Lights, Cowboy, Action

by Lesley Ann McDaniel

  Curiosity crossed her face. “What is it?”

  “Specialty of the house.” He filled her cup full of clear liquid. “I call it ‘Faux Douce.’ I’m considering bottling it and selling it to people in foreign countries. They’ll think it’s exotic.”

  She giggled and took a sip. Her expression shifted. “Oooo, that really is good. No wonder Angela liked this better.”

  “I could have told you. No point in spending all that money. God has provided the sweetest water on earth for us right here.”

  She seemed to consider his words and took another drink.

  Adam opened the rest of the containers. “Dig in. It’s nothing fancy.”

  Picking up a piece of chicken, she contemplated the view. “It’s perfect.” She met and held his gaze. “All of it.”

  Uneasiness prickled his skin. It did seem just perfect.

  Eager for a distraction, he swept his attention across the valley. “See that place up there—where the side of the mountain levels out?” He pointed to a nearby rim.

  “You mean where it looks like a shelf?”

  “Yeah. It’s called Eternity Ridge. That’s probably my favorite place in this whole world.”

  “Oh, really?” Grabbing a piece of corn bread, her eyes seemed to sparkle. “Why’s that?”

  “You can see across four counties from there.” He hesitated. Why was he telling her this? “It’s where my mama and dad had their wedding.”

  “No kidding?” She pointed. “Way up there?”

  “Uh-huh. I don’t go there much. It’s kinda...special.” He considered. “I’ll take you up there sometime, if you’d like.” Had he really said that? He’d never suggested that to anybody before. What was it about this girl?

  Serenity tinted her pretty eyes. “I’d like that a lot. If you think I’m up to the ride.”

  “An old hand like you?” He elbowed her arm.

  She teasingly bumped him with her knee, sending warmth through him like he’d never experienced before. He mentally pinched himself. Not only did this girl not live in Thornton Springs, but he didn’t even know if she was a Christian. It was totally irresponsible of him just being here with her.

  That thought drifted off and an odd contentment settled in its place. He smiled and picked up a drumstick. Who but the good Lord Himself knew what He had in store?

  Chapter 9

  “Where’s my breath spray?” Angela stood next to Jeffrey on the front porch of the ranch house, face tilted toward a makeup lady and hand outstretched.

  Rising a little too quickly, Courtney grimaced. A surge of pain careened through every overexerted muscle in her body. She grabbed the spray from Angela’s bag and tried to force herself to move normally. Every action felt like torture. Who knew that horseback riding could provide such a full-body workout?

  At the bottom step, she took in a deep breath. This was not going to be fun. As she hoisted up her foot, a movement hooked the corner of her eye. Adam, carrying a couple of wood planks from the barn, grinned and shook his head at her. She shot him a playful glare and hoisted herself up another step. Of course he wasn’t sore this morning.

  “Courtney! My spray.” Angela waved her hand, still unable to turn away from the powder puff in her face.

  Forcing a fortitude she did not feel, Courtney bolted up the steps, handed the bottle to Angela and fired a so-there look at Adam. He responded with an even bigger grin.

  “Clear the set. Places, everyone!” The assistant director’s warning initiated a scurry of activity from the porch.

  As the makeup artist hurried away, Courtney retrieved the bottle from Angela, who prevented her leaving with a grab of her wrist. Youch. Even that part of her hurt.

  Angela tossed a half look in Jeffrey’s direction. “Was Adam terribly disappointed yesterday?”

  Jeffrey tilted his head as he adjusted his cuff button.

  “A little.” Courtney kept her voice low. “But he understood, just like you said.”

  “Good.” Angela clearly intended to be heard. “Tell him I’ll more than make it up to him soon.”

  Courtney forced a stiff nod. Angela dropped Courtney’s wrist so abruptly that the spray bottle popped from her grasp, rolled and came to a stop next to Jeffrey’s steel-toed boot.

  “What’s going on up there? Clear the set!” Although Keith Kingsley bellowed loud enough to be heard in the next county, he somehow felt the need to use the megaphone, anyway.

  Suddenly paralyzed by a potent tonic of pain and humiliation, Courtney looked from the silent crew gaping up at her to the wayward bottle at Jeffrey Mark Caulfield’s feet. The very thought of taking those few steps and bending down made her want to consider a career change. Mr. Kingsley raised a threatening eyebrow and an image of herself on the next plane home flashed through Courtney’s mind.

  Just as she was about to power through the painful movement, Jeffrey bent to pick up the bottle, then handed it to her.

  Gratitude surged through her aching form. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it,” he said with a wink of one of his famous silvery-blue eyes.

  Angela tsked. “You’re keeping her from doing her job, Jeffrey.” She whirled toward Courtney. “Keith said to clear the set.”

  Biting her lip in lieu of a bullet, Courtney scurried down the steps and eased herself onto her campstool.

  “Roll film...action!”

  Angela gazed up into Jeffrey’s eyes. If the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences could have witnessed her instant transformation from ticked-off leading lady to adoring heroine, she would win an Oscar for sure.

  With one eyebrow raised á la Clark Gable, Jeffrey spoke his first line. “Jessie, I’ll come back for you. I promise.”

  “I know you will, Cord.” She twisted her hands in front of her and batted her long lashes. “You always keep your promises.”

  Taking her by the shoulders, he gave her a long, lingering kiss.

  Courtney watched in fascination. Nobody had ever kissed her like that. How could actors make it seem so realistic?

  “And cut!” Mr. Kingsley shouted into the megaphone.

  Angela pushed away from Jeffrey. “Ugh. What part of ‘don’t grab me so hard’ do you need defined?”

  “I’m barely touching you.” Jeffrey rolled his eyes and turned as the makeup lady charged toward him with a cotton ball aimed at his mouth. “As it is, I have to overcompensate for the passion of the moment with my reading of the line.”

  “Passion?” Angela spoke with stilled lips as another makeup artist dabbed at her with a brush. “You wouldn’t know passion if it bit you on the face.”

  “Hrmph.” His mouth apparently free of any trace of Angela’s lipstick, Jeffrey took a water bottle from his assistant. “It’s called ‘acting,’ darling. Something you might like to try sometime.”

  Courtney could have sworn she saw smoke come out of Angela’s ears. They were both acting, all right. Acting like a couple of kids.

  Twelve takes later, Courtney had been up and down the steps so many times her legs felt numb, but it was probably better than sitting still. They had finally made it to the end of the scene, where Jeffrey’s character, Cord, rides off on his trusty horse after kissing Jessie.

  “...and...action!”

  Releasing Angela from the kiss, Jeffrey trudged boldly from the porch toward the waiting horse, which the wrangler held just out of the shot. Looking extremely ill at ease, Jeffrey grabbed the saddle horn and started to lift his foot to the stirrup.

  “And cut!” Mr. Kingsley’s voice was no less grating even when he appeared pleased. “Perfect, kids. Let’s move on. Where’s my riding double?”

  A man dressed identically to Jeffrey sprang to his feet and switched places with him. Mr. Kingsley bellowed “Action!” a
nd Jeffrey’s twin mounted the horse and rode away.

  From the corner of her eye, Courtney watched Jeffrey plunk down in his canvas chair and take a swig of water. She felt a little sorry for him, being unable to do his own riding. He had, after all, jumped from a burning building in The Dark Bandit, and scaled a sheer rock wall in Final Vengeance. It wasn’t like he was a wimp or anything.

  Angela leaned against the porch railing, watching the stunt double ride out of the shot. As soon as the director yelled “Cut!” she pushed herself upright and stormed down the steps.

  “This is embarrassing. Why does Jeffrey get to look all macho and heroic when he can’t even get on the horse?”

  Sighing audibly, Mr. Kingsley stood and met her at the base of the stairs. “What can we do to make you happy here, Angela?”

  Reluctantly, Courtney joined the throng of technicians who swarmed around the star like bees.

  “I want a riding scene.”

  “A what?”

  “A scene where I ride a horse. I think Jessie needs to show that she’s tough and capable. After all, she’s fighting to save her ranch, isn’t she? She has to show that she’s a match for the men. Jeffrey’s character rides a horse. Why shouldn’t mine?”

  Jeffrey, who had been sitting with his hat in his lap and his feet elevated, leaped up and charged toward them. “Don’t fall for it, Keith. She’s only trying to make me look bad.”

  “Oh, like you need my help with that.” Angela folded her arms and shot him a scalding glare.

  A tiny bead of sweat trickled down Mr. Kingsley’s forehead as he looked from Angela to Jeffrey, seeming to weigh the consequences of favoring one star over the other. His eyes landed on Angela. “We’ll write something in.”

  “Aw....” Jeffrey tossed back his head and stomped to his chair.

  Mr. Kingsley continued. “Give us a day or two to sort out the specifics. In the meantime—”

  “In the meantime, I can start taking lessons.” A small smile played on Angela’s lips.

  “Lessons...right....” Mr. Kingsley rubbed his craggy brow and directed his words to the A.D.—crew speak for “assistant director.” “Talk to the wrangler about teaching Angela to—”

  “Not that idiot.” Angela drew a long lean arm in the direction of the corral where Adam was examining a broken rung on the fence. “Him.”

  “Him?” Mr. Kingsley’s eyes grew large. “But, he doesn’t even work for us. He’s the—”

  “I need someone I’m comfortable with. Otherwise, it will never work and we might as well forget the whole picture.”

  A bird cawed breaking the silence that otherwise settled over the yard. Courtney’s heart raced and she fought the urge to blurt out that this was just a ploy to manipulate more time with Adam. If Mr. Kingsley said yes, it would encourage Angela to continue to make ridiculous demands, and put Adam on the spot. He didn’t have time to teach lessons. He’d said so himself.

  “Fine.” Mr. Kingsley wiped his hand across his eyes. “I’ll have my A.D. work out a schedule.”

  Courtney’s chest squeezed. Why couldn’t anybody say no around here?

  “She’ll arrange it.” Angela waved a hand toward Courtney. “She knows the cowboy.”

  Mr. Kingsley regarded Courtney with a defeated air that communicated both approval and solidarity. “Fine. Just talk to the A.D. and make sure he gets a contract signed.” He looked again at Angela. “Now, can we get back to today’s shooting schedule?”

  Angela gave a nonchalant shrug and sauntered to her chair.

  As the crew disbanded to set up the next shot, Mr. Kingsley bent in close to Courtney. “Just tell the cowboy we’ll pay him double the going rate for riding lessons. Anything for the movie.”

  Courtney looked at Adam, still inspecting his fence, and rehearsed how to talk him into this. Anything for the movie.

  * * *

  Adam rubbed his jaw as he surveyed the broken fence. It was just a couple of boards, but if he didn’t fix it today, he might not get to it till next week. He’d fallen behind on his work as it was, thanks to the movie. With the guys out tending to their own chores all day and him not able to make any noise around the cameras, things could go downhill real fast. As if life around here wasn’t tough enough.

  He looked up as Courtney hobbled toward him, doing a poor job of concealing her sore riding muscles. His mood shifted. At least one thing in his life right now felt uplifting.

  “Hey.” Stopping on the outside of the fence, she offered him about the prettiest smile he’d ever seen.

  “Hey, yourself.” Not very original, but at least he hadn’t made a dumb joke.

  She studied the boards propped against the fence. “We’re between shots now if you need to, you know, hammer anything.”

  He smiled lightly, appreciating the acknowledgment of his plight. “No, I think I’ll wait. I’m a little afraid of that guy yelling at me through his bullhorn again.”

  She nodded, clearly remembering the other day when filming had stopped because he had misjudged his timing in bringing Pepper out to graze. It had been humiliating having the entire cast and crew staring at him.

  Draping her arms over the top rung of the fence, she watched him measure one of the boards.

  He flicked her a quick look, sensing that this was more than just a casual visit.

  “So, I was wondering...” She wavered, as if her thought hadn’t yet fully formed.

  A grin found his lips. “Yes?”

  “Remember when we were out riding, and you said that you—”

  “Hey, Adam!”

  Both their heads snapped in the direction of the trail from the backcountry. One of his lead hands galloped toward them with an urgency that made Adam jerk to attention.

  “Yeah, Leonard?” he called out as the man neared.

  “We got us a drainage problem out in the north pasture. I thought you’d want to get on it as soon as possible.”

  Adam heaved out a breath. What next? “Thanks for telling me.”

  Leonard tipped his hat toward Courtney—at least his guys knew to acknowledge the presence of a lady—and turned his horse around, heading back from where he’d come.

  Lifting his eyebrows, Adam gave Courtney a resigned look. “So much for the fence.” He tucked his tape measure into his toolbox and flipped the lid shut.

  “Oh.” Something sounding like disappointment tinged her voice. “Will you be gone all day?”

  “Could be. Depends on how bad the problem is.” He stood and faced her. If he could have his way, he’d stay and wile away the afternoon with her, but they both had work to do. “You were about to ask me a question?”

  Her eyes opened a little wider, as if he’d reminded her of something she wasn’t quite confident about putting voice to. “Oh...uh...it can wait.”

  That small hesitation made him all the more determined to drag it out of her. Eyes narrowing, he leaned on the fence across from her. “Now, after all the effort it took for you to limp over here, it would be ungentlemanly of me not to give you a chance to say your piece.”

  She jabbed her thumb in the direction of Leonard’s exit. “But don’t you have to go?”

  He lifted a palm. “A minute more won’t hurt. What did you want to ask me?”

  “Would you mind...” Pausing, her gaze skimmed past his shoulder to where the horses grazed. “Is it all right if I give Pepper an apple from crafts service? I’m trying to win her over.”

  “An apple?” He snickered, wondering what she had really wanted to ask. “Sure. But don’t worry about winning her over. I think she’s already smitten.” His mouth lifted as he bent to pick up the tool box.

  Smitten. Yeah. He had to admit it. Pepper wasn’t the only one.

  Chapter 10

  “How can I possibl
y choose? They’re both so cute.” Standing in the living room of her trailer, Angela jutted out a slender hip as she studied the two dresses Courtney held up on hangers.

  Courtney gritted her teeth to keep from shouting, “Just decide!” It was only for the car ride back to the house where they were staying in town. Who cared if she wore Vera Wang or Nicole Miller?

  Shifting her weight, Courtney tried to suppress her rumbling stomach. All she wanted was to grab a sandwich at the diner and attack her laundry. She hadn’t been able to put on a clean pair of jeans in five days.

  Just as Angela grabbed the Vera Wang, the doorbell pinged. “Tell them to go away!” she barked over her shoulder and retreated toward the bedroom.

  “It’s me, Ms. Bijou.” The voice of the PR woman—Jody?—sounded through the closed front door. Courtney shot a contrite wince in the direction of Angela’s departure and went to open it.

  Jody, if that was her name, wore a look of apology that melted into bland irritation at the sight of Courtney. Balancing a stack of eight-by-ten photos of Angela in her arms, she called into the room. “I’m sorry to bother you, Ms. Bijou, but I have a favor to ask.” She held a beat before adding. “For the movie.”

  Angela, now dressed, strutted from the bedroom to the makeup table. “Well?”

  Jody stepped inside and plunked the pile of glamorous glossies onto the coffee table. “The Montana Children’s Welfare League is hosting a fund-raiser showing of Princess Pricilla in Helena tomorrow morning. I just found out about it.” She shifted nervously. “Kids love you in that movie.”

  Angela smoothed her hair and smiled at her image in the mirror. “Of course they do.”

  “The league would like you to make a personal appearance.” Jody couldn’t quite suppress the nervous quiver in her voice. “It would be great publicity for N2M.”

  “Tomorrow’s Wednesday.” Angela frowned. “Am I available?”

  Jody wrung her hands, probably without realizing it. “Keith is willing to work around it.”

  “I don’t know.” Bending closer to the mirror, Angela stroked her impossibly thick eyelashes with her index finger. “Would I have to do anything?”