“Right. It’s Spanish for rabbit,” Matthew explained, reaching for the lead line as he talked. “They named him that because he’s so jumpy, like a scared little bunny.”
“Luckily he doesn’t look that way onscreen,” Skye put in with a chuckle. “It wouldn’t look too good for the evil and scheming Nick Torrence to ride a wimp of a horse, eh, Matt?”
“You said it, buddy.” Matthew slapped the horse fondly on the neck. “On camera, all that nervous energy comes across as fiery spirit.” His face twisted suddenly into a dark scowl. The transformation was so immediate and extreme that Carole gasped involuntarily. “And that’s the way Nick Torrence likes his mount. Fiery.” He stalked away with the horse prancing cautiously behind him.
Carole turned to Skye, wide-eyed. “Wow,” she breathed.
Stevie nodded. “Talk about Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Or is it Dr. Hyde and Mr. Jekyll? I can never remember.”
Skye was grinning. “Matt takes his role as black-hearted bad guy pretty seriously.” He glanced over the girls’ heads in the direction of the director, who had finished his conversation with the guest star and was shouting out orders. “Oops, I’d better get over there. Enjoy the show, okay?” He led Topsy toward the director.
“Where should we go?” Carole glanced around uncertainly, feeling very much in the way. Everybody except her and Stevie seemed to have an important job to do.
Before Stevie could answer, Lisa came rushing toward them. “They’re about to get started. Come on, we can watch from over here.” She led the way to a quiet spot on a small, grassy hill off to one side with an unobstructed view of the action.
“Still think Nick Torrence is a major hunk, Carole?” Stevie whispered teasingly as the cast completed their first run-through of the scene.
Carole shuddered. “Believe me, I am so over him,” she declared, thinking back over the action they had just witnessed.
The scene had begun with Devon Drake and his love interest getting to know each other by the campfire. However, their blissful moment had been interrupted by Nick Torrence, who had started a rockslide on the boulder-studded slope behind the campfire. Carole had winced, her mind immediately flashing back to her earthquake dream. But she had been distracted from her fears by the exciting action that followed. The gallant Devon had reacted quickly to the disaster, shielding his lady love and pushing her to safety while being overcome by the shower of stones himself. As Nick Torrence cackled gleefully in the forest, Devon’s faithful friend Rand Hayden had happened by just in time to save the day by heroically dragging the unconscious Devon out of range of the battering hail of rocks.
At least that was how the scene would play out for viewers at home. In reality, it had been quite a bit slower and more complicated. The special-effects people had been the ones to set off the rockslide—Lisa assured her friends quietly that all the stones and boulders were made of papier-mâché or foam. There had been other breaks in the action, too. For instance, the makeup artists had had to rush in and add bruises and dirt to the actors’ faces and bodies. Despite all the pauses, though, the scene had sped by for the fascinated Virginia visitors.
“Anyway, who needs Nick Torrence when that gorgeous Rand Hayden is around?” Carole went on with a grin. She knew she was starting to sound like a starry-eyed teenybopper, but she didn’t care. She was in Hollywood—she was going to go with it. “He seems so noble and smart.”
“True.” Stevie nodded, clearly playing along and enjoying it. “Not like that conniving jerk Nick. Who needs that kind of trouble?”
Lisa gave her friends an uncertain glance. “You guys are just joking around, right? You know those guys are just acting. They’re not really like the characters they play.”
“Duh.” Stevie shrugged and looked thoughtful. “Still, you have to wonder a little. My guess is that only a real creep could play a real creep so well.”
“And only someone who’s earnest and sensitive in real life could be so convincing as Rand,” Carole went on, grasping Stevie’s point immediately. It made a lot of sense when she thought about it. The casting people probably sought out actors who were similar to the characters they were supposed to play. That would make things easier for everyone, especially the actors themselves.
“Hey, you promised to introduce us to everyone, but we haven’t met Jeremiah yet,” Stevie reminded Lisa. “I want to be able to tell everyone at school that he’s a close personal friend of mine. So how about it?”
Carole nodded eagerly. She had no plans to brag to people about her Hollywood experience, but she wanted to have plenty of stuff to look back on and daydream about during math class or marathon tack-cleaning sessions. “Come on, Lisa. It looks like they’re taking a break.” She gestured toward Jeremiah, who had handed his horse’s reins to Rick and was strolling toward the reporter and photographer from Star Struck.
“I don’t know if we should bother him right now.” Lisa looked reluctant. “Maybe later.”
“Forget later,” Stevie said. “We’re not planning to barge in on his interview, if that’s what you’re worried about. We can just hang out nearby and catch him when he’s done. It’ll only take a second.”
“Well, I don’t know.” Lisa glanced toward Jeremiah, who was giving the reporter a shy, humble smile as they chatted. “He’s probably got a lot on his mind right now, and we wouldn’t want to distract him or anything.”
Stevie gave her a searching look. What was the problem? Lisa had seemed eager enough to introduce them to just about everyone else on the set. Why not Jeremiah?
Maybe she wants him all to herself, a nasty little voice whispered inside her. Maybe it’s not Skye you should be worried about.
“Shut up, Alex,” she muttered aloud.
“What?” Carole glanced at her. “Did you say something?”
“I just said, it couldn’t hurt to go down there,” Stevie said quickly, waving a hand toward Jeremiah. “If he doesn’t want to talk to us, he doesn’t have to.” Without waiting for Lisa to reply, she started down the hill.
“I’m in love,” Carole declared melodramatically, almost dropping Conejo’s lead line as she clasped her heart. “Call out the preacher and rent me a hall. This is it.”
Stevie rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “I don’t know,” she teased. “I’d swear he winked at me. I don’t know how I’m going to break the news to Phil, though—maybe Jeremiah and I will name our firstborn son after him.”
“Very funny, guys,” Lisa said dryly as the three girls strolled toward the stable. The rehearsal had ended, and they were leading the tired horses back to their stalls. “You’d better watch out, Stevie, or I’ll have to tell Phil you were drooling all over yourself just because a good-looking guy smiled at you.”
Carole giggled. “Good. Then Phil will lock Stevie up in a tower somewhere, and Jeremiah will be all mine!” She felt a bit giddy. Jeremiah Jamison had been every bit as wonderful as the character he played. He had even excused himself from his conversation with the reporter to greet each of Lisa’s friends and kiss their hands gallantly.
“Whatever.” Lisa let out a snort. “Come on, let’s hurry and get these horses cleaned up. They have to be well rested for this afternoon’s shoot. I’ll meet you in the tack room in a few, okay?” She turned and led her horse down the aisle toward its stall.
“She’s so jaded,” Carole whispered to Stevie jokingly. “Come on. We’d better get these guys cleaned up.”
Stevie nodded agreeably. “I think they’re both in the last shed row, right? Good, we can cross-tie them outside their stalls and talk about you-know-who while we—Oh, hi, Summer.” The beautiful young actress had just appeared around the corner of one of the buildings in front of them.
“Hi.” Summer smiled shyly at them while stepping aside to let them pass with the horses.
Carole smiled back before returning to her previous topic of conversation. “Anyway, Stevie, as your friend I want to let you know that you’re insane if you think Jeremiah has any interest i
n you. As soon as we looked into each other’s eyes, I could tell—”
“Are you talking about Jeremiah Jamison?” Summer interrupted.
Carole glanced at her in surprise. She had forgotten that the actress was still within earshot. “Oh, uh—yeah,” she said, feeling embarrassed. Just because meeting Jeremiah had made her feel like a goofy, adoring kid didn’t mean she wanted other people to see her acting like one. “We’re just kidding around, though.”
“Oh, good.” Summer’s cheeks had turned pink and she looked flustered. “Um, I don’t want to intrude or anything. But Jeremiah, you know—well, I’m just glad. That’s all.” She lowered her head and hurried away, her big blue eyes blinking fast.
As soon as she was out of sight, Stevie let out a low whistle. “What was that all about?”
Carole shrugged, gazing in the direction Summer had gone. “Who knows? Lisa told us Summer’s always kind of emotional.”
Stevie nodded, remembering the sensitive star’s tantrum earlier that day. “I didn’t need any more convincing about that.”
The two girls got their horses moving again. Carole’s mind drifted back to Jeremiah, and she smiled dreamily. “Maybe she has a reason this time, though,” she joked. “Maybe she’s jealous because she thinks Jeremiah’s getting more attention than she is. I’ve read about these superstar Hollywood egos.”
“Maybe,” Stevie agreed. She tugged on Topsy’s lead as the gelding tried to stop and sniff at the ground along the path. “Or maybe she has some kind of unrequited crush on Jeremiah herself. Who could blame her for that?”
“They’d make quite a couple, wouldn’t they?” Carole paused and frowned. “Actually, now that I think about it, weren’t they a couple once? I thought I saw a story on TV a few months ago about Summer Kirke and her gorgeous new man. I didn’t know who Jeremiah Jamison was then, but it must have been him. Nobody else could be that good-looking.”
“You’ve got me.” Stevie shrugged. “Anyway, they don’t seem to have anything going right now, if they ever did.” She grinned wickedly. “And that means he’s all mine.”
Carole laughed and prepared to retaliate. This is great, she thought happily. Not only do we get to visit Lisa, but we get to have the total Hollywood experience, too—wild starstruck crush and all!
EIGHT
“Whew!” Carole paused, wiped her brow, and leaned on the pitchfork she was using to muck out Topsy’s stall. “Okay, I admit it,” she said to Stevie, who had just pushed a large wheelbarrow through the stall’s open door. “Maybe Lisa’s job really isn’t more exciting than mine.” At that moment, she saw Jeremiah walk past the stall, followed by the reporter from Star Struck magazine. “Well, not much more, anyway,” she amended with a grin.
Stevie pretended to fan her brow. “Is it hot in here, or is it just him?” she joked in a low voice.
Carole didn’t answer. She had just felt something, the slightest trembling movement beneath her feet. Another tremor? “D-Did you …” she began. Then she let her voice trail off, feeling like an idiot as a horse and rider trotted past on the path in front of the shed row. A moment after the horse—an enormous bay warmblood—had disappeared from sight, the trembling stopped. She sighed. “Okay, it’s official. I’m totally insane.”
“It looks good on you.” Stevie grabbed a shovel and started to fill the wheelbarrow with soiled straw.
“Thanks.” The two girls worked in companionable silence for a moment before Carole spoke again. “This is fun, isn’t it?”
Stevie paused in midscoop just long enough to shoot her a look of disbelief. “This?”
Carole giggled. “You know what I mean. This trip. Hanging out with Lisa again. Seeing fabulous Southern California.”
“I guess it has been pretty cool,” Stevie admitted. “But just for a visit. I could never, ever, in a million years live out here.”
“Even if Jeremiah asked you to?” Carole teased. Then, seeing the serious expression on Stevie’s face, she leaned on her pitchfork again and gave her a searching look. “What is it?”
Stevie gnawed on her lower lip for a second without answering. Then she shrugged. “Haven’t you wondered?” she said. “Haven’t you seen how crazy Lisa is about Lily, how much she likes working on this TV show, how she’s always talking about the great weather and the beach and the interesting people? And her dad’s here, and she gets along great with Evelyn—”
“Hold it.” Carole stood up straight. “You’re not saying what I think you’re saying, are you? Because if you are, you’re crazy. Lisa would never want to live in California full-time.”
“Are you sure about that? Because she seems to fit in here awfully well.”
Carole was already shaking her head. Her mind flashed back to her phone conversation with Lisa, but she shrugged off the thought. It was too ridiculous to think about. She couldn’t believe Stevie could ever consider it seriously, even for a second. “Lisa’s home is in Willow Creek,” she insisted. “That’s where her mother is. All her friends. Alex. Prancer. Max and Deborah and the kids. Us.”
Stevie looked stubborn. “Fine. You’re probably right. I hope you’re right. I also hope we get Lisa out of here before all this Hollywood glamour you keep talking about sucks her in for good and she forgets all about us and Alex and everything else in her real life.”
Carole shook her head. This was a bit melodramatic, even for Stevie. Still, she decided to let it slide. Stevie had had a tough few months. If she was feeling a little melodramatic, well, that was fine, just as long as it finally took her mind off the accident.
Trying to lighten the mood, Carole reached over and knocked twice on the wooden wall of the stall. “I hope we get her out, too. Actually, I just have one major hope right about now. That’s that all of us, Lisa included, get out of here before the Big One hits.” She grinned so that Stevie would see she was kidding—even if she wasn’t, not entirely. Then she leaned her pitchfork against the wall and surveyed the stall. “Looks like we’re about done. If you’ll take that load out to the pit, I’ll finish up here. Then I’m supposed to groom Conejo for his big scene later.”
“Okay.” Stevie picked up the handles of the wheelbarrow and pushed it out of the stall as Carole went to retrieve Topsy from his cross-ties in the aisle.
Stevie was smiling, still thinking about Carole’s new earthquake phobia as she headed down the shed row toward the manure pit hidden in a small grove of scrubby trees beyond the last building. Carole was always so together around Pine Hollow that it was sometimes easy to forget that she had weird fears and failings and worries and habits just like anyone else.
Me, for instance, Stevie reminded herself, her smile fading as she reached the deserted manure pit. She sighed as she upended the wheelbarrow. My problems may be miles away right now, but sometimes it doesn’t feel like it.
She had been making a real effort during this visit not to refer to the accident unless one of the others brought it up. Did they have any idea that it was still so much on her mind? True, she had managed to distract herself quite a bit, between enjoying the new sights and sounds and people in California and worrying that Lisa might end up staying here forever. But that didn’t mean she had entirely forgotten the reason she was here. This trip was supposed to help her forget about all that stuff back home, but that might be part of the problem. Deep in her heart, Stevie had the uncomfortable feeling that by coming here, she was trying to run away from her problems. And she had never been the kind of person to run away from anything.
Still, she had to admit that it was a relief to get some distance from it all—from Scott’s accusing stares, the reporters’ pesky questions, even her own family’s sympathy and understanding. Here at least she could relax and act normal again, even if she still didn’t feel entirely normal. And maybe if she acted it long enough she’d actually start to believe it.
All this talk about acting is making me think I should be the one to stay in Hollywood forever, not Lisa, Stevie joked to herself. F
or a split second, she felt as if that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Then she caught herself. What was she thinking? She had meant what she’d said to Carole before. This was a nice place for a brief vacation, but no way could it ever be a permanent home. Not for her, and not for Lisa, either.
I just hope Lisa feels the same way about that, Stevie thought. She started to push the wheelbarrow back in the direction of the stable buildings. Maybe it’s time to find out for sure. Maybe Carole and I should feel her out on the subject later when we get some time alone with her. Just in case.
“It’s okay, boy,” Carole crooned to the nervous horse. “You’ll like this. I promise.”
She held up the hoof pick she was holding. Conejo rolled his eyes at her nervously, backed away a step, then carefully stretched his neck forward to give the hoof pick a cautious sniff. He let out a snort.
“Come on, now. Don’t be shy.” Carole slowly moved the hand holding the hoof pick behind her back, then held her other hand in front of the gelding, palm up. “Give me a sniff so we can be friends. Then we can put you in some nice cross-ties and I’ll pick all the gunk out of your feet. How about that, hmmm?”
The horse still looked uncertain. Carole waited patiently, spending the time admiring the gelding’s glossy coat, his tousled but silky black mane, and the high, aristocratic crest of his perfectly proportioned neck. Now she understood perfectly what Matthew Reeves had told them earlier about Conejo’s personality. Standing here, it was clear to Carole that the big black gelding really was almost as timid as a bunny. But she could see that from a distance—or on a television screen—the horse’s tossing head, rolling eyes, and constantly shifting feet could make him look fiery enough even for a villain like Nick Torrence.
Nick Torrence. Matthew Reeves. How much did character and actor really have in common? Watching the run-through today, Carole had been certain that the only way the actor could be so convincing was if he had a big helping of pure nastiness in his own personality. But now that she thought more about it, she wondered if that was necessarily true. For one thing, Matthew had seemed pretty nice when he was chatting with them before the rehearsal started. For another thing, Carole had seen enough of Skye’s movies and shows to know that he could act a part that was completely different from his own personality.
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