She almost laughed and shook her head. Who would’ve thought that she would be trying to talk Chandler into not working so hard? She hardly thought that anyone in town would believe that. Maybe she didn’t spend a lot of time there, but she knew his reputation.
“What are you smiling about?” he asked.
She turned her head toward his and looked across the three feet that separated them. She hadn’t realized that he was looking at her.
She twisted her head back, looking at the clouds, and said the first thing that came to her mind. “Do you think that cloud looks like a gorilla?”
His head turned back up toward the clouds, but he grunted, almost like he didn’t understand or didn’t believe her.
But then he kind of chuckled. “Yeah. It actually does. You can see the arms hanging down the sides.”
She smiled. “You sound surprised. You’ve never looked at the clouds before? Or did you think I made it up?”
“Both.”
“You’re kidding? You’ve never lain on the ground and looked at the clouds?”
“Nope. Admired the clouds in the sky. But I guess it just never occurred to me to lie down and look at them.”
“Sometimes I like to bet myself on how long it’ll take a cloud to roll across the sky. And I love to see how they change as they go. Something that looks like a gorilla now might look more like a house by the time it disappears into the horizon.”
“I would never have guessed you for someone who wastes time looking at the clouds. I thought you are all about working all the time.”
“No. Not all the time. Everybody has to take a break.”
“The lady has changed her tune since last week.”
“The man is being a little nicer to me than he was last week.”
“Ouch.” He shifted, but she didn’t look at him. “Is it overkill if I apologize again?”
“No.” She allowed herself a smirky little grin, thinking that maybe he wouldn’t take it wrong when she looked at him. “You can apologize every day for the next twenty-three days, and it won’t be overkill.”
“I think your expectations are a little high.”
“I think you can step up.”
“You’re the one that’s mean to me.” He held his hands up. “Look at my hands. That’s mean.”
“Oh, no, you don’t! You can’t blame that on me. You’re the idiot that didn’t stop. And I told you I didn’t want you working today. You wouldn’t listen. So no, no, and no.”
“It was worth a try.” His hands fell back to the blanket.
For the next fifteen or so minutes, they pointed at the clouds, talking about them some. And each time, the silence lasted longer and longer between them, until after about twenty minutes, he didn’t say anything for a long time. Then she heard a faint snore and smiled to herself.
It worked.
Now what in the world was she going to do? She supposed she could lie on the blanket and look at the clouds. But she wasn’t sleepy.
She had to congratulate herself on a good job, though.
Why had she cared? Why had it mattered whether or not he took a rest and took care of his hands?
She wanted to say it was just because she was a good person and didn’t want to see him hurt any more than what he already was, especially since he was working for her. That was probably true.
But she also thought there might be a little bit more to the situation.
More about herself that she didn’t want to face.
Chapter 12
The next morning, Chandler was still slightly shocked that Ivory had been able to so completely get him to stop digging the fence post holes.
He had to admit, as they left the house after breakfast, it actually made him feel pretty good. Almost like she cared about him.
Of course he wasn’t entirely certain, because she wouldn’t admit it, but he was pretty sure that she lay down on the blanket and made up that baloney about the clouds just to see if she could get him to fall asleep, and then when he’d woken up midafternoon, she’d said she needed help moving a bale in the barn before she fed.
He never had come back to the fence other than to get his tools and put them away for the night.
Now today, she was asking him to take a look at her tractor since she was going to be using it to bale hay soon. He suspected this was another ploy to keep him from using his hands on the fence, but again, he didn’t ask.
“What did you say was wrong with it again?” Fixing machinery wasn’t exactly his best area, although he’d done it growing up. What farmer hadn’t? Something was always breaking down.
“I’m not sure exactly, but maybe you can just go over it and make sure everything is running correctly.”
“It’s always helpful to have an idea of what one is looking for when one is trying to fix something.” She couldn’t see his skeptical look, since she was walking in front of him, but surely she could hear it in his tone.
He followed her down the path, his eyes on her bulky sweatshirt and the gentle sway of her skirt around her ankles. Her leg must still be hurting her, since she was still wearing a skirt. She hadn’t complained.
She walked with confidence, and he just couldn’t bring himself to ask if this was her way of getting him out of using his hands. They did hurt.
As long as he kept his hands still, they were fine, but the idea of gripping the post hole digger and pounding it into the ground made his back muscles tighten painfully and twitch simply from anticipating how badly his hands were going to hurt.
Whether it was a ploy, or whether she really needed help with the tractor, he was going to go along with it.
They reached the barn, and she slid the door open, leaving it open, probably for the light, after they walked through.
“We could probably start with changing the oil. I have the filters and everything here. I was just kind of waiting for a rainy day to do it. But since you’re already going to be looking at it, maybe you can do that, too.”
“Yeah. That’s not a problem. Good idea to start there.”
Her tractor wasn’t quite as old as he was, but it definitely wasn’t new. He liked the fact that it didn’t have a cab, and he smiled a little at the thought that he’d always thought that this was the way farming should be, closer to the air and dirt and less like sitting in a boardroom watching the seasons and the ground from the air-conditioned and cushioned seat.
The seat on this tractor was not cushioned.
She led him to a box behind the tractor. “Here’s the filter, and I’d thrown the tools that I needed in the box. The oil is in there too.”
He lifted the lid on the tractor and started working on getting the oil changed while keeping an eye on the rest of the tractor, looking for any wires that might be broken or for loose bolts. He hadn’t been sure whether Ivory was going to stay or go, but she stayed at his elbow and handed him what he needed almost before he asked. He liked working with someone like that.
“So is this what you have planned for the rest of your life? Just happy here in your place, farming?” His question was kind of to fill the silence, since he’d always enjoyed socializing, but he was also curious about her.
She wasn’t what he thought.
“I’m happy here. And I want to stay.” She bent down and picked up the filter box, opening the lid. “I guess I don’t have a life plan. If that’s what you’re asking.” She seemed to be fiddling with the box, rather than taking the filter out, which was fine, since he wasn’t ready for it anyway. “What about you? Are you going to be an actor for the rest of your life?”
“Yeah. It’s the easiest money I’ve ever made. I just go have fun, for the most part, and they pay me for it.” It wasn’t quite that easy. Memorizing lines, working with difficult people, in difficult roles. But he really did enjoy his job and considered it grown-up playtime.
“All those people admiring you must be really hard to deal with too.”
He could hear the sarcasm in her voice
. “You know, you’d think you’d love to have people admiring you and screaming your name and just wanting a piece of you. But on one hand, it gets old. Seems like everybody wants you all the time, and you never have a break. And then on the other hand, it seems like no matter how often or how much or how many people say they love you and think you’re wonderful, it’s never enough. It never feels like you’ve arrived.”
He could not believe he said that to her.
Lately he’d been noticing the contradictions, the ones where it felt like everybody wanted him and he never had a break, which was why he’d taken a month off to come back to Cowboy Crossing and probably part of the reason he volunteered to be sold at auction and agreed to one month’s time. He just wanted to disconnect and be a regular person, not this idol that people made him out to be.
But at the same time, there never were enough admirers, the numbers were never big enough, there was always some insatiable part of him that wanted more admiration, more fans, more everything.
The box twisted in her hand, and a whole minute of silence ticked by, while he castigated himself for even opening his mouth. No one knew he felt like that. No one.
He felt exposed.
“I guess I’ll have to take your word for it, since I’ve never had that problem. But I can kind of believe that, because that seems to be a hallmark of famous people—they always need more admiration, more money, more attention.”
He hated that she’d lumped him into a group with everyone else. He felt like it was individually his problem, but he supposed she was right. It was probably the underlying problem behind people in Hollywood needing to be the perpetual fountain of youth—they’d do anything to stay young and continue to look beautiful.
“I’m not sure what to do about it. I can see it’s been a problem for others, and I don’t know how to keep it from being a problem for me.”
“Probably being here is the best thing that you can do.” She said that softly, and her hands had stilled.
She was right. That’s exactly what he’d instinctively known—what had called him to Cowboy Crossing.
“I guess I know that on some level, although I’ve never articulated it to myself before. Coming back here grounds me. Nobody thinks I’m more than what I am, and there aren’t those expectations to live up to. I don’t need more adulation when I don’t have any to begin with.”
“Oh, I think you have plenty. I think you’ll always have admiration just because of who you are...” She paused almost as though she wasn’t sure whether she could say the rest, but then she did. “And because of what you look like.”
He didn’t understand how he was considered handsome. He didn’t look that much different from his brothers when he looked at himself.
He hadn’t meant to get into that though; he just wanted to talk to her and make conversation, so he tried to think of something that would lighten the mood. “Do I get all Sundays off?”
She’d given him the past Sunday off but hadn’t said if it was a regular thing.
She snorted. “He’s just been working a week, and he’s more concerned about his day off than anything else.”
“I have to say it’s been a long time since I spent days at a time doing manual labor. It’s not easy. Of course I’m looking forward to my day off.”
“I still have the stock to feed and everything, but yeah, I usually don’t do too much on Sunday. Maybe work with my bees.”
“Isn’t that scary? Dangerous?”
“What in life isn’t dangerous?” She gave a little grunt. “Especially to a farmer.”
“Good point.” There were always so many things that could go wrong, so many different ways to have an accident, and who in a farming community didn’t know someone who had been in an accident?
His phone rang out from where it was tucked in his back pocket. His agent knew where he was and knew not to bother him unless it was an emergency. None of his Hollywood friends, using the word “friends” loosely, had called him since he left town.
“You mind if I get this?” he asked, digging his phone out of his pocket.
It was probably someone in his family.
“Of course. You’re not getting paid by the hour. I’ve already paid you. We’ll just work a little extra tonight.” Her words were light, and her expression, if not cheerful, was at least happy. She set the filter box down and walked away; he assumed to offer him privacy.
He glanced down at the vibrating phone in his hand, then wished immediately that he hadn’t even considered answering it. It was his ex-wife.
“Yeah?” They hadn’t exactly split on good terms, although both of them tried to pretend they had, and they also tried to be civil for the sake of their daughter, of whom his wife had custody.
She’d wanted it, and he hadn’t fought her, not wanting to drag his dirty laundry out in the public eye any more than he had to.
“Good morning to you too, Chandler.” There was just a hint of irritation in Jessica’s voice. She really was a nice lady and a good mother. He supposed there had just been too much ego in their house for them both to get along. When he became more successful, she’d become more demanding, finally accusing him of cheating on her, which he hadn’t, and leaving him.
There wasn’t too much he could do about that. Protestations of innocence had been met with assurances of his guilt. She judged him guilty, with no evidence. She’d taken RaeAnne, their daughter, with her.
“Good morning, Jessica. It’s awfully early, especially in Las Vegas.” He did have a tendency to be a little gruff and forgo the niceties. He could try to be civil, even though he knew she wasn’t coming back. In the two years since she left him, she’d lived with three guys—that he knew of—and she didn’t seem to miss him at all.
He missed being married, and the companionship it provided, but he didn’t miss Jessica. Too much ego in one house. That was what his agent said, and Chandler couldn’t disagree. He wasn’t an easy guy to live with either.
“Now that you mention it, it is early. You know I wouldn’t be bothering you if it wasn’t something of the utmost importance.”
As he stood there, listening, he remembered he’d read a headline somewhere that said she and Bruce Swinger, her latest boyfriend, had split up. He never read the article but was pretty sure he’d seen it in the grocery store checkout line. Who knew whether it was true or not.
“What can I help you with?” He tried to infuse a little bit of friendliness in his voice, just for the sake of his daughter, but it was hard to imagine that he and Jessica had ever been more than passing acquaintances. He had no idea what they’d been thinking when they got married.
“I’ve been offered a movie role that I just can’t turn down.” She named an actress, one of the best in the business and one of the most sought after. “She’s gotten sick on set and won’t be able to film the movie. My agent told me that they want me to come and take her place. But it’s on location in Africa, and I don’t want to take RaeAnne with me. I want you to keep her.”
Chandler didn’t say anything for a minute, resting his hand on the exhaust of the tractor and staring down at the old barn’s wood floor. What Jessica was saying didn’t make sense, and he was trying to put the pieces together to figure out what she actually meant.
It was what he always had to do with Jessica. She never said what she meant. There was always an angle.
Finally, he just came right out and asked. “You and I both know there’s no reason why RaeAnne couldn’t be on location with you. You have a tutor and a nanny for her, and movie sets always have all the resources you need.” He paused, to give his words weight. Then he asked, “What’s up?”
Jessica sighed. He wasn’t sure whether it was a put-out sigh or whether it was a sigh that indicated she was going to level with him. “You’re right. I know you know all of that as well as I do. I didn’t really want to tell you, but the set seems to be jinxed. There have been some freak accidents. You know how rumors swirl around this town.
I just didn’t want to take RaeAnne. I know it’s perfectly safe, but I know that you’re taking a month off, and you can have her anyway.”
Jessica was right. He was taking a month off in Cowboy Crossing, then he had to be in L.A. to get ready for his next film.
There was just one small problem. He’d committed to working for Ivory for the next three weeks. He could hardly do that if he had his daughter with him. And he couldn’t just bring her to town and drop her off at his mom’s.
Still, he’d do whatever he needed to do for his daughter.
“You know I’ll take her. Anytime. How are we getting her here?”
“The nanny will bring her. She was going to visit relatives in New York anyway.”
He’d never met the nanny. She probably came highly recommended. Jessica was responsible and caring. But, the idea of his daughter on a flight across the country with a woman he didn’t know didn’t sit right. “No. I’ll come out and get her.”
He wasn’t sure exactly how that was going to work, but he was pretty sure he could get Ivory to allow him to tack a couple of days onto the end, if he took a couple of days off to go get RaeAnne. Or if he needed to, he’d come back after his movie was filmed.
“Chandler, you don’t have to do that. Larissa is perfectly responsible, and she can deliver RaeAnne wherever we need her. You can just pick her up at the airport.”
“I’ll be out.”
The fact that Jessica didn’t argue with him any more meant she was pretty desperate to get away, because he usually didn’t win that easily.
They agreed he’d be going out tomorrow to get her and flying back the next day.
He let out a deep sigh as he swiped his phone off and let his hands rest on the tractor fender. He wasn’t sure how this was going to work.
Sold! In the Show Me State Page 10