“Thanks, but I ate a bagel.” Eden backed toward the doorway. “See you at lunch.”
She left the house through the back door and crossed the yard, careful to stay on the brick walkway to avoid the wet lawn. Thanks to the newly installed sprinkler system, the grass was greening up nicely and would look beautiful for the double wedding ceremony the following month. She drew in a deep breath of chilly morning air and paused beside the corral fence for just a moment to enjoy the sunrise coloring the eastern sky in vivid shades of pink.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
She spun around as Blake approached from the direction of the encampment, dressed once again in buckskins. “You startled me. Yes, it’s a gorgeous morning.”
“Almost as pretty as you.” He smiled down at her. “You’re out and about early today.”
“I’ve a lot to accomplish. What’s on your agenda?”
“We’re filming in the barn shortly. John’s rallying the crew now. Something about the shadows being perfect. We’re just waiting for Kara to get out of makeup.”
“In the barn? Really?” She rolled her eyes.
He leaned on the top rail and frowned. “What’s the problem?”
“I was planning to work in there. I’ve an order to finish this morning.” An annoyed sigh slipped out. “How am I supposed to concentrate with a big commotion going on a few yards away?”
“Learn to block out noise and focus. I perfected that skill in college since my roommates were a bunch of partiers.”
“Hannah was as quiet as I was, and neither of us partied much.” She waved a hand toward the empty prairie. “The whole state of Wyoming is pretty damn quiet. However, I’ll do my best to finish quickly, despite the distractions, and get outside. Why are you filming in the barn, anyway?”
“Big love scene between Kara and me. We’re rolling in the hay. Literally.”
“Isn’t that special.” Her irritation faded, only to be replaced by an emotion she couldn’t quite pinpoint. Some mixture of hurt and jealousy. The idea of Blake naked in the hay with a woman as gorgeous as Kara Fox made her chest ache. Not that she planned to sleep with the man again, but still…
“I’m not looking forward to it. I’ll probably end up with a rash from the hay.”
“That’s how you really feel?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Your Y chromosome doesn’t get a little excited about getting naked and wrapped up in Kara Fox?”
“We aren’t actually naked, for Christ’s sake. Well, she won’t have much on for part of the scene, but everything is very clinical with John shouting instructions between takes and a dozen people standing around. It’s hard not to think of it as just another day of work.”
“If you say so.”
“I do, but her husband isn’t too happy. The man looked ready to slit my throat when I passed him on the way to the food truck.”
“I can understand how he feels.” Her cheeks heated. “Or I would if we really were involved, which we aren’t.” Her voice rose. “I need to go. The sooner I wrap up that order and get outside with my horses, the better.”
He laid a hand on her arm. “Eden.”
“What?”
“If it were you instead of Kara, I’d tune out all the distractions, including the itchy hay, and just enjoy…probably a little too much since we’d have an audience. The fact that I don’t like Kara a whole hell of a lot actually makes shooting a scene like this easier.”
She gave him a wide-eyed glance but didn’t answer.
He stepped closer to drop a kiss on her upturned lips. “Go finish your belts or purse or whatever. I’ll find you later, and we’ll discuss that horseback tour of the ranch you still owe me.”
“What?” Her voice was breathless.
“You haven’t forgotten our bet, have you?” He smiled. “Me on that damn Appaloosa, getting bucked off…but not until after I lasted sixteen whole seconds.”
“Actually, I had forgotten. Maybe later this week. My schedule today is pretty tight.”
“I can wait.” He eyed her up and down. “I have a lot of patience when I want something.”
With a nod, she hurried away, determined to get to work, only slowing when she noticed Zane standing near the side door. Taking a deep breath, she did her best to calm her clamoring nerves. “Morning, Zane.”
His lips pinched tight. “Why don’t you two get a room? Or go back to the one you just left.”
She clamped her teeth together and brushed past him, but he grabbed her arm to halt her progress.
“Is that what you want, a fling with a guy as fake as Benedict?” When she didn’t answer, he shrugged. “Fine, get it out of your system. Maybe then you’ll be ready to settle down with a man who’s actually right for you.”
“Let go of me, please.” She kept her voice cool when all she wanted to do was scream like a banshee. “I have work to do.”
He dropped her arm. “Do you plan to watch your lover make out with another woman? I hear that’s what’s going on in the barn this morning. Maybe afterward, you’ll be able to appreciate how I feel.”
Before she could respond, he walked away. Eden let out a ragged breath and mouthed an obscenity. With a trembling hand, she pushed open the barn door then paused to simply breathe. If she didn’t get her anger under control, there was no way she’d be able to finish the detail work on the belts. When her hands stopped shaking, she crossed the barn floor to her work area in the back.
The door to the room Pris was using was shut.
Thank God for small favors. She wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone. Taking a seat at her table, she laid the first belt across the surface and sorted through her tools.
“He won’t stay with you, you know.”
The chisel clattered to the wood floor and rolled under her chair. Eden pressed a hand to her chest then glanced up to meet Pris’s matter-of-fact gaze.
“What are you talking about?”
“Blake, of course. I got up early, took a walk and saw the two of you talking by the fence. He may be interested in you now, but it won’t last. It never does. Eventually, you’ll get your heart broken.”
“Our relationship isn’t serious.”
Pris smiled. “You seem nicer than most of the women he’s dated…at least based on what I’ve read in the tabloids. I just thought I’d warn you in advance.”
Did I wake up in some alternate universe? Eden rubbed the back of her neck where it threatened to launch a tension headache. First Zane’s insults, and now advice from Pris?
“I won’t get hurt because Blake and I are just friends.”
“Great. There won’t be a problem, then.” With a nod, the other woman turned and walked away. The door to her room thumped shut.
A crazy laugh bubbled up in Eden’s throat, and she clamped a hand over her mouth.
If I click my heels together three times, will I wake up in my own bed, ready to start the day over?
At this point, anything was worth a try.
Chapter 9
Blake rolled in the hay with Kara and did his best to ignore the prickly straw sticking to his bare back. Taking his time, he unlaced her suede dress to expose the soft slope of her breasts. Keeping in mind the PG-13 rating of the movie, he stopped just short of uncovering her nipples. Her moan in response told him she was either enjoying the kisses he placed along the side of her neck, or she was one hell of an actress.
Probably best if I focus on my part and don’t speculate.
Wrapping her tight in his arms, he rolled to his back…then let out a yell as pain ripped through him when something pierced his thigh.
“Cut! What the hell’s wrong, Blake?”
Ignoring the director, he pushed Kara off him and ran a hand down the leg of his pants to a hole torn in the fabric. He drew his fingers back covered in blood. “Shit! My thigh’s sliced open.”
“What?” Stafford waved an arm. “Get the medic in here now!”
One of the cameramen handed him a T-shirt, and he pressed it against the wound. Feeling a little lightheaded, he lay back down with the wadded cloth clamped to the back of his thigh.
“How the hell did you cut yourself?”
Blake didn’t bother opening his eyes when the director hovered over him. “I’ve no idea.”
“Must have been on this. It’s sharp, and there’s blood on the edge.”
He lifted one lid to peer at the metal object Kara held. “Damn, no wonder I’m bleeding.”
“What’s going on? Hey, that’s one of my chisels.”
With an effort, Blake opened both eyes and pushed to a sitting position as Eden hurried toward him. She brushed past the director and knelt in the hay. “Are you okay?”
“I may need stitches, but I don’t think they’ll have to amputate.”
Her lips twitched. “Good to know. How’d my chisel get out here?”
“Excellent question.” John ran a hand through his hair. “Damn, this is going to screw up my schedule.” He glanced around, brows lowered in a frown behind his glasses. “Where’s that medic?”
The barn door opened, and the middle-aged EMT whose name Blake couldn’t recall crossed the floor to his side.
“Everyone clear out of my way.” The woman eyed him for a moment. “You look a little pale. Roll onto your stomach, and let’s see what we have here.”
He did as she asked but turned his face to keep an eye on Eden, who hadn’t moved far. She stared back at him with worry shadowing her eyes.
Behind him, the door slammed against the wall, and footsteps pounded across the wood floor. Before he could glance up, Pris burst through the onlookers and crouched next to him.
“Oh, my God, you’re bleeding all over. What happened?”
He grunted as the EMT probed. “Apparently I stabbed myself on one of Eden’s chisels.”
“Young lady, move back.” After Pris inched away, the medic regarded Blake steadily. “You’ll need a few stitches. I’ll pack the wound, and then someone will have to transport you to the clinic in Cody.”
“Blake’s going to be fine, isn’t he?” Stafford pressed in closer.
The EMT glanced up at the director and nodded. “The blade cut into muscle but luckily didn’t nick any tendons or arteries. In my opinion, he’ll be sore for a while but should heal completely.”
“That’s a relief.” John kicked some hay. “Damn it, can’t you just stitch him up here? We have a schedule to stick to.”
The medic shook her head. “Sorry, but I won’t risk infection. I’m here strictly as a first line of defense. Not to mention Mr. Benedict will undoubtedly want someone who can minimize scarring.”
“Well, hell.” John’s voice was filled with annoyance. “Maybe we can push up the scene with the herd of buffalo. The truck hauling the domestic bison is scheduled to arrive before noon. If we shoot that one today, Max can double for you. We won’t get too far behind since we’ll obviously have to reschedule this barn scene.”
“Do what you need to do. I’m not in any position to argue.” Blake’s thigh throbbed, and he drew in a shallow breath. “Can I have an aspirin or something?”
“You poor thing.” Pris edged closer. “I can drive you to the clinic, Blake.”
“I’ll take him.” Eden spoke quickly then bent to lay a hand on his shoulder. “As soon as the medic bandages you up, a couple of the cameramen can help you out to my SUV. You’ll have room to stretch out on the backseat.”
“Sounds good. Thanks, Eden.”
“Are you sure that’s such a great idea?” Pris’s voice rose. “After all, it was her chisel that cut you.”
Eden drew in a sharp breath. “You think it’s my fault Blake was hurt?”
“I’m just saying—”
“My injury was nothing but a freak accident.” Blake winced as the EMT ripped his pant leg and placed a gauze pad over the cut.
“But—”
He glanced over at Pris. “No buts.”
The medic wrapped tape around his thigh to hold the bandage in place. Whoever removed it was going to pull all the hair off his leg. Perfect.
“That should keep the bleeding to a minimum until a doctor can stitch you up. Are you allergic to any medication, Mr. Benedict?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Good.” She dug through her medical bag then held out two white tablets and a bottle of water. “This is for the pain. Can someone give Mr. Benedict a hand out of the barn?”
Blake rolled over and sat up then took the pills and swallowed them with half the water. “I can walk.”
“I’m sure you can, but I don’t want you to put any pressure on that leg.” She pointed at Mike, one of the grips who looked like he could bench-press a side of beef. “You, help him up.”
Mike complied, along with one of the cameramen, and Blake hobbled out to Eden’s SUV, followed by half the crew and Pris. When Eden opened the door, he carefully eased onto the backseat. “I’m going to need my wallet and some clothes to change into.”
“I’ll get them.” Pris ran off toward his bus.
Eden smiled down at him. “I’ll grab my purse and be right back.”
Blake stretched out his injured leg, trying to ignore the burning pain, and hoped the meds would kick in shortly. When the car door creaked open a couple of minutes later, he glanced up. Eden slid behind the wheel and tossed her leather purse and a package wrapped in brown paper on the passenger seat.
“Pris not back yet with your things?”
He shifted to find a more comfortable position. “Not yet.”
Eden’s sympathetic gaze met his. “You look miserable. I feel awful about this whole nightmare.”
“Why? You didn’t stab me.”
“No, but Pris was right. My chisel did the damage. I don’t understand how it wound up on the barn floor under the hay.”
“Neither do I. Kara’s lucky she wasn’t the one who got cut.”
Eden’s gaze slid past him. “Here comes Pris now.”
A few seconds later she opened the passenger door and frowned at Eden. “Uh, if you’ll move your stuff, I can get in.”
Blake straightened. “You don’t need to come with us.”
Pris bent to peer into the backseat. “Of course I will. If I stay here, I’ll just worry about you the whole time.”
“You heard the medic. I’m going to be fine, and you’ll be bored out of your mind sitting in a doctor’s office. Who knows how long I’ll have to wait for them to stitch me up.”
“I don’t mind, really, and I can keep you company.”
He let out a sigh. “I don’t want company. I just want to sit here with my eyes closed and rest. Thanks for the offer, but I’d rather you stayed here and enjoyed your day. Take one of the horses and go for a ride or something.” He met Eden’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “That’s okay, isn’t it?”
“Sure. Bramble and Flint are for pleasure riding. One of the hands will help you with the saddle if you ask. Everything you need is in the tack room.”
“But—”
“Go have some fun, Pris.” He leaned back and closed his eyes then prayed she’d go away.
“All right, if that’s how you feel…” She let out a sigh. “Clothes and your wallet are in here.”
He opened his eyes when she set a tote bag on the passenger seat next to Eden’s package. “Thanks, Pris. I’ll see you later.”
“Okay. Bye, Blake.” She slammed the door shut.
“Oh, thank God.”
Eden smiled at him in the rearview mirror before starting the engine. She backed up then pulled around in a circle. Gravel crunched beneath the tires as they drove under the arch and onto the access road.
“I promise not to talk so you can rest.”
“You can talk. I just didn’t want to listen to Pris for the next few hours.” He s
ighed. “My leg hurts like hell, and I’m not up to being polite. With you, I feel like I can bitch and moan all I want, and you won’t smother me with attention.”
“Bitch away. I don’t mind in the least, and I’ll keep any smothering instincts to myself.”
He grinned. “See what I mean. You’re comfortable to be around.”
“Kind of like an old slipper.” She steered left to avoid a pothole. “I am, however, completely bothered by the fact that you got stabbed. Jesus, if that blade had dug into an artery, you could have bled out.”
“Pretty unlikely, but I’m not exactly thrilled to have a gash in my leg. I expect I’ll be sore for quite a while.”
She glanced back at him through the mirror. “Are you still in pain?”
“The meds seem to have kicked in. The wound isn’t aching like it was.”
“Good. Just relax, then.” She flipped on the radio, and a Garth Brooks tune filled the silence.
“I could get used to this.”
She turned down the radio. “To what?”
He waved a hand toward the rolling prairie on either side of the road. “This. Vast open spaces and endless quiet. Everything in my world is loud and complicated. Maybe I should quit my job and hire on as one of your ranch hands.”
She laughed out loud. “That would be something. Blake Benedict…cowboy. Don’t you love your work?”
“Of course. Immersing myself in a character is always both challenging and rewarding, but I could do without all the Hollywood hoopla.” He shrugged. “I enjoyed it at first. But after ten years in the business, I’ve had it with the lack of privacy and public expectation. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate my fans, but—”
“You aren’t able to simply turn off the job and go home when you’re finished acting for the day.”
“Exactly. I can’t do something as simple as stopping by the store or running on the beach without it becoming a major production. Whenever possible, I live in hats and dark glasses to avoid being recognized.” He pointed out the window as they turned onto a highway devoid of traffic. “Here, there’s no one around to ask for my autograph. There’re no paparazzi waiting to snap a photo of me talking to some poor, unsuspecting woman so they can blow it up into the next sensational headline.”
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