He shrugged. “Mostly. They assigned me an amazing editor who slapped it into its final shape.” He tapped the computer screen, then stroked his index finger across it.
Fern Lake. The firefight in the snow. A close shot from over a firefighter’s shoulder. Him warming his hands for a moment by holding them toward a thirty-foot wall of flame, his Pulaski fire tool propped momentarily against his hip, a puff of freezing breath turned white against the brilliant orange backdrop. She knew this one too.
The emotional punch of his images went straight to the gut every time.
Cal didn’t quite know what to do with Jeannie’s reactions to his photos. They were good images, especially the one from the Fern Lake fire. That was more him somehow. The cover shot was pretty; the firefighter was powerful.
