Page 47 of Always a Bridesmaid
Noticing one vital item was missing, he opened the passenger door of his truck and gestured to the fancy contraption in the middle of the bench seat. “Don’t forget your camera.”
Ever the smartass, Violet saluted him. Too bad for her, he wasn’t budging. He’d heard the anguish in her voice as she’d discussed losing her passion.
Ordinarily, he kept his nose out of people’s business. He struggled to watch talent go to waste, though, and it’d happened too often at his house growing up. If Violet needed a push, he could provide one.
Inspiration, on the other hand, might be harder to come by.
…
After an hour of training, Nitro and Tank had found the scent pad countless times, from greater and greater distances.
And her puppy had done a lot of marking his territory.
Violet could tell by the way Ford raked his hand through his hair that he was growing frustrated with Trouble’s inability to focus. Which triggered her anxiety and had her heart beating an irregular rhythm.Pay attention. Try to help…
“I’m going to the truck to water the dogs. Feel free to take a look around.” Ford tapped the Canon 5D Mark IV that hung from her neck. “Maybe use this thing.”
Once he and the dogs had disappeared through the trees, Violet forced herself to wrap her fingers around the camera. Being afraid of an inanimate object made no sense.
She wasn’t exactly afraid ofit. She was afraid she’d discover she had lost her touch. Worried she’d take photos, only to look at them later and wonder what’d happened to the woman whose work had been featured in a bridal magazine.
The cover came off the lens with a lightpop.
Slowly, Violet lifted the camera and peered through the viewfinder.
She swiveled toward the water and messed with the settings until everything sharpened. Sunlight reflected off the rippled surface. Cypress trees stretched toward the sky, their fat, multicolored trunks marking how much the water level rose and dipped.
There was something hauntingly beautiful about the swampy setting.
A crane swooped low, skimming its downy wingtips across the surface of the lake.
Violet depressed the button and waited for the image to show on her viewfinder. Lovely but ordinary. Still, a start.
Around the bend of the lake sat a tree-covered rock formation. Ford had referred to it as chimney rock and said they used to jump off the top and into the lake all the time.
Painted images covered the stacked rocks, dripping colors with faces and peace symbols. Initials with plus signs between them—how had those couples turned out? Did they get their happily ever after?
Click, click, click.
At least the sound of the camera comforted her, making it easier to sink into her first photo session in ages.
Footsteps alerted her to Ford’s return, but he didn’t approach her. He secured the puppies’ ropes around a fat trunk, and then he and Pyro sprinted down the wooden dock. Violet wove around rocks and trees to get a better view.
A bit of zooming, and she had Pyro and Ford in her sights. Ford squatted, placed his hands on either side of his dog’s face, and rubbed with enough gusto that Pyro’s ears flopped from one side to the other.
I need to get a bit higher…
A fallen tree provided the perfect perch, and, with one hand bracing her climb, Violet managed to boost herself. She zoomed in and changed angles, capturing moments between a man who kept showing up when she needed help and his faithful companion.
The bond between them was palpable, as was the emotion she’d been missing in the scenic shots. Joy pinged through her as Ford tossed a stick and Pyro raced after it.Click, click, click.
The puppies whimpered, ready for their turn to play.
Violet continued to move closer.
“…show me you’ll listen, I’ll let you off the leashes, too.”
Ford sat on the grass and gave each of the puppies a rubdown, and Violet snapped more pictures. So much adorableness going on—enough she wasn’t sure she could capture it all.
