Secret Millionaire for the Surrogate

“Come on. Let’s get your camera out so you can take some pictures.”

She opened her bag and took out her camera, attached the lens she wanted and zipped it all back up again. “Ready,” she said, with a wide smile.

* * *

They descended a bit into an alpine meadow and Drew caught his breath. It was stunningly gorgeous. An endless blue sky soared above, punctuated with nearby peaks and swooped with green valleys. While the drop-off spot had been solid rock and sparse brush, the meadow was positively verdant. As they ventured along the trail, he spotted the nodding blue heads of harebells and the spiky blooms of red paintbrush flowers. There were glacier lilies and the more vibrant yellow of alpine buttercups.

Harper had stopped and was fiddling with her camera, setting up for pictures. It was breathtaking. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

He nodded, not saying anything. Instead he reached into his bag and took out his camera. The point-and-shoot eliminated the need for any complicated settings, but the waterproof and shockproof features meant it stood up to the most rugged of his adventures. There was no reason why he couldn’t get his own photos, even if they weren’t artistic like Harper’s.

They each wandered, looking for good vantage spots and unique shots, until Harper made her way over to him again. “Here,” she said, and she took her camera from around her neck. “I won’t make it complicated for you. It’s on auto and all you have to do is turn the zoom in or out, and shoot.”

“Harper. This is your camera. I mean, it’s like giving a teenager a Porsche and saying take it for a spin.”

She laughed. “Not quite. Besides, you’d tell a kid to put on his seat belt and I’m telling you to keep that strap around your neck.”

He chuckled. “Yes, boss.”

“Now go have some fun.”

“You’re sure?”

“When I first picked up a camera, I didn’t want a long lesson about what everything meant. I wanted to look through the lens and frame my shot. I wanted to play. The rest came later, when I fell in love with it and wanted to learn how to be better. Today’s your day for playing.” She touched his arm. Then she leaned up and placed a kiss on his cheek.

He obeyed, because he was amazed at the level of trust she’d put in him, and he was humbled by what she’d shared. His first few shots were of the wide expanse of the meadow, getting a feel for the heavy instrument in his hands.

But then he took pictures of her. Walking down the path, her pack on her back. The way she turned and her ponytail bobbed from the hole in the back of her ball cap. She didn’t go far before she found a large rock and sat upon it, taking off the pack and rolling her shoulders. He was patient—he remembered her saying that patience was important—and got what he felt was a perfect shot of her relaxing on the rock, one booted foot on the grey stone, her arms resting across her knee as she took a breather, looking off into the distance.

It had been two weeks and a handful of encounters, and yet...he felt a strange, uncomfortable stirring in his chest. He was falling for her, he realized. And not because she was so pretty or that they had the outdoors in common, though that certainly helped. It was who she was on the inside. Vulnerable and yet trusting. Easygoing and yet with a perfectionist side he saw each time he viewed one of her photos. She had a quick sense of humor and a ready smile, and a bigger sense of adventure than she gave herself credit for. If there was anything that he didn’t like, it was that she seemed really insecure about her personal relationships. He supposed being bounced around as an air force kid would do that, but he got the feeling there was something more, too. Something she hadn’t shared with him. He could hardly ask her to when they both knew his place in her life was temporary. It wasn’t like he’d shared his deepest secrets, either.

She looked over, her eyes shaded by the brim of the ball cap, but her smile bright and warm. When he was with her things seemed to fall into place. Which was weird, because he already had the life he wanted.

Didn’t he?

That he questioned it at all troubled him, so he turned away and took a few more photos, focusing on a crown-like peak off to his right.

When he finished, he tried a few close-ups of some flowers, particularly the red paintbrush and the harebells. There were bearberries, too, and birds—so many birds. A grey one that reminded him of the whisky jack but wasn’t quite the same. He bet Harper knew.

When he went back to the rock, she was leaned back on it, sunning herself. Even though he knew he shouldn’t, he perched on the edge, leaned over and touched his lips to hers.

“Mmm,” she hummed, and his blood raced. “Hello there.”

“This is a nice piece of equipment.”

“I assume you mean my camera,” she said, opening one eye as she squinted against the sun.

“Oh, that, too,” he replied, grinning.

She pushed up from the rock with a laugh. “You’re incorrigible.”

“So I’ve been told already today.”

She laughed again. “Are you hungry? We can eat the picnic now if you want.”

“I could eat.”

He sat down next to her, but first took off her camera and handed it over. She put the cap on the lens and set it carefully beside her, then reached for the pack and the goodies inside. The first thing to emerge was a bottle of water. He uncapped it, took a drink and then handed it over to her.