Secret Millionaire For The Surrogate

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He snorted, then grinned. “Maybe you like making it difficult for me.”

When she smiled back, his heart lifted. “I consider that a side benefit.”

But she handed over the pack, with instructions to be careful because there was equipment in there. As well as her water and cracker stash.

The world was still and quiet as they made their way out of the parking lot and down a trail leading to the Stewart Canyon trailhead. There was nothing Drew liked better than crisp, fresh air and the smell of everything green and alive. It was far preferable to days in his office or shut up in a boardroom. Birds chirped in the trees; jays, chickadees and awkward-looking magpies with their long tails and raucous call. Occasionally Harper stopped, looked above and around her and lifted her camera to take a quick few shots. Warm-ups, she called them, but he doubted she did anything like a warm-up. Those photos were considered and shot with purpose.

They met another couple coming out of the trail, and they greeted them with a quiet hello. “There’ve been some bear sightings lately,” the man advised. “Trail’s not closed, but be on the lookout.”

“Thanks,” Drew replied, and frowned. He hadn’t thought of it before, but Harper went into the mountains alone all the time. There were bears and mountain lions to consider.

“I can see the look on your face,” she said, laughing a little. “If you’re afraid, there’s a can of bear spray in the bag.”

He stopped, and there was a look of surprise on her face as he took the pack off his back, opened it and rooted around for the spray. He hooked it onto his belt loop and zipped up the pack again. “Not afraid. Smart. The last thing I want to do is turn a corner and find an ornery mama bear staring me in the face.”

She lifted her camera. “It’s one reason for the lens,” she explained. “I don’t have to get too close.”

“Lead on, then,” he said, but kept the bear spray on his hip. Chances were they wouldn’t see anything, but he’d rather be prepared.

It didn’t seem to take any time at all before they were at the bridge, a short expanse with the Cascade River beneath. The river ran downstream into Lake Minnewanka, and Harper stopped at the other end of the bridge and started setting up shots. He stayed back and watched, enjoying the concentration on her face, the way she adjusted a setting and tried again, or moved her position slightly. Her colour had returned, giving her cheeks more of a rosy glow, and he thought again how stunning she was. All lean legs and strong shoulders, creamy freckled skin and beautiful eyes that didn’t require any makeup to make them brighter.

She stood, stretched her back a bit and sent him a grin so big he was dazzled by it.

She lifted the camera. “Oh, no,” he began, lifting a hand, but she balanced the camera on her hand and put a finger to her lips, then looked over his shoulder. He half turned and nearly jumped when he realized a bighorn sheep was on the rock above and behind him, horns curled, face impassive.

When he turned back to face Harper, she was already snapping wildly, her face split with a smile that was pure fun.

He turned around and looked up at the sheep. “Good morning,” he said. “Sorry to disturb.” Then he backed away and crossed the bridge to join Harper. Maybe she wanted some pics of the sheep without him in them.

He waited quietly, and then the sheep moved on and Harper lowered the camera. “Sorry,” she finally said. “I couldn’t resist. All of a sudden there he was, standing right behind you, and you had no idea.”

“He might have hurt me with those horns,” Drew said, teasing.

“More like he wanted the crackers in the bag. Tourists aren’t supposed to feed them, but they do. There are so many sheep that they wander through the parking lot all day long. People love it.”

“Well, I’m glad I could entertain.”

“Speaking of crackers, I could use a couple of mine.”

He looked at her and his face blanked with alarm. Her pink colour was now pale and slightly greenish. He rushed to take off the pack but it was too late. She swung the camera around to her back, rushed to the bushes beside the path, and gagged.

Drew wasn’t grossed out, but he did feel sympathy. He took out the crackers and a bottle of water and, when she was done, uncapped the bottle and offered her a drink. “Here. You can swish that around and then drink some.”

She took the bottle and swished and spit, then held out her hand for a cracker. “Could I have four, please? Now that I’ve got the dry heave out of the way, I can eat something.”

“And so begins my education into pregnancy,” he said calmly, handing over several saltines. She bit into one and attempted to smile, but she looked embarrassed. “Don’t worry about it,” he assured her. “I’ve seen much worse from dehydration or heat stroke. Do you need to go back or do you want to keep on?”

She ate all four crackers and straightened. “We can go on. It’s not that far anyway, and I want to get some pictures of the lake and beach. If we wait, the lake will fill up. It’s the only lake in the park that permits motorboats.”

“I’m game if you are.”

They carried on through the woods, heading toward the lake. Drew admired her stubbornness, particularly since she’d barely eaten anything this morning. He’d at least had a shake and a protein bar before he left the hotel, and he was still hungry. What surprised him even more was when they reached a spot she liked, with a view of the shore, and she stopped and sat down on a large rock.

“Now we wait,” she said. “Find a seat.”

“Wait? For what?”

She grinned. “For whatever comes our way. Wildlife, a cloud that gives some fun shadows, eagles over the lake... I wait for opportunity, and when it comes, I try not to waste it.”

He perched on a nearby stump and watched her adjust her camera settings. Her last words...he understood those. At least the part about not wasting opportunities. He didn’t wait for them, though. He went after them. He wouldn’t be here otherwise.

But he could be patient. For a while. So they sat in the quiet and waited.

Harper got up a few times and shifted position, snapping pics of the lake. A whisky jack squawked nearby, and she found it and adjusted her lens, stealthily moving and getting the bird from a few different angles before it flew away. She leaned against a tree for a moment, and he saw her brow wrinkle before it cleared. She lifted her camera and focused on the shore of the lake.

He couldn’t see what she was taking pictures of, so he got up and moved as quietly as possible to within a few feet of her. What he saw made him catch his breath.

A solitary grizzly was at the water’s edge, lumbering along the shoreline. He could see the varied shades of brown in its coat, feet damp from the water, the signature hump on its back, just behind the neck. “Wow,” he said, and heard rapid shutter clicking as the bear obligingly turned its head to look over its shoulder and right at them...even though they were well over a hundred meters away, looking down.

She kept shooting as long as the bear was in view, but once it disappeared into the tall grass and trees again, she lowered the camera.

Her eyes shone at him, hitting him square in the gut. So blue, a luminescent shade that reminded him of the aquamarine earrings his mother wore. Her excited energy filled the air around him, making him far more aware of her than he was comfortable with.