Luke's Cut

by Sarah McCarty

  “It’s not that.”

  He opened the door for her. “Then what is it?”

  “I can’t remember if I closed the box. The chemicals I use to develop my pictures are volatile.”

  “You did.”

  “Still, it’s hotter here. They don’t do well in the heat. I think we’ll need to move the wagon to the shade.”

  “Not a problem.”

  Nothing ever was for him. She envied that.

  Even if Luke hadn’t been holding her hand, she wouldn’t have had any trouble finding her way back to Bella’s bedroom. Happy laughter floated down the hall like an audible road map.

  “I like your friends,” she told him as he ushered her into the foyer.

  That got her a considering glance. “Good. So do I.”

  She chewed her lip. “I hope I can capture the emotion that flows between you all when you’re together.”

  “You want to take a picture of an emotion?”

  “Oh yes. Definitely.”

  “Then let’s get to it.” Still holding her hand, he led her down the hall.

  The house was built of adobe. The thick walls acted as insulation, keeping the heat out. The arched, wood-framed doorways provided a nice architectural contrast to the smooth walls dotted with family portraits and delicate watercolors. Lace doilies covered heavy wooden tables sitting in front of ornately carved wood and leather chairs.

  The frilly curtains in the parlor wouldn’t have been her taste, but they worked somehow in the odd blend of overt masculinity combined with pervasive femininity. The house reflected the best of its owners’ abilities to negotiate to a happy compromise. It was warm and happy and welcoming. And a photographer’s dream. Everywhere she looked there was a contrast demanding to be captured, but it would never happen. The heavy walls that kept out the heat also kept out the light. She sighed as the parlor fell out of view.

  “What was that about?”

  “I would love to take pictures in here.”

  “You can later. It’s not as if the house is going anywhere.”

  “There’s not enough light.”

  He glanced around. “Damn.”

  “Exactly. Maybe someday, though. They’re making advances all the time.”

  “Is there going to be enough light in the bedroom?”

  Some of her confidence slipped at being put on the spot. Successful photography, she’d discovered, was half luck and half experimentation. “I hope so. I’ve created a new prep for the tins that I’m hoping will make up the difference when combined with the special lens I created, but…”

  “You created it?”

  Again she found herself wishing for a hole to open up. “Yes.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  “Don’t be. I don’t know if it will work.”

  He opened the door. “There’s only one way to find out.”

  Yes, there was. Taking a breath, she walked through the door.

  *

  AS SOON AS she stepped into the room, conversation ceased and all eyes locked on her, but it wasn’t the people she was concerned with. The light had shifted, but not to her disadvantage. With the sun lower in the sky, there was more intensity in the room. A glow. A surge of excitement shot through her. This was good. She held out her hands for her equipment and Luke handed it to her.

  “What do you want us to do?” Bella asked from the bed.

  Loosening the screws that secured the legs, she stood the tripod up. “Nothing right now. Go back to talking. It takes a while to get everything ready.”

  “But you will let us know when it is time?”

  There was no such thing as surprise photography. The whole process was laborious. But so rewarding.

  “Absolutely.” She wouldn’t have a choice. The lighting wasn’t going to be the only problem. As marginal as it was, the cooperation of her subjects was likely to be even more marginal. She wanted a natural picture, but any movement blurred the image. She hadn’t quite figured out how she was going to avoid that, but right now the most important step was to get her equipment set up so she could take advantage of whatever opportunity came her way.

  “What can I do?” Luke asked.

  Hug me. Kiss me. Make love to me. “You can go back to your seat.”

  A flicker of something chased across his face. Hurt? Placing her hand on his arm, she explained, “You’re part of the picture. Without you in it, it’s incomplete.”

  He eyed her hand for a second and then, with a nod, took his seat. She moved the tripod around the room, looking for the right angle. At first everybody watched her as if at any moment she was going to yell, “Ready!” She could only dream it would be that easy. One of these days, though, somebody was going to build a camera that snapped a picture as fast as a photographer could press a button and all she’d have to do to get a natural picture would be to sneak up on people. She was much better at sneaking than she was at socializing.

  Which was a shame, she finally admitted to herself. The way she’d lived her life until now had been a waste of her youth—hiding in the shadows, hoping not to be noticed. Her mother might have had good intentions, but it’d been a disservice. With a sigh, she set the camera on the tripod.

  “What is it?” Bella asked.

  “Just trying to get the right perspective.” Making a square of her hands, she framed her options. After that, everyone studied every move she made, clearly fascinated by the process. Being the center of attention in any other circumstance, she would have deteriorated to all thumbs, but once she was behind the camera, she never felt awkward. She never felt foolish. In this, she knew what she was doing. In this, she was confident because from behind the lens, she could make magic happen. Some people were orators, some were schemers. She captured moments.

  “Please, just continue your storytelling. It gives me something to enjoy while I do the tedious setup.”

  The conversation was awkward at first, but she concentrated on being invisible and eventually they seemed to forget she was there—all except Luke. It might’ve been wishful thinking, but he seemed to be as aware of her as she was of him. Gradually, the conversation became more animated. More natural. She slid the tintype into the camera.

  Luke cocked an eyebrow at her. She didn’t mind if his attention wasn’t centered on Bella. If just for this photograph, she wanted to be the center of his world.

  All right, she corrected. Maybe for two photographs. She desperately wanted an image of him sitting up on Chico, arms crossed over the saddle horn with that deceptive indolence that was so much a part of him. A king surveying his world. A wildly regal, solidly dependable force that begged to be reckoned with. That’s what she’d put as his caption, she decided—A Force to Be Reckoned With. With a last adjustment, she had her shot lined up.

  In a low voice not meant to intrude, she ordered, “I’m all set, so here is what I want you to do. Keep talking as if I’m not working over here. When I get the angle I want, I’m going to say ‘freeze.’ When I do, I want you to hold perfectly still, keeping whatever expression you have in that moment.”

  “Just freeze?” Tia asked.

  “Yes. Don’t worry about how it’s going to look. In truth, you can never tell how it’s going to look.”

  “But you can see how it will come out, eh, Josie?”

  “Yes, Bella, I can see and when it’s perfect, that’s when I’m going to tell you to freeze because I have the magic of the camera.”

  And a lot of optimism.

  “I like this thought of magic.”

  “Me, too.” Smiling at Bella, she went over it one more time. It was crucial they held absolutely still. “So just remember, when I say ‘freeze,’ you need to stay in your position. No talking. No turning. No scratching.” She couldn’t count how many times people developed itches they couldn’t resist during the exposure period and ruined her image.

  “Got it.”

  “Good.” Excitement surged through her. “So let’s get a picture made.”
<
br />   The silence in the room was deafening.

  Bella laughed. “A second ago we were laughing and giggling and carrying on, and now I can’t think of a single word to say.”

  She’d have told them that happened a lot, but this was the first time she’d ever tried capturing a natural-looking shot. Still photography was fine, but every time she looked at one of those stiff portraits, the artist in her whispered that there had to be a way to do it better. A way she could do it better.

  “I know it’s hard.” That’s why she dreamed of a camera that took pictures in an instant. Just the thought of being able to sneak in, capture the moment and then move on to the next with no one being the wiser gave her artistic chills. But until it became a reality, she had to deal with the process as it was.

  “Did they tell you about the tornado that almost swallowed Luke and me whole? One minute I was grouching along in that godforsaken wagon and the next, I was running for my life. It was monstrous!”

  “As you are standing here, I know you survived, but I wish to hear. It sounds as if it was a grand adventure. I do love adventures,” Bella said.

  Luke shook his head at Bella. “I thought Sam cured you of those grand-adventure moments.”

  With a wave of her hand, Bella dismissed the silliness. “My Sam is my grand adventure, yes.”

  “And keeping you out of trouble is his grand adventure,” Ed teased.

  Tia laughed. Bettina nodded her head. “This is true. Bella is most impulsive.”

  “Happy,” Bella corrected without missing a beat. “I am not impulsive, I am happy. And, Luke…” She reached over—no simple feat in her condition—and patted his hand. “My Sam’s love for me and mine for him… Our love is the grandest adventure of all. Someday, I hope you find this out for yourself.” She looked over at Josie, and in that split second she had the perfect shot.

  “Freeze.”

  As one they all turned to look at her. The perfect shot was lost.

  “Darn it.”

  “We weren’t supposed to move,” Ed pointed out unnecessarily.

  “That’s all right.” Josie sighed. “We can try again.”

  “We will not move this time,” Tia promised.

  “Thank you.”

  Bella was the only one not thrown off her stride by the failure. As if her conversation had not been interrupted, she hitched herself higher on the pillows. “Do not believe them, Josie, when they say these things. I do not look for danger.”

  “But danger always seems to find you.” Bettina sighed. Clearly her vivacious daughter was a source of both pride and consternation to the older woman.

  Bella inclined her head gracefully. “I admit there was a period in my life when it seemed that way, but now I am a respectable married woman about to have twins.” She folded the sheet in a precise layer over the top of the blanket. “My adventures will be different from here on out.”

  “I hope so,” Tia interjected. “It was a close call when Tejala kidnapped you.”

  “But my Sam saved me. That was all good.”

  “And then we almost lost him,” Tia added.

  Bella’s face clouded over. “That was a dark time, but it is behind us now. There is no more trouble.”

  Another perfect shot. Before she could say “Freeze” Luke had to add his own sardonic spice to the conversational mix. “Unless you count Indians and bandits.”

  Under the camera curtain, Josie gritted her teeth as another perfect shot died an ignoble death. She might be biting off more than she could chew with this endeavor. She didn’t have much more time to get the shot. The sun was moving out of position. If she had any sense, she’d just line them all up like cadavers at a funeral home and take the picture. But she didn’t have sense, she had ambition, so she crouched behind the camera and she waited.

  As one, they started arguing back and forth about whether trouble looked for Bella or whether she strolled up to the door and invited it in. As she watched, Josie marveled at how, even amid the fighting, there was still so much love between these people. It lurked behind how they phrased their arguments, in the way they touched an arm or shoulder to soften a point, in the way they smiled when a particularly witty point found its mark.

  The first time she’d thought she had the perfect shot, it wasn’t a success, the second not much more. Fifteen minutes later the food was gone, the coffee drunk and they’d stopped anticipating that moment, which meant they finally gave her what she wanted—the liveliness she could only hope to capture on film, the intensity of love in the tilt of a head, the softening of an expression. When they paused for a breath, laughter lingering in their eyes and exasperation tingeing their smiles, she had her moment.

  “Freeze.”

  And they did. She held her breath through the exposure, mentally counting off the minutes. When the last second passed she closed the shutter. She couldn’t wait to get the tintype back to her wagon. It had to have worked. It just had to. The third time had to be the charm.

  Fingers trembling, she came out from under the curtain. “You can relax now.”

  “Thank goodness. I was getting a charley horse.”

  She apologized to Ed, and to all of them for having to hold still for so long.

  “You did it?” Bella asked.

  “It’s impossible to know without developing, but I think I got what I was looking for.”

  “What exactly did you hope to find?” Bettina asked.

  She opened her mouth to respond, but it was Luke who answered for her. “Love.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  SHE HAD TO wait to develop the tintype. Complications came about when they had to figure out a safe place to put the wagon. The first suggestion had been the barn. To the outsider it was a perfectly logical solution. There was shade, water and some privacy. At least during the day. It would be hard to find a better space except for one thing. The chemicals she worked with were highly flammable. She’d been keeping that quiet. For a very good reason. People tended to react the way Luke was right now.

  “What the hell do you mean they could explode?”

  “In the right environment, if the proper precautions aren’t taken, ether can become…unstable.” So could collodion, but it only burned.

  He slapped his Stetson against his thigh, a habit she was beginning to understand meant he was furious. “You mean it can damn well blow up.”

  “Or catch fire.” She shrugged. “It’s not an all or nothing kind of thing. But fire would be more likely.”

  The minuscule hope that downplaying the risks would soothe Luke’s reaction died when he narrowed his eyes.

  “And you’ve been working with this for how long?”

  “For a couple years, but let’s not get sidetracked. We were figuring out where to park the wagon.” She had no idea where the courage to face down a grown man was coming from, but she liked it.

  “I’m not sidetracked. I’m just looking at the much bigger problem in front of me.”

  He said that while looking directly at her. “I’m not a problem and neither is my profession. There are just certain precautions that need to be taken.”

  He raked his hand through his hair, sending it spiking in different directions. “I thought Tucker was bad with his dynamite, but you’ve got him beat six ways to Sunday.”

  “You’re getting emotional.”

  “I passed emotional about five minutes ago when I found out you’ve been riding around in a bomb.”

  “It is not a bomb.”

  “That’s your opinion.”

  “And it’s the only one that matters at the moment since this is my wagon, my endeavor and my problem.”

  “If you park that wagon in the barn, it’ll be everybody’s problem.”

  Taking a deep breath she rubbed her fingertips against her temple. He was giving her a headache. “This whole discussion started because I told you I didn’t want to park the wagon in the barn.”

  “But you didn’t have any intention of telling me wh
y.”

  “Contrary to popular opinion, I am not stupid.”

  “In accordance with current opinion, current being mine, you are out of your ever-loving mind.”

  For heaven’s sake, he was impossible.

  “Is this a private argument, or can anybody join in?”

  Josie turned. A handsome blond-haired man with green eyes and a rakish hank of hair falling over his right brow stood beside the paddock, holding the reins of a beautiful pinto. At his other side stood a very mean-looking, very large dog, one that could easily pass for a wolf. Both man and beast had a wildness about them that made her uneasy.

  “That depends on how you feel about flammable substances.”

  As she watched, the wolf lifted its lip. She took a step closer to Luke.

  “Quiet, Kel.” With a cock of his brow, the blond man asked, “I take it this one belongs to you, Luke?”

  “I could wish.” He cut her another glare. “Because if she did, she’d be over my knee right now.”

  “I certainly would not!”

  The stranger laughed. “So now you’ve got two arguments going.”

  Luke growled in his throat. “Welcome home, Sam. Good to see you. Now shut the heck up.”

  Sam laughed. “Good to see you, too, Luke.”

  Josie stared. This deadly-looking man wearing more guns and knives than she’d seen in one place before was Sam? Bella’s Sam? The man she described as the sweetest thing in the world?

  “You’re nothing like I imagined.”

  He took his hat off and hung it on the saddle horn. “Bella’s been spinning tales again, I see. Mind if I ask what you were imagining?”

  “I was expecting somebody more—” she waved her hands “—more…Lancelot-like.”

  “Ouch.” With a snap of his fingers he directed Kel to sit. “Did she go on about how I’m an angel come to earth?”

  “That might have been mentioned.”

  “I was afraid of that. The woman’s hard on my pride with her descriptions, but since whatever I am makes me the man of her dreams, I just study on clearing up the confusion later.” He held out his hand. “Sam MacGregor.”

  She took it gingerly, keeping her eye on the dog. “Josie Kinder.”