Hot Winter Nights (Made in Montana)

by Debbi Rawlins

  Nathan frowned. “Nope. She live around here?”

  Clint wished. “She’s an actress. Blonde. About five-eight. I just met her. You and Beth watch more movies than I do, so I figured you might’ve seen her in something.”

  “I can look her up,” Nathan said, straightening and reaching for his laptop.

  “Nah.” Hell, he should’ve thought of that himself. “She’s so far out of my league, it isn’t funny.”

  Even before seeing Nathan’s startled look, Clint regretted the stupid remark. What a dumb-ass thing to say. He’d just made idle curiosity sound like it was a big deal.

  Jesus.

  “Some jerk asked if I wanted to be in the movie. I wouldn’t have to say anything. Just stand next to a horse and look like a jackass.”

  Nathan grinned. “What did you say?”

  “What do you think?”

  Lucky for him, his brother’s phone rang.

  Clint stood. Perfect time to make an exit.

  Glancing at the cell, Nathan said, “Sit. It’s only Woody.”

  “I’ve got to go.” Clint glanced at his watch and started for the door. “We’ll talk another time.”

  “You sure you don’t wanna stay for some of Beth’s casserole? I guarantee she made plenty.”

  Clint laughed. “I heard leftovers are even better the next day,” he said on his way out of the office, grinning when he heard his brother curse.

  Despite Erin’s assurance, Clint figured he’d go see if the head wrangler had showed up. Although if he was being honest, he wanted to see Lila again.

  * * *

  THE SUN HADN’T dipped behind the Rockies yet, but the sky was overcast, which meant it would get dark early. Everyone was rushing to make use of the daylight and making more mistakes. It was just one of those days. Lots of small, annoying things had gone wrong, and everyone seemed to be on edge. The two bars in town would likely be hopping tonight.

  Lila wasn’t much of a drinker, but even she was considering a trip into town with everyone else. A beer shouldn’t cost too much.

  She watched an older man transfer his chew of tobacco from one cheek to the other, and managed not to cringe. Disgusting. In the three months she’d been working on location in cattle country, she’d grown used to many unfamiliar customs. But chewing tobacco? Yuck.

  The man was an extra, not an actor, but they were using him for several close-ups during the bar-fight scene. So Lila had been called to the set to make sure his fake injuries were consistent for each shot.

  Initially she’d been in charge of hair, and hadn’t done much makeup. But she’d been learning a lot, and she liked having the variety, so she never minded pitching in when they asked for her.

  “You need to make the scar longer,” Erin said, studying the photo and then the man’s jaw. “Bring it closer to his ear.”

  “I’m back.” Glenda, an intern, showed up to take over.

  “Let Lila finish the scar and then—” Erin glared at the man. “Would you stop chewing?”

  He stopped.

  Lila and Glenda exchanged private smiles. Erin was their hero. She was never mean or petty, but if someone wanted to be coddled, they’d better look elsewhere.

  Every film needed someone as smart and efficient as Erin. Especially a low-budget, indy project like this one. So much was riding on it for a lot of people—including her and Erin. The film’s success could make their careers. Or conversely, bankrupt them. The two of them were low-level investors, but it had taken every penny they’d saved, every favor owed them, and they’d even taken out small loans. Lila tried not to think about that too much. It made her queasy.

  She quickly went to work on the man’s scar, and just as she applied the finishing touch, Erin said, “Guess who’s back?”

  Lila’s pulse quickened. “Shut. The. Front. Door,” she said, staring at her friend. Erin’s teasing smile was a big hint. Had to be the cowboy Lila had been daydreaming about all afternoon. “Are you serious?”

  “As a heart attack. But don’t turn—” Erin sighed when Lila whipped around for a look.

  “Where?” A black truck parked near the corrals hadn’t been there ten minutes ago. No sign of Clint, though. “Is he—oh, crap,” she muttered when she caught sight of Baxter.

  Erin’s expression changed completely when she saw him hurrying toward them. “What do you want?”

  “That guy...Landers.” Baxter was out of breath. “He’s back.”

  “So?”

  “Jason wants to use him tomorrow.” Baxter was so clueless. Whatever it was he wanted, his haughty tone wasn’t going to win Erin over.

  “Need anything else, Erin?” Glenda asked, already backing away.

  “Nope. We’re good for now.”

  “You have to go talk to Landers,” Baxter said. “Jason insists that—”

  “Jason told you to do it. Lila, got a minute?” Erin started walking toward the set, and Lila went along with her.

  “Yeah, but—” Baxter’s face flushed.

  Erin stopped. “But what? Landers told you to take a hike?”

  Baxter’s defiant glare faded. “I don’t get why Jason has to have him.”

  “Well, that’s a problem. You should be getting it. You need to understand those small details if you want to—” Erin cut herself short. She blinked, thought a few seconds and tried to hold back a smile. “Ask Lila to do it.”

  Baxter’s mouth tightened. It was obvious he didn’t like that idea. Finally he turned to her. “Will you talk to Landers?”

  “Maybe.” Lila let him stew while she willed her pulse to slow down. “Okay, I’ll do it. But you’ll owe me.”

  Baxter had the nerve to look smug again.

  Lila jabbed a finger at him. “Owe me big. Got it?”

  Baxter grinned. “I’ll take you to dinner in Kalispell.”

  She could only stare at him. Clearly he was insane.

  “Oh.” A smile brightened Erin’s face. “Spencer’s here.”

  Lila turned and waved. She really liked Spencer, and was thrilled Erin had found love and the deep sense of contentment he’d provided in her life. Knowing that helped Lila ignore the occasional pang of jealousy. Over not having someone to share a pillow with at night. Or be there to listen to the highs and lows of her day. And she missed having Erin around all the time.

  “Do you mind if I leave?” Erin asked, watching her closely. “Have you got this?”

  Lila gave her a big smile. “Oh yeah.”

  “There he is,” Baxter said, peering in the direction of the corrals. “Landers.”

  “Big,” Lila reminded him as she walked backward. “And no dinner.” She turned toward Clint and hurried her pace when she saw him and Charlie shake hands.

  If he went for his truck, she’d head him off.

  She didn’t have to do anything but keep walking. The moment Clint saw her, he stopped.

  “Hey,” she said, wishing she’d changed her big sloppy sweatshirt for something nicer.

  “Hello again.”

  “I see you found Charlie.”

  Clint nodded. “Nice guy. Knows horses.”

  “That’s what I’ve heard. Me, I don’t know anything about... I saw your chestnuts.”

  He blinked, and it might have been a trick of the light, but his face darkened.

  “Um, geldings? Horses?”

  “Right. Sure.”

  “Did I say that wrong?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I knew exactly what you meant.” His gaze drifted toward the set. “You all work late every night?”

  “Only when we’re shooting a night scene.”

  Clint chuckled. “I’m sure I’ll have a few more dumb questions.”

  Lila smiled. She liked
having to tilt her head back to look at him. “You want to ask them over a beer?”

  He met her eyes. His jaw clenched.

  “Unless you need to get home for dinner,” she said quickly. “Your wife and kids might be waiting.” She paused long enough for him to deny it, but he didn’t. “I’m supposed to convince you to be in the movie. So, you know, it’s not personal or anything.”

  He actually looked disappointed. “That’s a shame,” he said, his mouth quirking upward. “Since I don’t have a wife or kids.”

  “No?” She cleared her throat. “Then how about that beer?”

  3

  THE FULL MOON SALOON had opened in July, but this was Clint’s first time in the place. He’d heard about the mechanical bull in the back and shouldn’t have been surprised by the small dance floor, since he knew a live band played Friday and Sunday nights. The only music now was something by Keith Urban coming from the jukebox.

  It wasn’t too crowded yet. Some guys were shooting pool in the back, and half the stools at the bar were occupied by local cowboys. Clint nodded at two men he recognized from the Circle K. They nodded back, but their eyes were on Lila. That was probably true for just about every guy in the room.

  “Table or bar?” he asked her, hoping she’d choose a table so they could have some privacy.

  “How about that one?” she said, gesturing toward a nice corner table.

  “After you.”

  She led the way, and he did his damnedest not to stare at her behind. Not that he could see much anyway. It looked like she’d worn the same jeans, but she’d traded the old sweatshirt he’d assumed went with whatever role she was playing, for another that was just as bulky.

  She pulled out a chair that had her facing the wall. “It’s going to get busy in here,” she said as she settled gracefully in her seat. “I saw two stuntmen playing pool. They won’t bother us, but you can bet someone from the crew will invite himself over eventually.”

  Clint took the chair across the table from her. Sitting with her back to the room wouldn’t matter. No man with eyes in his head would be able to pass her by without a second or third look.

  “I just realized something,” she said with a laugh. “This is a small town. It’s kind of like a big film crew where people think nothing of pulling up a chair whether you’re having a private conversation or not.”

  “Yep, that’s about the size of it.”

  “Shall we make a bet on whose people will interrupt us first?”

  “To be clear, the waitress doesn’t count, right?” He grinned at her puzzled expression.

  Lila turned just as Elaine got to their table.

  “Good Lord. Clint Landers.” The short brunette stuck a pencil behind her ear and put a hand on her hip. “How long has it been since I’ve laid eyes on you?”

  “It’s been a while.”

  “Not since Anne’s...” Elaine glanced at Lila and smiled.

  “I think you’re right,” Clint said, hoping to ease the sudden awkwardness. “It was at Anne’s funeral. Hard to believe it’s been four years.”

  Elaine nodded. “I’ve seen Nathan a few times. He looks good. I didn’t get to talk to him, though, so tell him I said hey.”

  “Will do.”

  “Well, what can I get you folks?”

  Lila surprised him once again by ordering a draft beer. He told Elaine to make it two, and was about to introduce the women when another customer called for Elaine.

  As soon as she left, Lila said, “Okay, I must have a serious misconception of a small town.”

  “You think we all know each other?”

  “Yes, that, too, but how can you go four years without seeing someone?”

  “Salina is a big county, and the ranches are all spread out. I don’t come to Blackfoot Falls all that much, and when I do it’s usually to pick up something at the hardware store. And since I live across the county line, I went to a different school than most of the folks around here.”

  “But you’ve lived in the area your whole life?”

  “Other than two years of college, yeah.”

  “Your family is still here?”

  Clint nodded and skipped the part that he still lived in the family home, sleeping in the same room he had as a kid. Sometimes it bothered him, even though it was a common practice with families who owned big ranches. But today the idea stuck in his craw.

  “Do you have brothers and sisters? Nieces and nephews?” she asked, and seemed genuinely interested. She wasn’t being nosy or making small talk.

  “Two brothers. Nathan is older than me. Seth is younger and a real pain in the butt.”

  Lila laughed. “I have one of those, too,” she said with a wistful sigh. “Oh, I guess Britney isn’t that bad. She started college this fall and is feeling overwhelmed by life in general. But we talk a lot.”

  “You miss her.”

  “Yes. I miss everybody—my parents and brother, his wife. They all live in California where I grew up. These last three months are the longest I’ve ever been away from them.”

  Clint could just stare at her all night. She had an expressive face and skin as fine as his mother’s bone china. Right now, that face was telling him he’d missed a cue.

  Shit.

  He cleared his throat. “I would think you travel a lot.”

  “Not really. And certainly not for this long. We’re behind schedule. I’m not sure what will happen at Christmas.”

  “You mean you won’t have the day off?”

  “Oh, we will. Thanks to the unions. But I don’t know that any of us are going to have enough time to make it home.” She shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal, and smiled at Elaine as she set down two foamy mugs.

  “I’ll start a tab for you folks, yes?” Elaine said.

  Clint was about to agree when Lila shook her head.

  She dug into her pocket. “What do I owe you?”

  “Elaine, I’ve got this.” He pulled out a twenty at the same time Lila produced a handful of crumpled bills.

  “I asked you to come, so my treat,” she said, busy trying to straighten her money. “In fact I’m going to make Baxter reimburse me.”

  Clint slipped Elaine the twenty, and she quietly left to make change.

  Lila looked up and twisted in her seat. “Where’d she go?”

  A group who had to be movie people had just entered the bar. The short stocky guy leading the pack spotted Lila right away.

  She acknowledged the hand he lifted, sighing as she turned back to face Clint. “I thought we’d have more time before the troops descended.”

  “You want to leave?”

  “No. Maybe they’ll play pool. But if they come over, then...”

  “I won’t have any trouble getting rid of them,” Clint said, and she gave him a peculiar smile. “If that’s what you want.”

  “Wait. Did Elaine take your money?”

  “Look, I’ll be honest with you.” He leaned forward. “I had to pay the check. Because I’m going to brag like hell that I had a date with a bona fide movie star, and it wouldn’t be a date if I didn’t pay, now would it?”

  Arching her brows, she laughed softly.

  “I won’t use your name if you don’t want me to.”

  “I can’t tell if you’re serious.”

  “I am.” Clint looked into her pretty blue eyes and had an almost uncontrollable urge to lean closer and kiss her. He was likely to clear the whole damn table trying, but he might be willing...

  “One problem.” She picked up her mug and took a tiny sip. “I’m not a movie star.”

  “What do you mean? You’re an actress, right?”

  “Yes and no.” Lila shrugged. “I’ve done shampoo commercials, and I’ve had tiny parts in
a few TV movies. But I do have a good shot at a decent role coming up.”

  Clint frowned. Something didn’t add up.

  “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  “I’m not...disappointed. Just confused.”

  “I’m part of the crew, working as a hairstylist. And I do some makeup, too. It’s a small independent movie and we’re operating on a shoestring, so our jobs tend to overlap.”

  “But acting isn’t one of yours?”

  “Not for this project. But I’ve wanted to be an actress since I was a kid. I even went to UCLA drama school.” She smiled with that same wistfulness he’d heard in her voice earlier. “Along with fifty million other wannabes. It’s a tough business to break into.”

  Clint opened his mouth, then realized he was about to say something totally stupid.

  “What?”

  He shook his head.

  “Come on, you’ve got me curious.”

  “I’ll just say that you look like a movie star. So you’ve already got that part down pat.”

  Lila laughed. “Well, thank you,” she said with a slight nod. “I’ll let my parents know you approve.”

  Clint ducked his head. He knew he should’ve kept his mouth shut.

  “No, don’t.” Lila reached across the table and touched his hand. “I wasn’t being snotty or sarcastic. I promise. It’s just—”

  He stared at her slim pale fingers resting on top of his big, rough ones, brown like leather from working in the hot sun. Her skin was soft, her touch so light it felt like a butterfly had landed on him. She withdrew her hand, and he looked up, wishing she hadn’t.

  “It’s just...” she began again. “In this business it’s important to keep things in perspective. My looks don’t define me. I can’t let them or I’ll end up—” Lila blushed. “Oh, jeez. I can’t believe I’m telling you all this stuff.” She took a hasty sip of beer and made a face. Coughed a little. Muttered something about sticking to iced tea. And coughed again.