m glad your head is attached to your shoulders, or you probably would have forgotten that, too.”
“Tom,” Winter said softly, rushing up to him. “The guy who bought Bear Mountain is here.”
“Good. I’ve been looking forward to meeting your Mr. Gregor ever since you told me about him this morning,” Tom said calmly, using his finger under her chin to close her gaping mouth.
Winter spun around and followed Tom as he headed to the front of the cabin. Tom reached Megan just as Matt had finished helping her down off her horse. Turning Winter’s sister around to face him, Tom folded her into a warm, grandfatherly embrace.
“It’s good to see you out and about, Meg,” he said, kissing her forehead, then leaning back with a tender smile. “I’ve been waiting for you to come visit me.” He brushed Megan’s hair back into place. “I have something for you.”
Megan shook her head with a laugh. “No more chocolates, Tom. I’m getting fat.”
“No chocolates,” he said, stepping away. “It’s something I made just for you.” Tom turned to face Matt and held out his hand. “Name’s Tom, Mr. Gregor. Welcome to Bear Mountain. You own a very special piece of land.”
Winter held her breath as the two men faced each other.
“So I’ve been discovering,” Matt said, reaching out and shaking Tom’s hand. He looked around the tiny clearing, then brought his gaze back to Tom. “But you should know, having lived here for over two years.”
Tom nodded. “I do,” he agreed, heading for his cabin. “Megan, come see your surprise.” He stopped and looked at Winter. “Don’t take their bridles off,” he told her. “The sun sets in another hour, and you have to be back in town by then.”
“We were planning to watch the sunset from the high meadow,” Matt said, still standing beside Megan’s horse.
Tom looked at him. “I want the girls out of the woods by dark.”
Matt narrowed his eyes. “Because of the panther?”
“What panther?” Winter asked, drawing Matt’s attention. “The one in the painting in my gallery?” She shook her head. “I just felt like painting a jungle cat.”
“That’s not what I heard in town yesterday. Rumor has it a large black panther has been seen around TarStone Mountain.” Matt looked over at Tom. “I have a gun rolled up in my jacket.”
Winter grew alarmed. “You brought a gun? Why?”
Matt just lifted a brow at her.
“Because he’s a smart man,” Tom said, looking directly at Matt and nodding. “But it’s not four-legged animals you’re likely to tangle with after dark, but two-legged poachers trying to get a jump on hunting season.” He studied Matt for several seconds and then said, “You want to see a sunset from the meadow, I’ll take you up there tomorrow afternoon.”
Matt contemplated his tenant in silence, glanced briefly at Winter, then nodded to Tom. “I’ll be here at three.”
Winter became even more alarmed. What was Tom doing? Didn’t he realize Matt could kick him out of his home?
But then she relaxed. Maybe their spending time together would work in Tom’s favor. Maybe once Matt realized how harmless Tom was, he wouldn’t care that her friend was living out here on the point. Heck, Matt might even consider it a plus, to have someone overseeing his land when he was in New York.
Yeah, maybe Tom knew exactly what he was doing.
Tom turned and went into his cabin while Megan stood beside the door. He reemerged with a small object in his hands, bundled in a towel. Both Winter and Matt moved closer to see.
“I started it when you came home last month, finished it just last week,” Tom told Megan, holding the bundle in one hand and slowly peeling away the towel. “But I was waiting until you came out here to visit me to give it to you.”
Megan’s eyes widened the moment her gift was revealed, her gaze shooting to Tom before looking back at the wooden figure.
“It’s beautiful,” Winter said on an indrawn breath, stepping even closer.
“Take it, Meg,” Tom said softly. “It’s not as delicate as it looks. I carved it from oak. You won
’t break it.”
Megan finally reached out and carefully took the foot-tall carving of a bear. “Oh, she’s got a cub tucked in her legs,” Megan said, turning the figure to study it. She looked up at Tom again, and Winter saw the sheen of tears welling up in her eyes. “She…she’s beautiful,” Megan said, dropping her gaze back to the mother bear. “And her tiny cub. It’s looking up with an expression of such…such…”
Megan’s voice trailed off as her throat closed with emotion.
“With trust,” Tom finished for her. “And love.” He reached out and tucked Megan’s hair behind her ear. “That cub knows his mother loves him more than life itself. And he trusts her to protect him. It’s a bond that began in the womb, Megan.”
Megan clasped the mother and cub to her chest, brushed away an escaping tear, and rose up and gave Tom a kiss on his reddened cheek. “Th-thank you,” she whispered. “I love it.”
“You set it by your bedside,” Tom softly told her. “So at night when you sleep, you’ll dream of your own little cub growing inside you. Bears are fierce protectors, Megan, as well as symbols of healing.
And you,” he said, lifting her chin to make her look at him. “You, Megan MacKeage, have the heart of a bear.”
Winter felt her own eyes misting as she stared at the figure clutched to her sister’s chest. She had seen many of Tom’s carvings over the last two years, but this one…this one outshone all the others.
The expression on the mother bear’s broad face was fierce and loving and proud as she looked down at her tiny defenseless cub.
Tom gave Megan’s shoulder a pat, then suddenly turned to Winter with a crooked smile. “You don’t get your gift for three more months, so don’t even ask. Besides,” he said, tucking her arm through his and leading her over to Snowball, “you need to practice your patience.”
But just as Tom bent over to lace his fingers together to make her a step, another set of strong hands took hold of her waist and lifted her into the saddle. Winter managed only to give a small squeak this time, and turned and glared down at Matt. Tom chuckled and headed to the cabin, shaking his head.
Matt returned her glare with a triumphant smile, turned, and took the rewrapped bundle from Megan and carefully stowed it in her saddlebag. Then he leaned over, laced his fingers together and helped Winter’s still-emotional sister mount up.
Tom came out of the cabin carrying Winter’s jacket. “You head straight home on the shoreline path,” he instructed, handing her the jacket. “I’ll be at your gallery early in the morning to settle up. I noticed my large moose carving has sold.”