by Kim Redford
“Maybe this is more than you bargained for, what with the security and all.” She heard her voice waver and straightened her spine. She was strong enough to go on alone. That’d been her plan from the get-go. “I mean, if you’re too busy—”
“Stop right there. I’m never too busy for you—unless you’re trying to get rid of me. Besides, I already talked with Kent, and he’s on board with me helping you.”
“Oh, okay. I just want to give you a chance to back out now, if you want to before we go on.”
He gave her a dangerous-to-your-heart look with his blue eyes. “I’m all in—for the long haul.”
“Thanks.” She didn’t know if she should feel relieved or disturbed by his agreement. He was fast becoming a fierce wind blowing apart her carefully controlled world. And yet she felt her resistance slipping away, or maybe she was tossing it away in a bid for freedom.
“You ready to get started with the tour?” he asked, giving her a grin that was part challenge, part encouragement.
“Right this way.” She smiled back, then turned and walked up the wide swathe of pale cement with its dark runners of old cracks.
She couldn’t help but wonder how many cars—and how many styles and colors over the years—had passed through here on their way to entertainment and pleasure. She bet Mr. Werner and Celeste had even spent a few memorable evenings right here. She was proud to be part of the restoration and renewal of such a vital part of America’s love affair with automobiles and movies.
When Dune joined her, she pointed up at the screen that was constructed in three connected sections. In the middle one, “Sure-Shot Drive-in” was painted on a white background in large forest-green Western-style letters accented by neon that would glow brightly after dark. They’d hung Christmas decorations of blue stars above Santa in his sleigh pulled by reindeer, with Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer’s neon, crimson nose leading the way.
A loudspeaker was mounted on top of the screen, while at the bottom, a red-and-white marquee listed “Saturday. Christmas at the Sure-Shot Drive-In. Classic Holiday Films.”
The other two sections of the big screen were set back from the center and braced with tall, white, metal struts for extra support. A small ticket booth painted white with green trim nestled in front of the right section near the entry lane. A vintage, green metal chair waited for the ticket-taker under a small green awning attached to the booth.
“So we’re going to walk into the drive-in?” Dune asked as he caught up with her.
She chuckled as she glanced over at him. “You just want to drive my pretty Caddy, don’t you?”
“Never crossed my mind,” he teased as he caught her hand, twined their fingers together, then swung their arms back and forth as they walked past the ticket booth. “Do you feel like a teenager again?”
“We keep this up and I just might.” She laughed out loud as she enjoyed the feel of his strong, warm fingers clasping her hand. She glanced up at him and was caught by the hot gleam in his eyes. Suddenly she did feel young—almost innocent—with an excited knot in the pit of her stomach as if she were on her first date with a cute guy.
She stopped in her tracks, jerked her hand free, and stepped away, rubbing her tummy in comforting circles. How could she be so disloyal to Emery? Twenty-nine wasn’t young. And she was certainly no innocent. She needed to remember her priorities. Storm came first in her life, and then her family and ranch. She ought not to be acting giddy as if she were a teenager out to have fun.
“Sydney?” Dune asked. “Did I say something to upset you?”
She took a deep breath, knowing she had to be smart, practical, and business-oriented. “I think we’d better get back on track.”
“That’s what I was doing.” He grinned mischievously. “I was getting us into a drive-in kind of mood.”
She couldn’t help but laugh at his clever squirming out of holding her hand just because he wanted to do it. “For that, I think we need Celeste.”
“She’s got a big back seat, doesn’t she?”
“Football field size.”
“That sounds about right for what I’ve got in mind.”
“And just what do you have in mind?” She was onto his teasing game, and she’d let him dig a deep hole and watch him try to get out of it. But he’d set her heart to beating faster at the thought of being in the back seat with him.
“I figure we could raid the snack shop and spread out our goodies while we watched The Thing from Another World or some such classic.”
“Is that the film with James Arness as some creature?”
“I see you’re a lady of discerning taste. He was totally memorable as the vegetable man from Mars.”
She laughed, noticing for the first time that Dune could be funny as well as everything else that upped her interest. “Discerning? I’m not sure that movie even rates a B.”
“But it helped start Arness’s acting career that led to about a million years on TV starring as Matt Dillon in Gunsmoke. I figure they cast him as the vegetable man because of his size. He was six seven.”
“I didn’t know you were a film buff.”
“I’ve seen a few,” Dune said in a voice gone serious. He glanced to the side, as if drawing a curtain over the window of his eyes to shutter his expression or suppress a memory. “Fact of the matter, I’ve worked as a professional firefighter. Sometimes movies can fill the downtime and help with the stress.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” He gave a rueful chuckle. “I’ve been a firefighter. I’ve been a cowboy. I guess now I’m a cowboy firefighter.”
She chuckled at his attempt to lighten the mood. “I imagine you’re good at it all.”
“I do my best.” He took a deep breath as he pointed past the big screen. “Come one. Let’s take a look.”
She wanted to push, to ask more, to get to know him better, but she respected personal privacy. In time, he’d tell her what he wanted her to know about him. Until then, she’d already learned a lot. She hadn’t meant to do it, but she was starting to see Dune as a three-dimensional man instead of a one-dimensional cowboy.
She felt as if a lightbulb had gone off in her head. Maybe that was just the quality that she needed to give her calendar an extra oomph. She grabbed Dune’s hand in excitement.
He looked at her in surprise. “I thought we were through holding hands.”
She squeezed his fingers, then let go. “I’ve just had a great idea.”
“What?”
“For the calendar, we’ll make each month special by describing what our volunteers do in their regular lives or something that makes them unique. We’ll put names and personalities with the photos. What do you think?” She glanced up just in time to see Dune look a little sick.
“No,” he said, shaking his head.
“No?”
“I don’t want my name and past splashed over a calendar that’ll sell everywhere. I doubt anybody else will either.”
“I guess we don’t have to go there. It was just an idea. I don’t want to annoy our cowboy firefighters more than they already seem to be over posing for the calendar. I can’t seem to make them understand that it’s for a worthy cause.” She wasn’t ready to give up on her concept yet, but now didn’t seem to be a good time to pursue it. She gave Dune a closer look, realizing there was something going on with him that he was keeping from her. A deep, dark secret? She couldn’t imagine. He appeared to be such a straight-up guy. But then, she didn’t know him very well yet, so maybe she should be less trusting or maybe just more concerned that there was something in his past that bothered him.
“They understand the cause, all right. If you keep after them, they may all leave the county till it’s safe to come home again.”
She chuckled at his words, tossing her head. “They may as well get used to the idea. With you helping me, we�
�ll get them in line one way or another.”
“I wouldn’t count that chicken before it’s hatched.”
“Oh yes, I will. And soon.”
“Come on.” He clasped her hand again. “Let’s see if they’ve stocked the snack shed.”
This time, she let him hold her hand, appreciating the distraction from her worries, appreciating his help, and simply appreciating him. “If it is, let’s pick the most fun food there.”
“I’ll spring for it.”
“Thanks. You’re way too good to me.” She laughed, teasing him as she felt lighthearted again.
He chuckled with her as he squeezed her hand. “I’ll even leave cash in the till for Bert.”
“Too bad there won’t be fresh popcorn. How about chocolate mints?”
“Not bad. Giant dill pickle.”
“Peanut butter cups.”
“I think we can do better. Let’s go take a look.”
“You’re on, pardner.”
He stopped and fixed her with eyes the color of a deep, dark-blue pond in winter just waiting for an early spring thaw. “Yeah. I like the sound of that. Partners.”
Chapter 6
Sydney tried to control her response to Dune, even as she felt sudden heat singe her. Partners. If he hadn’t used just that tone of voice or just that emphasis or even just that twist to suggest so much more than a working relationship, she’d be fine. Instead, she was obviously becoming so attuned to him that she got the nuances in his voice.
She wanted to be clueless, but she wasn’t. He’d been flirting with her for months. Still, that was vintage Texas guys and gals. They were born—or raised—with the flirt gene in ascendancy. But it could mean almost anything, from lifting sagging spirits to “hey, let’s rent a room.” In this instance, she was left with no doubt that Dune sincerely meant the latter. Even more, she was moving toward taking him up on his unspoken offer—or at least, her body was headed fast in that direction. Only smarts would keep her from leaping off that dangerous cliff and throwing caution to the wind. She had to remember what was important in life, and that was her commitments, responsibilities, and promises. All those had been made before Dune entered her life, and they’d be with her long after he exited her life.
“Maybe I should’ve asked if you’re hungry,” Dune said, cocking his head in inquiry.
She came back to reality at the sound of his voice. “Just wool-gathering.”
“There’s a lot to think about, but we’ll think even better with the inspiration of snack food.”
“So true.” She breathed a sigh of relief at being drawn away from her thoughts. Maybe she was overthinking the situation. In any case, she needed to focus on the issue at hand.
“I’ll tell you one thing for sure.” He stopped by the side of the big screen. “Clean-up alone made a huge difference out here. I saw the overgrown weeds, blown-in trash, and general disrepair when the Holloways first bought the property.”
“That’s Moore Chatham’s doing, isn’t it?”
“Yep.” Dune kicked aside a stray rock with the toe of his boot. “After Moore set the old Sinclair station on fire, I’d never have dreamed he’d turn his life around so fast.”
She nodded in agreement. “But Sheriff Calhoun saw frustration instead of meanness in Moore’s actions and gave him a second chance.”
“I have to admit Moore’s willingness to work surprised me,” Dune added thoughtfully. “And he turned out to be a right smart handyman. He did a lot of the work turning the gas station into the beauty station, didn’t he?”
“Sure did. I knew you’d be impressed, so I slowed down so you could take a gander at it.” She stopped beside Dune, following his line of sight upward. “I think Moore was inspired by Serena Simmons, besides being sweet on her.”
Dune chuckled as he glanced at Sydney. “Sounds as if she’s a chip off the old block. Isn’t her mom one of the best horse breeders and trainers around here?”
“Right. I don’t know what we’d do without Billye Jo’s support for our Sure-Shot Christmas event. She’s providing some horses, and Serena is grooming them. You know folks can take their horses to the back of the beauty station to have their manes and tails plaited, don’t you?”
“I hadn’t heard it. Folks in Sure-Shot definitely have a strong can-do attitude.”
Sydney nodded in agreement. “Once Serena got that cosmetology degree in her hot little hands, she didn’t let any grass grow under her feet.” She smiled mischievously. “Come on. Let’s take a look. You’ve lollygagged long enough.”
“Me?” He spread his hands wide in denial, grinning at her. “You’re the one giving the tour.”
She chuckled, knowing he knew she’d intentionally reversed the situation just to needle him and hear his protest. Any Texas cowgirl worth her salt couldn’t let a cowboy get the upper hand for long, particularly when he was sidling in too close for comfort.
She quickly walked around the side of the big screen and then gestured at the entire area for Dune’s benefit.
“Wow.” He stopped beside her and looked around, clearly impressed with the transformation.
“It’s really great, isn’t it?”
“I’d hire Moore any time. Pretty quick, he’s going to have more work than he can shake a stick at.”
“I bet.” Sydney pointed toward the big screen. “You know, at the height of their popularity, there were something like four thousand drive-ins across the country.”
Dune quirked an eyebrow at her. “I wonder how many working ones are left now.”
She sighed, thinking about it. “Do you suppose there are even a hundred still drawing customers?”
“Maybe not that many.”
“Seems a shame.”
“That’s life—and technology. Folks are home watching big screens and controlling what they see.”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “But it doesn’t have the same hometown charm.”
“Worse yet,” he said with a sly grin and a teasing glint in his eyes, “guys don’t get a chance to check out the hot babes in the snack shed.”
She shook her head, chuckling. “I bet there was a lot of that going on both sides of the aisle.”
He gestured ahead of them. “You know this was called the Passion Pit back in the day, don’t you?”
She stopped in her tracks and stared at him in surprise. “Where did you hear such a thing?”
He shrugged, grinning bigger. “Morning Glory. And Bert.”
Sydney thought a moment, then nodded in acknowledgment. “I guess if anybody’d know, they’d be the ones. But Hedy’d know, too. I might ask her when I see her at the station later.”
“She’ll either be there taking care of business or over at her store. She’s sure been a firecracker since Lauren got her out of that wheelchair and on the back of a horse again.”
“Night and day.” Sydney smiled in remembered pleasure. “Who knew horse-assisted therapy could work such wonders?”
“Guess we all do now.”
She glanced at a small stand-alone white sign with black letters on the right side of the entrance lane beside the white fence that read “RADIO SOUND,” with the call number of an FM radio station. She knew sound, music, and announcements had once been piped through speakers attached to car windows, but now folks had this new option to listen using their own car stereo.
As she walked with Dune down the single-entry lane, they passed a long, high, board-on-board white fence on either side of the road. One section ran from the edge of the screen inside the drive-in while the other section extended along the outer perimeter to keep folks outside from seeing inside. She doubted if anybody could see much considering the location at the end of the road, but Bert and Bert Two had made a point of retaining the original design of the drive-in.
When she came to the end of the inside fen
ce, the drive-in opened up like a huge asphalt amphitheater. At the end of each curved row, a large, long red arrow on the white background of a rectangular box on top of a white metal pole would light up at night to show drivers where to turn and park. Silver metal poles with dark gray metal speakers on top—one on each side of a pole—that could be hooked to vehicle windows sprang up along each row with just enough room for cars between them. Each row was elevated on one side so that the front ends of vehicles were at a good viewing angle.
She glanced toward the entrance, where the white screen—put together in rectangular sections—rose upward to dominate the deep blue sky. A large, flat platform painted gray held the screen high above the vehicle area. A long row of neatly trimmed green bushes fronted the base along with a wide lawn of dried golden grass in front.
“I’m so excited by the transformation. What do you think?” She turned toward Dune to get his reaction.
“I think we’ve stepped back in time.” He pointed toward the screen. “I wonder why there’s that row of bushes and bit of turf?”
“Original stuff. Maybe it was a play area for kids or simply made the drive-in nicer for folks.”
“I like it.”
“I heard Hedy and Morning Glory say they used to ride their horses here and let them graze on the grass while they watched a movie. But that could be a tall tale.”
He chuckled, nodding. “I wouldn’t be a bit surprised at their antics.”
“Me either.” She turned away from the screen and pointed toward the center of the drive-in. “What do you think of the snack shed?”
“If it’s got snacks, I like it.”
“I mean its design.” Maybe the building wasn’t too spectacular by current standards, but it was a classic Midcentury Modern design that had an almost flat roof with a wide overhang and white shingles for siding. An inset doorway obviously led to the interior of the snack shed. She loved the fact that folks could lounge in shiny green, blue, red, or yellow vintage metal lawn chairs on a cement patio surrounded by a silver metal pipe fence. Loudspeakers were tucked up under the eaves to broadcast movie soundtracks and announcements, along with silver double-cone bow-tie outdoor lights.