“Sure was a mess,’’ I agreed.

He lifted my hat off my head and turned my face toward the light of the campfire. Then he peered deep, searching for the non-existent speck in my eye.

“Listen, Jack, I wanted to tell you how well you’ve handled everything that’s happened on this ride. I don’t think many trail bosses would be up to dealing with all that.’’

“Well, thanks, Mace.’’ He pulled his face back a bit from mine and smiled. “That means a lot to hear you say that. I’m sorry about that scare with your sister and the rattlesnake, and then your poor mama and Shotgun. Is everybody okay?’’

I nodded.

“Hold still, now. I think I see something.’’ He barely brushed my bottom eyelid with the tip of his finger, a surprisingly gentle touch. “Got it.’’ He held up a black, buggy speck. “Looks like a gnat.’’

Who knew?

Reaching down for my hat, I took a furtive glance at Carlos and Belle. She was talking, but he was frowning at Jack and me. As I straightened my hat on my head, I sneaked a look at Maddie from under the brim. Her face was creased in a big smile and her hands were nearly hidden in the folds of her riding culottes. But she sent a signal for my eyes only.

Two thumbs up.

I heard whir, snap! A flash of light nearly blinded my gnat-invaded eye.

“Got it,’’ Belle said, lowering an old-school camera from her face. “That was a good one. You and Jack were really lost up there in the stars, Mace.’’

The trail boss looked irritated. “I don’t like having my picture taken, Belle. I wish you’d have given me some warning.’’

“Candid shots are much better, Jack. People look unnatural when you give them time to think about being shot.’’ He raised his eyebrows. Belle realized her turn of phrase. “I mean ‘shot’ like shooting a picture, not shot like what happened to Doc.’’ She sat down next to us. “How is he? I’ve been thinking an awful lot about him tonight.’’

I guess she meant she was thinking of Doc when she wasn’t pouring out her heart to Carlos or walking around “shooting’’ with her camera at anything that moved. I glanced across the fire to where he’d been sitting with Belle a half-hour before Jack and I got caught up in star-gazing. Carlos had disappeared.

“Still no word about Doc,’’ the trail boss answered Belle. “The hospital said he’d probably be in surgery for several hours.’’

Belle lifted the camera to her eye again and shot something arty through the flames of the campfire. Jack used that moment to plead he had business elsewhere. He escaped, leaving Belle and me alone.

“How long have you been taking pictures?’’ I asked, making conversation.

She turned and shot another frame of me, then lowered the camera. It dangled from a strap around her neck.

“As long as I can remember,’’ she said. “Photography has always been my escape valve. Whenever anything was going wrong in my life, I’d get my gear and head for the woods. I’ve always been able to lose myself behind the viewfinder.’’

I could relate. Shooting photos must be Belle’s version of tossing rocks into the water.

“I’d love to get a picture of you with your family, Mace. Would you mind?’’

I hesitated. I’m not a big fan on my best day of having my picture taken. But she was making an effort. What was I going to say? No?

When I didn’t answer immediately, Belle said, “Listen, Mace. I know you don’t like me very much.’’

I started to protest, but she held up a hand. “I can tell, and it’s all right. You can’t be friends with everyone. I just want to make sure you don’t dislike me for the wrong reason.’’ She paused. “You know, there’s nothing going on between Carlos and me.’’

Now she had my attention.

“It’s just that he’s a good listener,’’ she continued, “and I’ve been so sad. It helps to talk to somebody else who’s been through an awful loss. You know about his wife, right?’’

I nodded.

“He’s a good man, Mace. And he’s still hurting. You ought to cut him a break.’’

I was too surprised to speak.

She lifted the camera back to her eye and smiled slightly as she snapped off three or four quick pictures. I looked where she aimed, and saw a teen-aged cowboy flirting with a pretty girl. He was teasing her with a blackened marshmallow on a stick. Their young faces were laughing, and rosy in the firelight.

“Nice photo,’’ I said, thinking of Carlos and me eating S’mores.

“Yep,’’ she said. “That’ll be a good one. Happy times.’’

We sat in silence for a few moments. Her eyes never stopped roaming, looking for scenes she could capture. I wondered how it would feel to have that kind of talent, to know instinctively what would make a good picture. Whenever somebody asked me to take a snapshot, I always aimed wrong and cut off significant body parts.

I reconsidered posing for her with Mama and my sisters. Belle was a professional, with her photos on exhibit in fancy galleries in Stuart and Palm Beach. It might be nice to have a memory of us together on the Cracker Trail. No telling when we’d ever make the ride again.

“Belle,’’ I finally said, “I’d be honored if you’d take my family’s picture.’’

I was rewarded with a smile that transformed her somber face into something approaching happy. “Glad to do it. And I’ve got another idea, too.’’

I raised my eyebrows.

“I’ll get some shots of you and Carlos.’’

“I don’t really think . . .’’

“I won’t take no for an answer. From you, or from him. Trust me. It’s a great way to get the two of you back together. I’m good at this. I can make anybody comfortable in front of a camera. You two will forget I’m even there. You’ll be laughing and fooling around before you know it.’’

“I’m not sure . . .’’

“We’ll do it in the morning,’’ she cut me off, “before the ride starts. The light will be perfect. You two will be perfect. You’ll see.’’

Belle was so determined, I ended up agreeing to meet her by the mule wagons before breakfast. She said she’d handle getting Carlos to show up. I was blown away by this side of Belle. She made Maddie the Bulldozer look reticent.

Within fifteen minutes, Belle was moving Mama and the rest of us around, instructing us to relax. Which, of course, was the cue for us to do anything but. Mama primped. Marty fastened her eyes on the ground. Maddie looked annoyed at being told what to do. I clenched my jaw into a smile that felt more like a grimace.

“This isn’t working, y’all.’’ Belle sighed. “Mace, you look like the governor just signed your execution order. Marty, honey, you’re a beautiful girl. Don’t you ever look anybody in the eyes? And Rosalee, I’m shooting old school, with black-and-white film. No digital, no color. Nobody will know whether you have one coat on or six of that orange lipstick.’’

Mama snapped shut her compact and returned her tube of Apricot Ice to her pocket. Maddie gave an exasperated sigh. Belle told us to go ahead and sit down while she thought of another way to get us to pose without looking like somebody’s prisoners. Just then, Sal returned, with desserts for all of us.

“Oooooh.’’ Mama lifted her hands and squealed. “Butterscotch pie. My favorite.’’

Whir, snap!

Maddie took a plate and handed Marty and me one. We all dug in.

Whir, snap!

“That’s perfect,’’ Belle fired off frame after frame, her face shining with glee. “Now, y’all look like a family!’’