"OH, KARA, IT’S gorgeous. They’re all fabulous." She smiled at her. "As always," she added. Stephanie sorted through the paintings, her eyes drawn again to the giant tree and Kara instantly regretted her decision to sell it. It was too personal. She didn’t want a stranger peering at it, imagining who the lovers were, imagining it was themselves in that embrace.

But it had become too painful for even Kara to look at.

"I’ll have them displayed within the week," Stephanie said. "This one is intriguing," she said, her hands touching Kara’s painting. "It’s different from what you normally do." She looked up and smiled. "I may want to keep this one. Just display it for awhile." She stared at Kara. "By the way, what are you doing back in town?"

"Recuperating," Kara said easily.

"Oh?" Stephanie asked with interest.

"I was out in the woods for a month or so," she said. "I’ve only been back five weeks." Five weeks and two days, her mind counted, since she’d seen Ginny.

"You’re getting too old for that. Time for you to settle," she said.

Kara smiled, taking one last look at the giant tree, at the shadows on its bark. She wanted to settle. She wanted to settle in a little town called Chiwaukum, with a green-eyed blond who had stolen her heart and soul.

"I’ve got to go," she said quietly.

"I’ll be in touch," Stephanie called after her.

Kara drove to the nearest liquor store, bypassing her usual wine for a bottle of scotch. Once home, she poured a generous amount and walked to the shore, cigarette hanging comfortably between her fingers and she ignored the light mist falling.

For the past five weeks, she had been making this trip to the water, looking for answers. She had wanted to call her, but she hadn’t dared. She didn’t want to bother her. She didn’t want to stir up memories. And it was better this way, she told herself. Each day it got easier.

She laughed bitterly. Who was she kidding? Certainly not herself. Each day was harder than the one before. Each day Ginny’s memory came to her more clearly. Each night, Ginny’s touch was heavier on her body.

Maybe she should go out. Maybe she should call up an old friend and have dinner or something. Or something. The thought of being with someone else simply nauseated her. She wanted no one else. She wanted only Ginny.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

GINNY TOOK THE ferry to Bainbridge Island, wondering frantically where she would start looking. The phone book had proved useless. Kara was not listed among the Morgans and the operator had firmly told her it was an unlisted number. No amount of begging by Ginny had budged him.

She was looking for a needle in a haystack, she realized as she drove down the highway, turning off on each side road that looked like it would take her to the water. She hadn’t realized how many small towns dotted the island and Kara could live in any one of them. It was a fruitless trip, she knew, but she kept driving and searching. She had to find her.

When darkness came, she turned around, heading back to the ferry and Seattle. She would have dinner, she thought, and maybe call up one of her old friends. They could sit around and talk about her miserable love life! She could just image the look on their faces should she confess that she had fallen in love with a woman.

She could always walk to Capitol Hill, the unofficial gay neighborhood of Seattle. Maybe stroll down Broadway for an hour or so and have dinner at one of the restaurants there. In spite of her mood, that sounded much more appealing than room service and another night alone.

She parked two blocks away, the foot traffic heavy on a Saturday night and she blended in with the crowd. She found herself staring at the two women walking in front of her, holding hands. They were young, early twenties, she thought, but still, they looked so comfortable with each other. She immediately thought of Kara and pictured them walking arm and arm like this. She tore her eyes away and looked at other faces, strangers in the crowd. She walked into the indoor mall, pushing through the milling shoppers. Coffee. Real Seattle coffee. She stood in line at the coffee bar, dying for a real latte after months of relying on her portable espresso machine.

She took her coffee and stopped at the newspaper stand, the local gay paper catching her eye. She bought one, taking it to a table with her.

It was all there. Bars, diners, bookstores and any other gay-oriented activity she could possibly want. To say she was surprised was an understatement. She just had no idea how large the gay community was in Seattle. She knew now that she had purposefully ignored that part of city before.

She flipped through the pages, looking for women’s bars. Perhaps Kara was right. Maybe she did need to explore her newfound sexuality. Maybe she was rushing things with Kara.

Of course she wasn’t, though. She knew how she felt about Kara. But it wouldn’t hurt to look, she told herself. Kara obviously didn’t want her. With that, she went back to her hotel to change and to mentally prepare herself for a night out on the town.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

KARA STOOD STARING at the empty canvas, brush in hand, when the knocking on her door disrupted her thoughts. Who? No one knew she was back.

Marsha. Kara’s breath caught at the sight of her. She hadn’t seen her in over a year. She was as beautiful as ever

"My God, look at you," Marsha said and raised up on tiptoe to kiss her lips.

Kara smiled, surprised at how glad she was to see her. "What in the world are you doing here?"

"Can’t I visit an old friend?" Marsha asked.

Kara shut the door and followed Marsha inside, smelling the perfume that she remembered from long ago.

"When Stephanie told me you were back, I said, no, it can’t be. It’s still summer. You should be out camping or something, looking for your colors," she said, with just a hint of bitterness in her voice.

"I came back early," Kara said.

"You never did that for me."

Their eyes met and Kara smiled. "Did you come here to fight?"

Marsha pulled out a cigarette and waited for Kara to light it. "No. I came to visit," she said.

Kara poured them each a glass of scotch and shoved a cigarette between her own lips. "Let’s go outside," she said.

"I miss it here," Marsha said, when they settled on the deck.

"Where’s Robin?" Kara asked, surprised that she felt no anger.

"Things didn’t work out," Marsha said.

"I’m sorry."

Marsha waved her apology aside. "It’s ironic, really. She said I worked too much, that I was never around."

Kara laughed. "How long ago?"

"Oh, it’s been several months now." Marsha pulled on her cigarette, letting the smoke out slowly. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Anyone in your life?"

Kara laughed again. "You know me. All work and no play."

Marsha leaned forward, her index finger reaching out to touch Kara’s hand. "Want to play now?" she asked wickedly.

Kara met her eyes, knowing that beneath her teasing tones, she was very serious.

"I’ve missed being with you," Marsha continued.

Kara smiled, thinking that if she had come a few months ago, she might have been tempted. But she let Marsha kiss her. Her mouth parted and she actually hoped that she could still feel something for her. But she didn’t. She pulled away, not looking at her and she brought her cigarette to her lips.

Marsha leaned back and watched her. "So, who is she?" she asked.

"Who?"

Marsha laughed. "I saw your paintings."

"And?"

"And you forget. I watched you paint for six years. I’ve never seen that much passion in one painting before."

Kara swallowed the last of her drink, but said nothing.

"Are you in love with her? The woman in your painting?"

"My, but you are perceptive," Kara said lightly.

Marsha took her hand again. "Look at you. You’re all tense." She squeezed her arm. "Why don’t you tell me about it?"

"You don’t want to hear it, I’m sure," Kara said.

Marsha shrugged. "What are friends for?"

Kara smiled at her, liking her more now than she had in years. Kara held up her empty glass. "I’ll need another for this story," she said.

"I’ll get it," Marsha said and came back with the bottle and their cigarettes. "Now, do tell."

"Just like that?"

"Yes. You’ve fallen in love. I want to know all about her," Marsha said.

Kara laughed. "She’s straight."

"Kara! Have you lost your mind?"

"Maybe I should rephrase that. She was straight when I met her."

"Why, you devil," Marsha teased. "Now I’m really interested."

"I’m in over my head, Marsha," Kara said, taking out her cigarettes and lighting one.

Marsha laughed. "This is so interesting. Kara Morgan in over her head!" Marsha grinned. "Tell me how it started."

"She owns a little grocery store in Chiwaukum, in the Wenatchee Mountains," Kara said. "I rented a cabin there for the summer."

"She owns a grocery store? How old is she?"

"Twenty-eight," Kara said.

"A child," Marsha said and grinned. "I love it. Go on," she said.

Kara shrugged. "We became friends. She told me about Phil, this guy in Seattle who wanted to marry her and I told her about women," Kara said.

"And?"

"And we became more than friends," Kara said quietly, remembering. "And then Phil shows up, wanting to take her back to Seattle and that’s a whole different story," Kara said. "Anyway, she sent him away."