AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Morning to you, too,” Ry said.
Cody glanced around at the others. “I was up at six, so I already said good morning,” he explained.
Ry smiled. He supposed he and his little brother were the most alike, because they both tended to get lost in their work as if it were another world, to the exclusion of all—and everyone—else.
“But I did do some deeper searching, like you wanted, on Ms. Jacobs.” He made a wry face. “I only scanned what I found of her stuff, but you were right, she does mostly politicians and celebs.”
“I wonder why they hired her for this?” Mom asked, looking concerned. “Surely not to…tear into you?Texas Artworksdoesn’t do that kind of thing.”
“No idea.” He gave her a wry half-smile. “Maybe it was because of who nudged them for the story. I’ll ask her when they get here tomorrow.”
“Speaking of they, I did a run on the photographer too. Wow.”
He raised a brow at the brother who was the only one to get the blond hair of the woman who’d birthed them all. But Cody had Dad’s green eyes, while he’d gotten what Mom had said were her father’s eyes. All of them were some combination of family traits.
“Wow?” he asked.
“She’s good. Really, really good.”
He held up the tablet. Ry stared at the image there, a breathtaking shot of the wall of a storm approaching what looked like the Gulf Coast. The contrast of the huge, swirling darkness punctuated by the brilliant flare of at least three lightning strikes, and the already restless sea, with the clear, blue sky it hadn’t yet touched was beyond dramatic, it was awe-inspiring.
“And that’s just the first one I found,” Cody went on. “She’s got stuff up on some stock photo sites that is amazing, and then there’s a series she did for another magazine article.”
Cody swiped a finger across the screen and another image appeared, this one a portrait of a man holding a little girl on his lap, with a book in one hand he was clearly reading to the toddler. The child’s expression was rapt, entranced as she looked at what apparently were pictures in the book. But the man’s expression as he looked down at the child was an echo of the one he’d just seen on his mother’s face. The love fairly vibrated out from the image, and he wondered what it had taken to capture that moment.
“And this.” Cody made the motion again, and this time it was a portrait of a little boy, probably a decade older than the toddler, holding a book himself while propped up by the trunk of the large tree he was under. Beside him, head resting in his lap, was a big, golden dog, looking up at the boy with worshipful eyes, as the boy looked at the dog with a similar expression of purest love.
“And this,” Cody said again, and this time the image was an elderly couple sitting on a beach that looked somewhat like the one that storm had been headed for, leaning on each other. The man was looking at the woman beside him rather than the sea. And in his lined face was that same look—that love that was unshakable, eternal.
“My goodness,” Mom said. Ry was glad she’d spoken, because he could not. “Were those published?”
“Yeah,” Cody said, with a glance at Ry. “Along with an article about men in general that wasn’t too flattering.”
He blinked. “What?”
“You know, how we’re arrogant, cruel misogynists, yada yada.”
“Well, isn’t that just interesting,” Mom said. “For an article like that, she produces photographs that show exactly the opposite.”
“Tell me Ms. Jacobs didn’t write that one,” Ry said dryly.
“Nah, her name’s not on it.”
Keller had been watching silently, but now said, “Why do you suppose she did those photos? Because she agreed with the sentiment of the article?”
Ry shook his head. If there was one vibe he hadn’t picked up from Kaitlyn, it was man-hater. “I don’t think so.”
“Maybe,” Mom said softly, “she did them because she didn’t agree. And came up with photographs that are vivid proof it’s a lie. Because no one with a beating heart and a shred of honesty can deny what those pictures show. The kind of love they show.”
Ry thought about the woman he’d met. Thought about the way she’d reacted to the horses, especially Bonnie and little Two together. How she’d been so worried that she’d angered him by asking a simple question. That look in her eyes when he’d told her about his father’s response to him breaking that vase. Her comments about his family, and the look in her eyes when she’d said them. And just from the way she acted, the fear of simply speaking her mind, all the apologies, he had a pretty good idea of what her life had been like.
“I think,” he said slowly, “maybe she needed to remind herself that kind of love is possible.”
Chapter Nine
“Rylan Rafferty, huh?”
Kaitlyn looked at the man she’d encountered on her walk along the creek the inn was named for. It was a quiet morning, calm so far since Jillian wouldn’t bestir herself for another hour at least, and she’d quite enjoyed the clean-washed scent of everything after last night’s rain. The creek was running fast, and when she spotted the sign indicating an overlook she’d followed it immediately. And had encountered Frank Buckley, the proprietor and owner of the Hickory Creek Inn returning from a check along the creek to make sure everything was in order after the rain.
