Craving Country

by Gorman, A.

He braced his hands on the counter and leaned in so close to Ella that she could smell the minty gum on his breath. He looked into her eyes, then glanced down at her parted lips. Oh my God. He’s going to kiss me. And I’m going to let him. She felt her body sway toward him; now she could feel his breath on her lips. A teasing smile danced on his mouth, then he turned his head away, toward the back corner.

  “Bye, Petal. It’s was nice meeting you, boy.”

  The next thing Ella knew, he was out the front door and rounding the corner. Of course, the sun was back out again, as if the skies just parted for him and his perfectly tousled, dashingly silver flecked hair. She was mortified and enraged, looking for something to throw. She plucked pens from their holder one by one, yelling with every toss aimed at the door.

  “Arrogant!”

  “Pompous!”

  “Conceited!”

  “Jerk!”

  Ella had glanced down and grabbed for another pen to throw when the doorbell chimed unexpectedly. The pen was airborne before she could stop it.

  “Oh! Damn, Ell, you trying to kill me? Geez.”

  “Jess! I’m so sorry. Are you all right?”

  Jessica was Ella’s best friend for as long as they both could remember. From sleepovers to sneaking out, to marriages and deaths, they’d been by each other’s sides for every single major life change, good and bad. Adulthood had not pulled them apart but, in fact, brought them closer. They’d been maid of honor at one another’s weddings and were godmother and emergency contact for each other’s kid and dog (respectively).

  It was Jessica who’d sat by her side at Jake’s funeral; Ella’s parents were long dead, and she had no siblings and only an elderly aunt and uncle left for relatives. She was there when Ella took a baseball bat to Jake’s Mustang, letting her get in a few good swings before calming her down. And when Ella confronted Jake’s mistress, Jessica was with her for support. Or more likely to keep Ella from killing her. In short, Jess was one of the only three people Ella had left in the world, not including Petal, who in Ella’s eyes was better than most humans anyhow.

  “I’m fine, I’m fine. Obviously, you’re not, though. What’s with the projectiles?”

  “Ugh! Don’t get me started.”

  “Okay, boss. Mum’s the word. Get it? Mums? You’re a florist…”

  Ella barely heard her.

  “You would not believe what just happened to me.”

  Before Jessica could ask what happened, Ella launched into a rant.

  “The world’s biggest jerk, that’s what happened to me! I just want to punch him right in his perfect, chiseled, square face. Damn it, I wish I had!”

  “Wow. Okay, let’s back it up here. Inhale. Exhale. Good, now start over.”

  Jessica twisted her auburn hair into a loose bun and pushed up the sleeves of her dress, as if she was ready to dive into a messy task.

  “Okay, so, you know that damn mangy cat that hangs around here?”

  “Yeah, the one you named Buddy and swear you hate but feed every day? Go on.”

  “Well, just as I opened the garden gate to bring Petal inside—that was when we had that big downpour earlier—that rotten little vagabond went strutting by. Well, Petal lost his mind and started chasing him all around—in the pouring rain and thunder and lightning, mind you—and I’m out there trying to catch them.”

  “So you want to punch Petal?”

  “No, you ninny, not Petal! Just listen. So, anyhow, that stupid cat ran up the tree—the one between me and Harry’s—and of course, I can’t just leave him up there to die, even though he deserves it. So I grab my ladder and climb up there, but the stupid thing was all slippery and of course I fall—”

  “Oh my God, Ell! Are you all right?”

  Ella sighed and blinked exaggeratedly at Jessica.

  “Of course I am. You’re looking at me, aren’t you? Anyhow, next thing I know, I’m in the arms of this, this brute! He puts me down, after I practically have to order him to, and we go inside and he’s all smug and conceited and Mister Big Shot and he untangles my hair and—”

  “Uh, yeah, Ell, he sounds like the worst. Saving your life, playing with your hair, sounds awful.”

  “Oh, shut up. You weren’t here to see the look on his face. Just because he’s some big Hollywood actor—”

  “Whoa! Hold up, you literally left out the most important detail. Please do not tell me that Owen Collins is the man who saved your life and touched your hair, and oh my God…was he standing here? Like, right here, in this spot? I’m dying. Dying.”

  “Aren’t you exaggerating a tad? I don’t even see what the big deal is. I, for one, am not impressed.”

  Jessica slitted her eyes at Ella, then widened them and clapped her hands excitedly.

  “Oh my God. Ella’s got a cru-ush, Ella’s got a cru-ush.”

  “Shut up. I do not. Zero interest.”

  “I hear they’re going to be here for months. You know what that means, right? He’ll be coming into tow-own, he’ll be coming in to tow-own.”

  “If you don’t stop singing like a second-grade girl, I’m going to punch you.”

  “Now, now, Ella-Bella, violence doesn’t become you. Unless you’re beating the hell out of Jake’s Mustang. Now that was a thing of beauty. Speaking of Jake, that was the last time you got like this over a guy.”

  “Ha, and look how that all turned out. And wait a minute, like what?”

  “Oh, you know, all stompy and mad and starry-eyed.”

  “That’s ridiculous. Anyhow, even if I did…like him, it would be pointless. He’s Hollywood, I’m Everwood. Big city, small town. Oil, water. So whatever. Are we going to Lucky’s tonight or what?”

  “Whatever you say, darlin’. And yes, we are going to Lucky’s, but not until you go and fix all this.”

  Jessica waved her hands at Ella’s still damp overalls and flat hair as she added, “Timmy’s band is playing.”

  Ella gave her a side-eye glance. Jess tried to sound nonchalant but failed. She’d been trying to set Ella up with Timmy for the past six months, but to no avail. Ella was not on the market for a new man, now or ever again. Since Jessica knew this, she felt no need to respond. Unfazed, Jess went on.

  “You know, Ell, it wouldn’t kill you to get out there again. Live a little. You’re thirty-six, not a hundred and six. Plenty of time to find a good guy and settle down again, have kids, a white picket fence…all the stuff we always talked about. Just because Jake was…well, Jake, it doesn’t mean it’s over for you. Besides, Jackson really could use a playmate.”

  “Oh, now that was a low blow, pulling on the heartstrings like that! Besides, Jake’s only been gone a year. It wouldn’t look right. Not that I’m interested in dating, mind you.”

  “We’ve been over this a million times. Everyone knows what a shit Jake was—Rest His Soul—and everyone wants to see you happy. Just go make yourself presentable and let’s get over to Lucky’s. And if you can put on your friendly face, I’ll let you come over to the farm tomorrow and feed the baby goats.”

  “I was coming over anyway, remember? I need some more of your lemon leaf for Betsy’s bouquets.”

  Seeing Jessica’s expression, she added, “Fine, yes, friendly face!”

  Ella went to the back room and opened the door that led upstairs to the apartment above the shop. Even though she still owned the old farmhouse and acreage on the outside of town, where she and Jake had planned on starting a family and farm of their own, she hated going there now. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to sell it, a fact that annoyed her immensely.

  Twenty minutes later, in a “more presentable” attire: floral print, above-the-knee-length dress, cowboy boots, and her long hair in a loose braid, she was ready to go to the only bar in town with her best friend.

  “All right, Petal, my horrible watch dog, off to bed you go, big guy. See you in a few hours.”

  She kissed his wide warm snout and hugged his massive neck, all of which he endured stoicall
y. Jessica laughed and shook her head at her stubborn friend.

  “You and that dog! I think that if you won’t give your godson a playmate, you should maybe get your mutt one. I hear the Taylors’ dog just had another litter.”

  “Nope, only shelter rescues for me. Funny you should mention, though. They brought in a red nose Pittie to the pound last week. If no one claims her by Thursday, she goes up for adoption. I already put in my application.”

  “Aww, that’s great, Ell. But, uh, it’ll get kinda crowded in the apartment with two big dogs, don’tcha think?”

  Then, tentatively, she added, “Maybe it’s a good time to move back into the house?”

  Instead of answering the question, Ella pointedly stated, “Let’s walk over to Lucky’s. It’s a nice night.”

  Jessica sighed but knew not to push the issue…for now. She was determined to get her friend back on track and back to the old, carefree, and unrestrained Ella that she knew was still deep inside this hard shell of a woman. She just hadn’t figured out how.

  Chapter 2

  OWEN COLLINS

  “Most ungrateful woman I’ve ever met in my life! And I work in the most greedy, self-centered industry there is, so I know ungrateful when I see it.”

  “Uh, yeah, Owen. I know. You’ve been going on about this chick for an hour. Are we gonna run some lines or what, man?”

  “I mean, I literally saved her life! Did I get a thank you? No! Did I tell you, Eddie, that I think she was going to—”

  “Punch you. Yes, you mentioned it. Twice. Listen, man, the guys in the crew want to head into town tonight—there’s one bar there and they’ve got music, and it’s like, the only thing this place has for nightlife, so…”

  “Yes, yes. Of course. Sorry, Eddie.” Owen picked up his lines but then set them down again with a thwack on the table. “She has the most amazing-looking dog, though. Makes me miss my old boy Rufus.”

  Owen tapped his chin a moment, lost in thought. Eddie closed his eyes and pinched his nose between his thumb and middle finger. Owen Collins wasn’t your typical Hollywood type. He had no desire to be coddled or have his fragile ego protected. He sensed that Eddie was able to speak straight to him, no holds barred. He was right.

  “Okay, Owen. Buddy. Remember back when we were making Law of the Land? You said, ‘Eddie, if I ever start acting like one of those self-absorbed actors that I hate, you gotta tell me.’ Well, the time has come, my friend. Snap out of it. Come out with us tonight. It might do you good to get out there with the common folk.”

  “Ugh, Eddie. So sorry, man. It’s just, well, that woman has got me wound up, and I don’t understand why.”

  “Was she pretty?” asked Eddie knowingly.

  “Well, yes. But pretty is dime a dozen. She’s…different. She had this long, messy hair, like the color of pale champagne, or no, like the sand dunes in the Sahara—I filmed a commercial there, remember—and she had on overalls and these ridiculous rubber rain boots. Not a stitch of makeup, either. She looked like—”

  “A bag lady?”

  Owen’s description was not painting an attractive picture, but his eyes when he spoke…now, that said volumes.

  “Holy shit, man! You like this woman! I’ll be damned. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this, and I’ve been working with you for eight years.”

  “What! No. Don’t be absurd. Didn’t you hear how awful she was to me? How could I possibly be interested in someone so…so rude? You know what? Let’s just forget about it and get on with my lines. Quickly, before River comes around wanting to rehearse.”

  River had been dropping less than subtle hints that they should take their onscreen romance offscreen, but Owen knew full well her interest in him had more to do with what it could do for her career and less about Owen himself. He’d already fallen for one Hollywood starlet who used him to further her career, and he was not about to fall for it again.

  Owen and Eddie got back to work, quickly bouncing lines off one another until Owen felt they were just right. While he believed the whole fame aspect of his job to be tedious, ridiculous, and at times overwhelming, he truly loved the craft itself, bringing characters to life and telling stories. Thanks to his job, he could use his good fortune (and actual fortune) to help others through anonymous charity work. That was his true calling and purpose in life. Only Eddie and his accountant knew of Owen’s extensive philanthropic ventures, and that’s just the way he liked it.

  His goal was to retire somewhere quiet, maybe someplace like this little town, and have a farm with all kinds of rescue animals. He’d run a ranch for disadvantaged kids, as he was while growing up. Maybe have a wife and kids too. Someday…soon. After this film his contract was up, and he finally had an actual chance of getting on with his dream.

  “All right, man, everything sounds great. We done here?”

  “Yes, Eddie, I think we are. You know, I think I will join you tonight. Disguise or no disguise?”

  Owen preferred to not be recognized whenever possible. He could do without the aggressive women trying to get what was sometimes a very literal piece of him—not that he wasn’t flattered.

  “They seem pretty used to celebrities in town, so I think you’ll be okay. They’re pretty rural here, so maybe a cowboy hat?”

  Owen couldn’t tell if Eddie was joking or serious, until the shorter man lifted a Stetson from the back of a chair and placed it over his curly blond locks, adopting what was meant to be a John Wayne steely glare.

  “Young fella, if you’re looking for trouble, I’ll accommodate ya.”

  “My friend, if that was your best John Wayne, it’s a good thing you leave the acting to me.”

  Owen clapped Eddie on the back to let him know he was just teasing, and the two men laughed amiably as they walked to Owen’s rented Jeep. As an afterthought, Owen ran back to the barn and searched around a moment before alighting on the object of interest: the black cowboy hat his character, Luke Handler, would be wearing in the opening scene. He ran his hand through his dark brown hair, which was now longer than he’d ever worn it, before putting on the hat and pulling it low to shade his eyes.

  He strode back to the Jeep and hopped in, and the two Hollywood men drove into the little town of Everwood to patronize a bar called Lucky’s. Owen didn’t say another word about the woman from the flower shop, but that didn’t mean he’d stopped thinking about her and her rudeness. Or her amber eyes. Or her Sahara sand hair that had been in his grasp only hours ago. Or how, when he held her hair in his hands, all he could think about was pulling those figure-hiding overalls off her, strip her naked, and plunge his rising cock into her over and over again. Why did this woman affect him like…like a horny teenager? He shook himself from his fantasy when Eddie spoke.

  “So, this is the place, huh?”

  Both men looked up at the neon ‘Lucky’s’ sign above the bar’s long front porch. Old whiskey barrels marked the entryway, and a wagon wheel hung from the wide door. Men in cowboy hats and women in faded jeans or knee-length dresses and cowboy boots came in and out through the door. Each time the door opened, a blast of live country music and laughter poured out. Owen smiled.

  “I reckon so, Eddie.”

  Owen turned off the ignition and the two men went inside, where they found the rest of the crew by the pool tables. When they spotted him with Eddie, they gave a welcoming whoop, making him feel both proud and relieved. He rarely “hung out” with other actors, preferring the company of more down-to-earth people, as he considered himself to be.

  “Yo, Rhinestone Cowboy, you play pool? I’m gettin’ killed here by this little townie!” called out Joey, their key grip and resident wise guy.

  “I’ve been known to—”

  The “little townie” had been bent low over the table, lining up her shot. With a deft tap, the striped ball rolled obediently to its pocket. She stood and turned, wearing a Cheshire cat grin…until she saw him. It was that woman. Her smile fell away, and she scowled at him. Sco
wled!

  “You!” they both declared.

  Joey and the others looked from one to the other, surprised. It lasted maybe a few seconds, that weighted moment, but to Owen, it felt like they’d been locked magnetically, all the noise in the bar faded, and he felt like he’d been hypnotized. Eddie had returned from the bar, oblivious until he followed the track of Owen’s gaze.

  “Dude. Your beer? Earth to Owen.”

  Comprehension dawned across Eddie’s face.

  “Ohhh, I see. That’s your rude chick, isn’t it?”

  Ella had closed the gap between them and unfortunately overheard Eddie.

  “Rude? Did he just—did you tell him I was rude? Me? Maybe if you were such an arrogant, chauvinistic—”

  “Arrogant! Chauvinistic? You are the most—”

  “Hey! Hold up, you two! Excuse me, Miss? My name is Eddie. Clearly, you’ve already met my buddy Owen, here. And you are…”

  Ella took pause from seething at Owen and turned to Eddie with such a charming smile that Owen took a double take.

  “Well, hello, Eddie. It’s so nice to meet you. My name is Ella McKinley, and did you know your friend here is a jerk?”

  On that last word, she shoved her pool stick into Owen’s hand and began to stomp off to a chorus of “Ohhhs” from the crowd. It was like an old episode of MTV’s Yo Mama. She was stopped short by Owen Collin’s taunt.

  “I’d rather be a jerk than a coward!”

  The crowd went “Ooooh,” and Ella spun back at him so fast that he once again had to back away from her. Crazy woman.

  “What did you call me?”

  Owen leaned in close, his lips almost touching Ella’s ear, and smirked in a most antagonizing way.

  “You. Are. A. Coward. Afraid I’m going to beat you at pool in front of all your friends. Just admit it. Or not. Either way, it’s obvious.” He shrugged casually.

  Just then Jessica came back from the ladies’ room. Upon seeing the very tall, dynamically beautiful God-like specimen of a man that was the Owen Collins, she dropped her beer and all but swooned. Then she realized her best friend looked as if she was about to assault him and came to her senses.