* * * * *
Morning dawned bright and sunny. The sky sparkled a perfect blue and thin lines of white clouds creased the sky. Scott climbed out of bed, grabbed a Coke for a quick caffeine fix and showered and shaved. He wasn’t used to the straight razors of the day and nicked his face twice. “Shit.” He stuck pieces of toilet paper to his chin and jaw and brushed his teeth. “Wish I had an electric toothbrush,” he mumbled with a mouth full of toothpaste.
He finished cleaning up, bounced out the door of his trailer and went to the commissary. After gulping the first cup of coffee, getting a refill and filling his plate with pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs, sausage and white toast, he dug in.
Scott had finished half of his meal when the door to the commissary opened and Maggie walked in. His heart did a double dip. She looked stunning in one of those shapeless dresses the women wore nowadays. The sunny yellow color brought out the golden highlights in her hair and the bright blue trim accented her incredible eyes. The bolt of electricity that shot through him stabbed him in his heart. His fork clattered to the plate, the food in his mouth tasted like sand and his hands shook.
Maggie gave Scott a stunning, white smile. Did that mean she’d accepted his story? He watched her head straight for his table. Scott stood when she arrived. “Hi.” Maggie leaned forward to give Scott her cheek and he pecked her, just missing her lips. The feel of her dewy-soft skin and the scent of some flowery perfume went straight to Scott’s head. He pulled out a chair and helped her sit down.
Once he’d resumed sitting he leaned across the table, grabbed her hand and said, “How are you this morning?” It sounded lame, but Scott didn’t want to ask outright if she believed him and he didn’t want anyone at a nearby table to overhear their conversation.
“Oh, I’m fine,” Maggie said brightly. “That breakfast looks great. I’ll be right back.”
Maggie rose and Scott grabbed her hand to stop her from leaving. “Wait. I need to know,” he stood up and leaned close to her asking, “do you believe me?”
Maggie laughed. “I’ve been trying to decide just that, Scott. Don’t I even deserve a cup of coffee first?”
Scott’s eyebrows lowered. “No. I need an answer.” He knew it was the wrong tack to take but he couldn’t help himself. “Please,” he added to soften the demand.
“I’ve decided that you’re a bit funny in the head, Mr. Forrester. But the,” Maggie glanced around the room, “thing…in your possession did make an impression,” she whispered. “I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt.”
A wave of relief poured through Scott. His knees weakened and he sank to the chair. He gave Maggie a grateful glance. “Thank you.”
With a twinkle in her eye she looked down at Scott. “May I get my breakfast now?”
Scott jumped up from the table with renewed energy. “You sit. Let me get it for you.”
“Fine, surprise me.”
A twinge of regret spiked through Maggie. She’d lied to Scott about believing him. She watched the tall, handsome man stride away from her with confidence and wondered if she could keep up her charade. Scott was a nice man, a brave man. But his outlandish story pointed to the possibility of a man with a mental problem.
She glanced around the room. People of all sizes and shapes, in all manner of dress sat at the tables. Some wore western-style costumes, others were dressed in cocktail attire and one or two looked as if they were in their pajamas. Maggie knew that people had been up all night shooting scenes. The clatter and clank of silverware on dishes and the murmur of voices in conversation were a constant and soothing sound to her frazzled nerves. She looked for Scott and found him at the buffet table loading a plate for her.
Maggie’s heart twisted. Scott was so tall and broad in the shoulders that he towered over everyone in the buffet line. His chiseled face and cleft chin showed strength and character. How could he be insane? Her heartbeat accelerated when he turned toward her and smiled a crooked grin. God, the man was gorgeous. She gave him a weak smile back and watched him carry the tray of food to their table.
“Got you pancakes, scrambled eggs, potatoes and bacon. Oh, and white toast,” he said.
“Thank you.” Maggie stared at him.
“What?”
“Why did you say ‘white toast’? It’s just toast.”
Scott leaned forward and whispered, “In my time there are many kinds of bread. White, wheat, sourdough, rye—”
“Well, don’t you two look cozy.”
Maggie and Scott jumped at the sound of Carey Chambers’ voice. He stood tall and glowered at them. Maggie gasped when she saw Chambers’ face. “What happened to you?” There was a bruise the size of a fist near his right jaw. It looked painful.
Chambers glanced at the ceiling as if he were deciding what to say. “Ran into the cupboard over my icebox in the middle of the night.”
Scott held back a snicker. Looks like the thugs left a mark on his face to remind him how precious his face was to his career.
“That looks bad, Carey.” Maggie stood and gently touched his face. “You should have the doctor look at it.”
Chambers took Maggie’s hand in his and linked his fingers through hers. He smiled at her and winked. “I’ll be fine, darling. Now that I know you care, I’ll be fine.”
Instant anger poured through Scott. He wanted to pull Chambers’ hand away from Maggie and lock her in his arms. He’d never felt jealous before and didn’t like the feeling. Adrenaline rushed through him. His hands curled into fists. He stood so that Chambers wouldn’t have the advantage of height. “Looks more like a fist hit you, Chambers.” Scott had to dig at the egotistical actor.
Scott saw the way Chambers’ eyes widened. He watched the man’s eyebrows lower and saw the calculating gleam in his eyes. “No. Just an accident. Maybe we should have a chat later today?”
“Depends on how much liquor you will have consumed by then.” Chambers flinched. “Say, where do you get the stuff, anyway? Got an illegal supplier?”
Maggie gasped. “Scott! You’re being so rude.”
Scott turned to Maggie. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” His apology was to Maggie, not Carey Chambers. Scott glanced at the clock on the far wall. “Looks like I need to get going. Need to get ready for my next scene.” He turned to Maggie whose hand was twined with Chambers. Scott put one hand on Maggie’s wrist and gently pulled her fingers from the actor’s with his other. He kissed the top of her hand and squeezed it. From the corner of his eye Scott saw people from the nearby tables watching the threesome. He leaned in to Maggie and lightly kissed her on her lips. “See you soon, sweetheart,” he whispered. As Scott left the room, he saw the looks of shock and speculation cross the faces of the diners. He knew that rumors would fly about the three of them.
His heart fluttered at the thought that he’d put Maggie in an untenable situation. But he couldn’t stop himself from untangling Maggie from the slimy, sleazy grasp of Carey Chambers.
As Scott wandered to his trailer he wondered how such a deadbeat could become the reigning celebrity of his day.
* * * * *
The scene started with a bang. Scott and Maggie were on the newly rebuilt train, she sitting on a lounge chair and he standing, looking out the window. “I’m not going over this again, Susie,” Scott said as he played Alex. “The ranch is still my father’s, no matter what William says.” He ran his hands through his hair and turned. Music swelled in the background sounding tinny and too loud.
Susie, upset with Alex, jumped up from the lounge chair. “Let it go, Alex. William has control and will never give it up.” She moved closer to Alex and placed her hand on his chest.
Alex took her shoulders in his hands and shook her. “I don’t care. It’s my ranch, my legacy.” Music crescendoed to a fever pitch.
“Your only legacy is as a con man, a drifter. You’ve done nothing with your life, Alex. What makes you think you can run a ranch? It’s hard work and you haven’t done a day’s work in your l
ife.”
Alex pulled Susie to his chest, crushing her with the force of his anger. “You don’t know me. You know nothing about me!”
“Stop it, Alex. You’re hurting me,” Susie said.
“You’ll know when I hurt you. Your heart will break into a thousand pieces. I’ve loved you my whole life. But you never saw me, looked right past me. All those times I spent with William and your family and not once did you really see me.”
As his head bent toward Maggie’s lips, Scott forgot he played a character. Her eyes blazed with passion, anger and a deep desire. Her scent soared within him and his gut twisted with need. He lowered his head and stopped just as his lips touched hers. “But you’ll see me now, baby.” Scott’s lips rubbed Maggie’s while he said that.
Desire erupted into passion so quickly that they both groaned aloud. Scott pressed Maggie’s lips harder and forced her mouth open. His tongue slipped inside before she could think. He felt her stiffen like a board. Her hands clenched on his clothing and he felt her bosom heave with her sharp intake of breath. A moment later she went limp, her hands unclenched and wound their way around his neck. Maggie’s tongue dueled with his, thrusting and withdrawing. Scott knew she didn’t realize that her heaving chest was rubbing his, torturing him with a clawing need.
Both of them forgot they were in a movie scene and jumped apart when Carey Chambers’ character, William, banged through the door to the rail car. “Get your hands off my sister.” William hauled Alex away from his sister and shoved him toward the window, leaving a distraught Susie to fall to the lounge chair. “Get out, now!”
“I’ll get out when I have my father’s ranch under my control.” Alex placed his hand on the butt of his gun hanging low on his hips.
“You’ll never get control of the ranch,” William said.
“So, it’s your way or the highway,” Alex replied.
“Cut!” Damon Westerly roared. “What kind of a statement is that, Scott?”
Caught up in the scene, his body still reeling from his intense attraction with Maggie and his extreme dislike of Chambers, Scott hadn’t realized he’d used a twenty-first century saying. “Shit.”
“What?” Maggie gasped at the vulgarity.
Scott turned away from the actors and muttered, “Crap.” He ran his hands over his face and willed his mind to turn back on. Before he could say anything Maggie marched over to him. Scott thought she was going to ream him a new one for the kiss but she stopped in front of him, smiled sweetly and slapped his face. The sound of the crack shocked him more than the sting of her hand. “Maggie, I’m sor—”
“That was for being vulgar. This is for the kiss.” She pulled Scott toward her so fast he stumbled. Her lips crushed his and her hands traveled under his arms and up his back.
Scott was so rattled he couldn’t think. His body took over and he rubbed his hips against hers while kissing her lips, her cheeks, her eyes and her forehead. Neither one heard the shocked intake of breaths from the crew.
“That’s enough!” Carey Chambers roared. “Get your hands off that woman.” Chambers pulled Scott away and threw a punch. Scott didn’t have time to move out of the way and it hit him squarely in the stomach. He doubled over as all the breath flew out of him in a rush. “You will not ruin Miss Ingram’s reputation! I want this man off the set and off this film!”
Damon Westerly rushed onto the train. “Forrester, out. Go to your trailer and cool off. You need to think about your behavior. We don’t swear in front of the ladies. We don’t manhandle them and we don’t compromise them. You’re lucky nobody took a picture. Maggie’s reputation would be ruined.” He turned to his crew. “No one saw or heard anything, got it? If you are approached by the newspapers you don’t know anything. That’s an order.” He turned to Maggie. “Pardon his bad manners Miss Ingram.”
Chapter Seven
Maggie’s mind reeled. Intense feelings of longing and need raced through her. Scott’s kisses were heavenly. Her body reacted with weakness followed by chills followed by raging desire. Never had she felt so feminine, so sexy, so wanted. She didn’t even mind his swearing. It made him all the more human, manly.
She didn’t remember what she mumbled to Damon Westerly as she excused herself from the set. Maggie needed time to think about what had just happened. When she was back in her trailer she sank to the sofa.
Wow. Scott was a powerful man. It amazed her that he caused her to forget her lines and the fact that she was acting on the set in front of dozens of people. When Scott kissed her she felt as if they were the only two people in the room.
The incident would work to her advantage, though. Now everyone would know that Scott desired Maggie. Carey Chambers’ interruption showed that he had some feelings for her too, but she wasn’t sure if they were romantic or brotherly. It didn’t matter. Maggie decided then and there to use Chambers too. At some point a newspaper man would be around to take a picture that would compromise her reputation and then she’d be done with her overbearing father and his sleazy choice of a husband for her.
Maggie shuddered at the thought of Roger Morgan. His greasy blond hair, rat-like beady eyes and high-pitched voice made the short paper industrialist a man she wanted to avoid at all costs. But her overbearing father, only concerned with his ability to grow his steel fortune by linking it with Morgan’s paper fortune, forced Maggie to turn to drastic measures.
She slumped back into the sofa. It bothered her that she’d lied to Scott. Maggie used to pride herself on being an honest woman. Now she felt trapped in a situation where she had to lie and hurt a good man, even if he was a bit off his rocker.
Maggie thought about Scott. He seemed to care for her, deeply. Maggie shook her head to clear the mental fog and played devil’s advocate. Maybe it was just lust. She waved her hand in the air to brush away the thought. No, it wasn’t. She had never before known such truth. Scott’s feelings for her were real. She didn’t know why, but that knowledge permeated every bone in her body. She knew that Scott could barely control himself around her. She felt his internal struggle and felt the same around him. She’d never molded herself to a man before never felt his hardness and never wanted to see what happened next until she’d met Scott.
The interplay in the rail car ran through Maggie’s mind. The potency of Scott’s desire, the touch of his kiss, his sweet breath and musky scent all combined to make Maggie sure that using Scott was the wrong thing to do. But Roger Morgan’s weak face floated into her mind followed by her father’s hard, jowly face and her mother’s indifferent, empty look.
She had to get out from under their protection. Forever.
Maggie heaved a heavy sigh. There was no other way to do it.
Against her good judgment she would continue on her path to self-destruction. She leaned forward and put her face in her hands. In her mind Maggie saw Scott’s mahogany eyes glitter with desire and tenderness.
Please, Lord. Let him forgive me. A terrifying thought popped into Maggie’s head. Did she love him?
If she did, how could she treat him like this, use him like this?
The internal struggle drained Maggie. She lay down to rest hoping that when she woke some miracle would have taken her from this world and delivered her to a new, easier one where she had control of her life and her parents couldn’t reach her.
* * * * *
The stocky man hid behind a large dresser. He peeked around it to watch the scene being filmed. Carey Chambers waved and pointed his arms as he shouted at a man. The man didn’t know the other character’s name and didn’t care. He inched forward to get a better look and knocked into the fake dresser. It toppled over.
“Cut!” roared Damon Westerly. “Who did that? Pick up that prop and put it back where it belongs.” Westerly turned to the cameraman. “Randolf, move the camera closer to Carey. Set it up so that when Maggie gets here you’re ready for the close-up, the one when Susie tells William to give the ranch to Alex.” The cameraman moved the heavy camera into
place and waited.
The thug backed away from the toppled dresser. He furtively glanced around looking for another hiding place. Cables and light poles, chairs and tables were not bulky enough to hide him. He turned and walked quickly toward the door.
“Hey! You can’t be here. This is a closed set,” said Jonathon, the prop man.
The man ran.
“Hey! Stop!” Jonathon ran after the intruder.
“Now what?” yelled Westerly. “Someone find out what’s going on. We have a film to shoot.”
* * * * *
Maggie’s call time was in twenty minutes. She had stopped at makeup so they could pretty up her face for the lights and cameras. She reached to open the door to the set when it burst outward almost knocking her over. She staggered to the side. Strong arms wrapped around her waist and she was pulled off balance. The man pulled her along with him as he said, “Don’t struggle or I’ll hurt you.”
“Let me go!” she screamed.
“You’re comin’ wit me, girly.”
“You! Stop! Unhand that woman!” shouted Jonathon.
Maggie pummeled and clawed the man’s arms. She didn’t let up when he screeched. He tightened his arms around her. “Shut up, toots,” the man huffed. He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes knocking the breath out of her.
She lay over the man’s shoulder with her arms dangling down his back. As the man ran down the alleyway her head bounced up and down hitting her chin on his shoulder blade. The blurred black asphalt raced past her downcast eyes and she began to get dizzy. She feebly pounded his back, her legs kicked the man in his stomach.
“Ouch, lady. Stop that or I’ll tie youse up.”
The man slowed and Maggie’s bearings came back in a rush. “Let go of me right now!” she screamed. She pounded harder on his shoulders, back and head. The man stumbled. His knees gave way and he sank forward toward the pavement. He tried to continue running but lost his balance and his grip on Maggie. As he put his hands out to break his fall, Maggie slid sideways off his shoulder.
No Silent Christmas Page 9