Love Letters From Ladybug Farm - Donna Ball [7]
Bridget returned to the kitchen with her laptop open, tapping the keyboard with one hand. “Eighty-four!” She was practically chortling as she settled down at the table with her computer. “Eighty-four comments since this morning! That’s more than I’ve gotten in the past month!”
Noah shrugged and turned another page. “Not much of an article, for all the time they spent out here.”
“Well, they took a lot of pictures,” Lindsay said, “and most of the exposition is in captions. That’s the way they do it in magazines like this.”
“‘The eight-foot-wide chandelier,’ ” Cici read by way of example, indicating a color photograph of the chandelier that hung over the grand staircase, “‘was imported from Belgium in the 1920s. It lowers on a chain and pulley system for cleaning.’ ”
“They should have used the soldier drawing,” Noah said.
Lindsay glanced up. “What?”
“Instead of the oil painting. They should have used the picture that won the prize.”
“It’s not all about you, Noah. Look!” Grinning, Lindsay flipped the magazine around, proudly pointing to one of the pictures. “They used my room!”
“ ‘Although the public areas of the house are restored to period, the sleeping quarters are decorated in individual styles. Artist Wright used a faux-plaster technique to create this mystical nature wall treatment in her bedroom.’ ”
Cici glanced up. “Say Bridget. You should have Lindsay be a guest on your blog and write about how she did the plaster stencils.”
Bridget, typing away, laughed out loud in delight. “Eighty-six! Eighty-six comments! And listen to this—ten of them want to know where they can buy the jam.”
“Do we have ten jars left?” Cici inquired innocently and Bridget made a face at her. Every shelf in the pantry was lined with jam.
“Announcing...” Bridget read out loud as she typed. “Next week’s special guest blogger, artist Lindsay Wright, on how to create the special painting technique featured in this month’s issue of Virginians At Home magazine.” She clicked Post and grinned at Lindsay. “Lori’s going to love that.”
“Synergistic marketing,” observed Cici absently, still reading.
“It would’ve been even more synergistic,” Noah added, placing slight, teasing emphasis on the word, “if you’d added a link to the magazine article.” He tossed his copy of the magazine on the table and stood. “Here’s the mail.” He pulled a couple of envelopes from his jeans pocket. “I stopped by the PO when I was in town. Save the driver a trip out here.”
“That was nice of you, Noah,” Cici said, reaching for the envelopes. “Bills,” she added as she glanced through them.
Noah said, “I’ve got to finish patching that fence before dark. I’ll be gone all day tomorrow. Jonesie’s got a big shipment coming in.”
Cici said, “Do you want to borrow a car? We don’t like you on that motorcycle at night.”
“I’ll be back before dark,” he assured her. “Besides, I’m low on gas money.”
Noah still owned and lovingly maintained the motorcycle he had purchased with the money he had earned his first summer at Ladybug Farm. None of the women was entirely comfortable with his using it to commute two hours roundtrip to school, however, and even Noah had come to see the advantages of having alternate transportation in case of rain. One of the three SUVs—four, when Lori was at home—was almost always available for his use.
Bridget looked in dismay at her post. “Rats,” she said. “He’s right about the link.”
“Maybe Lori can fix it,” Cici offered.
Lindsay frowned at Noah. “You’re putting in an awful lot of hours at the store. Your scholarship depends on maintaining your grade point average, and you can’t do that if you start working on the days you’re supposed to be studying.”
“It’s cool,” Noah assured her, although Lindsay thought she noticed a brief shifting of his gaze. “All I’ve got Friday is an art history essay and it’s done. Do you want to read it?”
“I certainly