Page 12 of Picture This

“Yeah,” she mumbled. “I think I’m mad at you.”

“You think?”

She exhaled, her shoulders slumping. “Everything is changing.”

“Changing for the good. Tomorrow, you’ll be married.”

“Yeah.” A smile toyed at her lips. “Finally. As long as everything goes as planned. Then Luca’s grandma can stop telling us we’re living in sin.”

I laughed, pulling her into a hug. “It’s going to be perfect. You’ll see.”

“I hope so.” She squeezed tight, then let me go. “Just to be sure, it’s a no on Jake.”

“It’s a hell no.”

“I get it.” She sighed. “He is kind of obnoxious. How many times do you have to tell him to stop calling you Del?”

“Thank you.” I went to the bed, picking up my camera from beside my backpack. “Want to go for a hike? I want to get some pictures while we’re here.”

“No, you go ahead.” She let me go, hooking a thumb over her shoulder. “I’m going to attempt to explain the meaning of disconnect to Luca.”

“Good luck.”

“I need more champagne.” She drained the rest of her glass, then swept out of the tent.

The resort had premade hiking packs for their guests, complete with sunscreen, insect repellent, bear spray, and water. I snagged mine from the corner, pulled the straps over my shoulders, and then, with my camera around my neck, peeked outside the tent’s flaps.

Jake’s bottle of bourbon was on a table beside the couch, but he was nowhere in sight, so I made a break for it, hurrying toward the trodden path that led away from the campsite.

An hour vanished in what felt like a heartbeat as I hiked to the crest of a hill and took in the view. The scents of pine and earth filled my nose. Pebbles crunched beneath my shoes.

In the distance, rocky peaks gave way to evergreen forests, then sweeping plains. The sky was dotted with billowing white clouds as far as the eye could see. And at the base of this mountain, the Haven River Ranch sat proudly in a sprawling meadow.

I took the lens cap off the camera and lifted it to my face. It was too bright for a great photo, and pictures never did this landscape justice, but I snapped a few anyway.

For years, my favorite pastime was wandering the streets of New York City with my camera, photographing anything that caught my eye. Yet as enchanting as the city could be, it couldn’t compete with the magic of Montana.

I tipped my face to the sky, breathing in the air. Then I kept going on the trail, in no rush, pausing whenever I found something to photograph. When my stomach started to growl, I turned back, retreating to the campsite, where Jake lounged on a couch, an arm draped over his eyes. His phone was beside him, blaring death metal.

“Hey,” I said, having to shout over the music.

He sat up straight, rubbing both hands over his face. “You’re back.”

“Yeah. Where are Emily and Luca?” Their tent was open but empty.

“They left.”

“Um, what?”

He lifted a shoulder. “You missed a big fight. Neither of them wanted to stay, so Matt drove them back.”

“Mark. His name is Mark.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Is he coming back to get us?”

“I didn’t ask. I don’t do drama, so when Emily and Luca started fighting, I crashed in my tent.” He lifted his bottle. “Wanna drink?”

“No, thanks.”

Jake stood, swaying slightly as he walked over with a grin, breaking the invisible barrier of my personal bubble.