“Um, Officer. I mean, Wheeler. That would be very nice, I’m sure, but how do you know I’m even from around here?”
“Not many people come up this road with Illinois tags that aren’t headed to Ruby Spring,” he said as he opened his trunk, grabbed jumper cables and walked to the front of his cruiser. He raised his eyebrows at her as he felt under the hood of his car for the catch to raise it. She narrowed her eyes. Was it psycho to be jealous of a car hood?
“Oh. Well, how do you know that I’m not just passing through and staying at the hotel there?” she tried again, folding her arms.
“Because the hotel isn’t accepting guests. There’s a big sign at the entrance that says so. You have to be one of the drama people.” As he walked by her, he winked and patted her head. Carly stomped after him.
“Now how would I know that? I didn’t see any entrance,” she demanded.
“Then you should have been looking closer about an eighth of a mile ago.” Wheeler straightened up and held out jumper cables. “Here. Hold this, Miss Explorer.”
Carly snatched them from his hand and looked down the road. “You mean to tell me the ghost town is around that bend back there?”
He winked again and began humming as he connected one end to his battery.
She rolled her eyes and ran her hand through her hair again. “Great. Just great.” Embarrassed, she looked down at her new red wedge sandals. They were covered in coffee stains, too. Feeling Wheeler’s eyes on her, she looked up and caught his intent, almost ferocious stare.
What was with this guy? She normally didn’t fall for smooth lines and men who were way too delicious for their own good. And she certainly didn’t fall for pushy guys. But this guy did rescue her. Her resolution not to lust after, develop a crush on, and/or date people from summer theater jobs didn’t include tasty cops she met on the side of a road, did it? No, it certainly did not.
She cleared her dry throat and Wheeler’s lips curved in amusement. “So how about that drink tomorrow night?”
She grinned. “OK. Yes. And thanks for your help.” Hell, it was summertime and she could allow herself some adventure. Still smiling, she ambled back to her car and watched with pleasure as Wheeler attached the jumper cables and then turned the ignition in his cruiser.
“Start it up, just to make sure,” he yelled over the heavy metal. Good God, he was hot.
“Sure thing.” Carly gritted her teeth as she slid into the sticky seat and fumbled with the key. The engine came to life and she gave him a thumbs-up.
“Don’t forget to buckle up, sweetheart,” he shouted. She hadn’t been called that in ages. Her face turned red and she glanced over at Wheeler. He was seat-dancing to the music, trying to make her laugh. And she did. How could she not be sucked in?
He removed the cables, threw them in his back seat and then slid into the driver’s seat. “I’ll call you,” he mouthed with a wink and with a spin of tires he was off. He was around the next bend by the time the dust cleared.
Chapter Two
Still smiling, Carly made a U-turn and headed back down the highway. She braked around one sharp curve and immediately saw a huge sign for Ruby Spring. How could she have missed it? Pulling across the road to the entrance, she slowed down and peered at the writing on the bottom.
“Guest services unavailable this summer but please join us for live professional Theater. 7:30 nightly, opening July twentieth,” she read aloud. “Nice,” she said wryly as she drove up the gravel road. It twisted and turned, much like the highway, for about a mile and then opened out into a spectacular little valley.
Neat, weathered wooden buildings lined the single-wide dirt throughway that passed for a street. The largest and nearest building on the right side of the street was painted in vibrant Victorian colors reflecting the mountainous desert setting. An elaborate, antiquated sign read “Ruby Spring Hotel.” Next to the sign was a paved parking lot with several cars.
“Civilization!” Carly exclaimed and steered around the hairpin turns down to the valley. As she approached the hotel, she saw a tall blonde woman waddle onto the front porch. The woman shaded her eyes from the sun with one hand and pressed the other over her swollen abdomen. Carly turned off the car and hopped out.
“Carly?” the woman inquired.
“That’s me,” Carly called and bounded up the steps. She held out her hand and smiled.
Taking it, the woman beamed and said, “I’m Sophie. Daniel’s wife. Did you have any trouble getting here?”
Carly laughed and shook her head. “I’ll tell you about it later. Daniel told me all about his theater, but he didn’t tell me you were expecting.”
Sophie rolled her eyes and held open the screen door. “Men. It’s OK, though. I would rather have him fussing over that than fussing over me.”
Carly followed her into the lobby, bracing herself for the possibility of decay in the old building. Her eyes were drawn instantly to the front desk. It was a large semi-circle, of intricately carved dark oak and built into the banister of the wide, curving staircase.
“Wow.” Carly ran her hand over it. “This is amazing. I have to tell you, I didn’t know what to expect when Daniel said ‘restoration needed.’ I guess he wasn’t talking about the hotel.”
Sophie chuckled. “No, the hotel is in great shape. It’s been in operation since it was opened in 1885. This summer is the first summer we won’t have guests, but it’s worth it if we can get the theater restored.”
Carly wandered over to the built-in bookshelves to the left of the staircase. “These are great, too.” Lost in her favorite pastime, old architecture, she didn’t realize someone was behind her until cold hands clapped over her eyes. She yelped and struggled to turn around.
“Nope, gotta guess first,” whispered a familiar voice. Carly smiled hugely and grabbed the well-known hands that covered her eyes. “Ross, you’re here!”
Turning around, she gave him a giant hug and then looked him over. Dark, almost black, hair peeked out from under a rag of a baseball cap and his jeans fit him like a second skin. His tight T-shirt showed off smoothly muscled, deeply tanned skin. He had a dancer’s body, and he showed it off to his best advantage. His wide smile was infectious as he winked at her flirtatiously. Ross was completely the same, except, of course, for the fact that he had pierced his left eyebrow.
She gave him a light punch in the stomach. “When did you get here?”
“Mark dropped me off at O’Hare and I flew into Albuquerque last night. He cried buckets, but honestly, I don’t miss him all that much. I’m terrible. But, really, we had only gone on a couple of dates. To tell you the truth, he was getting kind of creepy. So, it’s over. I’m such a slut. Ha. Did you make it here OK?”
Carly sighed and patted his shoulder. “I’ll tell you about it over a huge glass of water and some lunch.”
Sophie walked to the other side of the lobby and pushed open a swinging door. She was all business. “Carly, hope you don’t mind living on the third floor. Most of the guest room furniture is in storage and a bunch of rooms are bare, awaiting renovation. We have another empty room on the second, but it’s kind of small. Since you’ll be here for a while, I gave you the bigger one. Daniel will be home in a little while and he’ll help you with your things. In the meantime, come on into the kitchen and you’ll get that water and a sandwich right now.”
Ross clasped her hand and pulled. “Carly’s here, Carly’s here,” he chanted as he dragged her toward the kitchen.
“You’re such a little kid,” she retorted, elbowing him in the ribs.
“And you’re not immature?” he shot back.
“At least I don’t leave bawling boyfriends at the airport,” she teased, pulling them both through the swinging kitchen door.
“No, you leave cops swooning over you in the mountains.”
&nbs
p; He opened his mouth, mimicking her shocked expression. Carly’s face turned bright red for the second time that day.
“What? How do you know about that?”
“I went for a little hike up the south ridge about fifteen minutes ago and stopped at a cliff. I saw the whole thing, you shameless whore.”
She gasped and sank down at the kitchen table. Still laughing, Ross handed her a large glass of ice water. Her face heated, she took a long drink and then peeked at Sophie over the rim.
“Which cop?” asked Sophie in a casual tone as she began to pull sandwich makings out of the refrigerator.
Carly’s eyes went liquid and she sighed. “His name is Wheeler. And we have a date tomorrow night.”
Sophie dropped the bread on the counter and turned around. “Um … not a good idea. You are begging for trouble if you get mixed up with him.”
Carly glanced at Ross. He shrugged. “Seemed cute enough to me,” he said, “plus he saved this aging damsel in distress.”
Sophie shut the refrigerator with her hip and unscrewed a jar of mustard. She didn’t respond, and Ross and Carly looked at each other in confusion. After a minute or two, she turned and placed a sandwich on the table in front of Carly. “Look, I don’t mean to be negative,” she said as she lowered herself to a chair, “but Wheeler is a … well, he’s quite a handful. To be diplomatic about it.”
“I get it,” Ross said. “You mean he’s an asshole.”
Carly slapped her hand over his mouth. “I appreciate your concern, Sophie. But I can handle Wheeler. It’s really just one date, just to thank him for helping me out.” She paused. “If you think about it, he was a gentleman. He didn’t even touch me except to shake my hand,” she added.
Ross smirked and reached over to squeeze the back of Carly’s neck. “Plus, our girl here is old enough to take care of herself. Almost thirty, hmm? When’s your birthday? Isn’t it sometime in June?”
Carly narrowed her eyes and pushed his hand away. “I don’t see how that is particularly relevant, Ross.”
Sophie drummed her fingers on the table and looked back and forth from Ross to Carly. After a moment, she shook her head. “OK. Why don’t you finish that food and then you can take a tour of Ruby Spring?”
Ross jumped up. “I’ll meet you out front,” he said and bounded out the door.
Sophie chuckled. “Does he always have that much energy?”
Carly nodded her head yes, her mouth full of food. Ross never got tired and put his work above everything else. Two of the many reasons he made such a great director. Carly swallowed the last of her sandwich, and then drained the last of her water. She gave Sophie a sheepish grin. “Guess I was hungry.”
Sophie looked at her with amusement. “Ross makes me jealous,” she said. “Not that I am lazy, but being eight months pregnant sucks the ambition right out of a person sometimes.”
Carly patted her hand. “From what Daniel says, you are the ambition behind this entire project.”
Sophie grinned. “Well, now that you mention it, the only way that man stays on track for even twenty seconds at a time is if I manage his every move.” They both laughed as the kitchen door swung open with a bang.
“Manage this!”
Carly turned at the deep, familiar voice and saw a tall, thin man with dark hair entering the kitchen. He was loaded down with Carly’s luggage and was attempting to balance an open bottle of grape soda on top of it.
Sophie jumped up from the table, faster than it would have appeared possible. “Daniel Henry Day.” She reached out and plucked the soda from its precarious position on top of Carly’s makeup case. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Daniel winked at Carly. She couldn’t help but laugh as she stood and grabbed some of her luggage from his arms. He dumped the rest on the table and turned to Sophie, enveloping her in a warm embrace. He placed a loud kiss on her neck and she squealed, smacking his arm.
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m making out with Miss America,” he said into her shoulder.
Wiggling free, Sophie held him at arm’s length and her expression softened as she looked into his eyes. He brushed a lock of hair from the side of her face and lowered his head to kiss her reverently.
Carly stared at them, embarrassed. They looked so perfect together. It was ridiculous to feel like a third wheel with people she didn’t even really know, but all the same, she felt minuscule. She used to long for a man to look at her like that. But not anymore. Not this summer. The next three months were supposed to be completely devoid of theater romance.
Irritated with herself, she shook it off and snapped her fingers.
“Earth to Daniel and Sophie,” she said. “Is it about time for that grand tour?”
With reluctance, Daniel let his hands slide from Sophie’s shoulders. She leaned up and kissed his cheek. “Go on. Ross is waiting on the porch. And he isn’t getting any more patient.”
“I can attest to that,” Carly said as she pushed open the kitchen door.
Ross was waiting as promised, a play script and pen in hand. “Come on, cop lover … what’s taking you so long? Did you forget to grab your night stick?” he laughed as Carly rolled her eyes and bounded down the front steps of the hotel.
“Always working, aren’t you?” she teased back as she flicked his script with her index finger. He responded by tugging on an imaginary police hat, whistling and licking his lips. “Shut up,” she declared as she sailed past him. Ross reached forward to grab her hand.
Daniel loped ahead of them, staring up at the façade of the building next to the hotel. Following his gaze, Carly wrestled her hand loose and looked. A few weathered clapboard shingles hung above a big, faded sign that read “General Hardware Store.” Her gaze trailed down the grayish-brown building, noting the simple doorframe and leaded plate glass windows. Amazing. It was like being on the set of Tombstone or some other Western movie. Except it was real.
She shaded her eyes and peered up the street. Next to the general store was what had to be a stable because of the hitching post out front and the hayloft on the second story. She squinted at the building beyond the stable and started toward it. It was smaller than the general store, but still had the remains of faded and peeling red paint.
“What’s this one?” she asked.
“That, my dear, is the saloon,” declared Daniel in a proud voice.
Stopping in front of the entrance, Carly ran her hands over the smooth wood and eased open the ancient screen door. She turned an old brass knob and the thick door creaked as she entered. “What, no swinging shutters?” she joked as she stepped through into the dim interior.
Directly in front of her against the wall was a huge bar, carved much the same as the front desk in the hotel. Scattered around the room were square plank tables, with chairs upended on top of them. Dust sifted through light made by cracks in the window shutters.
A staircase curved from the right side of the bar into a wide gallery-style balcony that encircled the room. Several stools and an old piano perched up there, as if waiting for customers to come and observe the action below. Carly was in her element. She stood motionless, her tired eyes straying around, darting here, resting there.
“We could leave her here for ten years and she’d still be in heaven,” whispered Ross.
Daniel smiled. “Just wait ’til she sees the theater.”
The theater was far beyond Carly’s expectations. Standing at the back of the house, she swiveled her head in amazement. “This is like winning the lottery,” she whispered, looking up. A generous, sloping balcony arced in a semicircle overhead. On either side of it, quaint boxes with red tattered curtains nestled into the old plaster walls. Wide, curving rows of faded velvet-covered wooden seats sloped down before her, ending in an elaborate, soaring proscenium arch. The arch framing the s
tage was painted a dull white, but Carly knew that a treasure was hidden beneath.
She meandered down one of the two side aisles, looking at the chandeliered ceiling as she walked. “This used to have a mural, didn’t it?” she asked.
Daniel stomped past her and flopped into a seat in the front row. A cloud of dust rose into the stuffy air. “Yeah. Although the only pictures we have of the original aren’t all that great. My brother, wonderful man that he is, offered to help you out with the ceiling restoration.”
“Oh yeah?” Carly answered and climbed the narrow steps in front of the stage. Making sure to be gentle, she scratched a corner of the proscenium with a fingernail. “OK by me. This was gilded, I would imagine,” she muttered.
“What’s ‘gilded’?” Ross asked. He was behind her now, looking up into the cavernous area above the stage. The backstage door of the theater flew open with a thud, jolting Carly from her inspection.
“Gilded means golden, and unfortunately for you, Daniel, that’s not the term I would apply to that dangerous witch you hired to be your lead actress.”
Carly swiveled and saw a tiny woman slam the door shut, a tape measure looped around her neck, her hands jammed on ample hips. A puffy red scratch mark marred one round cheek. Throwing back her frizzy lion’s mane of hair, the woman clomped on platform sandals to the front of the stage. She leaned down and stuck a finger in Daniel’s face.
“She has to go. I can’t work for twelve weeks with a diva like that! You’re the producer. It’s either her or me. I won’t stand for co-workers who assault people!”
Daniel’s eyes widened and he looked at Ross for help. Ross rolled his eyes and walked over to the woman and took her by the shoulders.
“Sweetie, are you Nancy? My brilliant costume designer?” he cooed. “I am SO excited to be working with you. I’ve heard so much about the show you just opened in L.A.” Taking her arm, he steered her down the narrow steps and up the central aisle of the theater.
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