A Change of Scenery, page 22
Doc whiffled his greeting, and she buried her face in his neck. “I’m counting on you, boy.” A deep-chested answer vibrated beneath her hands, and she reached for a fistful of mane.
Cale linked his hands for her left foot, and she stepped up, shifting forward in the seat so much larger than her customary English saddle.
Sliding her booted feet into the wide stirrups, she glanced at Cale with surprise. “They’re the perfect length.”
He took Doc’s bridle with a half-smile pulling one side of his mouth.
Thorson’s holler across the river swept downstream with the water, but his waving arms were loud and clear.
“I’ll be right here.” Cale stepped back with a tug on his hat brim. She reined Doc toward the riverbank, hearing nothing but the rushing water and the other odd rumble—the tumbling of stones from the heavy wall around her heart.
Jed and his horse, Lucky, entered the river, water quickly rising above the horse’s knees and churning close to the stirrups in midstream. Up the opposite bank, he made for the bluff top once more where he turned Lucky with a flourish, waiting for Ella to follow.
She knew the camera rolled.
She knew Thorson held his breath.
She knew the silent crowd behind her waited spellbound to see if she would make the crossing or be thrown into the Arkansas River.
And she knew, as Cale had reminded her, the gift that God had given her.
Like Peter climbing from the boat to walk on the sea, she heeled Doc forward, keeping her eyes on the opposite bank. Leaning forward with a pat on the gelding’s neck, she committed to the journey. “Come on, boy. It’s just a little water.”
Ears perked forward, he stepped soundly into the rush, finding purchase on the slick rocks of the riverbed.
Halfway across, the water’s roar thundered around her. Powerful. Unrestrained. Untamed.
Doc didn’t flinch or hesitate but crossed confidently until he climbed the opposite bank.
Quickly taking charge, she reined him up the embankment to Jed’s side atop the bluff and faced the camera. Thorson would want her looking at Jed as if he’d saved her life—which he was completely incapable of doing—so she gave him her best wide-eyed Mabel imitation.
Surprise rippled across Jed’s features, at her riding or her acting she couldn’t tell. He leaned from his saddle for the signature kiss.
“Cut!”
Bless Thorson’s soul. She slapped her stirrups and Doc lurched forward.
Jed caught himself before he took a spill.
Ever the showman, he covered his blunder with a wave of his hat and winked. “Maybe next time, darlin’.”
In a pig’s eye.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Jealousy collided with pride, swamping Cale’s judgment before it all rolled into relief. Good thing he wasn’t mounted, or he’d be charging through the Arkansas and right over the top of Jed Barr.
The crowd erupted behind him, applauding, cheering, hollering. Even Thorson’s crew across the river jumped up and down and waved their hats.
Ella rode down the embankment and across Grape Creek where Thorson met her with an outstretched hand and a pat on the neck for Doc. The lump in Cale’s throat was so big he could hardly breathe.
The director talked to her briefly, and Ella shook her head. Doc side-stepped, a sure sign that he’d picked up on her tension. Thorson’s arms flailed, but Cale couldn’t see Ella’s expression for the distance and that danged hat. She reined around Thorson and headed downstream toward the Hot Springs Hotel.
Cale hoofed it for the footbridge.
Running in spurs wasn’t the smartest thing he’d ever done, but he couldn’t lose her now. He kept Doc in the corner of his eye, praying Ella wouldn’t kick into a lope and ride all the way into town. At the bridge, he slowed and screwed his hat down tighter.
He didn’t fear heights, but crossing a flimsy, swinging wooden-slatted footpath wasn’t his idea of vertical security. His rope in one hand and the other skimming the thin railing, he ran across the bridge, bucking it harder with every stride.
Ella had reached the front of the hotel, and Cale stopped on solid ground to catch his breath as she approached. A smile lit her face like the Fourth of July, in spite of her ghostly makeup. A prayer of thanks shot from his gut—for her safety and her success.
He resituated his hat and stepped up to Doc, cupping the gelding’s muzzle in one hand as he looked up at Ella. “Nice job.” Confound it, he’d had a mouthful to say earlier, and now could find only two words.
He reached for her.
She reined back.
“I can do it.” No snip. Just a bite of confidence he hadn’t seen in her before. It made his chest tight.
She swung her right leg over, then leaned into the saddle as she freed her left foot from the stirrup and slid to the ground.
Handing him the reins with one hand, she pulled off the hat and wig with the other. “He was a champ.”
Cale stood as close as he could without stepping on her toes, but she didn’t shy away. Just pulled a cloth from her pocket and started wiping her face.
“So were you.” His voice scratched out rough, but he didn’t care. And he didn’t care what she looked like. He stilled her hand and pulled her closer.
Stunned, her lips parted, and her eyes grew wide as he looped his other arm around her and did what he’d wanted to do since snatching her off Main Street.
~
Ella’s mind spun with contradiction—the soft promise of Cale’s mouth and the firm hold of his arm. The weakness in her legs and the strength of her desire.
The smell of him enveloped her in sunshine and leather and earth.
She dropped everything and encircled his waist against all propriety, leaning into the refuge of his very real, very masculine presence. Perhaps she was dreaming.
He lifted his head with a deep moan, and she opened her eyes to his beautiful blue gaze. Emboldened, she fingered his unshaven jaw, and he caught her hand in his own and held her fingers to his lips. The dimple won out and his eyes twinkled.
Her heart danced.
Doc nudged his master, throwing them both off balance, and Cale clutched her to him all the harder. Laughing, he kissed the top of her head, her temples, her cheeks, his breath sending shivers of delight all the way to her booted toes.
“As far as leading ladies go, you leave them all in the dust.”
Movement near the hotel caught Ella’s eye, and she glanced away to see Mabel watching from a corner of the building, wet and deflated, the hotel’s hack driver urging her back to the coach.
Near pity for the woman threatened to steal the moment until Ella remembered what Cale was saying. A smile shot across her face. “Do you say that to all the women who ride your horse?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
His words touched a tender place, and she stepped back but not far. He refused to release her, and the flexing of his jaw muscle hinted at more to come.
“Every single one.”
She lowered her gaze, unwilling to fall any farther into the blue depths. How silly that she should care if he’d let other women ride Doc. A sudden squeeze of his arms drew her eyes to his sober face. No teasing. No dimple.
“You’re that single one.”
The prettiest phrase she’d ever heard.
“You two gonna stand here all day, or you gonna help us load?”
She jerked free at the taunting voice to find Pete hauling his camera over his shoulder with the rest of the company in his wake. She dipped her head, counting on her fringe and leftover powder to hide any telltale blush.
“We’re just tying up some loose ends here.” Cale’s deep voice set her to fussing with her hair and searching for the cloth she’d used earlier.
“Yeah.” Pete laughed outright. “I can see that.”
Mortified, she picked up the wig and hat, straightened her spine, and met Cale’s laughing eyes. No real words of affection had followed his kiss, and she accepted it for what it was—a celebratory moment of triumph for both of them.
“I should be getting back to the studio. But . . .”
“Yes?”
If she were not careful with her words, she’d spill her soul onto the grass at his feet. That would never do. “Thank you for your help. Your encouragement. For such a trustworthy horse and . . .”
His expression would be her undoing, for the laughter had faded into the ebb and flow of longing and restraint, an image of what warred in her very own breast.
Her voice diminished to a whisper. “Thank you for believing in me.”
“I’m not the only one. From what I could see, Thorson was pretty pleased with your performance.”
He’d noticed. She pushed her hand through the sweaty hair at her temple. “Indeed.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, what did he say?”
Her gaze held on Cale’s honest and open face. “He wants to film me in other riding situations.”
“Will you do it?”
She shook her head.
A wrinkle formed between his brows. “Why not? You’re fully capable.”
“I know that now. Because of you.” She must be careful. The ground beneath her was thin at best. “But I don’t want to be an actress. I’m not here to take Mabel’s place, or anyone else’s, for that matter. We’ll be leaving soon, and I’ll be returning to Chicago.”
His eyes dimmed. If she’d shoved a knife into him, the pain could not have shown more clearly.
“When do you leave?”
How quickly triumph crumbled into tragedy. She fussed with the wig, turning it over and over inside the hat, like the emotions churning inside her midsection. “I don’t know. But I imagine we may hear Thorson’s decision today.”
Cale scrubbed his hand across his mouth and kicked at a loose rock near his feet. “Come back to the ranch first. One last time. There’s something I want to show you.”
One last time. A knife opened her own heart and she clutched at her collar.
He took her hand. “I’ll meet you at the studio, find out if Thorson will give you a day. Then we’ll ride to the ranch on Doc, and I’ll bring you back tomorrow.” A smile broke through his somberness. “We did that once before, remember? It’s only five times farther to the ranch than the rodeo grounds, but I’ll let you sit the saddle.”
How could sadness roll from her lips in a soft chuckle? No one but this cowboy had ever been able to lighten her spirit like that. Not even Charles.
“All right. I’ll meet you there.”
With a heated look, he touched the fringe at her cheek, then turned and swung into the saddle—the gallant knight in not-so-shiny spurs who had stolen her heart.
The realization struck her full force as he trotted upstream to a shallow place and crossed the river without incident. She had made a similar crossing—an impossible feat for one so crippled by fear. Yet, in risking the impossible, she’d crossed more than a raging mountain current, and now she found herself on the other side of emotions she’d once thought were gone forever.
Cale and Doc turned for town. She turned for the footbridge.
Her lips throbbed with sweet memory, and she clutched the hat as she crossed the wooden slats, water rushing below her like her past—the same, yet somehow changed in the passing. Last to arrive at the touring cars, she climbed into the one with her clothes and other costumes and quickly checked her satchel for the sewing kit. Relieved at finding it still tucked inside, she fell against the seat back, tired, spent, and happier than she’d been in a very long time. A short-lived happiness, with departure pending, but happiness nonetheless.
The engine chugged to life, and the car lurched forward.
“That was quite a ride you made today.” Slim hung his hat on his knee and flung his arm across the back of the seat.
Ella turned her head away. Sweaty didn’t begin to describe Slim’s condition or aroma. She took a long deep breath of fresher air before facing him. “Thank you. But I’m sure you could have done the same.”
A snorty huff. “I doubt it. Mr. Hutton wasn’t about to let me ride his horse, and I wasn’t about to ride Mabel’s. It was you or nothing, and I think Thorson would’ve had a seizure if you hadn’t stepped up.”
Interesting turn of phrase, in more ways than one, but a topic she didn’t care to discuss. “When do you think we’ll be leaving?”
Slim lowered his arm, a small but welcome blessing.
“I heard him talking to Pete about going back to the Rafter-H one more time to film a few background shots. Scenery, horizon, that sort of thing.”
Hope shot through her veins as the automobile thumped over a rough patch, jarring her teeth and knocking Slim against his side of the car. After what she’d just done for him, surely Mr. Thorson would give her the day, particularly if he was planning to film scenery at the ranch. No costumes required.
She wasn’t sure what made her so giddy—the bumpy road or the possibility of a certain cowboy’s arms around her one last time.
When they pulled up to the studio, that cowboy was waiting in front, his horse’s reins dangling to the street, he himself in the building’s shadow. Slim hopped over the side as soon as the car stopped, and Ella gathered the costumes.
Thorson stepped out of his motorcar and approached Cale, no doubt talking about returning to the Rafter-H. She hurried to the sidewalk, careful not to stumble.
“Word in town is there’s a killer bear out your way. Do you know anything about that?”
Ella’s heart, not her feet, staggered. She’d forgotten about the bear and rustlers and disappearing livestock. And her film. She glanced down the street toward the newspaper office. There might be enough time to get her film developed. But she wanted to hear what Mr. Thorson said, and she couldn’t be both places at once.
~
Cale battled his desire to watch every move Ella made while focusing on what Thorson was saying. He yanked his hat off and scrubbed through his hair. “Something’s stealing cattle, so we’ve got our eyes peeled. But whatever it is strikes at night. Bears don’t typically try anything in broad daylight, and neither do rustlers. If you stay close around the ranch house, you should be all right. Hugh and I are armed at all times, just in case.” And I aim to marry Ella Canaday, so she won’t be leaving with you.
Worried he’d said that last part out loud without realizing it, he watched Thorson’s face for a reaction.
“All right. We’ll be out early tomorrow, just a few of us. We should be able to film what I want by noon. That suit you?”
He jerked a nod. So far so good. The man hadn’t laughed, cussed, or hollered, so Cale’s intentions were safe. He reset his hat and stood taller. “I’d like to take Miss Canaday to the ranch today. She could ride back with you tomorrow. Or I can bring her back in the wagon.”
Thorson’s eyes narrowed and his chin tipped. “So, you got designs on my seamstress?”
Cale swallowed and gathered the explanation he’d prepared, but Thorson clapped him on the shoulder before he could get the words lined up right.
“Looks to me like you’re the one that got her riding. While she’s there, maybe you can talk her into doing a little more of it for our moving pictures.”
Thorson was wrong on two counts, but Cale bit the inside of his cheek rather than give him the details. He touched his hat brim and stepped back. “Tomorrow, then.”
As soon as the director disappeared through the studio door, Ella deserted whatever task had kept her busy at the nearest automobile listening to every word.
Cale smiled in spite of himself. She was as bad as Doc. “How soon can you be ready?”
“I couldn’t quite make out that last—” She clapped her pretty little mouth shut and looked away. Her cheeks turned as pink as a summer rose. “I mean . . . I take it he didn’t mind.”
“He and a couple others are coming out tomorrow. You can ride back with them.” He moved a half-step closer and lowered his voice. “Or I could bring you back in the wagon. That way you could stay longer.”
A shy smile played at her mouth, and if they weren’t standing on Main Street, he’d kiss it right off her lips.
“Well, I need to change clothes—”
“Don’t. You’re dressed just right if we’re riding Doc. And for where I want to take you.”
She glanced down at her loaded arms, then into the studio. “I still have to take care of all this. And there’s one more thing. Two, actually.”
He waited, watching thoughts dart across her face.
“I haven’t had the film developed, so I’d like to stop by the newspaper office and see if they can do that. And I need to get a few things from my hotel room.”
Her cheeks got all pink again and she avoided his gaze.
He knew better than to press that last issue. “Can I take the film for you while you go to your room?”
“You’d do that?”
He couldn’t decide if she was prettier when she smiled or when he caught her off guard. “Absolutely. In fact, I need to stop there anyway and see if the editor will run a notice about a reward for names and information connected to cattle rustlers.” He shook his head and ran a hand over his face. “Should have done that by now, but I got distracted.”
“By a river crossing?” Her innocent look, completely play-acted, dared him to deny it. If they didn’t get on the road, and quick, he’d lose his self-restraint. He pulled at his open collar. “I can take your camera or just the film.”
“It’s right here in my satchel. But let me unload these costumes.”
He followed her into the cluttered studio and waited for his eyes to adjust to the dim interior. No one was around, but voices came from beyond the painted partition. Thorson’s, for one. He itched to leave before the man decided he needed Ella for some chore.
“Here.” She handed him a black cylinder. “Ask the editor if he can develop Verichrome film for a Kodak 3 pocket camera, and if not, see if there is anyone else in town who can.”
She folded his fingers around the film and gave him a soft smile. “I’ll meet you in the Denton lobby.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
