Pride rippled through Lacy. People valued her work. Not just Sam and those at the lodge, but strangers, people who looked at her prints and saw art or beauty or memories. And that was a gift, she thought. Knowing that others appreciated the glimpses of nature that she froze in time.
Lacy smiled at Heather as the woman approached, a look of satisfaction on her face. “I loved that picture.”
“So did she,” Heather said with a wink. “Enough to pay three hundred for it.”
“Three hundred?” The amount was surprising, though Heather had always insisted that Lacy priced her shots too low. “Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously.” Heather laughed delightedly. “And, I sold your shot of the little boy skating on the ice rink for two.”
“Wow.” Exciting, and even better, if she did turn out to be pregnant, at least she knew she wouldn’t have to worry about making enough money to take care of her child.
“I told you people are willing to pay for beautiful things, Lacy. And,” Heather added meaningfully, “now that spring and summer tourists are almost here, I’m going to need more of your photographs for the gallery. My stock’s getting low and we don’t want to miss any sales, right?”
“Right. I’ll get you more by next week.”
“Great.” Heather gave her an absent pat on the arm and whispered, “I’ve got another live one I think. Talk to you later.” Then she swept in on an older man studying the photo of a lone skier, whipping down Snow Vista’s peak.
Lacy’s heart gave a little lurch as it always did when she saw that shot. It was Sam, of course, taken a few years ago just before the season opened and the two of them had had the slopes to themselves. In the photo, the snow was pristine but for the twin slashes in Sam’s wake. Trees were bent in the wind, snow drifting from heavy branches. She could almost hear his laughter, echoing in her memory. But, she thought as a stranger lifted the photo off its display board, that was then—this was now.
“I remember that day.”
Sam’s voice came from right behind her and Lacy was jolted out of her thoughts. She turned to look at him, but he was watching the photograph the older man carried.
“Jack was in Germany and it was just you and me on the slopes.”
“I remember.” She stared up at him and saw the dreaminess in his green eyes. Caught up in the past, she followed him down Memory Lane.
“Do you also remember how that day ended?” He ran one hand down the length of her arm, giving her a chill that was filled with the promise of heat.
“Of course I do.”
As if she could ever forget. They’d made love in the ski-lift cabin as snow fell and wiped away the tracks they’d left on the mountain. She remembered feeling as though they were the only two people in the world, caught up in the still silence of the falling snow and the wonder of Sam loving her.
It had all been so easy back then. She loved Sam. Sam loved her. And the future had spread out in front of them with a shining glory. Then two years later, Jack was dead, Sam was gone and Lacy was alone.
Now he was watching her with warmth in his eyes and a half smile on his lips, and Lacy felt her heart take a tumble she wasn’t prepared to accept. Love was so close she could almost touch it. Fear was there, too, though. So she pushed memories into the back of her mind.
“What are you doing at a craft fair?” she blurted out.
He shrugged. “Kristi told Tony where the two of you would be, so we decided to come down and meet up. Thought maybe we could join you for lunch.”
Just the thought of lunch made her stomach churn enough that even her popped corn wasn’t going to help. She swallowed hard and breathed deeply through her nose. Honestly, she was praying this was something simple. Like the plague.
“Hey.” He took her arm in a firm grip. “Are you okay? You just went as pale as the snow in your pictures.”
“I’m fine,” she said, willing herself to believe it. “Just an upset stomach, I think.”
He stared at her, his gaze delving into hers as if he could pry all her secrets loose. Lacy met his gaze, refusing to look away and give him even more reason to speculate. “You’re sure that’s the problem?”
He was thinking baby, just as she was. But since she didn’t have the answer to his question, she sidestepped it. “I’m sure. Just not very hungry is all.”
“Okay...” He didn’t look convinced, but at least he was willing to stop staring at her as if she were a bomb about to explode. Glancing back at the prints being displayed in the booth, he said, “Your photography’s changed as much as you have.”