From the corner of his eye, Jase watched Marisa’s coral outfit turn right into the corridor at the top of the staircase. She stood beside Diana Riley, both gazing up at the stained-glass canopy. In the distance, Joe droned on about the history of the building.
“Of all the beautiful women I see you’re here with the most beautiful of them all.” Mr. Penhaven’s eyes watch Jase closely. “Good choice.”
Presumably he meant Avalon. “This truly is a group of talented and gorgeous women. No doubt about it.”
“Young guys like you hunger after them, don’t you? But all you need is one.” Mr. Penhaven’s hand rested on Avalon’s shoulder. “In fact, it seems rather unbecoming of you to take photos of so many women. Probably some of them were barely wearing anything at all when you did so.”
Jase’s temper began to rise. “Not true, sir. Sure, I’ve done swimwear sessions, but that’s definitely the limit for me. I’ve lost a few contracts because of it, but I stand firm to my convictions.”
“A talented photographer like you must do well in family portraits, or perhaps landscapes.”
Was the guy for real? “The money’s in modeling. I’ve had a break, but I’m thinking of getting back into it.” If only to get away from the Penhaven family. What of Marisa? Maybe he could convince her to come along. Maybe she missed her modeling days, too.
His heart sank. Everything she did proved her devotion to her mother, the CSA, the families she helped through the farm. Not a chance of her going anywhere.
But how could he convince Avalon and her father to leave him alone if he stayed?
He stared Mr. Penhaven in the eye as he climbed two steps, finally able to look down on the older man. “Excuse me, sir. My work is waiting for me. I’m on the clock.”
Whether Avalon followed him or not, he didn’t care. He took the steps two at a time and rejoined the group by the bronze statues below the rotunda. He angled himself toward Marisa, but she sidled closer to the center of the group.
Jase took a deep breath and slowly released it. He couldn’t convince Marisa of his intentions so long as the Penhavens stalked him. And that’s exactly what it felt like. He did the only thing he could think of, and breathed a prayer to his Heavenly Father, asking for wisdom and patience. Asking for another chance. A real chance with Marisa. He couldn’t let her go again.
He opened his eyes as he felt a whisper of air at his elbow.
Avalon smirked up at him.
CHAPTER 12
“Whoa, girl. You look more African than I do.”
Marisa grinned at Diana, who poked her head into the tiny bathroom. The two girls shared a room in the historic Tomah House on the grounds of the Grizzly Gulch Resort.
“Not so much on skin color.” Marisa adjusted the vibrantly colored beaded piece lying heavily on her shoulders.
“Or hair. You could do the thousands-of-braids look.”
Marisa laughed. “With what for time? I’d need ten hairdressers to get it done in time for the evening gown competition.”
Diana tilted her head. “That’s a Masai collar, right? I think those women shave their heads at the drop of a hat.” A gleam formed in her eyes. “That would be faster than braiding.”
“Nice try.” Marisa twirled in the small space. “What do you think?”
Her roommate gave her the once-over.
The bold red single-shoulder gown was also a nod to the Masai, but the lines were more flattering than the traditional dresses.
“You can sure pull it off. But I don’t get why. If you’ve got a drop of African blood in you, it’s well hidden.”
“Have you ever been to Africa?” Marisa edged out to give Diana space for preparation.
Diana leaned in close to the mirror, examining her complexion. “Can’t say that I have. You?”
“Twice. South Africa and Kenya.”
“Hence the Masai?”
Marisa nodded. “On a photo shoot a few years ago, we spent a couple of days in Nairobi relaxing after an intensive week on the beach at Mombasa.” Days immersed in a new relationship with Jase, with whom she’d been on several shoots over the previous six months. Days dreaming of what delights the future might hold. “I have friends who do mission work there, with the Masai.”
How he’d react to her choice of formal gown tonight would be very telling. When she’d planned her wardrobe for pageant week, it had seemed like they might pick up their relationship from those days. Forgive and forget and all that. But with Avalon… it was hard to know. Hard to trust him.
She didn’t really know what he wanted. Maybe he didn’t either, but there would be time to sort that all out after the pageant.
Win or lose.
But she was counting on winning. Counting on something new — something challenging — to occupy her for a year. She’d always thrived on change, and she’d grown vegetables in one plot of ground for three summers.
“Well, the red looks good on you, and that necklace thing makes quite a statement, especially with the belt.”
“Oh, I forgot the earrings.” Marisa reached into her jewelry box and pulled out a pair of hoops beaded to match. Angling the stand mirror on the desk, she put them into place. She swung her head from side to side, admiring her reflection as the three-inch circles whirled.
Diana appeared, now clothed in a glittering gold gown with turquoise accents.
Marisa whistled. “Wow, you are stunning!”
“You like?” Diana pirouetted.
“Amazing. Really. No one would ever guess you were a lawyer.”
Diana chuckled. “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not.”
Marisa laughed with her. “I’m not sure, either.”
“Are you a praying person?” Diana turned, halfway to the door.
“Yes.” Though she’d been too busy to spend the time lately that her soul craved. Marisa closed her eyes for an instant, gathering strength. “You?”
“Would you mind if we prayed together before going over to the event center?”
“I’d be delighted.”
As Diana’s words of praise and adoration for their Lord washed over Marisa, peace settled in. Had she not asked for God’s will before entering and given the results of the pageant over to Him? Had she not placed her relationship with Jase in those same capable hands? She had. Thousands of times.
Now it was a thousand and one.
~*~
It felt good to dig in and work long, intensive days again. Almost like shooting on location. Jase double-checked that he had several empty SD cards tucked into the specialty wallet in his pocket. Shots from the Capitol had already been downloaded and sorted. He’d even emailed several in for tomorrow’s paper, limiting himself to one of Marisa.
He was as ready for the evening gown competition as he was going to be. At least until his thoughts drifted to Marisa. Then he only hoped he’d remember to document the rest of the evening, too. Not just her.
The door opened and Kristen poked her head around it. “Ready?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
His sister grinned. “And don’t forget to keep up that tone of respect, little brother. We’ve got under an hour until the event begins, so you’ll have to shoot fast.”
Jase waved his hand at her. “Get rolling then. I’m a pro. It won’t be my fault if you’re late.”
She wrinkled up her nose at him and ducked out of sight. A moment later Avalon strolled in. Glam girl.
“Over here, Avalon.” He pointed her to the prepared set. “We’ve got about three minutes. Ready?”
For once she gave him the professional attention he needed to get his job done and, in no time, Diana Riley took Avalon’s place.
Every time the door opened, Jase’s pulse sped up. Then, when someone other than Marisa entered, he settled into his job. Each woman was beautiful. Each deserved his best work, his attention to detail. But sooner or later, it would be her.
Number twenty. Marisa swished into the room.
He
wasn’t prepared for her. Not by a long shot. His gaze riveted on the Masai collar resting on her bare shoulder. In a heartbeat, he was in Nairobi. The group of African women marched down the street. The raucous vendors called their wares above the ever-present music. The smells of spicy biriyani mingled with less pleasant odors. Colors swirled like a kaleidoscope, Masai red forming the ground for all the rest.
Jase blinked.
Only one woman stood before him. Yes, clothed in a single-shouldered red dress with a nod to the Masai styling. Yes, with the vibrant, multi-beaded collar, belt and — now that he looked closer — earrings.
But Marisa Hiller didn’t belong to Africa. She belonged to Helena. Did she — could she possibly — have a foot on each continent, as he sometimes felt he did?
Could she belong to him?
He gave his head a quick shake. Not in the sense of ownership. But as a partnership. A team.
“Jase?”
“You look amazing. Masai?” Not that there was a question. Those days were permanently etched, not only in the backs of his eyelids, but on the very core of his being.
“Yes.” She turned, the vibrant red gown swirling around her ankles. “Like it?” She met his gaze.
“Very much.” He could drown in those brown eyes. “Marisa, I—”
She strode the few steps to the center of his backdrop. “Here?”
Right. His camera. His job. The Miss Snowflake Pageant. He could see her with the tiara on her dark hair. Holding a gauze veil in place. Her dress shimmered into white.
The confused expression on her face pulled him back to reality yet again. He lifted the camera, cherishing the moment he could feast his eyes on her. Capture her exquisite beauty.
He clicked the camera one last time and lowered it. He filled his eyes with all the begging he could muster. “Marisa, we need to talk.”
From outside the room, a buzzer sounded.
Marisa’s focus slipped to the door before resting back on him.
Jase took a step closer, then another. He could feel the warmth radiating from her body. Smell the subtle perfume she wore. Not Masai. All Marisa.
This wasn’t the time, wasn’t the place, but he couldn’t help himself any more than he could stop the clock from ticking.
He reached for her shoulders. “I love you,” he whispered, losing himself in the bottomless brown eyes fixed on his and the sensation of her silken skin beneath his hands.
The studio door flung open, and the cacophony from the banquet hall beyond blurted into the little room.
“Ready?” Kristen’s voice topped the babble. “Oops. Hey, you two. No time for mushy stuff.”
If it were just about him, he’d shut that door firmly on his sister’s face. But it wasn’t about him. It was about Marisa and her chance to win the Miss Snowflake title. He brushed his lips across her forehead and tugged her closer for a quick hug. “Go get ’em.” He released her, his arms cold and empty.
Marisa’s eyes held wonder as she glanced at Kristen then back to him. “Thanks,” she murmured, and was gone.
Kristen winked and pulled the door shut behind Marisa, leaving Jase to collect his gear and his composure before heading to the banquet hall.
Had he been gentle enough? Had she welcomed him? He closed his eyes, the taste of her skin fresh on his lips.
Please, Lord.
~*~
The evening gown competition blurred past Marisa, no matter how she forced her attention to lock onto the evening’s emcee and to do her part.
Jase looked so much like his dad must have thirty years ago. The senior Mackie’s gray hair still carried a shot of red. William spoke with composure from the podium, a voice so like Jase’s that if Marisa had closed her eyes, she might’ve been pulled into it. His lithe build, his straightforward gaze, his ready laugh — all reminiscent of his son.
How could Jase turn out badly if he were so like his father? He couldn’t.
She found Jase’s mother at a nearby table, an elegant woman with a quick smile for the two small grandchildren wiggling on chairs between her and her son-in-law. Kristen slipped into the empty seat beside Todd. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, leaving his arm draped across the back of her chair when he refocused on Dr. Mackie.
Marisa’s forehead warmed where Jase’s lips had brushed her a half-hour before. Heard again his whispered words of love. She could have what Kristen had in Todd. A strong marriage. Adorable kids. Supportive in-laws.
The assembly clapped as William stepped away from the mic. For an instant Marisa’s disorientation grew. She’d already given her speech, hadn’t she? Hadn’t all of them done so?
A vague memory surfaced. Yes. Definitely tonight, the end of the first full day of competition. She’d done well. The camera flashes had kept up their blazing throughout. Not just Jase’s but others. Reporters, maybe. People had clapped.
Around her, the other contestants stood then joined friends and family members off-stage. The buzz of voices grew, punctuated by laughter and the clink of glasses. She should probably find Mom and Bob. They were here somewhere. Toward the back.
A touch on her arm brought Marisa’s thoughts into focus. She turned as Kristen slipped into the chair next to her and leaned close.
“I didn’t have a chance to tell you before the banquet, but I absolutely love your outfit tonight. Amazing nod to the Masai.”
“You recognized it?” Marisa hadn’t been surprised that Diana had… and even less that Jase had. But others?
“Oh, yes. Jase has shown us so many pictures of his trips to Kenya and Tanzania.”
Marisa’s brain reeled. “His what?”
Kristen touched the beaded collar with a gentle finger. “This is gorgeous. Jase brought a little one for Charlotte, but I didn’t know what to pair it with on her. Now I wish he’d given me one, too.”
“I’m sorry. Did you just say he’d been to Africa many times?”
Kristen’s green eyes looked deep into Marisa’s. “Wow, you guys need to talk.”
Jase’s words. Apparently correct. But she wouldn’t let her eyes go hunting for him right now. “What was he doing in Africa?” Even as she asked, Marisa knew the answer. Just because she’d left the business right away didn’t mean he had. “More fashion shoots, I imagine.”
“One or two, I think. But no. That’s not what he showed us pictures of. Those were from the time he went to help make the documentary.”
The room contained very little air. “The what?”
“The documentary about mission work with the Masai. Didn’t he tell you about that?”
CHAPTER 13
The gallery space was too small for twenty Christmas trees. Maybe it would be easier to move around once all the contestants and their helpers had completed their decorating tasks. The babble of dozens of women roiled past Marisa as she paused in the doorway, and the overpowering scent of as many kinds of perfume assaulted her senses.
Marisa peered over the boxes of garden-themed ornaments and garlands in her arms then stepped into the room as Kristen breezed over.
“Hi, Marisa! I was hoping you’d get here soon.” She pointed to the back corner of the space, where a lone fir tree stood in its stand, away from the bustle of activity.
“Over there, eh?” Bob elbowed past them both and set his boxes on the floor beside the tree. He dumped his jacket beside the boxes and hitched his pants. “What do you want me to do first?”
The room stilled. Without turning, Marisa knew all eyes in the room were focused their way. Okay, she wouldn’t have picked Bob out of a lineup as her decorating helper, but he was the only volunteer. Mom’s charity board meeting was this morning, and she was vice president. She couldn’t really skip.
And, well, Bob was eager to help. Who knew? He might even have a good idea or two.
“First, the lights.” Marisa set her load down beside Bob’s and glanced around the room.
The noise level picked up as the other contestants stopped staring and re
sumed work on their own trees. Nearly every conifer in the room already shimmered with white twinkle lights.
Hers would, too, but once they were up, nothing about her tree would look like anyone else’s. She wanted to win this segment of the pageant, and it was open to voting from the public. People might love her tree or hate it, but they’d notice it. They’d remember it. They’d talk about it.
With Bob’s help, she began winding light strands around her tree.
It was going to be the most unique tree in the gallery.
~*~
Jase paused in the doorway to the gallery space in Mr. Penhaven’s building on Last Chance Gulch. The place was alive with activity — rather a lot of activity for the size of the room.
“Jase, darling.” Avalon’s sweet words didn’t reach her eyes. Her gaze narrowed slightly as she spoke.
“Hi, Avalon.” Of course her tree was one of the two nestled closest to the window. She’d either arrived first, or Daddy had staked out her spot for her. Possibly both.
Avalon’s mother approached Jase and cradled his face between her palms before he could step back out of reach. She kissed the air on both sides. “Jase. So good to see you.”
Great. There went unbiased-photographer status. But he had to be polite, and he had to start somewhere. “Hi, Mrs. Penhaven. I’m here to take some in-progress photos. Want to tell me about Avalon’s tree?”
The woman launched into a description of every item hanging from the branches. Thankfully sparseness was a decorating decision they’d made, so he didn’t have to smile and nod for long after snapping a few shots.
He moved to the next tree, decorated with valentines for heart health, and listened while Diana Riley explained her choices.
Tabitha Jensen’s tree was liberally sprinkled with fake snow and adorned with snowflakes. It had little to do with the children’s charity she sponsored, but it was pretty.
More Than a Tiara: A Christian Romance (Christmas in Montana Romance Book 1) Page 9