A laugh twinkled in his chocolate-brown eyes. “So, Angela Bijou expects a lot.”
She pointed her index finger at him, bingo-style. “That would be an understatement.”
He seemed to consider his words. “And you...like this job?”
She shot him a look. “I love my job.” Defensiveness gurgled in her throat. “I’m sure she’ll chill out. It’s my responsibility to think about what she needs every minute. It’s what I was hired to do.”
His chin dipped in understanding if not approval. “I see.”
Uneasy now at the thought that she might really be in over her head, she turned to peer out the window. She was good at her job, for heaven’s sake. Why would she allow self-doubt to creep in?
She feigned interest in the passing scenery. Except for the two-lane highway ribboning between pine-forested mountains, all signs of civilization had been left behind at the outskirts of town. Courtney absentmindedly tapped a bottle against her leg in time with the radio, marveling at the symmetry between the natural beauty around them and Adam’s seemingly arbitrary soundtrack. The song modulated up a key just as an impossibly green pasture appeared from around a bend. Beyond it, glorious deep blue mountains appeared matte-painting perfect against the clear morning sky.
Awe surged through her. “This place is amazing.” Her insides fluttered as she struggled to find small talk. “So, have you always lived here?”
“All my life.” He tilted a nod. “In fact, my great-great-granddad was one of the founding fathers of Thornton Springs. It was a mining boomtown back in the late 1800s.”
“Cool.” That was cool. She envied him having that kind of connection to a place, especially one so idyllic.
“And you?” He sounded so much more at ease than she felt. “Where are you from?”
“Fresno.” She relaxed a little, encouraged by his show of interest. “I moved to L.A. after college. Ever been there?”
He shook his head. “Never been much for cities.”
“Really? But L.A. has everything...theaters, museums, beaches. Things you don’t find in a small town.”
“Hey.” His tone became playfully defensive. “We’ve got a playhouse in Helena. Museums, too. As for the beach, we generally make it to Flathead Lake at least once a summer.”
She couldn’t help but study his features as he spoke. He seemed like the guy who would be cast in the role of handsome Montana cowboy, only he was the real thing. She smiled. “Ok, I was wrong. Smalltownsville has everything we have back home.”
He tossed her a glance and a grin. “No, you’ve got one thing we don’t. You can keep your smog. Give me the fresh Montana air any day.”
A deep breath quelled her protest. She hadn’t really given it much thought, but she’d been breathing easier since she’d gotten here. There was something to be said for that. “But, seriously—” she pivoted her body toward him “—what do you do for fun? I mean, in L.A. you can go to a movie any time of the day. You can shop. Plus we have a million great restaurants.”
“Really? A million?” His eyes twinkled. “How many have you been to?”
“Well...” She dipped her chin. “A few short of a million. But it’s good to know they’re there.”
“We have restaurants here, too.” He tilted his head in her direction while keeping his eyes on the road. “There’s the diner, and Guido and Sal’s pizza place. For special occasions we go to Esther’s Kitchen up in Halston. My sister Janessa works there. Great food. You should try it.”
“I’ll keep that in mind if I have a special occasion.”
An elaborate gate at the start of a long private road off the driver’s side of the highway snagged her attention. Two huge wagon wheels bookended mammoth wrought-iron letters that curved across the top, spelling out Bar-G Ranch.
Courtney’s eyes widened in recognition. “Hey, that’s one of our locations. We’re shooting there for the next couple of weeks.”
“I know.” Adam nodded toward the gate as they drove past. “In fact, I’ll be working around your schedule, trying to keep the animals calm.”
“Oh, that’s where you work?” She swiveled around to scan the expanse of pasture beyond the gate.
“Yep. As a matter of fact, I—”
“How far is this well, anyway?” She snapped her attention forward, and her neck muscles tensed. This was taking way too long.
“It’s just right here.” He eased the truck off to the side of the road into a small dirt parking area.
A simple wooden roof on four corner poles covered a couple of metal spouts. Courtney wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but this sure wasn’t it.
She eyed the spouts suspiciously. “You’re sure this water is safe?”
“Believe me, it’s all we drink at our place. All most of the town drinks. It tastes better than anything out of a bottle and it’s free.”
“Free. Great. That ought to offset the cost of the stuff I’m having jetted in from France.”
A smirk playing on his lips, Adam opened his door, then reached over to take two of the bottles. “Movie people are something else.”
She couldn’t help but meet his smile. “You said it.”
Chapter 5
By the time they got back to town, Adam had convinced himself that Courtney’s interest in him was strictly limited to his ability to help with the water. It was all for the best, although he couldn’t deny his disappointment. Not only was she easy on the eyes, she was funny and interesting, and had a way about her that made him long to get to know her better.
“The school is our base camp,” she explained as a man waved him into the parking lot of the grade school a block off the main street of town. “You’ll have to park over there. They won’t risk the sound of cars now that they’ve started shooting for the day.”
Adam obliged, then nodded toward the bottles in her hands. “Let me help you carry those.”
“Oh, I can manage.” She cradled the bottles in the crook of one arm and opened the passenger’s door. “Thanks again. I guess I’ll see you—”
“Courtney! Where have you been?” A woman wearing a headset and a deep frown raced toward them. “Ms. Bijou has been shouting for you. Didn’t you get my text?”
“Oh....” The fear in Courtney’s lovely eyes melted into decisiveness. She faced Adam. “Would you mind doing me just one more quick favor?” She pointed to a row of Winnebagos that lined one edge of the parking lot. “See that dressing room trailer on the end? The silver-and-pink one? Would you mind running these bottles over there and sticking them in the fridge?”
“Okay, but—”
“Thanks. I owe you one!” She deposited the bottles in his arms, jumped out of the truck and took off with the uptight headset woman.
I owe you one. He chuckled, pleased with her implication that they’d be seeing more of each other.
He got out of the truck, walked to the trailer and tapped lightly on the door. When no one answered, he stepped inside and looked around. A nice-sized living room had a makeup counter on one end and a small kitchen on the other. He crossed over to leave the bottles. This felt a little intrusive, but if it would help make Courtney’s job easier, it was worth it. She seemed like a nice girl stuck in a really thankless situation.
After shutting the fridge, he made a beeline for the exit. He’d wiled away a good part of the day already, and his crew would be wondering what had happened to him.
Just as he reached for the door, it swung open and in walked Miss Bijou herself in an old-fashioned dress, her auburn hair pinned up fancy and her makeup overdone in an actressy sort of way.
“Oh.” Her wide eyes gleamed as they raked him from head to toe and back again.
Adam tried not to interpret her expression. “Pardon me, ma’am.” He removed his hat and gestured with
it toward the kitchen. “I was just—”
“Are you the masseur I asked for?” She tilted him a long look as she swung out one hip.
His stomach bucked. “No, ma’am. I’m here to help Courtney.”
“Oh.” She straightened. “I didn’t realize they’d given her an assistant.”
“No, ma’am, not an assistant.” He edged past her, keeping as much distance as he could. “Just doing her a favor.”
“I see.” Sidling into his path, she extended a dainty hand. “I’m Angela Bijou.”
“I know.” He fingered his hat, then gracelessly reached out to shake. “I’m Adam Greene, ma’am.”
“Adam.” She squeezed his hand and seemed to roll his name around in her mouth. “Courtney will have to get you a crew pass so security will know to let you on set whenever you like.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He reclaimed his hand from her grasp and reached for the doorknob. Feeling like Joseph fleeing from Potiphar’s wife, he made his escape, taking the two steps in one bound. A few yards from his truck, he ran into Courtney on her way to the trailer.
Her eyes brimmed with concern when she saw him. “Is everything okay?”
“Fine.” He looked up to see Angela Bijou leaning against the doorway of the trailer, sizing him up as if he were a prize bull. “I just met your boss.”
“Oh.” Following his line of sight, Courtney’s words quivered with quiet alarm. “I’m so sorry.”
* * *
A shiver surged up Courtney’s spine as Angela ogled Adam from the doorway of her trailer. Her expression read like an open book, one with Fabio splayed across the cover.
Next to Courtney, Adam fidgeted uncomfortably. Somehow, he didn’t strike her as the kind of guy who would enjoy being the blue-plate special at Café Man-eater.
She encouraged him toward his truck. “Thanks again for your help.”
He nodded, taking the final few steps to the driver’s side door. “Anytime.”
His gaze lingered on Courtney just long enough to make her want to demand his definition of “anytime.” Was that just a show of courtesy, or a subtle hint that he hoped to see her again? And why did Angela have to stand there looking as if she’d made her main course selection and he was it?
As the old green pickup bumped and rumbled from the lot, Courtney reluctantly turned to follow her boss into the trailer.
Angela stood at the mirror primping her wig. “So, tell me about the cowboy.”
Heat scored Courtney’s face. “Adam? Well, he—”
“He’s adorable.” Angela yanked out a tendril and forced it into a curl. “He’d make a nice diversion.”
A constriction squeezed Courtney’s chest. “A diversion?”
“You know—something to take my mind off the pressures of work. Besides, this is my first Western. A cowboy could help me get a feel for this character. What do you think?”
Courtney bristled, certain that the real answer to that would clinch her place in the unemployment line in no time. She needed to be tactful. “Um...great. But what about Mr. Caulfield?”
Angela rolled her eyes. “Jeffrey? He could stand to know he’s not the only cowboy on the range, if you know what I mean.”
The little hairs on the back of Courtney’s neck stood on end. Could anybody really be that self-absorbed?
“Besides—” Angela took a large makeup brush and added some rouge to her already-too-made-up-for-the-1800s cheeks “—being seen with someone from the working class could be good for my reputation on this movie. Even though my character is from money, she’s a simple country girl at heart. Yes, I think having my own cowboy would do me good.” She put down the brush and looked directly at Courtney. “I need you to arrange a date with him.”
Courtney’s courage dropped into her sneakers. How could she possibly play matchmaker for the cowboy and the diva? Adam would never go for it, and Courtney would suffer the consequences.
She fumbled for a deflection. “Your water should be chilled.”
“Fabulous.” Delight lifted Angela’s countenance. “Grab a bottle for me, would you? We need to make our plan for the cowboy. What’s his name...Alan?”
“Adam.” Courtney’s throat tightened around the word.
“Right.” Angela breezed out the door, a satisfied smile on her Barbie-doll-perfect face.
Courtney groaned. Adam was too down to earth to be toyed with...wasn’t he? She had to think. He was so nice—maybe he’d play along just enough for Courtney to receive kudos for a job well done.
She grabbed a slightly chilled bottle from the fridge and moved toward the door. At least now she had a reason to talk to Adam again. She half smiled. And he would be a whole lot easier to locate than French mineral water.
Chapter 6
As Courtney’s gaze swept across the front of the Victorian-style ranch house, she half expected J. R. Ewing to stride out the front door.
The sprawling structure looked even prettier than she’d imagined when she read the script—think Southfork Ranch overlaid with Music Man. Its wooden siding gleamed a luminous white, while interesting turrets, ornamental gingerbread trim and a vivid red, slanted roof gave it the authentic 1880s character the location scouts had needed. A porch swing shifted from the movement of the crew working on the wide wraparound porch, enticing Courtney to abandon the skimpy camp stool on which she now perched and stretch out in comfort.
A movement from a small second-story balcony over the front porch caught her attention. Lacy curtains fluttered behind a windowed door, then stilled. Courtney narrowed her eyes, but saw no more signs of life. Her imagination raced. She’d overheard that the house had been built in the 1800s and the original family had passed the ranch down through the generations. Apparently, the current matriarch lived here with her kids. What kind of people would live in an impressive house like this?
She scrutinized the area and took in a lungful of hay-infused air. Since Angela was inside the house waiting for the crew to finish prepping for her entrance, Courtney had nothing to do.
A whinny drew her attention to a gorgeous but weatherworn red barn that stood some distance from the house. In a large fenced-in area just in front of the barn, a beautiful black horse reared up, shaking its head at a cowboy wearing dusty blue jeans and a tan work shirt. Intrigued, Courtney stood and moved slowly toward the corral. As she grew closer, her heart rate quickened. Adam.
His back was to her, and she allowed her gaze to wander from his broad shoulders down to his narrow hips and long legs. He stood firm in brown cowboy boots even as the horse lifted her nose and let out another protestation.
“Whoa, Pepper. Easy, girl.”
The soothing cadence of Adam’s deep, husky voice brought a smile to Courtney’s face and seemed to have a similar effect on the animal.
“Easy, Pepper.” Adam held up a reassuring palm, reaching with the other hand for a rope, which hung from the horse’s neck.
Much to Courtney’s amusement, the animal took a step toward Adam, as if giving him permission to take hold of the rope. Inch by careful inch, Adam moved his palm toward her. Just as his fingers grazed the horse’s forehead, he reached out with his other hand and grasped the rope.
Courtney’s heart did a little pirouette. She glanced back at the crew guys, confirming that they were still busy setting up, and crossed to the outside of the corral.
Just as she opened her mouth to say something clever, her foot sank into a soft spot in the ground and she felt herself falling. In a terrible instant, she knew exactly what was about to happen. As she landed with a splat in the mud, both hands sank nearly to the wrists. Adam whipped around, surprise coloring his stubble-shaded face. He hurdled over the fence and knelt behind her, hooking his hands under her arms, and raised her to her feet.
“You okay?” His voice soun
ded light, but concerned. Moving around to face her, he kept his hands on her elbows for just a few beats while she regained her footing.
“I...I think so.” She looked down at herself, partly to conceal the fact that her cheeks were turning the same shade of red as the barn next to them. “I can’t believe I did that. What a klutz.”
“Hey, we’ve all done it.” His hand still on her elbow, he guided her out of the muck. “It’s pretty easy to fall out here if you’re not wearing boots.”
She simpered slightly. His laid-back manner helped to lessen her feelings of total humiliation. At least she wasn’t trying to impress him, because she truly would have just blown it if that were the case. Feeling steadier, she faced him. Her pulse kicked it up another notch. “Thanks for the hand.”
“No problem.” He peered down at her mud-caked jeans. “Hey, I think we’ve got some clothes that will fit you out in the bunkhouse. It’s guy stuff, but some of our hands are in high school. I’m pretty sure something would fit.”
She glanced back at the set, where things still appeared to be a far cry from readiness. “That sounds good.” Catching his eye, her stomach did a quiet somersault.
He started toward a small white structure that looked like the dollhouse version of the main house. Her nerves jumped. This must be where he lives. Along with the other ranch hands.
They stepped up onto the cute front porch and Adam pushed open the door. Moving aside, he gestured for her to enter the cozy living room. It was tidy and simply decorated in a Western motif.
Impressive. “This is what you call a ‘bunkhouse’? I was expecting...you know...bunks.”
He smiled that nice smile, the one with the dimple. “The bunks are actually through there.” He aimed a thumb at a couple of doors that led off a hallway to the side of the living room. “Some of the guys live here year round, so it’s great for it to feel like home.”
Lights, Cowboy, Action Page 3