Page 42 of Kissing Her Rescuer

“Once Carrie was born. Zach's mom gave me an old camera of hers. I still have it. Juliana bought me this one before she left, claiming I needed it for the paper because it was digital. The other one is 35mm, but I still love it.” Eliza took a sip of the coffee, perfect with just the right amount of cream and sugar.

“Have you thought about sending any of your pictures to a contest?”

“No. I don't know where to even start to figure out what's a good contest to enter.” The idea seemed interesting. Not that she had any reason to win a contest, but to have it validated that she was good enough at something would be nice. It didn't take a genius to figure out that journalism wasn't her calling.

“You give me some pictures.” She pointed at the camera. “I know you said you liked the 35mm, but I'm afraid they will need to be digital.”

“That's fine.”

“Good. Then give me some pictures. Landscapes. Some of Carrie if you don't mind. I'll find a few contests and enter them. We'll see if we can't get an award-winning photographer working for the Statem Dispatch.”

She wrapped her arms around Ms. Iris. “You're so sweet to think of me.”

“Oh, dear, it's nothing. Really. I love that you and your sister have accepted me so openly into this family.”

“I'm not sure Daddy would have cared one way or the other. He's so in love with you.” Eliza had expected that to hurt a little, that her dad could fall in love with another woman after their mom, but it gave her a sense of peace. She didn't plan on going anywhere soon, but at least he had someone else to take care of him.

“We finally picked out a new bedroom suite, and Cameron offered to repaint the bedroom before we moved. It's been so long since I lived with a man, I forgot how picky they could be.” Ms. Iris laughed, sounding so young it made Eliza smile. “After I refused to put a red plaid comforter on my bed, he threw his hands up and told me that I could pick it out, but it better not be full of damn flowers.”

“Sounds like Daddy.” She'd avoided the realization that she'd be living alone in their house. Alone with Carrie. It scared and excited her at the same time. Maybe she could eventually buy the house from her dad. Then she never had to move Carrie again.

She needed a lot more money before doing that, and the paper didn't pay enough. That's why she'd tried to start working part-time at the diner. The tips she earned were probably from pity since she didn't have much talent for that either.

Ms. Iris clasped her hands together. “You know, I might just beg one more favor of you.”

“If I can do it, I'll be happy to.” As long as it didn't involve any more decorations or flowers. She and Dewey had made lists and narrowed down the options, but they were still a long way from figuring out exactly how to put decorations together for a wedding.

“Will you be our wedding photographer?”

Eliza took a sip of coffee, stalling. For someone to rely on her like that made her stomach tumble around. It was for her dad. It really shouldn't cause her this much nervousness. “Sure.” At least she had more confidence in her abilities to take pictures than to make a centerpiece.

“Great! I can check that off the list. What about engagement pictures?”

Eliza choked a little on her coffee, coughing and trying not to laugh at the same time. “Is my dad willing to do engagement pictures?”

“Honey, Hugh Campbell will do whatever I ask him to do when it comes to this wedding.”

“Fine. Sure.” Her dad was going to kill her.

Dewey pulledup to the Campbell's house, annoyed that his sister's car parked where he usually did. He'd hoped to work out in the field on Nash's farm long enough to avoid the situation. He loved Eva. She was a great big sister.

But he could imagine her reaction to having a niece, as evidenced by her dropping everything and driving over from Savannah.

Carrie managed to have a small amount of tomboy in her. She loved to fish and walk through the woods just like he’d hoped she would. Even if she did insist on wearing pink camouflage. His Princess in Pink. There were so many fascinating sides to her. From glitter and ribbons to boots and mud.

Hugh had been right about raising a little girl. It was a unique experience that he hoped he wasn’t screwing up.

Eva came out the front door, her eyes narrowing at him. How did he already feel in trouble? He hadn't even turned off his truck's engine.

He stepped out, dragging out the to-go bag from the Daylight Diner. “I didn't bring you any food.”

She glared at him. “I don't care about that, but I do want to know how you plan on being a dad if you drive a piece of junk like that.”

“Damn, I just got here.”

She huffed. “And I’m not staying long.”

“And my truck’s not junk. It's vintage. The license plate confirms it.”

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