“I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Mace.’’ Maddie squinted at the truck, shading her eyes from the mid-morning sun. “Besides, I thought Jeb lost his ranch. How’d he even get this job?”
I shrugged. I didn’t trust my voice. The fact my stomach was in my throat would surely make the words come out funny. Plus, I didn’t want to get into a big discussion with my sister about Jeb, the first male to pluck out my heart and stomp on it. Even after all these years, I always ended up making excuses for him, which made me feel like a sap.
Marty smoothed her blond hair behind her ears. “I heard he’s been working hard to rebuild Bar J. He’ll probably do whatever he can to earn a few extra bucks.’’
“Humph!’’ Maddie snorted. “So he can squander them again, no doubt. What a loser.’’
“Remember Maddie, ‘Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.’’’
Mama was capable of chastising Maddie with a verse from Matthew, even as she reached over and rearranged my hair. Then she licked her finger and rubbed at my cheek. “I can’t tell if that’s dirt or manure, Mace. Either way, it’s not a good look.’’
I jerked away. “Like I care, Mama. This isn’t a fashion shoot. I’m working here.’’
“Humph!’’ Maddie glared in Jeb’s direction, and crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, you care, sister. That’s the problem.’’
I shrugged again, in what I hoped was a carefree manner.
We were gathered at the corral. The crime scene investigators had finished, even removing the section of fence where we’d found Norman. The movie set’s carpenters hurriedly patched it with similarly weathered wood. Mama and my sisters came to help me feed and water the horses. We also worked on preparing saddles and other tack for an upcoming scene.
Mama hadn’t done much actual work, unless you count sitting on the fence and telling the rest of us how we were doing everything wrong.
At the corral, I’d filled them in on the details of Jeb’s late-night call, omitting the specifics of what I’d been doing in my bedroom just before the phone rang.
“What’d Carlos say?’’ Marty asked.
“Not a thing,’’ I said. “I ended up walking the phone out to my porch, but you know how small my cottage is. Jeb and I only talked for a few minutes, but I know Carlos heard every word on my end. When we rang off, I remember I called Jeb by name.’’
“You can be sure Carlos heard you. That man doesn’t miss a thing.’’ Clucking her tongue, Mama shook her head. “Too bad, too. It finally seemed like Carlos and you were becoming a real couple.’’
“Nothing happened, except Mace got a call from an old boyfriend,’’ Marty said. “Carlos won’t treat that like it’s the end of the world.’’
Maddie raised her eyebrows at our little sister. “Really? There’s already bad blood between Jeb and Carlos. Don’t you remember how they went round and round over Mace, the summer Mama found her corpse?’’
“That poor man in my convertible trunk had a name, girls. Please don’t call him my corpse.’’
When I told Mama and my sisters about the phone call, I didn’t add that when I finished talking to Jeb, Carlos was asleep. Or pretending he was. I tiptoed into the bathroom for a quick shower. When I finished, he was gone. He hadn’t even said goodbye.
Now, here was Jeb, climbing from the driver’s seat of his truck. We watched as he swung out a long, lean leg. One foot, in a worn Ariat boot, hit the ground. The other soon followed. When he stood up and adjusted those tight jeans over the long lines of his body, my traitorous heart skipped a beat. Dammit.
I heard a low whistle beside me. “Say what you will about the man. He still looks like sex on a stick.’’
“Mama!’’ The three of us gasped at once.
“I can’t help it, girls. I’m only stating the obvious.’’
A frown creased Maddie’s brow. “Just how close did he say the two of you would be working?’’
“Not that close. Once he delivers the cattle, I bet Jeb leaves his ranch hands behind to see to what the movie people need.’’
“Riiight,’’ Maddie said. “With Kelly Conover and Jesse Donahue here on the set …’’
“Not to mention the beautiful Mace Bauer …’’ Marty added.
“… still mooning over her long-ago affair with Jeb; star-crossed lovers since they were teenagers.’’ Maddie clasped a hand over her heart, or at least where her heart would be if she had one.
I didn’t want to give Maddie the satisfaction of looking, but my eyes defied my brain. A teenager no more, Jeb was all man as he unloaded his cows. Brangus, a mixture between Angus cattle and the heat-tolerant Brahman, were big and beefy. They looked nothing like the rangy half-wild creatures known as Florida Cracker cattle, which would have been true to the period of Patrick Smith’s book. Then again, not much about the movie seemed true to the book.
I could feel Maddie’s eyes on me as I watched Jeb. She took her hand from her heart to wag a finger. “Mark my words: That man will stick around, and that’ll mean trouble for you.’’
_____
Greg Tilton was on horseback out in the pasture, rehearsing for his scene. He hadn’t lied when he said he was experienced. His hand was easy on the reins, and he had a good seat on the Quarter horse we’d saddled for him.
He was cast as Toby’s father. The scene would have him racing at a gallop to the corral, where Toby would be waiting. Tilton was costumed in frontier garb, Florida cowman style: lace-up boots to keep out the snakes, a slouchy hat to repel the rain, and a braided leather cow whip coiled on his saddle.
Of course, he should have been riding a little Cracker horse, like in the book. But Tilton was a big, muscular guy. He’d dwarf such a small horse. Plus, the horse’s gait is like a pogo stick. Bouncing around the saddle like a little kid’s jack-in-the-box wouldn’t befit a movie hero.
Pulling up at the corral, he swung easily out of the saddle. Mama and my sisters were a distance away at the supply trailer, supposedly measuring out horse feed for the evening. But I saw them whispering and pointing. I hoped none of them asked Tilton for an autograph.
As everyone stood around waiting for lights, camera, and director to be ready, Tilton leaned against the rustic fence with the horse’s reins in one hand, his hat in the other. He looked posed: The Florida Cowhunter on the Open Range.
Suddenly, a warm breath of air on the back of my neck distracted me from stargazing. I caught the faintest scent of sweat and hay, with just a hint of cow manure. I knew exactly who was there.
“Boo!’’
My heart pitter-patted, dammit.
“Your cattle all settled?’’ I asked.
“Easy breezy,’’ Jeb answered. “How’d you know it was me?’’
“I’m psychic.’’
He came around to face me. “How about the horses? Any trouble?’’
“Not unless you count the body we found draped over their corral yesterday.’’
“Yeah, I heard about that. Guess somebody wanted to make sure he’d be seen.’’
“I wish they’d have done it someplace else. People are starting to think Mama and I are some kind of Grim Reapers.’’
“This is the second murder y’all have been mixed up in, right?’’
“I wouldn’t say we’re ‘mixed up’ in this one. We were just unlucky enough to stumble on the body. And it’s the fourth.’’
Jeb took a step backward and whistled. “Four? Now, you know I love being around you, Mace. But maybe you shouldn’t stand so close.’’
I’d have been offended, but his smile took any meanness out of the jibe. And what a smile it was: white teeth in a face tanned by hard work in the Florida outdoors; sunlight dancing in the golden flecks of his eyes. There went my heart again. It had a mind of its own, dammit.
“Hey, you’re the one who came over here to me.’’ I put my hand in the center of his chest and gave a gentle push. “I don’t recall issuing you an invitation to stand close.�
�’
He grasped my wrist, and pulled my hand tighter against his chest. I couldn’t help but notice the heat of his body, and how lean and hard the muscles felt beneath the snap buttons of his cowboy shirt. I remembered how easily those buttons popped open.
Jeb leaned toward me. His lips were inches from my ear, his breath hot against my cheek. “Since when do old friends like us need an invitation?’’
Over his shoulder, I caught a glimpse of Mama and my sisters. The three of them scowled at me like Puritans preparing to pin on a scarlet letter. I turned, but not before I saw Maddie mouth You’re crazy. Mama shook her head at me. Marty bit her lip and looked worried.
As soon as I got the chance, I was going to tell them there was nothing to worry about. Yes, I was still physically attracted to Jeb. He was my first lover, and he was still flat-out gorgeous. But he was also more trouble than he was worth. And I was in love with Carlos. I’d never risk what I had with him for a quick roll in the hay.
“Back off, cowpoke.’’ I pushed him, hard enough to show I meant it this time.
Surprise played across his face. I was a little hurt I didn’t see disappointment there, too. I wanted him to give up on me, but not that easily.
“I thought we were friends.’’ His mouth drooped down at the corners.
“ ‘Friends’ being the operative word. I’m involved with someone, Jeb.’’
“That Spanish cop from Miamuh. Still?’’
“Yeah. His name’s Carlos. And he’s Cuban, though he speaks Spanish.’’
“It’s serious?’’
I thought that over for a moment. An image from last night came into my mind, of us spooned together in my bed. A warm feeling washed over me. Desire, yes, but contentment, too.
“Yeah,’’ I said, “we’re serious.’’
“Lucky guy.’’
“Lucky me. Which is why I’m trying hard not to screw things up,’’ I said. “I’ll ask you to respect that.’’
Jeb put up his hands. “I surrender. You’re the boss, and your wish is my command.’’
“Yeah, right.’’ We both laughed, falling into an easy familiarity. “So how come you’re still here? I thought for sure you’d deliver the stock and head back to the ranch. You still have that former prom queen at home, waiting on you to marry her?’’
He took off his hat; ran a hand through his dusty blond hair. “Yeah, but I don’t think I’m the marrying kind, Mace.’’
“No duh.’’
Avoiding my eyes, he glanced around at the assembled actors and extras, the camera operators and grips. My gaze followed his. Paul Watkins was deep in conversation with Toby, and Barbara was right beside the two of them. Tilton’s horse, still saddled, was inside the corral, though I didn’t see the action star. Jeb’s eyes continued roaming the set.
“Looking for somebody?’’
He grinned, a bit sheepish. The cowboy hat went back on his head. “I thought maybe Kelly Conover might be around.’’
“You’re a hound, you know that?’’
“I never claimed to be anything but,’’ he said.
Finally, a call went out across the set. “Settle, everybody!’’
High above us, a huge light on a crane powered on, washing the scene with brightness. A clipboard-carrying production assistant rushed toward me, speaking into the radio headset she wore. She stopped, and said to me, “They’re shooting Toby’s scene, where he’s waiting for his father at the corral. That horse with the saddle has to be moved out of there.’’
“No problem,’’ I said. “I’m on it.’’
As I started toward the corral, Jeb brushed my cheek with his lips. “For old time’s sake,’’ he whispered.
I kept walking. Maddie glared. Marty gnawed her lip. Mama crooked a finger and beckoned me toward them. I shook my head and continued toward the horse, grateful that at least Mama wasn’t yelling this time.
My fingers rose to my cheek. The spot Jeb kissed felt warm. Dammit.
I was almost to the gate of the corral when a loud boom sounded from above. In an instant, all hell broke loose. The horses spooked, racing in a panic around the small enclosure. People started screaming. Shadows seemed to be falling toward me from the sky. I heard Mama’s voice rise above the others: “Watch out, Mace!’’
I didn’t know whether to run or duck. The space around me suddenly got hot. Involuntarily, my eyes squeezed shut. An explosive force struck from one side, propelling me off my feet and into the air.
I coughed, gasping for breath. A suffocating weight crushed my body. When I opened my eyes, all I saw was dirt. My mouth was full of it. Had I already died and been buried in the earth? But then slowly, the smell of hay and sweat and a trace of manure reached my nose.
“Are you all right?’’
Jeb’s voice floated toward me from somewhere above. Maybe I wasn’t dead after all, since I suspected Jeb was unlikely to be upstairs with the angels. It took a moment to orient myself. The weight I felt holding me down was Jeb’s body on mine. The rodeo champion buckle on his belt dug into my right hip. I shifted slightly to look out over the ground. My head moved, which was a good sign. I saw three familiar pairs of shoes leading a pack of feet running toward me. Marty’s boots looked like doll shoes. Maddie’s were the same style, but bulldozer-sized. Mama sported sling-back sandals in raspberry patent leather.
Unless there was a shoe store in heaven peddling sherbet-colored footwear, I was still alive. Jeb rolled off me.
“Mace?’’ Jeb asked again.
“Yeah, I guess I’m okay,’’ I answered slowly. “What happened?’’
He sat up. Shaky, I stayed where I was, stretched out on the ground.
“That big light up there blew up.’’ He pointed skyward, to the crane above our heads.
I’d barely begun to comprehend what he said when the crowd of feet arrived. Marty led the way. “Oh, sister, I was so scared!’’
Mama was next. “Jeb, tell me my baby’s not hurt.’’
Maddie, panting, brought up the rear: “I predicted trouble for Mace the moment I saw him on this movie set.’’
“Hush!’’ Mama scolded her. “Jeb probably saved your sister’s life.’’
“I wouldn’t say that, ma’am.’’ Modestly, he ducked his chin and reached across the ground for his cowboy hat.
“Oh, yes you did,’’ Marty said. “You were just like the action hero in a movie, shielding Mace from harm.’’
“Hello?’’ I gave a weak wave. “Remember me?’’ I heard a murmur of voices in a growing crowd. Someone said, “The wrangler’s alive. Radio Barbara, and tell her there’ll be another delay.’’
Marty crouched beside me. “Of course we remember you! Look at these shards of glass all around you, Mace.’’
Pieces of the light, heat-blackened and jagged, littered the ground. The largest had fallen exactly where I’d been standing. I raised myself up to my elbows to get a better look. When I turned my head to the left, pain stabbed at my neck and right shoulder. I grabbed at it. “Ow!’’
Jeb put his hand on the ache, gently massaging. “I hit you like an offensive lineman. You’re really gonna hurt in the morning.’’
From my vantage point on the ground, I saw a highly polished pair of men’s loafers working their way through the crowd. I recognized them from last night, when they’d been lined up under my bed.
Just then, Jeb put an arm around my waist, pulling me to a standing position. My eyes traveled up from those loafers to dark gray dress slacks, to the badge buckled on the belt at Carlos’s waist. Still a little weak at the knees, I swayed. Jeb clutched at me, pressing me close against his side.
Carlos got to us just as Jeb tenderly picked a clod of dirt from my hair.
“You should have seen it, Carlos! Jeb was so brave.’’
As Mama’s words rushed out, a scowl worked its way across my boyfriend’s face.
“That light blew up and nearly killed her,’’ Maddie added. “Jeb knocked her
clean out of the way. Good thing he’s used to mugging cattle.’’
Jeb tightened his embrace. Carlos’s frown deepened.
“You okay, Mace?’’ he asked.
Jeb spoke before I could answer. “She’s fine. I was in the right place at the right time.’’
“So it seems.’’
I tried to wriggle out of Jeb’s hold, but I didn’t have all my strength back. And, as Maddie had pointed out so flatteringly, Jeb is accomplished at roping and restraining reluctant heifers. He held on tight. The two men locked eyes. Carlos was the first to look away.
“I need to go find out what happened with that light.’’
“Wait …’’ I started to say.
“Your cowboy friend seems to have everything here under control.’’
“Carlos, stop …” My words bounced off his back as he turned and stalked away.
We stood silent until Mama spoke: “Well, he sure didn’t stay long.’’
Jeb shifted, but kept me in his hold. “Who put the burr under his saddle?’’
“You did, Jeb.’’ Maddie assumed her lecturing posture. “Have y’all ever heard of something called the savior complex? Well, Carlos has got it.’’
“He thinks he’s our Lord Jesus?’’ Mama gasped.
“No, because of events that happened in his past, he thinks he should be able to save everybody. Psychologically, he needs to feel like a protector. But he wasn’t here when Mace needed protection.’’
“Paging Sigmund Freud,’’ I said. “We’ve got an amateur trying to practice psychoanalysis.’’
“Glad to see you haven’t lost your knack for sarcasm,’’ Maddie said. “Criticize me all you want, but let me remind you: I studied psychology and human behavior in college while you were off communing in the forest with the plants and animals. Carlos may be mad at himself, but you’re the one he’ll end up punishing, Mace.’’
Mama Sees Stars: A Mace Bauer Mystery Page 7
