Sonora Sundown: Arizona (The Americana Series Book 3)

by Janet Dailey

  "Did you really think you were hidden up there?" he murmured.

  "I wasn't trying to hide," Brandy denied self-consciously, "I was doing some rearranging of the display."

  Glancing warily at Karen, she caught the knowing glitter in her friend's eyes, and was left in little doubt as to what she was thinking.

  "I see, you were just working quietly," he smiled crookedly. "Since you were so busily occupied, maybe I should repeat the invitation I extended to Miss Justin."

  Brandy couldn't admit to eavesdropping. "What invitation was that, Mr. Corbett?"

  Her formal reference to him brought a slight narrowing of his gaze, a silent reprimand to remind her of his previous warning.

  "I offered to obtain a pass for you and Miss Justin so that you'd be permitted on the set while the movie is being filmed. Your friend mentioned that the shop would be closed next Thursday afternoon—I'll arrange it for then if that's satisfactory." The challenge in his expression was undeniable.

  Brandy remembered his parting statement when he visited her home that the next time things would be different. She wanted to refuse the invitation out of sheer perversity, while at the same time she wanted to accept with equal intensity. The conflict must have been written in her face.

  "Of course it's satisfactory," Karen spoke up, her eyes pleading with Brandy not to throw away this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

  "Yes," Brandy agreed with a small, reluctant sigh, "Thursday will be fine."

  "Good." There was a suggestion of arrogant triumph in the faint smile that curved the masculine mouth. "I'll make all the necessary arrangements. Just check in at the gate when you arrive and everything will be taken care of for you."

  "Thank you very much, Mr. Corbett," Karen smiled broadly. "This is really kind of you."

  "It's my pleasure." But the darting look at Brandy reaffirmed what she already knew. Kindness had nothing to do with it. He was proving his point that he always got what he wanted.

  As he wished them goodbye, Brandy realized how very experienced he was at handling women. First he had kept her in suspense for nearly two weeks without contacting her at all. Then, just about the time when she decided she wouldn't see him again and was regretting she hadn't taken advantage of his invitation, he had appeared.

  There had been no grounds to refuse the invitation he offered the second time; Jim had seen to that. He did not suggest a possibly intimate evening. On the contrary, he had invited her girl friend to come along in case Brandy felt the necessity of a chaperone. And secondly, it was a daytime invitation for a tour of the movie set in Old Tucson. Brandy had no doubts that it would be an interesting and informative outing and, by its very nature, innocent.

  He had changed the set of circumstances and she had accepted without a protest. Well, it was what she had been secretly wanting, regardless of how illogical it was. Karen was probably right. It was a chance in a lifetime and she might as well enjoy it.

  If only Thursday afternoon didn't seem so far off, she thought silently. There was too much time to think.

  Chapter Five

  "I'M SO EXCITED! Look at the way I'm shaking." Karen held out a trembling hand to confirm her statement.

  "Relax," Brandy smiled, but the palms of her hands were clammy with nervous perspiration and an army of butterflies was fluttering in her stomach.

  Karen's car was parked in the parking lot with other tourists' vehicles and they were walking to the entrance building that would admit them to Old Tucson, a recreated town of the Old West days.

  "I hope I don't talk too much," Karen sighed, then worriedly, "I hope he hasn't forgotten we're coming today."

  "He hasn't," Brandy assured her promptly.

  "Of course not." There was a wry shake of her Titian head. "Not with you along, he won't forget. Especially when you consider the trouble he went to to get you here. Every time I think about you turning down a date with James Corbett, I become more convinced that you must have had rocks in your head."

  After he had left the shop on Monday, Brandy had told Karen about his visit to her home, hoping to minimize the second invitation. She had been severely scolded for keeping it a secret all this time, and her sanity doubted.

  "We've been all through this before," Brandy protested in self-defense. "Besides, what could I possibly have in common with a movie star?"

  "Who cares, for heaven's sake!" The chiding exclamation was accompanied by an exasperated sigh. "And if you never go out with him, you're never going to know whether you do or not. I only hope you haven't lost him to that Evans girl."

  "I haven't had him, so I couldn't have lost him," Brandy pointed out, but there was a twinge of pain in her midriff.

  Karen ignored the accuracy of that observation. "Maybe they quarreled and he's turning to you for consolation. It might explain why he waited so long before seeing you again."

  "It's possible." All too clearly possible, although the idea that a man as confident and self-possessed as Jim might need consoling did sound unusual.

  As they stepped out of the brilliance of the mid-day sun into the comparative darkness of the small entry building, they had to pause inside the threshold until their eyes adjusted to the dimmer light. An older couple was at the ticket window, so they moved to take their place in line behind them.

  A balding man in an old-fashioned starched white shirt with a garter around one sleeve and red braces down the front smiled blandly as they approached the ticket window.

  "Good afternoon, ladies," he greeted them with professional cheerfulness.

  Brandy's throat became parched, a sudden attack of nerves making her incapable of speech, but Karen suffered no such difficulty.

  "I believe Mr. Corbett left some passes for us?'' she began. "I'm . . ."

  The politeness in his expression was immediately replaced by a friendly warmth. "You'd be Miss Justin and Miss Ames," he identified them before Karen had a chance. The gleam in his light blue eyes lingered on Brandy for a speculative moment. "He told me you would be coming. If you'll wait a few minutes, I'll get somebody to take you through."

  "Thanks, we appreciate that," Karen smiled as they jointly started to move to one side so that they wouldn't hold up the other people waiting in line.

  "Miss Ames," the man's voice halted Brandy, "the picture in the paper didn't do you justice. You're much prettier."

  There was only one photograph he could be referring to, the one taken after she and Jim had been rescued in the desert. Brandy had thought that incident would have been forgotten after all this time, or at least that no one would remember her by name. There was an uncomfortable surge of warmth in her neck at what the man might be thinking at this moment, with the special passes being arranged for them by Jim.

  "Thank you," she responded to his compliment self-consciously, and moved hurriedly away from the window.

  While they waited, she and Karen studied the small billboards with photographs of the more well-known movies and television series that had been filmed in Old Tucson. Only a few minutes passed before the ticket clerk was signaling them to come forward.

  On the other side of the turnstile a man waited, dressed in cowboy gear with a star pinned to his chest and a gun strapped around his hips. The illusion of an Old West town marshal was negated by the dark sunglasses he wore and the walkie-talkie he carried in his left hand. The balding man stepped out of the ticket booth to introduce the girls to their picturesque escort.

  "This is Dick Murphy. He'll take you through to the movie set. Dick," he turned to the man, a bright twinkle in his eyes, "this is Miss Ames and Miss Justin. They're guests of Mr. Corbett, so you take real good care of them."

  "Ladies." The man called Dick Murphy touched the front brim of his hat in acknowledgment, then motioned them through the turnstile. "Follow me, please."

  "We're really getting the VIP treatment, aren't we?" Karen whispered in a faintly giggling voice.

  Brandy gave her a silencing look and didn't reply as they started up t
he path of hard-packed sand to the main street of town. A tall fence hid the parking lot from view, letting them walk back into time with the ageless Tucson Mountains in the distance to form a backdrop for the scene.

  "Since you girls are from Tucson," Dick Murphy spoke, "I imagine you know most of the town was built back in 1939 for the film Arizona. Then it was abandoned for quite a few years."

  "I had heard that," Karen answered. "Actually Brandy . . . Miss Ames is from Tucson. I've only been here for a couple of years. I'm originally from Breckenridge, Colorado."

  "That's in the middle of the Rockies, quite a change of scenery and climate," the man observed with a pleasant smile.

  "You're telling me!" Karen grimaced. Then she glanced around at the tourists wandering along the broad sidewalks. "I've never been out here when they've been filming a movie. How do they keep all the people out of the way?"

  "They close the area from the public when they're shooting a particular scene," he explained.

  Brandy looked curiously ahead of her. "Where are they filming today?"

  "In the little Mexican village area." His head bobbed in an easterly direction to indicate its location.

  At the next narrow road leading in that direction, Dick Murphy turned, walking around the barricade that blocked the road. A security guard was standing on the other side, dressed in similar attire to that Dick wore. The man nodded briefly to the trio as they passed.

  Leaving the main street, the buildings changed from wooden western fronts, painted to look antique and weathered, to the dull tan of adobe brick. Ahead, Brandy could see and hear activity going on. Then, as they drew nearer, the motion and voices stopped, and neither she nor Karen needed to be told that filming had begun.

  Quietly they approached the statuelike group gazing intently at the action going on in front of the cameras. The technicians and onlookers blocked their view of the actors. Cranes held cameras and cameramen aloft, while below more equipment was joined in a complex network of wires.

  Brandy was only absently aware of what was going on. Her concentration was focused on locating Jim Corbett. He might be one of the actors in the scene, but it was also possible that he was watching from the sidelines.

  At the far end she saw him. His shoulder leaned against a brick building, the powerfully defined chin and jaw cupped thoughtfully in his left hand as he watched the scene unfolding. A thumb was hooked in the waistband of his blue levis, one leg slightly bent at the knee in a relaxed pose.

  Yet even with the brim of his brown hat pulled low on his forehead to shade his eyes from the glare of the sun, Brandy could sense the piercing watchfulness of his dark eyes. When he was dressed in Western gear that brought to mind the lawless time of the frontier, the ruthless, dangerous quality about him was heightened.

  Although minus the beard, Jim looked very much like the man she had met in the desert, intimidatingly male and strongly independent. There was gentleness in him, though he had insisted he was no gentleman.

  Her heart skipped a beat as she saw him straighten and turn in her direction. A smile of greeting curved her lips in anticipation of the moment when he would see her, but his gaze didn't encounter hers.

  He started walking in her general direction, the object of his attention between them. Other people milled about, signaling an end of that film take. He stopped behind a man in dark-rimmed glasses with a pen tucked behind one ear, and wearing a white shirt that had seen fresher days.

  Almost instantly the two men were joined by a raven-haired woman, the object of Jim's attention. Brandy could understand why when she saw the low-cut peasant blouse and the creamy-gold shoulders it revealed. A full skirt swung about her ankles, a brilliant shade of red material that complimented her dark looks and artfully molded the sensuous curve of her hips.

  With a sinking heart Brandy recognized the vivaciously beautiful woman as LaRaine Evans, whose name had been romantically coupled with Jim's in the past two weeks. Her arm slipped quite familiarly around his waist, and she bestowed on him a dazzling smile before turning her attention to the second man. By this time Brandy had decided that he was the director of the film, judging by the quiet yet brisk way his orders were being given.

  An animated discussion ensued; at least animated on the woman's part, Brandy qualified. She doubted if the actress was ever anything else but animated. The woman was a black flame, a blaze that could never appear subdued.

  What a pair they made standing together like that, she thought with an envious sigh. Their dark looks complemented each other, each compellingly attractive. No wonder their names were linked—they made a perfect couple.

  Beside her, she was aware of Dick Murphy explaining to Karen what was happening on the set now, but the activity of the film crew didn't interest Brandy. Her whole attention was centered on Jim as she became conscious of a forlorn ache in her heart.

  How foolish she had been to think she might have attracted Jim! She was about to look away in despair when her gaze was met by his. Unconsciously she held her breath, wondering if it was actually her that he was looking at or someone else perhaps standing behind her. There was a barely perceptible nod of his head in acknowledgment before he glanced at the upturned face of the brunette.

  Brandy turned quickly away, not wanting him to realize how much she had wanted Jim to notice her. The irregularity of her breathing was matched by the erratic rhythm of her heart. Yet even with her head averted, her gaze kept sliding back to him.

  Her heart leaped crazily when she saw Jim separate himself from the brunette. She tried frantically to concentrate on what Dick Murphy was telling Karen, but she was only conscious of the tall figure making his way toward them. Although she pretended surprise, she knew the exact instant he reached them.

  "I see you made it safely here." His dark eyes mocked her less than genuine expression.

  "Yes, we did." Brandy smiled nervously. "Thank you for inviting us. Karen and I are really finding it all fascinating." She immediately included her friend in case Jim might think that she had ever imagined the invitation had been issued more for herself than for her and Karen together.

  "Oh, yes," Karen agreed enthusiastically. "Dick—Mr. Murphy has been explaining everything to us. I always knew movie-making was complex and technical, but the fine detail of it all escaped me."

  "I hope you find the rest of your tour equally informative,'' Jim stated dryly as he noted the faint pink in Brandy's cheeks. Then his attention shifted to their escort. "Thanks for looking after them for me, Dick."

  "Any time, Jim," the man replied, touching his hat brim as he wished each of the girls goodbye.

  Brandy cast an apprehensive glance at Jim, realizing that he would act as their guide. When he had issued the invitation at the shop, she had thought that might be the case. Later she had dismissed it, arguing that he would probably be working himself. The knowing glint in his eyes said he knew exactly what was going on in her mind.

  "He's good-looking, isn't he?" Karen observed with a resigned sigh. Brandy glanced at her girl friend in alarm, then realized she was referring to Dick Murphy and not the disturbing man standing beside her. "Too bad he's wearing a wedding ring," she added, staring after the departing figure with a wistful expression on her face. She looked at Brandy, a wry grimace pulling up one corner of her mouth. "But then that's just my luck, isn't it?"

  "I think you could put Dick on the eligible list," Jim told her in a dryly amused tone. "He lost his wife a year ago in a car accident."

  "That's too bad." Karen murmured with genuine sincerity, but a gleam of hope appeared in her brown eyes.

  "Aren't you working today?" Brandy fought to maintain her composure that was fast disintegrating under his mocking regard.

  "Not today." The lines around his mouth deep-cried. "I thought I would volunteer my expert services to show you around."

  "That's kind of you," Brandy said self-consciously.

  "Isn't it?" he mocked.

  "Darling!" A female voice interru
pted them, all husky and warm, vibrating with a sensual undertone. LaRaine Evans was cuffing her arm possessively through Jim's, totally ignoring Brandy and Karen as she claimed his attention. "How about joining me in something tall and cold and wet?"

  Up close, the actress was even more stunningly beautiful than she had appeared at a distance. Dancing eyes of dark velvet offered an entirely different invitation as she gazed at Jim. He didn't attempt to deny her claim of ownership.

  "Sorry." A mockingly indulgent smile edged his mouth. "Not this time. I have guests." He looked pointedly to Brandy and Karen.

  "Guests?" LaRaine Evans echoed, rounded brown eyes swinging to them with open curiosity. The request for an introduction couldn't have been more obvious if she had stated it.

  A cynically humorous light entered Jim's eyes as he obliged. "LaRaine, this is Karen Justin and Brandy Ames," he introduced. "This talented and beautiful actress is one of my co-stars, LaRaine Evans."

  "And a friend, darling," the brunette laughed throatily to coyly insinuate a closer relationship between them.

  Brandy's stomach churned into a ball of painful knots at the intimate look the actress gave him. The woman was as subtle as a steamroller.

  "Whatever." Jim shrugged, refusing to attach a label to their relationship. There was a faint tightening of the brunette's mouth, as if his noncommittal reply displeased her. It lasted for a fleeting second and was gone.

  "Brandy—that's a very unusual name." Artificially long lashes swept up as LaRaine Evans turned her attention to Brandy.

  "Yes, it is unusual," Brandy agreed without offering any explanation for her parents' choice. There was little, except that her mother had liked it.

  "Of course!" A smile flashed across the brunette's face. "I know why it's so familiar now. You must be the girl who spent the night on the desert with Jim."

  The way she said "girl" made Brandy feel that she had worn her first pair of nylons last week. Temper flared briefly in her turquoise green eyes before she veiled it and glanced at Jim.

  "Yes, that's right," she admitted, a hint of suggestive warmth in her voice. She deliberately didn't add any more, guessing that the actress's imagination was vivid enough to paint whatever picture she wanted.