STUDS AND STILETTOS (Romantic Mystery) (7 page)

Dan said nothing, just kept his gaze on her face as if to make sure she was finished talking. She’d always thought a good listener was really thinking of something else. But that wasn’t true with him. In fact, the sheer force of his attention pulled more words from her mouth.

“Those horses weren’t rearing on cue though,” she added. “Mainly they were scared or disobedient. But what you were doing with Bruno was amazing. He’s a perfect actor.”

Dan smiled, the lines around his jaw deepening. “We actually need six horses for the full-grown Reckless. A horse to rear, one to bite, one to lie down and two to gallop.”

“That’s five,” Emily said. She liked it when Dan spoke. It gave her a reason to stare at his face.

“And one in the stall,” he said. “A quiet one that even Shania can touch.”

His voice had turned slightly reproachful when the leading lady was mentioned, and Emily felt a spike of relief that he didn’t idolize the gorgeous actress. “What about the horse in the pool?” she asked, straightening her thoughts.

“That was Reckless as a two-year-old. Played by a Quarter Horse called Splash. He did a good job today.”

“It looks like Bruno wants to do a good job too,” she said, surprised by the gelding’s submissive demeanor. “He wouldn’t dare bite you.”

“He’s smart but headstrong. That’s what makes him fun. Until you came along, I was considering using a different horse. Our earlier background performer was so intimidated, he dropped Bruno’s lead line and jumped behind the cameraman.”

Emily smiled and studied Bruno. Despite being free, the horse remained beside Dan, as though there were no other place in the world he’d rather be. She couldn’t imagine anyone being afraid, not when Dan was around.

“Should I practice with him?” she asked.

Dan shook his head. “We want to keep your reaction fresh. And with the horses, too much practice can make it look artificial. The director will work with you tomorrow, tell you what he wants. Be flexible. Your call time is eight. It’s just a simple scene.”

A simple scene.
Maybe to him, but not to her. She was going to be in a real movie, holding the horse playing Reckless. Sure, it was just background but at least Jenna would see her on screen, if only for a second.

She bounced on her toes, unable to hide her eagerness. “Thanks so much. I’m really looking forward to it.”

“So you won’t back out on me? On my horse?” He gave a teasing grin, his teeth flashing white. “You won’t drop the lead line and run?”

“I definitely won’t run,” she said.

Emily burst into the background tent, flushed with elation. Fortunately everyone was still here. It was almost eight, but the extra time with Dan and Bruno hadn’t made her miss the bus. She scanned the jumble of bored faces and spotted Judith sitting on a bench close to the coffee table.

“I got the job,” Emily called, rushing toward her. “Special skills. I’m going to be in a scene with Reckless tomorrow.”

“Wonderful,” Judith said, although her smile looked slightly wistful. “You’ll be able to see everything. His stall, the track, all the people. Hamilton showed me Reckless’s grave and even checked on background for me, but the only part they need tomorrow is for someone who can drive a tractor.”

Emily nodded, realizing now what had motivated Judith to stay and chat up Hamilton. “I wish you’d find something too. But maybe you could come on the bus with me tomorrow and watch.”

Judith’s forehead wrinkled. “But there isn’t a bus tomorrow. No extras are needed. Only a few special skills.”

“No bus?” Emily sank on the bench beside Judith. “But how will I get here?”

“Extras find their own transportation unless a lot of background is required, like today.” Judith gave a sympathetic shrug. “Don’t you have a car either?”

“Not one that’s running,” Emily said. “And I have to come. I promised Dan I’d show up.”

“There’s a hotel a few miles down the road. Most of the cast stay there. Maybe you could get a room.”

Emily nodded, too proud to admit she was flat broke. Her last dollar had been spent on an awesome pair of shoes, perfect for the nineties. But perhaps Jenna could call the hotel desk and make a reservation. Burke and Jenna had stacks of credit cards.

She tugged out her phone. There were a couple of texts and finally one from Jenna:
Working with Robert Dexter. Yay. So proud of you, movie star!

Emily studied the message, her throat tightening. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d made Jenna proud. Unfortunately, her sister misunderstood. Emily wasn’t actually working with Robert Dexter. She’d be lucky to even talk to him. And she certainly wasn’t a star. It had been a major feat simply to be chosen as special skills.

She stared at the text, feeling herself shrink.

“You must have had a bang-up audition.” Judith gave Emily a congratulatory pat on the back. “Being chosen by Dan Barrett is quite a coup. You definitely are scruffier now than when you were on the bus. You look like a real stable hand.”

Emily swiped at the horsehair clinging to her borrowed shirt. Ironically the expensive shoes and dress she’d purchased hadn’t helped land the job. Next time she’d save her money.

She shoved the phone back in her pocket. No way would she call Jenna for a loan. Her sister might ask deflating questions, like why the movie didn’t cover a hotel. And right now, Emily felt better than she had in months. She’d actually landed work on a movie set.

At least Judith understood her accomplishment. “It’s kind of a neat scene,” Emily said, turning back to Judith. “I hold Reckless who’s very upset after his groom quit.”

“The groom didn’t quit. I told you before. She disappeared.”

“Right.” Emily nodded, trying to appease Judith’s sense of detail. “Anyway, after the groom
disappeared
, Reckless goes crazy. Dan said they have different horses to bite and rear and stuff. I get to hold the rearing one. His name is Bruno and he’s gorgeous.”

“You were with Dan Barrett? Or was it an assistant?”

“It was Dan. He let me watch while he worked with the horse. Wanted me to see that Bruno is obedient so I can trust him when he rears. Dan seems nice.” Emily peered at Judith, hoping for some Internet trivia. “Dan seems really nice,” she prompted.

“Oh, yeah,” Judith said. “He knows his stuff. He’s a Barrett, from one of the oldest families in Montana. When he’s not on a movie set, he’s at his ranch.”

“Must be hard,” Emily said. “Moving around the country, separated from…wife and kids.” She held her breath and pretended to inspect her painted nails.

“Yes.” Judith nodded. “According to Mr. Hamilton, Shania already complained about this remote site. Hamilton told me lots of interesting stuff. And he’s going to try to get me another background job later this week.”

“That’s great.” Emily waited a moment then tried again. “Are most of these movie people married?”

“Robert Dexter is. Shania isn’t.”

Emily gave a rueful smile. She wasn’t interested in the marital status of Shania, or even Dexter. However, Judith’s interest was clearly focused on the actors. Admittedly, Emily’s had been too—until she’d met Dan.

Still, it was much more important to figure out where she would stay tonight, rather than waste energy wondering about a man who was so far out of reach, he might as well be in a different constellation.

She dragged her thoughts back to her current problem. “They’re only using a couple barns for the movie. Does that mean the other buildings are empty?”

“Totally empty,” Judith said. “Why do you ask?”

“I need to find a place to sleep…just in case the hotel is full.”

*

Emily waved as Judith joined the line of weary extras and climbed onto the idling bus. The aisle light spotlighted Judith’s drawn face until passengers streamed around her and she disappeared from sight. Most of the performers looked relieved to be heading home, in contrast to Judith’s reluctant expression. One man was already asleep, eyes shut, his cheek flattened against the window.

Hopefully, Judith would land more movie work. Despite her eccentricities, Emily liked the older lady.

Minutes later, the bus rumbled away. A plume of gray exhaust spiraled from the tailpipe, marking its trail before fading into the night.

And then Emily was alone. She swallowed, hugging her bag closer to her chest. After the earlier frenetic activity, the movie site seemed deserted. The production crew had packed up for the day. Even the wardrobe tent was closed. Muted conversation drifted from a string of silver trailers beyond the tents but she felt isolated, and uncertain.

She never liked that feeling and squared her shoulders, trying to fool herself into feeling more confident. No way would she miss tomorrow’s shoot. Her car was busted, she had no hotel money but according to Judith there were plenty of empty barns on the estate. And she had certainly slept in barns back home.

Grabbing her resolve, she started walking, skirting the tents and trailers and using the moonlight to pick her way over the thick coils of wires. Fortunately she still wore her groom’s clothing. She’d forgotten how comfortable barn boots were. Navigating this rough ground would have been more difficult in heels.

The outline of a familiar building loomed—the main barn, the hubbub of activity and the site of her earlier audition. Stall windows glowed in a neat row of illuminated squares. A night watchman hovered in the doorway.

She veered to the right, trying to avoid his attention, and followed a rubber walkway to an adjacent barn. This building was unlit, and hopefully unmanned.

She stepped inside and waved her phone light. The long aisle appeared deserted. The stalls were empty of horses, filled only with moldy boxes and a string of dangling cobwebs. Something fluttered from the rafters.

She gripped her bag, trying to ignore her thumping heart. It was blindfold dark, and the weak phone light only extended a few feet. Bats and rodents—even an imagined bogeyman—had never scared her before. But when she’d slept in the shed back home, she always had company, if not Jenna then Peanut. Odd how a little pony could provide so much comfort.

And these huge barns were devoid of horses and not one bit friendly. They stretched in a lifeless line, their shadows silhouetted by an eerie yellow moon. Their stillness made her skin prick, like she was the only survivor in a hostile land.

A horse nickered in the distance, a faint but welcome sound. She hurried from the barn, trying to pinpoint its source. Definitely a horse. But where had it come from? Not the movie barn with the guard but from the opposite direction.

She edged through the shadows, following an equine walkway that hooked into the trees then turned into a crude footpath. Something rustled in the underbrush; a heavy rodent-like body moving scant feet away. Her stride quickened until she was moving so fast she almost tripped. And then, thankfully, she saw it—a compact two-story building tucked away in the trees. It was much smaller than the last buildings but bigger than a cottage. White-railed paddocks flanked the west side, matching the gleaming white shutters on the windows.

She stepped closer, peering inside. A night light illuminated the aisle, revealing six roomy stalls. The door at the far end was padlocked.

A bay horse abruptly stuck his head over the door, his eyes inquisitive. Then he nickered, such a welcoming sound that she smiled with relief and walked into the barn. She paused to stroke his neck, enjoying how his breath warmed her face. He had a distinctive white blaze and wore a blue blanket. His front legs were wrapped and the familiar smell of horse liniment thickened the air.

“Hi buddy,” she said. “Want some company?”

She glanced around the cozy barn. The stall to his left housed a sleepy-eyed chestnut who barely looked at her. But other than the two horses, the building was empty.

She peered over the door of an adjoining stall, relieved to see fresh hay and six bales of straw stacked neatly against the wall. One bale was even open. Perfect. It would be possible to make a comfortable bed without leaving any mess.

Something brushed her ankle. She leaped backwards in shock. A gray cat with a ragged ear gave a plaintive meow and stared expectantly. Smiling, she scooped him up and headed for the straw. This couldn’t get much better. Two horses and a warm cat for company. Best of all, it was within her price range.

*

“Look at Shania’s horrified expression.” Anthony gestured at the screen, his entire body twitching with energy. “This pool footage looks so genuine. And the double’s switch is seamless.” He gave an enthusiastic thumbs-up to Dan, then nodded at the department heads. “Keep it up. We’ll have another good day tomorrow.”

Anthony rose from the table, passed a progress report to the producer and turned toward Dan. “A slight change tomorrow. Shania is feeling better so I want to film the stall scene and the doorway shot. Forecast calls for red sky in the morning.”

“Okay,” Dan said. “I’ll have both an old and young Reckless ready.”

“No, we’ll save the rearing scene for the rain, depending on what special effects can do.”

Dan nodded. Anthony often adjusted his shooting schedule but never on such short notice. However, Ice was primed for his cuddly sunrise scene, and the production office would advise riders of new call times. The only performer they couldn’t reach was Emily. He’d intended to take her phone number in case of a change but had been distracted by her throaty laugh, the hip-swinging walk, her tempting curves—she made the day more interesting and admittedly he’d been thinking of more pleasurable things.

Naturally he wouldn’t pursue the attraction. He’d learned to keep his trailer door locked. Movie shoots had enough complications, and the hurt look in feminine eyes when it was time to ship out simply wasn’t worth the sexual gratification. It was difficult enough to pat the horses good-bye.

Most women, despite pretty assurances to the contrary, wanted to prolong a relationship long after its due date. His business took him across North America while actresses were pulled in other directions. Long distance relationships always fizzled, no matter how much love and trust was proclaimed at the wrap party. He didn’t have the time or inclination to worry about a demanding actress who was chasing her own agenda. And he hated telephone affairs. They turned people jealous, petty and paranoid.