Her eyes widened. “It was you? The blanket?” Her mouth opened and for a moment it seemed she’d try to brush it off with a joke. But she gave a resigned sigh, her shoulders slumping. “Thank you. I’m sorry for barging into your barn like that. I really didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
“And now you do,” he said.
*
Emily tugged at the taps, twisting until water streamed onto the concrete floor of the wash stall. The spray was discolored from years of nonuse but that soon cleared. And the hot water felt wonderful on her hands.
It didn’t feel so great on her toes though. She backed away from the deepening puddle but already her boots were wet. The floor sloped unevenly and water pooled beneath the tap instead of flowing to the drain. It might be better to hose the bay’s leg outside, rather than tie him in the wash stall and risk flooding the aisle. But she’d worry about that later.
Right now, she was simply delighted to have running water. And possibly a real bed.
She glanced toward the apartment door where Dan and a white-haired man from set construction were cutting off a padlock. Dan’s eyes met hers and he gave a thumbs-up. She turned off the faucets and hurried to join them.
“Careful of mice,” the man said with a grimace. He dropped the severed padlock into his toolbox, closed the lid and walked out of the barn.
Dan pushed open the apartment door and climbed the narrow steps.
“Has this place been empty long?” she asked, following, but keeping a wary watch for rodents.
“Apparently twenty years,” Dan said. “Nobody used this apartment after Reckless turned incorrigible and was moved to the main barn.”
“Too bad he didn’t have a trainer like you,” she said. “He might have made the Derby.”
Dan smiled over his shoulder. “Trying to flatter me?”
“Maybe.” She smiled back. She didn’t know what it was that made her feel so relaxed, but she certainly enjoyed his company. “I do wonder what was bothering Reckless,” she added. “My friend believes he missed his groom.”
“A horse’s problems can be physical, mental or emotional,” Dan said. “Sometimes all three. The movie touches on the groom quitting but Anthony is letting the audience decide. Unfortunately, no one will ever know why she left.”
Dan paused at the top of the steps, surveyed the room, then glanced back at her. “What do you think? Is this okay for a night or two?”
Emily just gaped, surprised he’d even asked. This place was stunning. A spacious sitting room included French doors that opened onto an intimate balcony. The white furniture still looked new and a throw pillow with a bay horse head, obviously handmade, lay on the sofa. A chair had been tugged over by the balcony where the view encompassed the entrance to the barn.
“It’s beautiful,” Emily said. “But it feels like someone still lives here.”
“Hardly. The only thing left is dust.” Dan ran a hand along the top of the railing then held up the tip of his finger for her inspection.
“Dust is fine,” she said, still glancing around in awe, but unable to shake the feeling they were intruding. She tugged off her wet boots and stepped gingerly onto the pristine hardwood floor.
They explored together, checking out a solitary bedroom with cream-colored curtains and the large bed stripped of sheets, a bathroom empty of everything except a half-roll of toilet paper, and the sterile kitchen with granite counter and unplugged fridge.
“Guess it really is empty,” she said. But it didn’t feel empty and a little shiver ran down her back. “This is great,” she added quickly.
“Ask Lizzie for some bedding,” Dan said, bending down to plug in the fridge. “The wranglers have already been fixed up and there are plenty of sheets and blankets.” His gaze drifted over Emily’s soggy socks. “How did your feet get so wet?”
“The wash stall wasn’t draining,” she said. “It might be better to hose outside.”
“The horse will like that better anyway. Just be sure to keep him from jumping around and hurting his leg.” He scrolled though his messages then looked up, his eyes glinting with anticipation. “Your scene is a go for tomorrow. I’ll have a wrangler bring Bruno to the pen. It’s time for your rearing rehearsal.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Keep your eyes on Bruno,” Dan said. “No, you’re too close.” His hand settled on Emily’s shoulder, and he tugged her back a step.
“This distance is good,” he said, his minty breath fanning the top of her hair. “This is the scene where Hamilton realizes something is terribly wrong with Reckless. You’re leading the horse from the barn. He goes up in the air. Keep your hand on the lead line.”
Emily’s heart pounded but she was more unsettled by Dan’s touch than the big horse standing three feet away. She couldn’t recall ever being so acutely aware of a man. “Should I look scared?” she asked, trying to ignore his proximity and focus instead on Bruno.
“Act natural. The cameras will be close. Anthony might put one beneath the horse. Or he may go with the back of your head or even a silhouette shot.”
Emily nodded. But the back of her head or a silhouette... Would Jenna be able to recognize her?
“Don’t think of the lights and cameras,” Dan went on. “It’s just you and the horse.” His warm hand moved from her shoulder to her hip. “I’ll be right here. Just ignore me too.”
She gulped. It was impossible to ignore him, not the way his touch made her skin tingle. Even her breath had turned shivery.
It was also hard to ignore Lizzie’s presence. The Aussie was definitely shooting her the stink-eye. And cow eyes at Dan. Of all the handlers who might have delivered Bruno, it was a downer that Lizzie had come, ostensibly to supervise the young wrangler with Bruno. But if Dan was aware of Lizzie’s infatuation, he hid it well.
“All set?” he asked.
Emily nodded, determined to be unfazed by Lizzie’s hostility—it would be good practice for the director tomorrow. She kept her gaze locked on Bruno, waiting for the signal. Dan’s arm moved.
Bruno’s ears flattened. His head lifted and he abruptly rose on his hind legs, towering over her like a mountain of muscle. Adrenaline jolted her, and she jerked back.
“Don’t step back. Give him slack but make it look taut,” Dan said, his voice low and calm. “Keep the line from tangling in his feet.”
Emily adjusted the lead line, far too busy now to worry about facial expressions. Bruno literally hung above her, blotting the sun with his huge body. He was so close she could feel his primal energy, smell his salty sweat, see the glint of nails in his shoes.
He dropped to the ground, shaking his head, ears still flat and angry.
“Good,” Dan said.
Bruno’s ears shot forward. Emily assumed Dan was talking to her. However, he stepped past and stroked the horse’s neck with a gentle hand, speaking in such a soft and approving voice, Emily’s insides turned mushy.
“Do you give him a treat now?” she asked, slightly breathless.
“Some horses I do. But this guy works for love.”
Bruno tilted his head. His eyelids lowered in bliss as Dan’s ripped arms moved along the horse’s neck, his fingers rubbing the crest of Bruno’s mane. For a moment, Emily wished she were the horse. Her gaze flickered to Lizzie, their eyes locking in tacit understanding of Dan’s blatant sex appeal.
“You did well,” Dan said, finally turning to Emily. “Anthony will go over the scene with you in the morning. Hopefully we’ll get it on the first take.”
“And tomorrow night I can look after the horses in the stud barn,” Lizzie called. “I juggled the schedule and freed up some time. It won’t be necessary to use outsiders.”
Outsiders? Emily’s mouth opened but she swallowed her retort. Mouthing off at Dan’s wrangler might make her feel better, but it wouldn’t gain any extra work. And maybe if they didn’t get the scene on the first couple of takes, she’d have to stay for another day.
On the other ha
nd, if she didn’t do a good job, Dan would replace her. It should be easy to find a background performer to hold a rearing horse, especially a well-trained animal like Bruno. Girl number two at the skills audition had looked competent, and her makeup had been flawless.
“Any questions before I go?” Dan asked Emily as he pulled out his phone.
“You better hurry,” Lizzie called. “Anthony needs you. I can finish up here.”
It was obvious Lizzie wanted to keep her away from Dan. And the knowledge that this scene would likely be finished tomorrow filled Emily with regret. This was the only job she’d had in a month. Lizzie might want her gone, but Emily was determined not to climb on the bus without a fight. She pulled in a fortifying breath.
“Just one question.” Emily turned her back to Lizzie and gave Dan a flirtatious smile. “I couldn’t help but notice Bruno is a gelding. Yet Reckless was a stallion. Won’t the cameras show that he’s missing the full package?”
“Geldings are more even-tempered,” Dan said, not looking up from his phone. “Anthony is careful with camera angles. I only use a stallion when absolutely necessary.”
“And mares?” she asked. “Do you have much use for…females?”
“Absolutely.” He glanced up, amusement playing around the corners of his mouth. “But they can be moody. Especially in heat. I try to avoid them.” He turned his attention back to his phone, as if aware she was flirting but wasn’t at all affected.
“Good policy.” She forced a flippant laugh. Well, that didn’t go far. Clearly he was used to deflecting women, and of course he wouldn’t be interested in a nobody like her. But even if there were no stalls to clean, there must be something she could do. Two days of work would never cover Jenna’s steeplechase weekend.
She glanced over her shoulder. Lizzie sneered as if amused by such a pathetic attempt. Emily turned back to Dan, spurred by the wrangler’s smugness.
“One last question,” she said, remembering Judith’s comment that Dan was a perfectionist. “I noticed Bruno doesn’t have racing plates.”
Dan’s head shot up. “You noticed his shoes?”
She nodded. “When his feet were waving in my face, they were hard to miss. Aluminum race plates are shiny. But he had dull steel shoes. The real Reckless would have worn plates.”
Dan rubbed his jaw. “Valid point,” he said.
“You need to go, Dan,” Lizzie called. “Anthony just sent another text. The big dinner—”
Dan raised his finger in such an authoritative gesture, Lizzie silenced. Even Bruno jerked to attention. “Anything else?” Dan asked, his laser attention on Emily.
“That’s all for now,” she said, “but with more time, I’d probably pick up other things. Most people wouldn’t notice such tiny details. It’s just that I’ve worked with racehorses for so long.”
He smiled then. “How old are you, Emily? Twenty-four?”
“Twenty-five,” she said quickly. “But I’ve been around the track since I was a kid.”
Completely true. The school bus had dropped her off at the Center’s gates; most of her homework had been done in an empty stall close to the track. The grooms always dropped by to visit and discuss the antics of their favorite horse. Occasionally they’d even bought her a Coke from the pop machine. She’d always envied the kids who lived in town, but country life hadn’t been so bad. Jenna had made sure of that.
“Have you been around a starting gate much?” Dan stepped closer. Bruno followed.
“Absolutely.” She gave a hasty nod. The gate had made excellent monkey bars until her back flips had spooked a horse and Wally had proclaimed it off limits. And she’d definitely been around the starting gate a whole lot the summer she’d turned sixteen and dated one of the exercise riders.
“Why don’t you hang around a few more days?” Dan said. “Maybe you’ll spot something we can make more authentic.”
“So, like I’d be a race advisor or something?”
“Sure, we can call it that.” His blue eyes glinted with amusement. “But the salary remains the same. You’ll be on my payroll, same rate as non-union background.”
She tilted her head, pretending the matter required a great deal of thought. “I suppose I could stay for a bit. Fortunately my agent said I’m free the entire week.”
“How very fortunate,” he said.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Find a ladder and knock down those cobwebs,” Lizzie said, scowling at the rafters. “This barn has been empty too long.”
“Okay,” Emily said. “I’ll do that after supper.” She’d already cleaned the stalls, walked the bay gelding for twenty minutes, hosed and wrapped his front legs and her stomach was growling. The day had been hectic.
She also felt rather lightheaded, no doubt from lack of food. It had been more than twenty-four hours since eating the doughnut in the background tent. This morning’s coffee had given a temporary boost but if she’d known it was her main meal, she would have splurged and added milk.
She cast a worried look out the door. Dusk was falling and the dining room would be closing soon. Workers with trailers had their own kitchens, but she didn’t have that luxury.
“Guess I’ll bring the chestnut in now,” Emily said. “He’s been out awhile and the bay sure misses him.” She draped the horse’s lead line over her shoulder. “What are the horses’ names? Dan only refers to them by description.”
“That’s because he never gets attached to contracted horses. Or to people. Everything goes back when the movie’s finished.” Lizzie gave Emily a pointed stare. “Everything.”
Emily pretended to misunderstand Lizzie’s clumsy warning. “And knowing their names makes it tough?” she asked. “Gosh, I’ll just have to make up my own. Think I’ll call them Barney and Ted.”
“Don’t be stupid.” Lizzie’s nostrils flared. “You can’t just make up names. Besides, it doesn’t matter. Your little scene will be over tomorrow.”
The ‘stupid’ comment rankled but Emily had already discovered that the more she smiled, the more annoyed Lizzie became. And the sparring was kind of fun. “My acting scene might be over tomorrow,” Emily said with a smile, “but the race advisory job will continue. And I’m looking forward to working closely with Dan…very closely.”
Lizzie yanked off the bay’s halter. “What are you talking about?” She flung the halter onto the hook so aggressively that Barney flinched. “Dan knows the race industry inside out. What can he possibly need from you?”
“I don’t know.” Emily shrugged. “Maybe you should ask him.” She straightened the halter on the hook, annoyed Lizzie had startled this kind-eyed horse with her temper flare. “I’m going to bring Ted in now.”
“Fine,” Lizzie snapped. “But get rid of those cobwebs now. They can cause all sorts of respiratory problems. Plus they’re a fire hazard. If you’re looking after these horses, you better do it right.”
“No problem,” Emily said, trying to pretend she didn’t mind hanging around the barn a few more hours. I’m not hungry anyway.
She strode to the paddock and clipped the lead line on the chestnut’s halter. Ted seemed content with his new name and eager to return to his stall although grass stains on his back showed he’d enjoyed his brief freedom.
By the time they reached the barn, Lizzie was already stalking toward the path. It didn’t seem a good time to ask for sheets and blankets. Besides, it was obvious Lizzie wouldn’t grant her any favors. A part of Emily even empathized with the wrangler. It would be impossible to have a boss like Dan and not fall a little bit in love.
She gave a wistful sigh. If she’d met him when she was better dressed, with full war paint, he might have shown more interest. Even if it were only a fling. Obviously though, he expected perfection. And guys like him deserved it.
Ted gave her elbow an impatient nudge and she slipped off his halter, watching as he dove into his hay. Barney, however, stretched his head over the door, more interested in a pat than his supper.
Of the two, the bay was friendlier and more eager to please. Barney seemed like a horse who might have performed a few tricks.
On impulse, she waved the halter. “Take it, boy.”
He looked at her, ears pricked.
She waved the halter, extending it in her hand. “Get it.”
He reached down and picked up the halter, holding it with an uncertain expression before dropping it in the aisle.
“Good boy.” Grinning, she scratched his neck. Holding a halter wasn’t much of a trick but maybe they could build on it. A girl had to start somewhere. But she needed to let him know he was doing it correctly.
She walked outside and picked some grass, filling her pockets with the greenest blades she could find. When she returned, Barney was waiting, his chest pressed against the door.
She didn’t know what cues his former trainer had used but after only four attempts, promptly rewarded with grass, Barney grabbed the halter the instant she told him to ‘get it.’
“You’re a smart fellow.” She scratched him beneath the jaw, pumped with success. Tomorrow she’d teach him to lift a brush from her hand. With a few more tricks, Dan might call the horse by name. Maybe even keep him. Being shipped to Dan’s ranch seemed a far better fate than being turned over to a stock contractor. Especially considering Barney’s injury and his labor-intensive care.
She reluctantly left the obliging horse and pulled out a broom and stepladder. There were too many chores remaining to dally longer. Besides, if cobwebs weren’t good for Barney and Ted, she didn’t want a single one left hanging.
*
Emily pressed a hand against her rumbling stomach and scanned the deserted dining room. Her mouth watered. Hot food had been served recently—the air still smelled of barbecue chicken—but she’d obviously spent too much time knocking down cobwebs. Only odors remained. Except for gleaming coffee machines the tent was empty.
Swallowing her dismay, she reached beneath the table and pulled out a paper cup. At least there was coffee. She debated the wisdom of caffeine free, but her head and body ached, and she chose a pod of dark roast.
STUDS AND STILETTOS (Romantic Mystery) Page 9
