Heather’s gaze narrowed. “What are you suggesting?”
“Start your own theater company.”
Heather stared as if she’d suggested stripping as a hobby. “You can’t be serious.”
“Why on earth not? Or is the audience around here too unsophisticated for a big New York City star?”
The taunt in Henrietta’s voice was deliberate, no doubt about it. The gleam in her eyes proved it. Heather frowned. “I don’t think…”
“What? You don’t think you can hack it? Is that what this is about? Fear? If it is, you’re no better than Todd.”
Heather didn’t like being compared to Todd in that particular way and especially not in that derisive tone.
“I am
not
afraid,” she retorted.
Henrietta gave a nod of satisfaction. “Good. You’re the professional. You were good enough to be on the stage in New York and on daytime television. Putting together a show out here should be a snap. People will be so grateful for the entertainment, they won’t judge you as harshly as those snobby East Coast critics, anyway. You’ll be a smash hit. You’ll be doing something good for a community that’s welcomed you and your daughter. It’ll be the highlight of the summer.”
“It takes a lot of time to stage a production,” Heather hedged. “It’s already mid-June.”
Henrietta’s sharp-eyed gaze challenged her. “You got someplace else you have to be?”
She thought wistfully of going back to New York, then weighed that against the stakes right here. “No, but…”
“But what?”
“How is Todd going to react? I’ll tell you. He’ll see it as one more sign that I’m sticking around. He’s not going to be happy.”
“You think not? If you ask me, the man will be delirious with joy.” She grinned. “He just might not recognize it at first.”
For the first time in days, Heather chuckled. “Maybe I’ll at least go out and take a look at the stage,” she conceded. “There wouldn’t be any harm in that, I suppose.”
Henrietta bounced up. “No time like the present. I’ll get my car keys. Sissy’s upstairs with Angel. We’ll send them over to stay with Janie at the hair salon.”
“We’re supposed to be open for dinner in an hour,” Heather protested. “This could wait till tomorrow.”
“No point in putting it off,” Henrietta chided. “It won’t take that long, and if it does, the customers will just have to wait. Won’t kill them to put off their evening meal for a few minutes. A few of them could put it off for days and they wouldn’t starve. Who knows, maybe Mack will show some initiative, step out of that kitchen and let them in.”
Since Heather didn’t believe for a second that the temperamental Mack was going to set foot out of his kitchen to deal with the customers, she suggested, “Maybe you should at least leave a note on the door. I don’t want you losing business on my account.”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake, all right.” Henrietta snatched up an order pad and scribbled a note on the back of a page.
“Back when I get here” it read curtly. Not exactly the apology for any inconvenience that Heather had envisioned, but Henrietta was obviously satisfied. She placed an equally abrupt call to Janie about dropping off Sissy and Angel.
“Now, let’s get a move on,” she commanded when the two girls were settled.
It turned out that Henrietta drove the way she did everything else, with grim determination and at full throttle. Heather’s heart was in her throat by the time they skidded to a stop in front of an old weathered barn that looked as if it might tumble down at any second. It was set beneath a stand of trees on about ten acres of land that were otherwise marked only by what appeared to be an unpaved parking area, a rodeo ring and some bleachers for spectators. It wasn’t exactly the sort of fairgrounds Heather had anticipated. Maybe when it was crowded with animals and people and a visiting carnival it would be downright festive; now it merely looked forlorn and deserted.
“This is it?” she asked, not even trying to mask her disappointment over the state of the barn in particular.
“It could use a coat of paint,” Henrietta admitted.
Knocking it down and starting from scratch struck Heather as a better alternative, but she kept her opinion to herself. “Is it open? Can we look inside?”
“Of course we can,” Henrietta said. “Wouldn’t have brought you out here otherwise.” She jiggled her massive key ring until she found the one she was looking for. “This ought to do it.”
“You have a key for the barn at the fairgrounds?” Heather asked. “Why?”
“Somebody’s got to,” she said matter-of-factly, already turning the key in the lock. She shoved aside the massive door, which squealed on its hinges. Then she waved Heather inside.
With the sunlight streaming in through the open doorway, Heather supposed there was a certain rustic charm about the place. Rows of chairs had been lined up facing a stage that was certainly big enough for a theatrical production, but the lighting seemed to consist of a single spotlight aimed at center stage. There was no curtain. The stage floor was made of wide planks of wood that had been swept clean, but never polished.
“I don’t know,” Heather said. “It’s…” Words failed her.
“I never said it was the caliber of a fancy Broadway stage,” Henrietta said defensively. “But for someone with a little imagination, someone with a little grit, it has possibilities.” Her gaze seared Heather. “Don’t you think so?”
Heather wished she shared Henrietta’s vision, but the truth was she was totally intimidated by the amount of work it would take to turn this barn into a home for a decent production. She might be able to direct in a pinch, but…
“It would take an awful lot of work,” she pointed out honestly. “Would it be worth it for just one play?”
“It would be an investment in the future,” Henrietta corrected her. “Not just the future of this old place, but yours and Todd’s. Or can’t you see that?”
Her penetrating look had Heather squirming. “I suppose.”
“You think about it. If you decide against it, nothing’s lost except a few hours of wrestling with your conscience.”
Heather gaped. “What does my conscience have to do with this?”
There was a mild rebuke in Henrietta’s gaze as she replied, “You think about that, too, child. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
16
A
t Jake’s request Todd sat down in New York with the company’s entertainment lawyer, along with Dean Whicker and Micah Richards, to see if a settlement could be reached that would preclude a suit. Jake didn’t want Megan to go through the stress of a long legal battle. He didn’t seem to care how Todd might feel being in the same room with the traitorous Micah.
The woman was as beautiful as ever in a lean, avant-garde sort of way, but for the first time since she’d come on board as Megan’s producer, Todd looked at her without interest. In fact, about the only emotion he could muster up was disgust. He felt a similar surge of hostility when he met Dean Whicker’s gaze, but the man was still their program’s syndicator, so he was forced to hide his reaction.
“I thought all this was settled when I decided not to drop Megan’s show,” Whicker said.
“It wasn’t,” the attorney said mildly. “Megan still has grounds for suing both of you for misuse of her studio time. I won’t even get into the morality of what you did.”
“I imagine not,” Micah retorted. “Lawyers are rarely concerned with the morality of an issue.”
Whicker shot her a warning look that silenced her. “What exactly is Megan looking for?” he asked, turning to Todd. “Blood? Money?”
“An extension of the current contract at more favorable terms,” Todd said readily. His gaze slid to Micah. “And a written guarantee that you will not enter into any programming agreement with Micah during that time.”
“You can’t—” Micah began.
“Done,” Whicker said, then rose. “Anything else?”
Todd barely hid a grin as Micah stared at him bitterly. “That should do it,” he said pleasantly. “I’ll leave the attorneys to hammer out the details. I have a plane to catch.”
He left the room without further comment. In the hallway, he punched out Jake’s number and triumphantly reported that the deal was done.
“Nice work,” Jake said. “You okay about Micah?”
“The woman is slime,” Todd said. “I can’t imagine what I ever saw in her.”
He had a feeling it was easier to say that now because he’d been spending time with Heather again. For that much, at least, he was grateful to her for coming into his life again and reminding him of how important kindness and decency were.
But where Heather and Angel were concerned, he headed back to Wyoming with his thoughts still in chaos. And this for a man who prided himself on his ability to remain focused.
Jake’s advice that he hire his own lawyer and put an end to the custody issue once and for all no longer seemed as distasteful as it once had. Quickly and decisively, the way he dealt with most problems, seemed like the way to go. Of course, it was awfully late in the game for anything he chose to do to be labeled
quick
or
decisive.
But when he picked up the phone book at the airport in Laramie on his return and checked the yellow pages for listings of attorneys, he couldn’t seem to make himself choose one and dial the number. Nor could he convince himself that the only reason for his hesitance was his distrust of lawyers in general. He tossed the phone book back with an edgy sense of frustration and the grim realization that he wasn’t over Heather Reed, not by a long shot. Like it or not, he was going to have to deal with that, because his gut told him that Heather wasn’t going to go away until he did.
Maybe brutal honesty would do the trick, he thought desperately. Maybe telling her that he’d made a final decision, that they did not stand a snowball’s chance in hell of getting back together, would finally convince her to turn tail and run.
Yeah, right. That night in her bed said otherwise and she was smart enough to know it. He could lie through his teeth and claim it didn’t matter, but that wouldn’t change anything. Hell, he could already hear the sound of her chuckling disbelief. With one little peck on the cheek, one innocent little caress, she could prove him a liar.
He returned to Whispering Wind dreading the encounter they were bound to have. He imagined she was going to have plenty to say about him running out on her without a word. He could have avoided it for another twenty-four hours or so, but he saw little point to postponing the inevitable. If leaving town for an entire week hadn’t accomplished anything, another day’s delay could hardly matter.
He drove straight into town and strolled into the Starlight Diner as if he hadn’t even been away. Henrietta gave him a quick welcoming hug as she darted past him to pick up an order. To his confusion, there was no sign of Heather. His heart thudded dully as he considered the possibility that he’d finally gotten his way, that she had packed up and left town, taking his daughter with her. He didn’t like the unsettling feeling of loss stealing over him one bit.
He slid onto a stool to wait until Henrietta had time enough to talk. She eventually breezed past long enough to pour him a cup of coffee and deliver a piece of apple pie, but she was way too busy to linger. Finally, when he could no longer stand not knowing, he snagged her arm.
“Hey, where’s your help?” he asked, hoping he sounded no more than casually curious, rather than panicked. “I thought Heather would be working this time of day.”
Henrietta gave him a knowing look, then waited in what was obviously an attempt to drag out his torment. “She is usually, but she’s tied up this afternoon out at the fairgrounds.”
Not gone, he thought with a barely concealed sigh of relief, but out at the fairgrounds. Why? Henrietta escaped his grasp before he could demand an explanation. A sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach suggested he wasn’t going to like it, whatever it was.
When she finally paused again to refill his coffee cup, he looked her straight in the eye and asked, “Why is she at the fairgrounds?” He was pleased that he managed to sound calm and reasonable, even though his gut was churning.
“She’s overseeing the renovations,” Henrietta said as if it was common knowledge.
Renovations? What renovations? And why on earth would Heather be involved? Unfortunately it was clear that Henrietta wouldn’t be giving him any details, at least not for another hour or so until the dinner rush died down. He figured the only way to find out was to head for the fairgrounds himself.
He heard the hammering and the sound of rock music being played at full volume before he even made the last turn onto the property. However, he was not prepared for the sight that awaited him. Men were swarming all over the old barn, replacing boards, spreading paint over the parts that were finished.
And in the midst of them was Heather, looking frazzled and dusty and sexy as hell in a pair of denim shorts and a tank top with her wildly curling hair tugged through the back opening of a baseball cap in a makeshift ponytail. She waved distractedly when she saw him, then went right back to her conversation with that damnable cowboy, Joe Stevens.
Before Todd could react to that, he heard a squeal and then thirty pounds of unleashed energy crashed into his legs. He might have tumbled straight onto his butt if he hadn’t spotted Angel heading toward him at the very last second and braced himself for the impact. Well, at least one of the females in his life appeared glad to see him.
“Where you been?” she demanded, reaching out her arms to be picked up.
With a gesture that was becoming second nature, he scooped her into his arms, even as his gaze sought out her mother. Heather and Stevens had their heads bent over what looked like some sort of a sketch.
He felt a soft pat on his cheek and turned to meet his daughter’s gaze. She grinned in satisfaction at having captured his attention.
“Where you been?” she repeated with single-track determination.
“In New York.”
Her expression brightened with apparent recognition. “I been to New York.”
Todd grinned back. “You used to
live
in New York.”
Only after he’d said the words did the implication strike him.
Used to live in New York,
as if that was no longer true, as if she now lived in Whispering Wind. Had he already stopped thinking of them as just passing through? Was that why he’d balked earlier at calling an attorney in Laramie? Was that why his heart had sunk at not finding Heather where he’d expected her to be—at the diner?
“Sweetie, I need to talk to your mommy,” he said, putting Angel down. She promptly grabbed his hand, clearly not understanding his unspoken request for privacy.
“I go with you,” she announced.
Todd automatically slowed his impatient pace to match hers. He listened with only a fraction of his full attention as she chattered away, but when she said something about her mommy making a play, his gaze snapped toward her.
“What did you say?”
“Mommy’s making a play,” she repeated. “I gonna be in it. Sissy, too.”
Sweet heaven, Todd thought. That’s what this beehive of activity was all about. Heather had somehow gotten it into her head to do some sort of theatrical production out here. What was she thinking? Staging a play took time. She was going back to New York. Not once had she implied otherwise, despite his own nagging sense that he might be just as happy if she changed her mind. Who on earth was supposed to take over when she abandoned the project to go back to her real life?
Those weren’t questions Angel could possibly answer, so he stored them up for Heather, who seemed to have vanished, probably with Stevens, who seemed content to trail around after her like an adoring puppy.
Sure enough, he found the two of them at the back of the stage staring up, debating whether there was room enough to install concealed tracks for lighting.
“There isn’t,” Todd said emphatically, startling them both.
Heather frowned at him. “Since when did you become a lighting expert?”
“Since I had to have sound stages built out here for Megan’s television show,” he replied.
Her expression brightened as if he’d announced an expertise in electrical engineering. “Good. Then you can be in charge of getting this place professionally lit.”
Before he could respond to that, she was on the move again, Stevens trailing after her. Obviously she assumed Todd would fall into step with her plans in the same way.
“Heather!”
His bellow brought her to a halt. She turned slowly, tilting her head quizzically. “Yes?”
“We need to talk.” He leveled a look at the rancher. “Alone, if you don’t mind.”
Stevens regarded him with knowing amusement. “It’s up to Heather.”
Heather frowned, but finally said, “Okay, fine. Joe, go ahead and check on Parks and Grady. See if they think we need more paint. Those old boards are soaking it up like sponges. Henrietta said if we needed more to go ahead and get it and put it on her account.”
He nodded. “Will do.”
He took his own sweet time about leaving, though, Todd thought, as Joe paused to bend down to Angel’s level. “Short stuff, want to come with me?”
“Okay,” she said readily. “I ride on your shoulders?”
“You bet,” he said, hoisting her into position before finally going off and leaving Todd alone with Heather.
Todd didn’t care to examine the twinge that sight caused him. He focused all his attention on Heather, instead. “What the heck is going on around here?” he demanded.
“What does it look like?”
Chaos? Bad judgment? Danger? She wouldn’t like any of those answers. He settled for saying, “You don’t want to know.”
There was a quick flash of hurt in her eyes before she snapped back, “Thank you for your support. Now, if you’re just out here to criticize, I don’t have the time. I’ll see you around.”
She’d taken several brisk strides toward the door before he caught up with her, grasped her arm and whirled her around. Her gaze clashed with his, sparks flying.
“What is your problem?” she demanded.
“I just asked a simple question.”
“It didn’t sound simple to me. It sounded pretty darned close to an accusation that I was doing something wrong, something you might find a little messy or inconvenient, like sticking around town with your daughter a little too long for your comfort.”
Todd raked his hand through his hair in frustration. “I never said that. I—”
Heather cut him off. “No. You never do say exactly what’s on your mind these days, do you?”
“That’s absurd.”
“Is it?”
Todd drew in a deep breath and forced himself to inject a calmer note into his voice. Riling Heather had never been the way to get a straight answer out of her.
“Let’s back up a minute,” he suggested, wanting desperately to stick to the facts, because he had no idea what to do with the emotions he was feeling right this second. He gestured toward all the activity. “What’s going on? Angel says you’re making a play.”
To his dismay, she nodded. “That pretty much sums it up. Henrietta suggested I start a theater company while I’m here, then she showed me this place. I floated the idea by some people, it took off like a runaway freight train, and here we are.”
“Henrietta did this,” he said slowly. “This was all her idea?”
“Yep. She pointed out that all an actress really needs in order to work is a stage—it doesn’t really matter where it’s located. After all, it’s laughter and applause we crave, right? Or have you forgotten that?”
He ignored the jibe and lobbed one of his own. “You’ve lowered your sights quite a bit, then. I thought you had your heart set on Broadway.”
She shrugged with an indifference he didn’t buy for a second.
“Things change,” she said. “Goals shift. People adapt. You might want to keep that in mind. Of course, that
is
what you did, isn’t it?”
Todd heard the familiar note of censure and chose once again to ignore it. “We’re talking about you. How long is this supposed to keep you happy, Heather? Last I looked, you had a fairly short attention span.”
“That’s not fair.”
“You’ve said you intend to leave here. Will you stick around long enough to get the first play on stage? Or will you bail out the minute you and I settle this custody issue?”
It occurred to him then that that might be precisely why he was taking so long to reach an agreement with her. It fit with every other piece of evidence he’d discovered since his return. A part of him didn’t want her gone, no matter what sort of trouble her staying brought into his life. And maybe, just maybe, he’d been testing her to see if she would stay, if he mattered enough this time for her to stick around for the long haul.