Page 48 of The Cottage on Blueberry Bay

“But he obviously could through art.” Remy looked at Meredith. “Maybe that’s why he painted. He could communicate through his art.”

“Yes, exactly,” Ginny said.

Meredith looked deeper into the barn and noticed other paintings hanging—one of a porch with an old man rocking in a chair, another one with a set of women working in the blueberry fields, and another of what looked like a young Jacqueline walking along the sand.

Meredith walked up to the painting of the mother and daughter, her fingers reaching out for that little girl. She so badly wished she could have her mother by her side at that moment.

“Look, Mer!” Remy held up a portrait of a young family. “It’s us!”

Meredith covered her mouth with her hand. In the painting, Gordon stood behind Jacqueline with Remy and Meredith standing on either side. Her mother beamed in the painting.

Ginny clapped her hands together. “You found it!”

Meredith looked at Ginny, whose smile grew. “Let’s go through everything.”

CHAPTER19

“It was as if Jacob wanted you to find the painting,” Ginny said to Remy as they went through Jacob’s paintings with Meredith and her sister.

Remy smiled at this, and Quinn could see the resemblance between the sisters, if only slightly.

They had spent the whole morning showing Meredith and her sister Jacob’s paintings in the barn. The barn held most of his work. Over the years, Jacob had sold some for thousands of dollars. The ones of Jacqueline he had heard would go for more. But the ones he painted after the accident, those were the most valuable of all.

They waded slowly through Jacob’s inventory as his mother told stories about Jacob growing up and his family.

“How did the Queen Bees begin using Jacob’s land?” Remy asked.

Meredith pretended to be looking at a painting, but Quinn could tell she was listening to the conversation.

“Most of the men in town were lobstermen,” Ginny explained as they went through some of Jacob’s early work—paintings of calm oceans and perfect sunsets. “But after the storm and so many of the men died, the women had to feed their families and that’s when Jacob let us use the land.”

“So, you harvested the blueberries,” Remy said, totally captivated by the women who called themselves the Queen Bees. She held onto another painting from before the accident. They had started organizing them by year.

“That’s right,” Hazel said as Ginny nodded. “In return, we took care of Jacob, and Jacob let us use the fields to harvest the blueberries. Then came the honey. Then the tourists.”

“If it weren’t for Jacob and this land”—Hazel looked out at the fields—“I don’t know what we would’ve done back then.”

Meredith walked over to a standing easel with a half-finished painting, likely Jacob’s last painting, and picked up a brush from the side table.

“I think I’m going to call it for now,” Meredith said, looking down at her watch. “I’m getting hungry and should probably eat something.”

“We should find a place to grab some lunch and eat by the water,” Remy said.

Quinn felt his own stomach growl. “You should go down to the Blueberry Bay Café. They have a great menu. I’ll let Jane know you’re coming.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Meredith said, still not warming up to Quinn, no matter how much he laid on the charm.

He didn’t want to be that guy, but he usually didn’t have to work this hard around a woman. What was her story anyway?

“You’ll love the café,” Ginny said to the women.

Remy smiled at Ginny as Meredith picked through more of the paintings.

“How much did you say these could go for?” she asked, pulling out another larger landscape and studying it.

Quinn shrugged. “I’m not sure, but the selectmen would be willing to put them on display in town hall.”

“You could have an art auction,” Remy said. “Here. Set it all up in the barn.”

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