“And that’s why you haven’t found it. You’re a nonbeliever. You can’t organize perfection. You can’t plan it. It just happens. And when it does, it’s magic.” Confidence filled his voice.
“You’re talking nonsense,” she said, shutting her camera off and tucking it back inside her jacket.
She zipped up the coat right to her neck. If she’d been vulnerable before that was all gone now. Instead she was defensive. He supposed she had a right. He did seem to enjoy challenging her, and they barely knew each other.
“I’ll bet you that by the end of your time here you’ll have your perfect photo, and it won’t have a thing to do with planning or staging the scene.”
She laughed—a sharp sound in the stillness. “That’s an unfair bet. I’d win.”
“What if I win? What do I get?”
She stalked back to the snowmobile. “It won’t matter anyway. I’ll take your pictures, Blake. I’ll do promo shots for the ranch and the program. But I think I’d rather stay somewhere else. This is your private home. I don’t belong here. I’m going to make some calls and book into a hotel in Banff.”
Blake stared at her. He’d really struck a nerve if she couldn’t even stand being in the same house as him for a few days. And, while the whole arrangement had been odd from the beginning, he was somehow a little offended that she was so desperate to leave.
Not that she was actually going anywhere. This close to Christmas there wouldn’t be a room to spare in the resort town. She was stuck here even if she didn’t know it yet. And he wasn’t about to be the one to tell her. He doubted Ms. McKinnon liked to be told anything. She could figure it out on her own.
“Can we go back now? I’m getting cold.”
“Sure,” he answered.
They got back on the snowmobile and he started the engine, revved the throttle and turned them around, heading back to the warmth and comfort of the ranch house.
As they glided over the rolling hills Blake thought about all she’d said, and what she hadn’t. If he were a betting man he’d guess that she was a workaholic and she was lonely. Hope was in some serious need of holiday cheer. Problem was, he was the last person able to give it to her.
* * *
Hope hit the “end” button on her cell phone and scowled at the display. That was the fifth hotel she’d tried and there were no vacancies anywhere. She didn’t even consider calling the Banff Springs—she wasn’t hurting for money, but the hundreds of dollars a night price tag was definitely out of her budget for a ten-day stay.
She should have known. Major resort town, so close to the holidays... She was going to be stuck here at Bighorn.
The thought made her stomach turn nervously. Not just because she’d been borderline rude to Blake up at the ridge and now had to make nice. But because on one level she’d actually enjoyed talking to him. She’d let down her guard for a few minutes and had nearly told him about Julie, nearly mentioned her family. For a moment, as she’d stared at the awe-inspiring peaks and snowy valleys, she’d been tempted to confess that the weight on her shoulders, her search for perfection, came from years of trying to make everything right, to create a perfect family that had never existed and never would.
They’d all let her down. Even Julie. Hope had thought to create her own special family, based on love rather than genetics. But the result had been the same. At the end of the day she stood alone. It was time to accept that she just wasn’t good at family.
That she’d wanted to unload all of that on a virtual stranger hadn’t just surprised her—it had been scary. The last thing she wanted to do was open the Pandora’s Box that was her childhood. It was easier to keep it locked away and focus on the here and now. The present was all anyone had control over anyway.
She flopped back on the bed and sighed. She hadn’t been lonely, as such. And she wasn’t bitter, just guarded. Careful. She didn’t share secrets or confidences. She wasn’t even close to her sisters anymore. She and Grace always argued and it wasn’t much wonder that Faith had chosen a calmer path than trying to run interference between them.
It had been lonely, she supposed. At times.
Right now she had to even things out with Blake in order to make the best of the next several days—especially as she had no place to go.
Problem was there had been a moment today when he’d looked in her eyes and she’d had the most irrational impulse to tell him everything.
She’d have to watch that.
She put her phone on to charge and decided to wander downstairs. She could always check the pictures from today and see if any were salvageable. And she really needed to talk to Blake about more practical matters—like what sorts of shots he wanted for his promo materials and how they were going to make that happen. She needed to think of this as a job. It would make the time go faster—and easier.
She’d booted up her laptop and inserted her memory card when she heard the back door open and close, followed by a heavy stomping of boots.
Blake came in, his cheeks ruddy from the cold, his eyes glowing even brighter than before. His hair was disheveled from wearing the heavy hat, giving him a boyish, roguish appearance. If it weren’t for the jagged gash on the side of his face he’d be gorgeous, she realized. The men she knew paid stylists a fortune to achieve that tumbled, rugged look, and spent hours at the gym to gain a physique that Blake had mastered from simple physical labor on the ranch.
She’d been staring at him far too long. She dropped her gaze back to the computer screen and used the mouse to bring up the day’s photos. “You look cold,” she remarked blandly.
“The temperature’s dropped. Animals are in for the night, though. Snug as a bug.”
“That’s good,” she said, skimming the photos. A few weren’t half bad, she realized, though her instincts had been correct—the lighting wasn’t right. She might be able to play around with them, but none stood out as anything special or noteworthy.
“Anna’s gone?” he asked, rubbing his hands together and going to the sink. He ran water and washed his hands, reaching for a towel hanging on the inside of a cupboard door.
“I think I heard her leave just before it started getting dark. When I came downstairs I checked, and there’s what looks to be a lasagna in the oven for dinner.”
“Gosh, that sounds good.” He hung the towel back up. “I’ll throw together a salad and some garlic bread to go with it.”
“You’re quite the cook.”
“Lots of guys cook, you know.”
She did know, but she had a hard time picturing Blake in the kitchen. He was so...large and manly. She smiled to herself. Maybe she’d been working in fashion too long. “So why keep a housekeeper if you’re so capable?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Anna needs the work. I know how to run a washing machine and the vacuum and kitchen appliances. But it’s nice sometimes, especially after a long day, to not have to worry about it. I cook for myself on the weekends.
