by Lily Thorn
Tess set her glass aside, trying not to let her emotions play across her face. She had exactly one ten-minute break written into her contract, but she didn’t want to argue over ten minutes when $500 was on the line.
Forcing a smile, she picked up her camera. “I’ll get some right away.”
“See that you do.” The mother of the bride prowled to the other side of the tent, probably to harass some other poor vendor.
At least she hadn’t snapped her fingers this time, or Tess would have been sorely tempted to break them.
Defiantly, Tess took one more sip of water before heading toward the bride and groom. Weaving her way through their admirers, she finally made it to Amy and Richard.
“I’m going to take some candid shots,” she told them. “Just have fun. Pretend I’m not even here.”
Later, she thought that they might have taken her too seriously. Not only did they ignore her, but she practically had to chase them around the tent as they ping-ponged from one side to another in rapid succession. She was glad Amy was wearing a white dress, or she might have lost her. Richard seemed to have disappeared entirely, spirited away by his groomsmen.
Grimly, Tess kept her lens focused on Amy. She hoped that would satisfy her mother. Tess would give anything for a sip of Amy’s champagne, or the ability to sit down for just one second.
Ducking out of the tent, Tess stood in the stifling air to try and catch her breath. She wasn’t sure she had gotten any good shots of the couple before Richard had vanished. But how was she supposed to take photos of him when he couldn’t even stand by his bride for ten minutes?
Tess changed the battery for one that was fully charged, steeling herself to go back into the fray. Wildlife was never this frustrating to photograph. Sure, sometimes more elusive creatures required lots of patience, but their mothers never showed up demanding perfect photos.
She sighed. Then again, wild animals never paid her $500 for a photo session. The bride and groom might not be cooperative, but Tess was still going to give them the best photos she possibly could.
Holding her camera in front of her like a shield, Tess stepped back into the tent.
The toasts began, and some of the speeches seemed interminable. Tess had never been to a wedding where all ten members of the wedding party gave a speech. Still, she photographed each one dutifully, though she decided not to capture the moment when the maid of honor fell down mid-speech after one too many drinks.
While two of the bridesmaids consoled the maid of honor, the bride and groom had their first dance. Tess thought that these pictures actually had a chance of turning out nicely. Richard had put a wildflower behind Amy’s ear, and the two of them looked deep into each other’s eyes as they swayed across the dance floor. For a moment, Tess felt like there might be a chance that their love would last.
Then the music changed, and the spell was broken as everyone piled onto the dance floor. Tess circled the celebrants, trying to keep her lens out of range of any wild dance moves. Somehow, Amy and Richard kept dancing for over an hour until Amy’s mother pulled them away to cut their cake.
The bride and groom managed to cut their cake and share another kiss before Tess’s five hours were up. Taking one last photo, she approached the bride and groom.
“Thank you so much for letting me share your special day with you,” she said. “You’re a lovely couple, and I hope your lives together are full of happiness. I have to head out now, but I’ll do my best to get your photos back to you within a few weeks.”
“You don’t have to go.” Amy leaned heavily on her. Drink and dancing had obviously taken their toll. “You’re practically family now. Stay, have some cake.” She hiccupped dramatically.
“Thanks,” Tess said, “I might.”
Amy let out a whoop, then dragged Richard back to the dance floor, cake in hand.
“Excuse me,” a man slurred, “are you the photographer?”
She turned around to see a man with a boutonniere holding a very large glass of beer. “Yes, that’s me.” Tess hoped this wouldn’t be another request. She really wanted to go home.
“I’m the”—he hiccupped—“father of th’ bride. Shoulda given you this earlier.” He thrust a white envelope at her. “Here you go.”
She could feel the wad of cash inside. “Thank you,” she said.
“You earned it.” Clicking an imaginary shutter, he stumbled away.
“Here.” Beside her, the mother of the bride presented a piece of cake to her. It was covered with plastic wrap. “After all that work, you deserve some cake.”
Tess accepted it, shocked. “Thank you very much.”
Amy’s mother nodded, sniffed, and turned away, all without meeting Tess’s eyes.
Tucking the cake in the crook of her elbow, Tess practically sprinted out of the tent. Cutting through the field, she made her way down the path to the parking lot.
“Please don’t be dead,” she said as she approached her car. It seemed to listen about half the time these days.
Once she’d put her camera and gear bag on the passenger seat and the cake on the floorboard, Tess slumped in her seat. The back of her shirt was soaked with sweat. Her arms were numb from holding up a camera for five hours, and she could barely bring herself to lift them to the steering wheel.
She was still insanely thirsty, having only had those two sips of water over the entire five hours. Licking her dry lips, Tess looked longingly back toward the tent. That was where the closest water was for miles. But she couldn’t go back in there. Not when she’d just escaped.
Though her legs felt like jelly, Tess swung them into place. After a heart-stopping moment of silence, her car actually started when she turned the key. Gliding out of the lot, Tess began the half-hour drive back to civilization. She’d made plans to meet up with Aubrey after her first shoot. Tess grinned. This time, she was bringing cake.
On the open road, Tess punched on the AC. She turned up the dial, ready to blast it. The car squealed, and nothing but hot air emerged. Tess waited several minutes, but the air never got any cooler. She scowled, rolling down her windows. Yet another thing she needed to fix.
“Are you a car or not?” she said as the hot air rippled through the cabin. “Next time I’ll save myself the gas money and just get a mountain bike.”
By the time she pulled into Aubrey’s parking lot, her shirt was soaked through. She wished she hadn’t decided to wear a black long-sleeved shirt, but she had wanted to look professional. Tess leaned her head back. If she was forced to shoot another field wedding, she was wearing a bikini.
Before she got out, Tess paused to look inside the envelope. She found a stack of hundred-dollar bills… six of them. Tess silently thanked the generous father of the bride. He couldn’t have any idea how much this meant to her.
Stumbling out of the car, Tess headed up the stairs. Her legs protested each and every one. Why did Aubrey have to live on the third floor?
The door opened the second Tess knocked.
“You’re back!” Aubrey cried.
“I survived. Can I come in? I’m going to get heatstroke if I don’t get some air conditioning.”
“Of course.” Aubrey stepped aside to let her in. “Don’t tell me you were outside all day. Do you want me to crank the AC?”
“I was, and yes, please.” Tess flopped onto the tattered blue couch.
“Why would anyone have a wedding outside today?” Aubrey fiddled with the thermostat. “It’s sweltering.”
“Not just outside. Outside in an open field. And then under a tent. They didn’t even have fans.”
Aubrey looked aghast. “And you still took photos? I would have just keeled over and died.”
“I think I almost did.”
Aubrey padded into the kitchen. “Let’s see. Would you rather have some ice water, or just a bucket of ice?”
“Ice water, please. I’d get it myself, but I can’t feel my legs.”
Aubrey rushed over with the water, a
nd Tess drank it in five gulps.
“You weren’t kidding,” Aubrey said. “How’d you even make it back here?”
“Sheer willpower.” Tess held up the piece of cake. “I knew you’d want to sample the competition.”
“And I do!” Aubrey grabbed a pair of forks and sank into the couch beside her. “Did you try it yet?”
Tess shook her head. “No time. I was too busy taking photos of the blushing bride.”
Aubrey dug in her fork, taking a heaping bite. Tess took a smaller piece. She wasn’t a huge fan of wedding cake.
“Well?”
Tess shrugged. “It tastes fine to me.”
Aubrey put her fork aside. “It’s been sitting around for at least a few days. That’s why it’s so dry. And the fondant is tasteless.”
“Yeah, but it was pretty.” Tess took another bite.
“Pretty? Tess, these raspberries are far too tart. They’re overpowering the flavor of the chocolate.”
Staring at Aubrey, Tess ate a third mouthful.
“Stop that!” Aubrey pulled the cake away. “I’m not going to let my friend eat substandard desserts.”
“I know. You spoil me.”
Holding the cake up to her eyes, Aubrey peered at it. “I wonder who made this. Do you think they’d hire me to make better cakes for them?”
“Probably, especially if you pitch it that way. I’m sure they’d really appreciate the compliment.”
“You know I wouldn’t say that to a baker’s face.” Aubrey slid the cake into the trash. “But I wouldn’t feed this to my guests.”
“What would you feed them, seeing as you threw away the only food I’ve had for five hours?”
With a devilish grin, Aubrey rose. “I know you’ve been working hard, so I made you a treat.” She pulled open the freezer and took out two bowls. “Lavender ice cream. Don’t start expecting it regularly, because baking’s much more fun, but I think it turned out okay.”
The bowl was wondrously frigid against her palms. Tess scooped out a heaping spoonful of pale purple ice cream. Aubrey’s assessment that her creation was “okay” might have been the grossest understatement Tess had ever heard. The cold concoction melted on her tongue, the flavor rich yet subtle. Tess could eat it all day.
“This is heavenly,” she said.
“I’m glad you like it. There’s more in the freezer.”
Tess rose immediately to get a second helping.
Aubrey laughed. “So how was the gig?”
“I have to admit, it wasn’t terrible. I’m just not sure how many more weddings I can take.”
“I know weddings aren’t your favorite.” Finishing her ice cream, Aubrey set her bowl aside. “You’re an incredible photographer, though. I know you’re going to make your clients very happy.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. Do you have another gig lined up yet?”
Tess shook her head. “I was lucky to get this one on such short notice, and that was thanks to Gary. I should probably put up a portfolio online, but that’s going to be so much work.” She rubbed her eyes. “I’m not even sure where to find new clients, honestly. Pin up flyers around town and hope someone calls me?”
“Actually, I may have a solution for you.” Aubrey handed Tess a folded newspaper. “Look at the wanted ads.”
Tess read the ad she’d circled. “Wanted: Dedicated wedding photographer. Pay includes free room and board.”
She lowered the paper to look at Aubrey. “Doesn’t this sound too good to be true to you? Unless room and board is all they’re paying…”
“It’s at one of the ski lodges, Tess. You know they have to be rolling in money.”
“It’s at a ski lodge?” She looked closer. “Apply at Bearview Lodge. Bring portfolio.” Her heart thrummed in her chest.
“I’m sure you could get them to pay you more if you negotiated,” Aubrey said. “You never know unless you ask.”
Tess stared at the tiny print. Her throat felt dry as she stood.
“I have to go.”
“What,” Aubrey said, “now? You didn’t even finish your ice cream. Are you okay?”
“I’m going to apply for that position.”
Aubrey frowned, like she was concerned Tess might be running a fever. “You don’t want to wait until Monday?”
By Monday, the position might be filled. For some reason, the thought made Tess incredibly uneasy. She wanted this job, no matter how little it paid.
“This seems like a great opportunity,” Tess said. “I don’t want to miss out.”
“All right. I’ll put your ice cream back in the freezer in case you want it any time soon. Good luck!”
Tess was already out the door. She took the stairs two at a time. Would she get to see Cade again? And why did that suddenly matter to her more than money?
Chapter Seven
CADE GRABBED TWO more cans of paint and headed back to the cabin that had been designated as the new honeymoon suite. He’d been working for three solid days to get everything ready. He had to admit that his brothers had helped a lot, but Cade trusted no one but himself with some of the details.
Like the last coat of paint, for instance. He had had to kick Adam and Sawyer out when he’d seen them painting the first coat without bothering to use painter’s tape. They might not care about getting paint on the ceiling, but Cade did. The honeymoon cabin had to be perfect.
“Need any help?” Ethan entered, brandishing a brush. “I promise to paint real careful if you promise not to yell.”
Cade made a face. “I didn’t yell at Adam and Sawyer. I just raised my voice a little.”
“That’s called yelling, Cade.” Ethan grabbed a paint can, popping off the lid. “What’s left to do?”
“Just these two walls.”
“That’s not too bad. One for each of us.”
“Yeah, but we’re not racing this time.”
Ethan dipped his brush, then put a bold stroke on the wall. “This is going to look really nice.” Bending, he read the paint can’s label. “‘Prairie Sky.’ Yep, I’m positive that all prairie skies are only this color at all times.”
“Well, they had to name it something more creative than ‘really, really light brown.’”
Ethan stopped painting mid-stroke. “Do you think we’ll be ready in time?”
“I hope so.”
Cade had only put ads in the paper a couple days ago. He had never expected someone to book a wedding date so early, especially not this Monday. To him, it seemed like a very strange choice of date, but if the couple was going to give Bearview money, he wouldn’t complain.
“We put up the gazebo.” Ethan ticked it off with one finger. “Cut the grass near the stream, bought a metric ton of folding chairs, and cleaned the space around the fire pit. The cabin’s got new shutters, new beds and bedding, new window screens, and new furniture. Oh, and a new coat of paint. Is there anything we forgot?”
“Probably,” Cade murmured. He wished they had more time. But a couple wanted it on Monday, and on Monday, Cade would deliver.
“Do you think anyone’s going to answer your ad for a photographer?” Ethan asked.
“I hope so. Otherwise I’ll have to take the photos, and no one wants that.” Cade swiped his brush over the walls. “I had hoped to get a lot of applications and interview people, but at this point I’m just going to go with whoever shows up first.”
“Sounds like a plan. What could go wrong?”
Methodically, Cade covered half of the wall. He hated all these distractions. None of this was important compared to the lift system they needed to install. He’d spent hours poring over catalogs with countless offerings, and the knowledge of all the large and tiny decisions he’d have to make before they could even break ground was giving him an ulcer.
Cade gritted his teeth. When Wolf Tracks had put in their system, they’d probably just hired someone to make all those choices and communicate with the construction crews. Meanwhile, Ca
de had to do everything himself. With the future of Bearview on the line, he didn’t even trust Ethan with decisions about the lift.
Cade was scraping the excess paint off his brush when a knock at the door broke his concentration.
“What,” he barked.
“Again with the yelling,” Adam said. “You should be happy to see me.”
Cade growled. “Name one reason why I should be happy to see you. And don’t tell me you’re here to help paint.”
“I have good news,” Adam said. “You’re really, really going to like me when I tell you.”
“What is it?” Cade set his brush on top of the can.
“You’re going to be so happy, you’ll never yell at me again.”
“Adam…”
“Just wait until I finally tell you.”
“ADAM.”
“Maybe I’d tell you if you stopped yelling at me,” Adam said, pretending to be hurt.
Even Ethan rolled his eyes.
“All right,” Adam said. “There’s someone here to see you.”
“Me?” Cade asked.
“She asked for you specifically. I don’t know why anyone would. She said something about the photographer job.”
A thrill rushed through him. “Did she tell you her name?”
“Jess? No, Tess something. I can’t remember her last name.”
Cade felt incredibly torn. Half of him wanted to shift right here so he could run to her as fast as possible. The other half looked at the unpainted strip of wall in despair.
“I can finish up here for you,” Ethan said.
“Or I could help,” Adam said. “I know you appreciate my painting talents.”
Ethan shook his head. “I won’t let him touch a brush.”
“Thanks, Ethan. I owe you one.” Cade bolted out the door. He hoped his brothers wouldn’t think too much of his odd behavior and come sniffing around the new camera girl.
Within him, his bear bristled. They can’t have her. She’s ours.
He turned a corner and found her standing near the entrance, bathed in golden light. The sight stopped Cade in his tracks. She looked uncertain, one hand on her camera and the other on her hip. Her dark black clothes tugged at her curves, accentuating them. Dark black wasn’t the best choice for summer, though. Cade would have to help her find a better place for her clothes. Like on his floor.