Craving Country

by Gorman, A.

  “El-la,” she cautioned.

  It was no use. At five feet and three inches, Ella only came up to Owen’s (very broad) chest, but that didn’t faze her in the least. No, Ella used her lack of height to poke him in the aforementioned chest. Twice, to punctuate two words.

  “You’re on.”

  Then she snatched back her pool stick and told Joey to rack ’em, which he laughingly obliged. Jessica caught up with her and grabbed her arm, hissing into her ear.

  “What are you doing? You suck at pool. Seriously, Ella. I leave you for five minutes, and this is what happens? I can’t even.”

  “Hush, I know. It’s his fault, damn it. He started it. Jerk.”

  Jessica looked over at Owen, who was in an intense dialogue with his friend. Every time he ran a hand through his hair, ovaries around the whole bar exploded. Shaina Conroy actually fell off her barstool. Trista Blaire was fanning herself. Even crabby Martha May in the corner had doe eyes trained on the man. He was…spectacular. And single. And her best friend—also single, equally beautiful, was calling him a jerk. To his face!

  Across the pool table, a similar conversation was occurring between Owen and Eddie.

  “Uh, dude, what are you doing? All the years I’ve known you, I have never, ever seen you play pool. This is gonna be a slaughter.”

  “Please. How hard can it be? Hit the balls into the holes with the stick. Simple. And you heard her. She started it.”

  “What, are you two in kindergarten? I tell you what, though. She is a knockout. Not what I pictured at all, man.”

  Owen glanced over at Ella and grumbled something inaudible. Ella, he said her name in his head. A beautiful name for a…

  “Hey, crazy woman! Are you going to start, or shall I?”

  “Oh, by all means, Mr. Movie Star, you go right ahead and break.”

  Ella couldn’t break. She always missed. But he didn’t need to know that. Eddie coached Owen discreetly.

  “Take the triangle thing off the balls, carefully. You aim the white one down there at ’em and try to sink some in the pockets. Then you call solid or stripes, depending on what goes in.”

  “Yes, yes. I know the fundamentals,” Owen said impatiently.

  Ten minutes later, they were engaged in what was likely the most pathetically played game of pool anyone in Everwood (or Hollywood, for that matter) had ever seen. Everyone save Eddie and Jessica had lost interest. But for Ella and Owen, it was as if this was the battle of the century. If one were to look only at their faces, and not the near full table, they would think two world class champions were at war.

  “How long are we going to let this go on?” Jessica asked Eddie conspiratorially.

  “Oh, man. This is really bad. Dunno. Got any ideas?”

  “Nope. She’s as stubborn as a mule. Him?”

  “Same. So, what’s her problem with our guy over there? He’s a sweetheart, if I say so myself.”

  “Aah, she’s just…well, she’s just got a bit of a chip on her little shoulder. Your buddy got caught in her crosshairs. She’s a sweetheart too.”

  When Eddie looked dubiously at her, she added, “Honest!”

  The two, for lack of anything better to do while they waited on the dueling pseudo pool sharks, began comparing baby pictures and family life stories. Eddie’s wife and kids were still living just outside Hollywood while he was on location, and he missed them all terribly. Jessica, taking pity on the sweet man, invited him to dinner with her, Ray, and Jackson the following week.

  “Owen is welcome too, of course.”

  “You’re a doll. We’d love to. A home-cooked meal sounds incredible right about now.”

  Just then a loud crash could be heard over the din of the music. They looked over in shock at the sight of Ella on top of Owen, both sprawled out on the floor, the long overhead lamp shattered on the pool table where they’d just been playing.

  “Let go of me! I’m fine.”

  “I have let go! How about you get off me? You may be little, but you’re damn sturdy!”

  “Did you just call me fat?”

  “Sturdy!”

  “Meaning fat!”

  Eddie and Jessica looked at each other in disbelief.

  “What the hell just happened?” asked Jessica, interrupting the bickering.

  “I was setting up my shot, and this ape grabbed me and yanked me to the floor!”

  “Don’t flatter yourself! I was saving your life! Again, I might add. Not that ‘thank you’ is in your vocabulary.”

  Owen would only admit to himself that he did, perhaps, hold on to her a moment or two longer than necessary. Her hair had been across his face, his lips and nose against her throat, and when he breathed in her scent…well, he forgot himself for a moment. However, her slightly raspy, irate voice brought him right back to his senses.

  He lifted her off him like she weighed no more than a doll, plopping her unceremoniously on the floor as he stood and brushed himself off. A man, presumably the bar’s owner by the look of anxiety across his face, approached Owen in a panic.

  “Oh my God, Mr. Collins! I’m so sorry. I saw what happened. The light—you almost—oh, man, please don’t sue me.”

  “Uh, hello? I was the one who almost got killed by your falling light, Lucky. What the hell?”

  Ella, now also standing and brushing herself off, was insulted. She was the one bent over the pool table, not Mr. Big Shot, when that damn light fixture came loose from the rafters and crashed down.

  “Yeah, until I saved you!”

  “Hero complex much?” she scoffed.

  “You impossible—hey, you’re bleeding.”

  “I—what? Where?”

  Ella looked down at her hands and legs and saw nothing. When she picked her head up, Owen Collins was yet again inches from her. Before she could react, he had a napkin to her temple, concern written across his face.

  “Does it hurt?” he asked gruffly.

  “It—no. Ow! Well, it does when you press it!”

  Owen sighed and shook his head. This woman. He took her chin in his free hand and turned her head so as to get a better look. Surprisingly, she let him. Nonetheless, he had to ask, “You’re not going to punch me, are you?”

  “Don’t be ridic—”

  Before the word was out of her mouth, a hand clamped down on Owen’s shoulder from behind. Then the next thing he knew, he was getting punched in the face.

  “Timmy! You idiot! What the hell are you doing?” yelled Ella.

  All the men in the immediate vicinity jumped up, some holding back Timmy, some holding Owen. All the women in the vicinity swarmed Owen with offers of ice, sympathy…and views of their cleavage.

  “I just got off the stage and someone said you were over here and—and that guy attacked you! Did he hurt you? I’ll kill him!”

  “Timmy. Timmy. Look at me. I’m fine, thank you.”

  From a bar stool behind her came Owen’s voice. “Sure, you thank him.”

  She ignored it and continued.

  “Look around.” She waved a hand at the broken glass-covered pool table. “That thing fell while we were playing pool. I’m fine—”

  “Because I saved you,” called out Owen indignantly.

  “You can’t go around punching people without a good reason.” She turned in Owen’s direction and added, “Even if they look like they should get punched.”

  Jessica, who had been busily diffusing the situation—calming Lucky, sending everyone away from the scene of the drama, and all around “mom-ing” everyone—had seen enough.

  “Okay, I don’t know what has gotten into you, Ella McKinley, but it is time to go home. Let me see your head. A butterfly stitch will take care of that. Say goodbye, and let’s go before you find yourself more trouble.”

  “It’s his fau—”

  “Nope, not hearing it. Let’s go.”

  Owen watched Jessica pull Ella by the hand, no doubt afraid that if she let go, she’d indeed find more trouble. He stood
to follow but was stopped by a very apologetic Timmy.

  “Mr. Owen, uh, Collins? I’m real sorry. See, I thought you were assaulting Ella, and well, no one lays a hand on my girl—”

  “Your girl? You and…that woman are a couple?”

  Owen felt a stab of disappointment. Before the man could answer, Owen was heading for the door, Eddie in tow. He’d seen and heard enough for one night.

  CHAPTER 3

  OWEN AND ELLA

  The next morning found Ella in Jessica’s backyard cutting lemon leaf branches for the wedding that evening, muttering under her breath about stupid men and their stupid egos.

  “Are you sure it’s their egos that are the problem?” asked Jessica, coming up from behind Ella with a steaming cup of coffee.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” huffed Ella.

  “All right, kiddo. Time for some tough love. I’ve had about enough of this bitter ‘I hate men, I’m never going to love again’ routine. You are beautiful, inside and out, and it’s time to let all that stuff go, Ella. Jake was a jerk, may he rest in peace. He died before he could either make it right or you could divorce him. You have too much love to give and too many years ahead of you to be acting like a spinster. Your daddy wouldn’t have it for a minute, and you know it.”

  Ella said nothing but kept cutting. She was blinking hot tears back and trying to swallow the lump in her throat. Jess sure knew where to hit her, and of course, she was right. Ella’s daddy raised her to be strong and independent, but he also taught her to have an open heart and a forgiving soul. Her mama was just the same, too. They were perfectly matched and deeply in love until the days they died, one month apart, when Ella was twenty-five.

  Jess put a hand on her shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze to soften her words. Ella sighed. Her dear friend was right, as usual. It was time. She let herself think about Owen, this time without the façade of disdain. Jess, as if reading her mind, spoke again.

  “You like him, Ell. He likes you. Those sparks were flying everywhere, and anyone with eyes could see it. Give the man a chance and stop worrying about ‘what if.’ You’ve survived everything that’s come your way, so I think you can handle some movie star paying attention to you, right?”

  Ella couldn’t help but laugh and grudgingly say, “He is really hot, isn’t he?”

  The two friends hugged, Jess wiped away the stray tear that had escaped the corner of Ella’s eye, and they walked arm in arm to the barn.

  “Yes, he his. Now let’s go say a quick hello to the goats before you get back to work on Betsy’s wedding. I hear she’s being a bit of a Bridezilla, hmm?”

  Ella filled her in on the latest hysterical bride antics as they fed the newborn kids. Then it was time to get back to the shop and make the bouquets for Betsy and her bridesmaids…all nine of them. The whole time she worked, she thought about Owen Collins. She recalled each of the incidents with a new, more objective eye and realized how awful she’d been to him. She resigned herself with knowing that she would have to find him and apologize tomorrow when she delivered the flowers for River Ryan’s party.

  Meanwhile, on the other end of town at Milton’s Farm, Owen Collins was in the foulest mood Eddie had ever seen. It was time for an intervention, and Eddie was dreading it.

  “So, uh, Owen. My man. I think we need to talk about—”

  “That woman! She is crazy, am I right? Of course, I’m right. And she clearly has a black cloud following her around. Well, I hope I never see her again.”

  “You like her.”

  “No, I do not.”

  “She likes you.”

  “Ha! If that’s how she likes a man, I shudder to think how she’d act if she hated him!”

  “Isn’t she delivering the flowers for River’s party tomorrow?”

  Owen halted.

  “She is, isn’t she? Well. After tomorrow, I hope to never see her again.”

  Eddie smirked and decided not to mention the dinner invite to Ella’s friend’s house, where Ella would very likely be as well. After a few more minutes of muttering and swearing under his breath, Owen stomped off to film his last scene for the day.

  So much for an intervention, thought Eddie. He had a sneaking suspicion that those two were either going to kill each other or wind up in bed together. Hell, maybe both. The only upside was that Owen had yet to see the tabloids, which showed split shots of Owen holding Ella in the rain on one side and a furious-looking River Ryan on the other. The shot of River was from her last movie, and they were sensationalizing the story, of course. The captions ranged from “Who’s Owen’s Mystery Woman?” to “River Ryan Flies into Rage as Owen Wilson Rendezvous with Side Fling” and everything in between. Eddie shook his head and thought, It’s gonna be a long weekend.

  CHAPTER 4

  SUNDAY

  “I’m here with a delivery for River Ryan.”

  Ella tried to look disinterested, but she was a little awestruck by the transformation of Milton’s Farm. Production crews and extras milled around, backdrops, lights, and cameras were everywhere, and two oversized trailers took up a large space by the barn. She also tried to not look for a glimpse of Owen or wonder if he was inside one of those trailers, but her eyes scanned the area anyhow.

  Just as her eyes found the door of one trailer, it opened. Out strutted River Ryan herself, looking smug. She spotted Ella and wagged her fingers in a “come here” motion that made Ella want to choke her, but she obliged, balancing the box of flowers between her arms carefully. But then a large shadow filled the small doorway behind her, and Ella’s eyes widened. It was Owen, and he looked angry.

  When his eyes met hers, the expression didn’t soften, but something did change in his eyes. No matter, she told herself abruptly. Unlike him, she had seen the tabloids, thanks to Harry waving them under her nose that morning. The rumors were confirmed; he was involved with River Ryan. She needed to drop these flowers off and get the hell out of there, fast.

  River had caught the wordless exchange between Ella and Owen and wasn’t about to let the opportunity to put this townie in her place. Over her shoulder she called out, “Owen, sweetheart, be a dear and help me with these.”

  Help her? I’m the one holding the damn box, thought Ella incredulously. Owen saw her face and, reading her mind, couldn’t help but smirk. He wanted to strangle River five minutes ago for “letting it slip” to the tabloids that they were a couple (a lie), but now he was surprised to be feeling grateful to her for putting Ella in his path again. Not that he’d admit it, of course.

  “Hello, Ella.”

  “Owen. Are you—is your face all right?” she asked awkwardly.

  Internally, she groaned. Is your face all right? Idiot!

  “I—it, yes. I’m fine, thank you.”

  Owen was completely taken aback. Gone was the hostile attitude, the rudeness, the clenched fists. There was a softness and vulnerability now that he found charming.

  “How is—your head?”

  Forgetting the box balanced in her arms for a moment, she made to reach up to the butterfly bandage on her temple. The box began to tip, and Owen quickly leapt forward to brace it. Together they held the box awkwardly between them, smiling.

  “Well, then!”

  River clapped her hands together loudly, annoyed that her tactic backfired and brought the two together. They separated, transferring the box from one to the other. Ella wiped her now-free hands on her overalls and made to speak. She was going to apologize to Owen, even if it didn’t matter anymore. River Ryan would have none of it, though.

  “The flowers look…satisfactory. Thank you. I believe you’ve been paid, yes? Oh, are you waiting for a tip, dear?”

  Now Ella’s hand did clench into a fist. Owen was quick to intercede.

  “River, don’t be crass. Ella, the flowers really do look…beautiful. Thank you.”

  The way he said beautiful made Ella’s heart flutter. His green eyes bored into hers with unspoken words. It made her c
onfused and sad. Abruptly she turned away, calling behind her, “No problem. Enjoy your party!”

  She left hastily. Owen made as if to follow her down the long gravel driveway, but River stopped him.

  “Owen, we have a party! I hope you’re not leaving!”

  Torn and disappointed, he remained.

  CHAPTER 5

  TOMORROW ALWAYS COMES

  “Ella, would you be a darling and finish setting the table? Here, take these plates.”

  “That’s too many. There’s only the three of us.”

  Ella went to hand Jessica back the two extra dishes, but Jess put her hands up with a smirk.

  “Actually, we have two guests coming for dinner tonight.”

  Before Ella could wonder at who was joining them, the doorbell rang.

  “Oh, never mind the dishes. I’ll do it. You get the door for me.”

  Ella did as Jess asked, scooping up Jackson onto her hip as she went to the front door. When she saw who was on the other side, her heart leapt, and she froze in place.

  “Hey there, Ella,” said Eddie. “Can we, uh, come in?”

  Beside him was Owen, looking unsure as he glanced from Ella to Jackson.

  “Oh! Of course, yes, come in!” Then loud enough for Jess to hear her from the dining room, “Jess didn’t tell me there’d be others!”

  Jessica came out from around the corner, Ray came in off the back porch, introductions were made, and beers were handed out. Everyone kept looking surreptitiously at Owen and Ella until at last, neither could take it any longer.

  “I’m going to check on the goats,” Ella blurted.

  “I’ll join you,” announced Owen.

  Jackson was handed back to Jess, Ella walked out the door with Owen in tow, and Eddie, Ray, and Jess smiled knowingly at one another as they clinked their beer bottles together. As for Ella and Owen, they said nothing on the walk across the yard. Once in the dimly lit barn, though, they both began to speak at the same time. Owen, ever the gentleman, gave way to Ella, who by way of roundabout apology, began haltingly to tell him her story.