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KIERA DEBATED SHARING her ideas. Even if Derek agreed to her proposal, it wouldn’t work without the approval of his cowboys, so why not lay everything out now, while the men were all here, and—she hoped—in a good mood with their bellies filled with Tanya’s cooking?
“Can you stick around for a few minutes?” she said. “I have something I’d like to discuss with all of you.”
Brows lifted, Bryce looked at his phone.
Someplace he had to be? “It shouldn’t take long,” she said, “but I’d like you all to be present. Tanya, too,” Kiera added.
When they agreed, she stood. “I’ll be right back. I need to get my laptop.” She darted for Derek’s office and came back with the device, navigating to her photo editing program. Tanya, she was pleased to note, was sitting at the table, although her expression was one of uncomfortable confusion. Kiera threw her a smile.
“As Derek mentioned, I’m going to be here working on the ranch’s books. I was supposed to be on vacation in Breckenridge, but after my accident with your heifer, that got cancelled.” She felt her face heating and reminded herself that one of her job skills was convincing people what she said was important, and they should agree with her, follow her suggestions. If she couldn’t do it now, she was in big trouble. She took a quick breath and went on.
“Which has nothing to do with what I’m proposing. I quit my job, and I’m looking to move into photography. To do that, I need a portfolio. One thing you have here in the mountains is natural beauty. Lots of it. I want to present a photo essay of life in the mountains, but there are lots of those out there already. What I’m hoping to create is a story about cattle ranching. I’d like your permission to take pictures of you going about your daily routines.”
She turned to Derek. “I promise I will not interfere with the running of the Triple-D, and any time you think I’m intruding, you can tell me to back off or cut the project entirely. You set the limits, and I agree to abide by any and all of your decisions. My bookkeeping job for you takes priority.”
Kiera moved to the foot of the table and positioned her laptop to show the pictures she’d taken. “I figure it’s only fair for you to see the kinds of pictures I’m talking about. I haven’t done any post-processing on these yet, so they’re not as good as they will be.”
Everyone leaned in, and she clicked through the images, hardly breathing as she watched the cowboys’ expressions. She started with the sunrise pictures she’d taken the day she’d hit the heifer. She went through more she’d taken of the guesthouse, the surrounding pastures, and skyscapes. She finished with the ones she’d shot as the cowboys returned from the field, drenched with rain, caring for horses, looking like—cowboys. Rugged, products of the land, and devoted to their work.
Derek, hoisting an apparently weightless saddle off his horse, its black coat glistening with the rain. Bryce, leaning forehead to forehead with his horse, as if sharing a special moment. Tim, head thrown back in laughter, his cowboy hat slapped against his thigh. Frank, bent over, checking his horse’s hoof.
She smiled as she displayed that one. Frank’s posture, his chaps framing the way his jeans fit his ... assets. She spared a glance in his direction. No reaction. He didn’t seem to see the picture the way she did. None of the other cowboys cracked as much as a smile.
Good. Maybe they wouldn’t be hypercritical of which pictures passed muster with them.
“Tanya, I haven’t taken any of you, but I’d be honored if you’d let me show you doing what you do so well.”
Tanya shrugged, but didn’t say no, which Kiera took as a good sign. “You all have veto power if you don’t want specific pictures presented. Only a fraction of the ones I take will make it anywhere—which assumes I can find a publication that wants them. But, they can’t want something they don’t have, and it’s my job to convince them they want my pictures and articles.”
“Dang, those are good,” Tim said. “You’ve got my vote. I’ll make sure my horse agrees, too. And all of my cattle. Should I call in a makeup artist?”
Frank snorted. “Yeah, for yourself. Your cattle are pretty enough without enhancements.” He nodded at Kiera. “You can count me in, too.”
“As long as things don’t get in the way of our work, I don’t have a problem with it,” Derek said. “Bryce?”
He shrugged. “Seems okay.”
Kiera tried to keep her sigh of relief quiet. “Thank you all so much. Before we go further, I have to tell you up front, there’s no money in it for you. This isn’t like a Hollywood movie, or even a commercial, where actors get paid. In this case, you’ll make the same as the cattle and the horses.”
She waited, hoping for smiles. Frank’s chuckle was enough to make her think she could make a go of this project.
Think? She had to make a go of it. No doubts. Positive thoughts.
“We ride at zero six hundred tomorrow,” Derek said.
“Roger that,” Tim said.
“Clothes should be done in the dryer.” Bryce pushed away from the table.
Tim and Bryce stood, headed for the kitchen. Tanya gathered plates, and this time Kiera insisted on helping. The cook had already taken care of everything other than putting the dessert dishes in the dishwasher, so Kiera rinsed and loaded.
“That’s my job, Miss Kiera. You gonna be taking pictures of me doin’ dishes?”
“Maybe. I’ll take pictures of everything, and then go through them to see which ones are the best for telling a story. What do you think is the most important part of your job? What would you like people to understand about what a ranch cook does?”
Tanya seemed puzzled by the question. “Ain’t nobody ever asked me before.”
“You don’t have to answer now—or ever—if you don’t want to. If I’m going to use your pictures, then it seems only fair to take the ones showing you doing what you like to do.”
Tanya nudged Kiera aside and added detergent to the dishwasher. “I like trying new recipes, using new ingredients, even though the cowboys would eat the same thing every day. I like it when they like my food. Not like Mr. Tim, always making jokes, but when they’re quiet, just eating, and there aren’t no leftovers.”
“I’m sure every cook on the planet would agree with you.” Kiera made a mental note to capture images depicting what Tanya suggested. Now that everyone knew what she was doing, Kiera feared they’d be self-conscious and stiff. She’d have to make sure she became an unnoticed fixture, like a fencepost or a pile of hay.
Tomorrow.
Meanwhile, it wouldn’t hurt to get a few shots of Tanya. She agreed and Kiera popped back into the dining room for her camera. Tanya enjoyed striking poses, laughing, hamming it up. She had excellent bone structure, and her mixed-race heritage made for an exotic beauty.
“Okay,” Kiera said. “Let’s have a look.”
Tanya stood close, and Kiera scrolled through the images while Tanya provided silly captions.
“That was fun,” Tanya stepped away. “I best be getting home. My days start early.”
They said their good-byes, and Kiera had positive thoughts about her next two weeks. Now, she needed to ask Derek what hours would be best for her to be in his office. While he was out working, she assumed, but she’d have to juggle bookkeeping with picture-taking. Shouldn’t be too hard. Even working half days on the books, she should have a system in place for him in less than a week.
Now, she wanted to get back to the guesthouse and get serious about her portfolio. As she’d said to the cowboys, the pictures she’d taken so far weren’t finished.
She went to the office to see if Derek needed anything more before she left. When she heard his raised voice coming from behind the door, she hesitated.
~~
FRANK JOINED DEREK in his office. The others had left, but Frank wanted to go over what he and Kiera had learned at the craft fair. Which wasn’t much. He’d pretty much eliminated Bart Braverman as a suspect and told Derek so.
Derek listened to his single voicemail message. Another threatening call. Derek pounded the desk.
“Same guy?” Frank asked. “Same number?”
Instead of answering, Derek snatched his cell phone and called Cecily, asked her if she could help. “Cecily, I know your job is important to you. The Triple-D is important to me—and you, too, I’d think. I don’t ask you for many favors. If you can’t help me, can you at least point me in the right direction?”
When Derek played the family favor card, Frank knew his boss had crossed the line into truly ticked off territory. When he slapped the phone onto the desk, he was more than ticked off. This was pure anger, something Derek rarely let show.
“Anything I can do?” Frank asked.
“No, I’ll deal with it.”
At a gentle tap on the door, Derek took a deep breath, blew out a massive exhale, and scrubbed his hand across his face. “Come in.”
Kiera eased the door open, peeked her head inside. “If this is a bad time, I can come back tomorrow. Which is what I wanted to ask you. When should I show up?”
“Come in,” Derek said again. “You might be able to help.”
She stepped into the room, glanced his way and at the chair opposite Derek’s desk, as if not sure whether she should sit, and if so, where. Frank scooted over a couple of inches, but Kiera either didn’t notice or didn’t want to sit next to him. She pushed her hair off her forehead, and Frank noticed how her injury stood out against her fair complexion. Would she have a scar? Would she care? Why did he?
“What can I help with?” she asked.
Derek reminded Kiera of the threats and how they’d run into a dead end trying to find Ed Parker—if it was Ed Parker—who’d made them.
“It’s not hard to spoof numbers,” Frank said. “So, if the phone number isn’t a legitimate lead, we need another way to find out who it is.”
“The police?” Kiera asked.
Derek frowned. “According to my sister, we don’t have enough to warrant an investigation, either on the beer can or the phone calls. No prints on the can.”
“DNA?” Kiera asked.
“According to Cecily, even if they found DNA, they’d need someone to match it to.” He shoved his hands through his hair. “The lab’s backed up with much higher-priority cases, so we can write that off. As far as the phone calls go, other than telling me I’ll regret not paying him, he hasn’t threatened with anything specific. Or even made any demands for payment. No amount, no place to send it.”
“You think I might find something in your financial records?” Kiera said. “An outstanding bill that might lead to Mr. Parker?”
“The thought has crossed my mind,” Derek said.
“Sure. Is tomorrow all right, or do you want me to start now?”
Derek pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Let’s say tomorrow. Fresh start. Tanya gets here by five-thirty, so you can come in through the kitchen any time after. She’ll have coffee on. If you want a light breakfast, that’s fine, too. We’re riding at six, so you’ll have full access to my office all morning.”
“Sounds good, although I doubt I’ll be that early. One more thing. I have a new phone with a new number.” She stepped to the desk, reached for the pen and small notepad resting atop it and wrote it down.
Why hadn’t she offered it to him? Swallowing his disappointment, Frank rose from the sofa. “I’d better be going. I’ll see if I can get any further with the search for Ed Parker.”
“Don’t spend too much time on it,” Derek said. “Without more sophisticated resources—”
“Like the cops have—” Frank interrupted.
“Or a PI, but I’m not hiring one. For all I know, this guy is someone who gets his kicks making crank phone calls and has no connection to me whatsoever.”
“There is that,” Frank said. “See you in the morning. Good night, Kiera. See you tomorrow, too.”
Her cheeks flushed pink. Was that a good sign? He gave her a quick nod, then went through the kitchen to the mudroom. Frank took his dry clothes out of the basket where Bryce had heaped them. He folded them and put them in the cabinet for the next time he’d need clean, dry clothes after a day of messier-than-usual ranch work.
He wandered around to the front of the ranch house, not seeing Kiera’s car. Taillights said she was on her way to the guesthouse. He pulled out his phone, was about to send a text, when he remembered Kiera hadn’t offered her number.
Would he be overstepping boundaries by driving to her place? It was early—still afternoon by some people’s standards.
What’s the worst she could do? Tell him she didn’t want his company? He put his truck in gear and headed down the drive, taking it slow, trying to come up with a reason he’d followed her. Why hadn’t he asked if she wanted to spend a little time with him while they were both at the house?
Because they’d been surrounded by the other hands, who would rag him mercilessly, especially if she’d said no.
She’d reached the guesthouse, and he nudged the accelerator. Even though it was early, she might be inside changing into something she’d rather not be seen in. Or be taking a shower.
You’re acting worse than you did in high school. Get your ass to the house, get out, and knock on the door.
He pulled his truck alongside her car. No lights in the house yet. He moved toward the porch and found her sitting on the steps. He strode forward. “Lock yourself out?”
She smiled, and a matching one grew across his face. “No. Waiting for you. I do have a rearview, you know.”
Of course she did.
“I’d have called first, but I didn’t have your new number.”
“I need to copy my old ones into the new phone,” she said, “or I’d have sent it to you.”
Frank climbed the porch steps and sat beside Kiera. “Why the new phone?”
Her sigh said there was a story behind it, more complicated than needing a new phone. If that had been the case, why the new number? Changing numbers made things more complicated all around.
“You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to,” he said.
After a pause long enough for him to wonder if he should leave, she heaved another sigh. “Why don’t you come inside?”