He stared at her, puzzled, but she thought he believed her.
“We should just take your camera in to Marty Decker. He runs a great camera shop in town. I’m sure he can figure out what’s going on. You know, even if it’s just a camera, I think anything and everything can be hacked these days. I wouldn’t even have a computer if we didn’t need the damned thing for the business. Leave it with me. I’ll get it to him, and I’ll make sure he saves your pictures of the elk. They’re really beautiful.”
“Thanks, Ben,” she told him. “I use computers and cameras all the time while I’m working, but I’ve never seen anything like this.”
Ben shrugged, then asked, “You going to join us for dinner?”
She was still offended that he could even think she would do something like that, but on the other hand, she couldn’t really blame him. She forced a smile. “No, I’ve got some paperwork to finish, but thank you for the invitation. You’re sure you don’t mind taking the camera to your friend?”
“Not at all.”
“Okay, thanks.” She gave him a little wave and walked away. Terry Ballantree and the Bartons crossed her path, so she paused to say hello, even though she longed to get away and try to sort out what had happened.
“Scarlet, thanks so much for the tour yesterday,” Terry said. “Any way I can get another look before dinner? I’d love another look at some of those old photos.”
“We loved it, too,” Gwen said..
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourselves,” Scarlet said. “Ben is kind of strict about the museum. It’s only open Thursday to Sunday, and this is Monday, but if you’re all here for a few more days, I’ll ask him if I can take you back through for a private tour tomorrow or Wednesday.”
“Thanks,” Terry said.
“That would be great,” Gwen said. She and Charles were both in their twenties, and they almost looked like children playing at marriage, but Scarlet had found them both to be open and friendly. Charles had been a football player at Ole Miss, and Gwen had been a cheerleader. Now he had just started his own law practice. Gwen was blond and blue-eyed, a perfect contrast to his tall, dark and handsome.
Terry was a nice guy, too, though his never-ending enthusiasm was a bit exhausting. He was good-looking, with sandy brown hair and large hazel eyes, a generous mouth and a perfect nose. While he was only medium height, he was in good shape.
But with her nerves completely frayed right now, she just wasn’t up to dealing with any of them.
“I’ll talk to Ben and let you know,” Scarlet said, then quickly made her escape. “See you all later,” she called over her shoulder.
The old storage barn had been given windows sometime at the end of the Victorian era, and though plain shades were drawn over the museum windows, those upstairs boasted pretty drapes.
Scarlet unlocked the door and stepped inside. The security lights, added to the last of the daylight seeping in, created an eerie glow, but it didn’t bother her in the least. She was in love with the place. Many of the displays were the originals, over a hundred years old, as were the placards they held, written in cursive by a gentle hand almost a hundred and fifty years ago.
There were life-sized figures on pedestals arranged throughout the room, ranging from Ute chiefs in full battle regalia to Yankee and Rebel soldiers, fur trappers, gunslingers and frontier women, along with excellent re-creations of real people like Teddy Roosevelt and John Muir. There were twenty-two of them altogether, the oldest nearly as old as the ranch itself. Her favorite was a Ute woman holding a child and looking skyward. There was something so beautiful in her expression that Scarlet was certain she had been modeled from life by an artist who adored her.
The stairs to her apartment were to the far left. A sign hanging from a velvet rope advised No Admittance. She unhooked the rope and walked upstairs.
The whole second floor was hers. She had a kitchen, dining room, living room, bedroom and even a guest room. It wasn’t fancy, but to be honest, she preferred it to the main house, which had been fully renovated to offer the rustic, frontier look guests expected.
In the main house, the parlor was spacious, and boasted Victorian furniture, period portraits and paintings, and a number of mounted animal heads, all of them at least a hundred years’ old. The dining room offered more massive heads, including a giant moose head that stared down at the large central table, which seated twelve.
The animal heads actually made Scarlet a little sad, but Trisha had told her that they were part of the tradition of the West and the guests expected them. Even so, Scarlet had never quite gotten used to them, and she had actually declined several meals at the main house because she felt so uncomfortable eating with the dead moose looking down at her.
Her place, however, was, in her opinion, just as nice as the main house, not to mention it was her own.