Madeline Beckingham was on the porch, still ruling over a small kingdom, looking over sketches and issuing directions to the men gathered around her.
“Oh, thank God,” she said when she looked up and saw Grace. “They’re on their way from Jackson Airport right now.”
“Don’t worry. I’m quick.”
“I want to look natural. Make me look as though my skin is naturally flawless, even in the sun. Got it?”
“Of course.”
“And you may find a few stray scars near my ears from a medical procedure. Cover them up.”
Madeline was only in her forties, but apparently she’d already had a face-lift. Maybe she had a soft jawline or too much sun damage. Whatever her reasons, the face-lift was a good one. Grace wouldn’t have guessed, but scars were never hidden from makeup artists or hairstylists.
By the time she’d finished Madeline Beckingham’s makeup, Grace felt more herself again. Maybe not ready to take on the world, but ready to take on one shitty ex-boyfriend and a bitchy production assistant. And maybe even an irritable cowboy.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
COLE WAS MUCKING OUT THE LAST of the stalls when the scuff of a boot told him he wasn’t alone.
“You hanging in there?” Easy asked.
Cole didn’t look up. “I’m still upright, ain’t I?”
“Yeah. You don’t look any worse for wear either.”
“Probably because I haven’t done any real work in days.”
Easy snorted. “You’re doing real work now.”
“I’m doing the work of a ten-year-old. Should only take me about twenty years to work my way back up to ranch boss. Thirty if I stay part-time.”
“Cole,” Easy said, one syllable that chastised him for talking back like a child.
Cole heard the scolding in that word and shook his head. He set the head of the rake on the floor and steadied his arm against the handle. When he finally looked at Easy, Cole saw the same man he’d known his whole life. Worn and silver-haired. Small-boned but tough as nails. Nobody had ever given Easy anything. He’d worked for every damn thing he owned. Worked since he was six years old and left with a sick mom and no father.
Cole’s own father had been a good man, but he’d been hard. Yet somehow still run over by life. Easy, on the other hand, had an inherent strength that had never turned brittle. It seemed as though he could make things happen by sheer will alone. Easy and Cole’s father had met at twelve and been friends from then on. Both good men. Both good cowboys. But Cole’s dad had been a bitter ranch hand who’d owned nothing more than his boots and his saddle when he’d died from a heart attack at age fifty-two. Anything else that had ever belonged to him, including Cole’s mother, had been lost somewhere along the way. Even Cole hadn’t been around.
He swallowed hard at that memory. It still made him sick. He’d been out in L.A. with people who didn’t know him and didn’t give a damn. His dad had died alone.
As for Easy, Cole had always thought he’d known Easy as well as he knew his own father. Better, even. But now—hell, he had no idea what he knew anymore.
They stared at each other. “What?” Cole finally asked.
“You want to tell me why you’re so mad?”
He laughed, but the sound was pure anger. “You must be kidding. You’ve basically told me you think I might be a weak, frightened coward hiding out in the mountains from the things that scare me most.”
“I said I’m afraid you—”
“Yeah. I get it. You’re afraid I’m not the man you hoped I’d be. You’re not sure. Fine. That makes me feel better, Easy.”
“That’s not how it is, Cole!”
“Then tell me how it is. Because right now, it feels like a big pile of shit, and I’m not talking about the muck in this stall,” he snarled, tossing the rake on the ground, where it bounced and banged before settling. “A test to see if I’m a real man, huh? To see if I’m worthy of filling your shoes? You should’ve made this easier on yourself. You should’ve listened to my dad from the start. Then you wouldn’t have had any doubt.”
His words fell into silence. Cole felt his cheeks flush and looked away from Easy’s calm stare.
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about it,” Easy finally said. “Your dad was a good man.”
“I know,” Cole said heavily, rubbing a hand over the ache in his chest. “I know that.”
“But he was wrong about you, Cole. You were a hard worker, but you were still a kid. You deserved to take a little time to find your way in the world.”
“I let him down, Easy. And I let myself down, so don’t tell me he shouldn’t have been disappointed. He was a good man, and I—”
“He was a good man. And he was scared to death. He didn’t like seeing this place turn into a playground for rich folk. He watched them change things. He watched them come and go through here, and he was afraid one day you’d go with them.”
Cole pressed his fingers into the ache under his breastbone. “And that’s just what I did.”
“You were gone for all of two months, Cole. That’s a summer vacation.”
“It was long enough to break his heart.”
“You didn’t—”
Cole cut his hand through the air. “I don’t want to talk about this, Easy. I know what happened.”
Easy glared at him, jaw set in a stubborn line. But Cole could be stubborn, too, when he wanted. He met Easy’s glare with his own. Finally, Easy sighed and shook his head.
“Fine. We’ll talk about that later. The bigger issue here is that I don’t want you to throw this opportunity away.”
“What opportunity?”
“That last time, you loved working on that movie.”
Even after everything else, this shocked the hell out of Cole. He felt his jaw drop. He laughed in complete shock. “Are you crazy? Opportunity? To work on a movie? What are you talking about? I’m a cowboy, Goddamn it!”
“You have been, yes. A good cowboy. A great hand. A man to be proud of. But you need to consider the worst here, Cole. Your leg—”
“My leg is fine,” Cole snapped.
“Cole.”
“It’s fine. I can’t even believe you’re bringing it up. In a couple of weeks, I’ll be back out there.”
Not liking the way Easy was looking at him, Cole shook his head and picked up the rake again. “Come on, Easy. If that’s what you’re worrying about, set it aside. Jesus.”
He felt a little strange. Dizzy. He didn’t want to talk about this anymore, but Easy just kept staring.
Cole started to turn away to finish his work, but one of the ancient barn doors swung open and there she was. Madeline Beckingham herself stood in the doorway, hands on her hips.
Cole and Easy were both frozen for a moment, caught by the dramatic sight of dust motes dancing in front of her gilded silhouette.
“Cole Rawlins, I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Are you hiding from me?” She laughed as if the idea were hilariously ludicrous. Cole didn’t crack a smile. “Come on. I need to find a horse to ride out to that little bridge past the tree line.”
“I thought that’s what all the trucks were here for.”
“Documentary shoot,” she said. “A horse is going to look a whole lot better than an SUV. Plus it’s been nearly a year since I’ve ridden, and you know how much I love horses.”
Yeah. She loved horses. Or she loved the romance of them. The drama and style. The same way she loved the cowboy boots and tasseled belt she was currently wearing. Her family had owned a home here when she was a kid, but that didn’t make her a local.
“Come on!” she said, waving both her arms.
Cole glanced at Easy. “You letting her use the horses?”
“If she can ride, I don’t see a problem with it.”
“Great.”
Though everything inside him told Cole to move away from Madeline, he walked toward her.
“You’re a lot more serious than you used to be,” sh
e said, looping her arm through his to turn him toward the distant corral. Seemed they were going to take a leisurely stroll.
“I’m not a kid anymore,” he said darkly.
“Yeah? I thought you were pretty nicely grown-up back then. But I have to admit, I kind of like your new dark and dangerous side.”
He clenched his teeth and kept walking.
“We never got to say goodbye, you know.”
“Somehow, I didn’t think you noticed.”
“Oh, come on, Cole.” She squeezed his arm tighter against her, making sure his muscles pressed into her breast. “You know how much I liked you.”
He did know, as a matter of fact. Because she’d discussed it with her friend during sex. With him. With both of them.
Jesus, he’d thought he’d died and gone to heaven when he’d figured out exactly what the “special date” was. Her girlfriend was in town from London to discuss financing a film, and apparently they liked to have fun together. Lots of fun. Cole had been more than willing, but it had also been…surprising. And strange. They’d talked about him as if he wasn’t there, even as they’d used his body. They’d commented on him, cracked private jokes, told him what they wanted and when they were done.
Strange or not, he’d been happy to contribute. But once the thrill had worn off…
She nudged him to get his attention. “I have a dinner tonight, but why don’t you come by afterward. We can have drinks. Get reacquainted.”
“No,” he said immediately.
“Are you seeing someone?”
He thought of Grace. “No.”
“Then come see me. It’s been a long time. Too long.”
He didn’t say anything in response. He’d already said no. That was the end of it. But Madeline didn’t hear no very often.
“It was good, Cole. God, it was so good. I missed you when you left. So, tonight when you’re not seeing anyone and you start remembering how good it was…” She laughed. “Well, you know where I’m staying.”
He almost asked how many other people would be there. But that would reveal too much. He was damned if he was going to reveal anything at all.
“Oh, I want that pinto!” she said suddenly. “Can I have him?” And that was about as much consideration as she gave men, too.
“Sure. The pinto’s fine. He’s young. He’ll probably be grateful for the exercise.”
The joke went over her head. Or maybe it just hadn’t been very funny.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
GRACE WAS RELIEVED she didn’t have to ride home alone with Eve. One of the preproduction photographers recognized Eve from a photography retreat they’d attended years before. He asked if she wanted to grab dinner, so Grace had ridden home in the backseat, happy to shrink into the corner and pretend she wasn’t there.
Despite her new boss’s reassurances, Grace was still self-conscious about that scene. Out of all the messes she’d managed to get herself into over the years, that confrontation had been the most mortifying moment. Because there was truth in it this time. Because she’d done something really stupid.
She hadn’t meant to take anything from Scott, only what he’d promised her. And then… God. She’d always been able to be arrogant about things people had thrown in her face, because she made very sure that no one ever knew enough about her to injure her. People could say anything they wanted, nobody knew the real Grace Barrett.
But now people knew something real enough to hurt. Lots of people.
When they got to the Stud Farm, Grace murmured a good-night and slid quickly out of the car.
What the hell did it matter anyway?
This place was only a temporary resting point. She didn’t really know these people and never would. She’d leave and they’d remember her as a purple-haired chick with a shady reputation and a grumpy disposition. Hell, a few years ago, the idea would’ve delighted her.
“Must be getting old,” she said as she hurried up the front walk.
“Grace!” a female voice called from the blue dusk beyond her sight. “Is that you?”
“Jenny?”
Jenny emerged from the shadow of the pine tree and waved. “Hey, I’m off early tonight, so I’m glad I caught you! I already left a message for Eve, but I didn’t have your number. Want to get together Sunday evening?”
“Eve?” she asked nervously.
“Yes, we both have birthdays next week, so I thought this would be a fun way to celebrate.”
“By getting together with me? I don’t think so.”
“You promised we’d do makeovers!”
“Oh. I don’t…” She clutched the handle of her makeup kit tighter, afraid her suddenly sweaty hand would lose its grip. “Eve’s my boss. I don’t think she’d want to hang out with me.”
“This is a small town.” Jenny laughed. “It’s pretty slim pickings as far as girlfriends go. Boyfriends, too, for that matter. If we didn’t fraternize, we’d all just stay home. Where’s the fun in that?”
“Oh. I…” Crap. This would be awkward. Even if Eve would’ve said yes yesterday, she wouldn’t say yes today. Why would she want to hang out with someone like Grace? Someone she had to worry might steal her car?
“Please? Come on. You owe me. And you promised. And Sunday’s my only night off this week.”
It would be fine, she told herself. Eve would say no. Of course she would. “Okay. Sure. It sounds like fun.”
“Yea! I’ll give you my address later, all right? I can’t wait!”
“Happy birthday,” Grace said as Jenny waved and disappeared back toward the saloon. “Almost.” She heard Jenny calling goodbye to the people lingering on the saloon porch, and then she heard the distinctive sound of the woman’s muscle car starting. Grace didn’t know enough about cars to know the make, but it was definitely American and old and it was definitely yellow.
That kind of car was almost exclusively driven by men, and Grace liked that about Jenny. That she drove a loud car that looked like it should be used for drag racing. Maybe Grace would buy a car like that someday. Or maybe a motorcycle. She’d like that. She’d wear leather pants and a shiny black helmet. She’d go anywhere she wanted. Fly across the country like a bird.
The idea took hold of her. It grabbed her and held her heart in a fist.
She could buy a bike. As soon as she paid Scott back. She could buy something cheap and go anywhere. Chicago. New York. Toronto.
Anywhere.
The idea of getting back to a big city loosened the fist squeezing her heart. God. She could fade back into the crowd. She could work during the day and then sink into a life apart at night. Where she never saw the same people and never knew anyone. And no one ever knew anything about her.
“God, yes,” she said and sighed. That was what she needed. To be unseen.
For now, she just wanted to get inside and take a shower and collapse. On a secondhand sleeping bag. Well, it was better than a park bench any day. There was a door that locked. Walls to keep her safe.
She glanced at Cole’s door as she walked to her own. She thought of knocking. Thought of simply announcing to him that she needed some stress relief. But she walked to her own door and went inside. She had something to do first.
Grace took out her cell and carefully dialed Scott’s number.
“Yeah?” he answered impatiently.
“What are you trying to do to me?” she ground out.
“Well, hello, Grace.” His familiar voice was tinged with an equally familiar self-satisfaction. “I thought you might decide to finally call.”
“Are you kidding me?” she asked. “Is that what this is about? A phone call?”
“No. This is about getting my money back.”
She bit back the curses she wanted to rain down on him and made herself speak calmly. “I already promised to pay you back. I have a plan, and—”
“Somehow when I found out you’d skipped town without a word, I doubted whether or not your promises were sincere.”
&n
bsp; “They were. I swear. I’m working, damn it.”
“In Wyoming?”
“Yes, in Wyoming! And if you want your money back, it’s probably not a good idea to tell the people employing me that I’m a thief!”
“Grace,” he said as he sighed, sounding exhausted. “You skipped town. You haven’t paid back a dime. And you haven’t worked in months.”
“I’m working right now, and I told you I have another job lined up in a few weeks. And I’m not a thief!”
“I don’t know what you think you are, but my eight thousand dollars is gone and you took it.”
Grace rubbed her hand over her forehead. “I told you, I didn’t mean to. You’d offered to loan me a thousand, and I thought the envelope—”
“I offered that loan when we were still together. Don’t play dumb.”
She swallowed. Whatever Scott’s faults were, he wasn’t stupid. She’d known when she’d “borrowed” that money that the loan offer probably didn’t still apply. That’s why she’d grabbed the envelope and slipped it into her purse without stopping to look at it. He’d never kept more than twelve or thirteen hundred dollars around before. It was just household cash, not a savings account.
“I believed you,” he said. “I didn’t want to think you’d steal from me, but now I find out you’re partying in a ski town—”
“It’s the middle of summer and I’m working! My great-aunt lives here and she gave me a place to stay.”
“I’ve never heard of this aunt before.”
“Yeah, we don’t hang out a lot. She’s seventy.”
“Look, Grace, I’m sorry, but…”
She tried to make herself breathe slowly, but her heart was racing. “But what? Did you file charges?”
He was silent for so long that her hands started shaking.
“No,” he finally said. “But I will if I have to.”
“I gave up a lot for you,” she said past numb lips.
Scott’s laugh sounded genuinely confused. “You got fired and I let you move in. What did you give up?”
Close Enough to Touch Page 15
