Picture Perfect (River's End Ranch Book 45)

by Cindy Caldwell

  But spring was the time of new birth, babies and growth, so it wouldn’t have surprised him if there were eggs in nests just waiting to be burst open with new life.

  He shook his head as they reached the knoll Opal had described and she took a position on the big, flat boulder. He sat beside her and whistled as he took in the panoramic view, the lake covering the valley below.

  “Wow, this is quite a spot.”

  Opal sighed and pulled her beanie over her ears against the cold.

  “It is, isn’t it? You haven’t been here?”

  “No, I haven’t. I’ve hiked quite a bit, but never came this way,” he said as he craned his neck back toward the ranch. “I should have. It’s a good spot for the wagons that would be coming down the road in one of the episodes.”

  “Well, I’ll share it with you if you promise not to tell anyone,” Opal said as she lifted her camera and looked toward the now infamous glade where something lived. He didn’t even want to think the name Bigfoot at this point.

  “My lips are sealed,” he said as he poured her a cup of coffee and handed her a croissant. She didn’t notice, and he nudged her elbow, startling her.

  “Oh, thank you. That looks delicious.”

  “Best bakery in Riston I could find. These are close to authentic...almost like my grandmother used to make.”

  Opal took a sip of her hot coffee and said, “Mm. This really is delicious.”

  Bernard laughed. “American coffee is much different than European coffee. This I learned to make on my own,” he said, proud that she liked it. “I thought we could use the sustenance while we searched for—”

  “Something,” Opal cut in and her eyes sparkled as she turned to him and laughed. “Don’t even say it.”

  “I haven’t even thought it today, I promise,” he said.

  She turned to him as she finished her croissant. “You spent a lot of time in France? With your family? You said your mother was French, right?”

  “Yes, she is.”

  He considered explaining the state of his family, but thought better of it. Opal had a big family, and probably wouldn’t understand his...and why he didn’t want one.

  He put the trash in his backpack for them to carry out, and reached for his camera as Opal reached for hers.

  For a moment, he searched the valley through his viewfinder, zooming in on any movement he saw...birds, a coyote running along the side of a hill. It was spectacular up here—the air clear, the sun warm and wildlife all around.

  “Look,” Opal whispered.

  He looked to where her lens was pointing—to the glade—and he did the same.

  He listened as the shutter of her camera ticked off frame after frame, and he did the same, adjusting his lens the best he could. As soon as the movements stopped, he lowered his camera and looked at what he had taken.

  “Nothing. You?” he asked.

  Opal looked crestfallen as she did the same.

  “Nope.”

  They spent another hour trying to get a shot, although neither one of them saw anything moving again, either through the cameras or the binoculars he’d brought.

  The sun now fully illuminated the valley, and they spent some time taking pictures of the hills and smaller valleys, and the people now starting to appear for winter sports.

  “Want to try again this evening?” Bernard asked as he took one last look through his camera at the glen.

  “Sure,” Opal said. “Oh, I can’t. It’s trivia night and I promised Olivia I’d go. Maybe tomorrow?”

  Bernard laughed. “I guess I promised Olivia, too. I didn’t realize today was Thursday. When I left the gallery she asked if I’d join you all. I wasn’t quick enough on my feet, I guess. I said yes.”

  Opal turned to look at him quizzically, a slight frown on her face. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

  His joke had clearly landed flat. How could she know that he always joked about wanting to be alone, avoiding family at all costs? It was pretty clear that she thought the world of her own family, and his heart tugged at the thought that he might have hurt her.

  “I’m sorry. I was joking. I’d be delighted to join you and your family for trivia.”

  As he packed up their gear, he hoped that in his haste not to hurt her, he hadn’t made a mistake. The last thing he needed was to be around any type of family like his own.

  Chapter 10

  Opal found herself taking a little extra time when she was getting ready for trivia. Normally, she’d go straight from work at the gallery, in whatever she was wearing.

  But tonight, she chose her best angora turtleneck sweater—a white one that Olivia always said made her hair and eyes stand out—and she carefully clasped the emerald necklace that her mother had given her shortly before she died. She ran her fingers over the stone, and thought of her mother.

  Her parents had been the happiest couple she’d ever known—before Olivia and Fred, then followed by her uncle and Gillian. They were like young teenagers in love, up until the very end.

  Her father had been crushed, and had done his best to shield his daughters from his pain, but they’d felt every wave of his despair nonetheless. When Olivia left for college, she and her father both felt that second loss deeply.

  She’d never forget the look in her father’s eyes when he handed her envelopes from colleges far away when it came her turn to apply. He radiated sadness, and she’d gathered all the brochures from the colleges and thrown them away, vowing that he wouldn’t be alone on her watch.

  In the years past, they’d developed a great rhythm, and she’d enjoyed working with him in the hardware store all those years, taking classes part time toward her goal.

  But her real goal had been photography, and when Olivia moved to Idaho and they’d followed and, after the wedding, decided to stay, she’d really found her stride.

  Although she still felt like she had a lot to learn, she was a little bit proud of her pictures, and hanging them in the gallery had been overwhelming. As she touched the emerald once again, she hoped that her mother could see her—see her family—happy.

  She ran a brush through her black hair and put it up in a ponytail before clasping the matching earrings on. She pulled on jeans and her cowboy boots and headed out into the kitchen of the small cabin.

  She pulled her phone out of her pocket and answered when she saw Bernard’s name.

  “Hi,” she said brightly, looking forward to seeing him again.

  “Hi,” he replied. “Hey, I’m running a little late and I need to hop in the shower. Do you mind stopping by here on your way to the main house? My cabin is closer and we could head over together.”

  “Sure,” she said. “Dad’s going straight from the gallery. No problem at all.”

  “Great. My roommate isn’t here. Let yourself in and I’ll hurry.”

  “Okay, see you in a little bit.”

  She was ready to go and anxious for pizza, so she grabbed her coat, pulled on her hat and gloves and headed toward the door. At the last minute, she turned around and grabbed her camera. Since they couldn’t use her computer to zoom in on the pictures tonight, at least they could check them on her camera between trivia rounds.

  When she got to Bernard’s place, she remembered he’d said to let herself in, so she did, poking her head in before she entered.

  “Bernard?”

  “I’ll be right out,” he called from behind his bedroom door, and she stomped her boots on the mat before she stepped in.

  She took in a deep breath as she walked into the living room—she’d never seen so many photographs in her entire life. Not in one place, anyway.

  There were pictures of the Old Town—each shop, the Kids’ Korral, the jail. He was really good. Even in the pictures, it looked like a movie set.

  She got lost in the pictures, and moved around the room slowly. When she reached the mantle, she noticed several framed pictures that looked very old. They were of couples—women with long b
raids wrapped around their heads in lovely dressed, and men in cowboy hats or top hats.

  She leaned forward and looked more closely. Each couple was the same, just in very different attire.

  “Those are my grandparents,” Bernard said from behind her. She hadn’t heard him come out of his room, and she set the picture frame that she was holding down hard, her hand flying to her chest.

  “You scared me,” she said as she laughed.

  “Sorry. Thought you heard me,” he said. He smiled and reached out for the picture she’d set down and moved it to its proper place next to the others.

  She leaned in again and looked more closely at the picture, then turned to look at Bernard as he ran his fingers through his wet hair. She looked back at the photograph again and could see the resemblance, mostly to his grandfather. He had the same chiseled jaw, wavy hair and she ventured to guess—if the picture hadn’t been in black and white, she could tell—that they had the same eyes.

  “You sure look a lot like your grandfather,” she said.

  “I’ve heard that before,” he said with a smile. “Guess it skipped a generation.”

  She looked around for more family pictures, but couldn’t find any.

  “No pictures of your parents?”

  She could see him stiffen, even with his back to her. He pulled on his socks and boots before he turned around and tucked his plaid shirt into his jeans.

  “No.”

  She waited for him to elaborate, and when he didn’t, she squirmed a little, shifting from foot to foot. Why didn’t he want to talk about his parents? She didn’t want to ask, so she thought of another angle.

  “And none of your sisters and brothers?”

  He reached for his camera and set it on the counter next to his coat and walked back into his bedroom.

  “I’m an only child,” he called from the other room, and she shook her head at another defeat.

  She might just have to let that one go for a while. All week long, he’d done the same when she’d asked too many personal questions...just shut her down.

  And it wasn’t like she hadn’t been open with him. He’d spent almost every evening at her house, with her father, even, watching either the computer or the Olympics, and he’d already met her sister. Heck, tonight he was even going to meet the rest of her family—and she knew next to nothing about his. He hadn’t said an awful lot about them before now, but it was as if the rest of his family didn’t even exist.

  She shrugged it off as he entered the room, ready to head to the main house for pizza and trivia. Who was she to try to dig more information from him. She’d only known him for almost a week, and while it had been fun searching for whatever was in the glen on the side of the mountain, and she’d learned a lot from him about photography, she clearly didn’t know him—and it was also clear that he didn’t want her to.

  “You ready?” he asked. He held out his arm for her, and she hesitated just for a second before she looped her arm in his. “I’m looking forward to trivia. Don’t even know how to do it, really.”

  Opal laughed. “It’s just like Trivial Pursuit, that game we played when we were kids.”

  She felt his arm stiffen.

  “What?”

  “I never played any games when I was a kid. Not Trivial Pursuit or anything else.”

  She looked up at him as he escorted her over to the restaurant. How could that be? Everybody played games with their families when they were growing up—didn’t they? She remembered many, many nights around the kitchen table, with popcorn or hot chocolate, playing all kinds of things from Monopoly to Uno. How sad that he hadn’t had the chance to do that. Maybe because he was an only child?

  She sighed as they reached the steps of the main house. She’d tried for days to find out more, but at least she was getting little hints now and again, and that was better than nothing. For now, that would have to do.

  Chapter 11

  Thursday nights for trivia were always packed at the main house at River’s End Ranch. Bernard had learned that as soon as he arrived, and he’d quickly learned that it was the perfect night to get a take-out burger or something—anything rather than brave the crowds. He really didn’t understand the game anyway, and as Brandon had gotten involved with Lin and the restaurant so early, he really didn’t have anyone to go with anyway.

  Tonight, for some reason, with Opal on his arm, he wanted to go. He usually stuck to himself, but this past week with her—even while he’d avoided her questions about his childhood—awakened something in him he hadn’t known before.

  Just hanging out with her father, watching the Olympics and having popcorn with Opal and ice cream after all felt—comfortable?

  It was something he’d never experienced before. Not ever. Even the summers he spent with his grandparents in France, as warm as they were and comforting, he hadn’t been around other people his own age. His grandparents still ran the cheese shop and worked every day, and he spent most of his days alone, roaming the small town and walking miles over the countryside, taking pictures with his grandfather’s old camera.

  So this was new and—he liked it. He liked Opal, and looked forward to their outings. She had an incredible eye for color and scenery, one of the best he’d ever seen, and he’d actually learned quite a bit from her about nature scenery, although he wasn’t quite ready to admit it.

  He’d really enjoyed getting to know Allen, and loved watching the Olympics with him. They always rooted for the US athletes in any event, but they had learned to appreciate excellence, in any athlete from any country.

  When they’d watched the beautiful ice skating performance, he was actually moved by the grace and skill that the athletes showed, and he even had reached for Opal’s hand—and when he’d realized he’d done it, he glanced at her and she seemed as surprised as he was. He’d pulled his hand back quickly, but when he went to bed that night, he wondered how that had happened without him knowing.

  And he realized it was because he felt comfortable—safe and comfortable, just for who he was. He speculated that that was what it felt like to be in a family, but he really didn’t know.

  As he and Opal walked into the restaurant at the main house and a bunch of people at a table that he presumed were her family waved them over, he felt a tug at his heart that he’d never felt before. Like a warm blanket.

  He gestured for Opal to go ahead of him and he followed her to the table.

  “Welcome to the clan,” Allen said as he shook hands with Bernard and gestured to the seat next to him. “Meet my brother, Aaron, his beautiful wife Gillian, Opal’s sister Olivia—who you already met—and her husband Fred. Glad you could join us.” He clapped Bernard on the shoulder before he sat back down and reached for his beer mug. “You got here just in time. Pizza and beer, no better combination around.”

  Bernard smiled down at Opal, who was looking around at the table. He nodded at everyone, smiles all around, and he took the seat between Allen and Opal.

  While the waitress brought his beer—Opal ordered the same—he got the quick run-down on how to play. It was a team sport, apparently, and the Wharton-Hamilton family was a team. He shook his head at the thought.

  There were several rounds, and they chose an answer as a group. Together. He shook his head at that, too.

  He looked around at the other tables in the room and spotted the older lady he’d seen in the cafe the week before—and she was staring at him again. He looked away, down at Opal, who smiled up at him and asked him for an answer about the geography of Australia, which he couldn’t answer.

  They lost the point, but hoisted their glasses at the effort. He laughed and looked around at the table and felt—at home.

  He felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned to see the very same pretty older lady he’d seen staring at him earlier.

  “Hello,” she said. She glanced from Bernard to Opal. “I’m Jaclyn, and the fairies aren’t speaking to me, but I just wanted you to know that I have heard from Gorgeous G
eorge that they are happy you’re here tonight. Together.” She smiled and nodded just before she returned to her table.

  Bernard stared after her for a moment, and raised his eyebrows in Opal’s direction. She looked as confused as he did, and he shook his uneasiness off as his phone rang.

  He reached into his pocket and frowned at the familiar ringtone. He felt Opal’s eyes on her—this would be the third or fourth time he’d declined a call when she was around—but he couldn’t help it. His mother was the last person he wanted to talk to when he was having such a good time, in good company. He hit the red button and declined the call, sliding the phone back into his pocket.

  “Who was that?” Opal asked.

  “Nobody,” he said, feeling guilty for not telling her who it was and why he didn’t want to answer, but now certainly wasn’t the right time.

  Intermission came, and Opal’s family started a rousing conversation about the interest in curling, the luge, the dangers of downhill alpine skiing—all things Olympics.

  Opal leaned closer to him, and he turned toward her. In the dim light of the restaurant, her eyes looked the exact same color of the emerald necklace and earrings she wore. She really was lovely.

  She reached behind her for her camera and said, “Have you looked at the pictures from this morning? I’ve been dying to but haven’t had a chance.”

  He reached around for his own. “No, I haven’t. I didn’t notice anything while we were there, but you never know.”

  They both turned on their cameras and flipped through pictures, alternately enlarging them and showing each other as the others at the table talked about the Olympics.

  As he was flipping through his own pictures, Opal gasped and stopped still. Her eyes grew wide and she looked slowly at Bernard as the conversation around the table stopped, all eyes on Opal.

  “What is it?” he asked as she held out her camera to him.

  He reached for it as he cocked his head. Her eyes were lit with excitement, her smile wide.

  He looked on the camera screen and held the camera up to the dim light at several different angles. His own eyebrows rose as he realized what she’d captured on film.