Rock and A Hard Place (Cascade Brides Series) (8 page)

Off to the left, she could see into the kitchen. Once again the
color 'bland' reigned supreme from the wall to the countertops to
the Linoleum floors. Several boxes sat stacked on the floor next to
the cabinets. A package of paper plates and a small tower of
Styrofoam cups apparently made up his dishware. It wasn't too far
below the set of nondescript dishes she used in her own house. Ideas
of interior décor cascaded through her mind which confused her as
she hadn't had as much inspiration for her own place. Maybe because
she knew hers was just a rental. Shane was planning a purchase.

“Your house is great,” she said, and meant it.

Shane put his hands on his hips and surveyed the living room from
the hall. “It needs painting inside and out.” He looked her way.
“Any ideas on color?”

Faith made a face, striving to squelch several unbidden suggestions.
“I'm not an interior decorator. Just pick something you like.”

He raised his brows and laughed softly. “And here I thought you'd
immediately have an opinion.”

“It's
your
house, Shane.”

He put up his hands. “All right, all right. But if inspiration
strikes, let me know. I just can't think what would look best, and
trust me, with all the woodwork that will have to be masked first, I
only want to paint it once.”

She cleared her throat, remembering the real reason for her visit.
“You mentioned your portfolio?”

His smile deepened. “You're all business, Faith.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

He gave a small shrug, amusement sparking in his eyes. “You could
try socializing a little, schmoozing, rubbing elbows with the
locals.”

“
I'm
the local.”

He grinned.

Faith remembered her plan to be friendly, so she tried humor. “I
usually only socialize when it could pay off, business-wise.”

Shane shook his head and waved her to the dining room.

The space was separated from the living room by a smaller opening.
One end of the room had a large glassed built-in buffet. It was
stacked with boxes, as was the large oak table in the middle of the
room.

Shane opened the buffet door and pulled out a case. He unzipped it
and laid it on the table, then opened the portfolio to the first
page. Faith's light mood evaporated like mist in the morning. As he
began to explain each photograph in detail, her newfound confidence
slid right down to her shoes.

Image after beautiful image met her eyes. He was good. So much
better than she that it made her head ache with the ramifications.
As her heart pounded out an anxious rhythm, she scrutinized the
photos, trying to discern his secret. But she couldn't blame
Photoshop or a superior camera. Shane simply had an eye for it. And
a way of taking ordinary things out of the norm, of placing them in
unexpected, artistic contexts.

An insect on tree bark. The sun peeking past a blue spruce tree. A
bird in the snow. Each skewed and fresh. Each image an amazing work
of art.

“Of course I have a digital portfolio,” he said, “but
sometimes old school is better.”

Faith looked up at him, barely registering his proximity. “These
are incredible, Shane. How is it you don't work for National
Geographic?”

He smiled, his brown eyes warm. “Thank you, Faith. That means a
lot.”

She returned her attention to the images. “Have you shown this to
Merle?”

“Not yet. When he comes for a visit, I'll probably let him have a
peek.”

“I...I think he'd really be impressed.” She looked up at him.
“I'm even sure he'd want to contract projects out to you if not
hire you directly—”

“Whoa,” Shane said, putting up his hand. “Like I said, I
already have a job. And these images...they're the cream of the crop
from thousands of photographs I've taken over the last decade. If I
had to come up with something to earn my keep, I wouldn't be able to
take the kind of time it took to get these shots.” He surveyed his
work. “I like to study my subject first, consider the hidden
qualities. Then I like to see if I can draw those qualities out,
either by the use of lighting or setting. The result is often
unexpected.”

Faith stared up at him, wishing she could understand how to apply
that to her own work. What was the missing element that could take
her to the next level? How was it someone who didn't
need
to
make it work could put her and a lot of other people in the shade?

He returned her gaze for a moment. “Because of my technique, I
could never make it pay. I'm just too slow.”

“Still,” she said, her throat clogging with dread, “you
shouldn't hide these away. Enter them into competition or
something
.”

He stared down at a tight shot of a spider in a web, a broken down
barn in the blurred distance. “I don't know. Photography for me is
an indulgence. I do what I want the way I want, without scrutiny.
Everything else in life is judged, whether it's a job, behavior, or
even the way someone keeps their yard. If I were to enter these
pictures, people would find some reason to tear them apart and that
misses the point entirely.”

Faith frowned. “That doesn't make any sense. Are you saying you're
afraid of having them criticized? Trust me, you have
nothing
to worry about.”

“Not afraid,” he said turning fully towards her. “Maybe
protective is a better word. They're something special, just for for
me.”

“Huh,” she said, unconvinced.

His circumspect expression transformed into a rueful smile. “It
might difficult to understand by someone as competitive as
yourself.”

Faith swallowed. It was on the tip of her tongue to say she was
competitive because she had bills to pay, but she remained silent.
She needed to put some time and space between herself and what
seemed unattainable—and figure out how not to let it affect how
she treated Shane.

Her gaze skirted his as she looked past him toward the rest of the
house. “You were, uh, saying something about needing help choosing
paint colors?”

It was a lame reprieve, but she needed anything she could get at the
moment.

***

By the time Shane returned her to the church parking lot where she
could get her car, Faith had a lot to think about.

One. Shane was an amazing photographer who inexplicably, insanely,
wanted to remain obscure.

Two. She would cheerfully kill to achieve his level of expertise.

Three. Once Merle saw the photos, it was all she wrote, regardless
of Shane's assertions to the contrary. She couldn't in good
conscience (cheerful killing aside) remain an inferior employee when
a family member had mad skillz that kicked her amateur hiney.

Four. Shane—with his charming, self-effacing personality, rugged
good looks, and adorable nesting impulses—was a nigh perfect
specimen of a man. So she might as well forget the warm fuzzies she
had while pouring over paint samples and laughing at his silly
jokes. Perfect men had a tendency to want a perfect woman—not
stray refugey kinds of girls without a high school diploma. Not that
she was thinking of Shane for herself, of course, but
if
she
was...

Faith felt her shoulders slump as she drove home. Inside her house,
she looked around as if seeing it for the first time. Aside from her
cluttered work desk, she could've been staying in a vacation rental.
She hadn't hung any of her own pictures or decorations—everything
was impersonal and nondescript. But at the time she hadn't known how
long she'd be staying. Now, Shane was in town for a few weeks and he
was already planning to buy. He was picking paint colors.

Faith rubbed her forehead. But he could afford to indulge a sense of
permanence. She might lose her job tomorrow—especially if Merle
saw what Shane kept tucked away in that golden portfolio of his. If
she didn't feel so huffy, she just might want to cry.

One thing was clear. She needed to avoid Shane Zadopec. Hanging with
him would just make her a foil for his greatness. And he was pretty
great. Faith swallowed hard. Great and out of reach.

Not that she was reaching.

Her cell phone rang. Faith glanced at the unfamiliar number. It was
local. She answered. Shane's voice rippled across the wireless
waves.

“Hey, I forgot to ask if you wanted to head up to Bear Creek
tomorrow. It's in the—”

“I know where Bear Creek is,” she said, in danger of snapping
her cell phone in two.

“I could use the company and you could get some photos.”

Faith closed her eyes, then shook her head while her silly voice
said yes.

Chapter Seven

The following morning, Faith had managed to collect her scattered
emotions and could face the idea of a day alone with Shane with
equanimity. That composure was challenged when he walked into the
office, his dark eyes shining, his mouth curved in a smile.

“Merle is in his office,” she said by way of greeting. She
assumed he'd want to greet his uncle before leaving. He nodded and
headed to the back office.

Faith took a deep breath and double-checked that she had her camera,
a fresh battery pack, and the basic hiking supplies.
Okay, God,
we talked about this last night. I'm going to need Your help to get
through this day with Mr. Perfect. And yes, that part is Your fault.
She grimaced at her petty
irreverence and focused on an old Sunday school hymn.
This
is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it
.
Funny thing was, she felt like a school girl at the idea of palling
around with her boss's nephew.
Rejoice, rejoice...

Faith finally joined Shane in Merle's office. They were discussing
the day's weather. Clear and warmer than normal. Good for a day
hike, but unless there was ample rain, later in the season they
could face a drought. Faith frowned. A dry period. Kind of like her
life at the moment. Ugh.

“So you two are headed to Bear Creek, eh?” Merle asked,
startling her from her dark musings.

Shane nodded. “My supervisor wants me to check erosion on the
creek since the snow melt is making its way off the mountains
earlier than usual.”

Merle turned to Faith. “Any idea of what you'll be looking for
today?”

“Um, the usual nature shots,” she said, tucking a lock of hair
behind her ear. “And, I was thinking...maybe we should consider
making our photography available as stock for purchase. I've got a
lot of material on the hard drive that's not earning its keep.”

Merle's mustache twitched. “You've mentioned it before, but I'm
still not sure how I feel about that.”

“This will be an opportunity to increase the cash flow,” she
said firmly. “Besides, a lot of the pictures are only just
adequate and we'll probably never feature them in anything.”

Faith sensed Shane's surprised look. She straightened her shoulders,
keeping her gaze trained on Merle.

“I'll think about it,” the older man said, obviously
unconcerned.

“
And
Shane here has a treasure trove of incredible
photography you should see.”

“Oh?” Merle turned to his nephew. “I know you're interested in
photography, but I didn't know quite how far that went.”

“'Incredible' doesn't even begin to—”

“Faith is exaggerating,” Shane said, shooting her a frustrated
look. “Anyway, it's just a hobby.”

“How about letting me take a gander next time I visit?”

“Sure thing.”

Merle smiled broadly, encompassing them both. “Have a good trip.
But watch out for rattlesnakes. They're coming out of hibernation
early like all the other critters this year.”

“We got a bulletin at the station this morning about that. I guess
a hiker was bitten over the weekend.”

“Seems like we get a few of those every year.”

Faith listened to their chatting, now wondering why she'd accepted
Shane's invitation. She could just as easily get new shots on her
own.

“Are you ready then?” he asked her.

She sent him a tight smile and nodded. After a hearty farewell from
Merle, she grabbed her backpack and headed out to Shane's Jeep.

He was close behind. “Are you sure you're up to this?”

Faith turned quickly, the motion testing her ankle. She bit back a
gasp at the jolt of pain. “Excuse me?”

The sunlight picked out highlights in his hair and eyes. “You
don't have to go with me, you know. I mean, I hope you're not
accepting out of some misplaced obligation.”

A quick retort came to mind but she suppressed it. “I'm
appreciative of the opportunity you're providing me.”

Shane regarded her for several moments, as if he didn't quite buy
her cardboard answer. His mouth twisted in a semblance of a smile.
“So, how's the ankle?”

“Fine.”

“Not that you'd admit to it being not fine.”

She arched her brow then hoisted herself up into the front seat,
stowing her backpack in the seat behind.

The drive from town was silent. Not precisely tense, but it was
hardly a comfortable silence. She knew she'd annoyed Shane, but then
maybe that meant they were even. Besides, why would he hide his
talent? Was he just reticence because he was shy? Faith thought of
the good-natured smile that usually graced his mouth. Shyness didn't
factor into it. Maybe he knew his images were so much better than
hers and didn't want to embarrass her in front of Merle. He was just
being a gentleman about it. But that explanation didn't bring any
comfort either. She sagged against the seat.

“So,” Shane said suddenly, “been to Bear Creek?”

Faith sent him a sidelong look. “Um, yes, but not often
considering it borders restricted land.”

“How were you able to get onto it before then?”

She couldn't resist the impulse to tweak him. “You're not the only
ranger I know, Shane.”

He frowned then began to rattle off a list of possible names.