Miguel kissed her. “You were so sure that you could bully me into giving up my life and taking on yours that you blackmailed a man into parting with his prized possession?”

Vera’s eyes lit up. “Yes, I did.”

“That’s sweet.” He kissed her again, then pulled the camera out. It was the size of half a concrete block, and about the same weight. “It’s going to take a lot of rolls of film for this baby.”

“Yes, it will,” Vera said.

“Got a roll or two? I need 400 for in here.”

“Listen to you! You’re learning so much.” When she leaned over the side of the bed, the sheet slipped down to expose most of the back of her.

She came up with a bag full of rolls of Kodak film, then smiled as Miguel loaded one into the big camera. Before she could protest, he took a photo of her, not quite nude, but not exactly clothed.

Laughing together, they spent the next hours talking about what might possibly be their future together.

When Coop woke and looked around, he smiled. He liked being in Caitlyn’s childhood room. Her father hadn’t touched the place since she’d left it. It wasn’t pink and frilly as might be expected, but was done in blue and dark brown. It was like her: sane and sensible. Not silly or frivolous. There were a few posters but mostly there were photos, especially of her and her father. Some of the uncles. There was one picture of a plump woman, a man and two teenage boys who didn’t look at all like Cait. Were they the half brothers she said she had nothing in common with?

He saw a high school yearbook and flipped through it. Cait wasn’t in it much. No sports teams, certainly no photos of her as a cheerleader. But then, she seemed to have worked for most of her childhood.

Toward the back was a snapshot of a truck with wooden sideboards and filled with hay. Cait was in it and surrounded by kids, all of them laughing. On the back was a sign for Heritage Harvests.

He got dressed and went into the kitchen. Miguel was already there, a mug of coffee in his hands. On the night Rilla had arrived, Miguel had come out of his house. He looked at Coop, then at Rilla, and had seemed to size up the situation in an instant. But then, from what Coop gathered from gossip around town, Miguel knew lots about women who were exes.

“I have a spare bedroom,” he’d said, then walked away.

Rilla had asked who he was. “He’s so beautiful.”

“He’s not rich enough for you.”

“Oh.” Her disappointment was obvious. “In that case, you don’t need to stay somewhere else. I’ll take the couch.”