Page 130 of Captivated

Zeeb: Nate?

Nate: I can’t tell you how much these mean to me. Thank you for them. Can we talk later?

Zeeb: Definitely.

August 9

Zeeb: Rode Bailey up the ridge this morning. He stopped. Just stood there.

Nate: What did you see?

Zeeb: Nothing. Everything. Wish you’d been there.

Nate: I’m starting to think maybe I should never have left.

Zeeb: Maybe you’re just not done here.

Nate: I don’t think I am.

Zeeb: So… what are you waiting for?

Chapter Thirty-Five

August 9, 2024

Nate stoodin front of his easel, studying the painting of the lake.

Leave it alone. You finished it, remember?

It was always the same. He had to resist the urge to fiddle, as Dad put it.

Canvases are contrary objects. They dare you to leave a mark on them when you want to start a painting, and they keep drawing you back to add just a little more, just a little more…

Dad’s soft knock at the door made him jump.

“Hey. I didn’t hear you come upstairs.” The painting had claimed all Nate’s attention.

“Can I come in?”

That was one of the things Nate loved about him—he never assumed, he always asked.

“Sure.”

Dad joined him and gazed at the painting. “This is so good. Is this a real place or from your imagination?”

“It’s not far from Salvation. I went there several times.” He fell silent.

Wewent there.

Dad said nothing for a minute, and the way he scrutinized the canvas sent a ripple of unease through Nate.

“What’s up?”

Dad hesitated, then sighed. “Can we talk?”

He blinked. “We talk all the time.”

“Yes, we do—usually. But this is the first time you’ve mentioned Salvation since you got back. It’s been two weeks.”

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