A Cowboy for Lynne: Cameron Family Saga

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A Cowboy for Lynne: Cameron Family Saga Page 2

by Shirley Larson


  I expected to doze my way through it just as I had the last one, but the opening scene within a modern museum caught my attention. When the woman playing the part of Amneris came to life, I was shocked to attention. I couldn’t believe she was so disciplined she had stood there all that time without moving a muscle. She was so beautiful that I felt as if I’d had the breath knocked out of me. The way she stood, every gesture she made convinced me she was an Egyptian princess, partly because of her costume, yes, but there was a poise that came from inside this woman that kept me riveted. At the end of that scene there was a stunning light effect where the blackout brought everything down to a tiny pinhole of light until that disappeared, leaving the stage in utter darkness, the way it would be in a tomb.

  When Amneris sang the lighter number, My Strongest Suit, I was captivated by her humor. When the time came for her final number, she nearly ripped the heart I swore I didn‘t have right out of my chest.

  The lights came up and Lynne Cameron came out for her bow. I could only stand there (everyone in the audience stood up to give her a standing ovation) and stare at her.

  “Jake. Jake.” Leslie tugged at my sleeve. “Did you like it?”

  Leslie gave me that triumphant little smile as if she knew exactly how much I’d liked it. I couldn’t admit that I‘d been blown away. “It was…well done.”

  “Well done?” Leslie punched me in the shoulder. “You never took your eyes off the stage.”

  I had to cover somehow. “I wanted to make sure I got my money’s worth.”

  Leslie laughed merrily. “Money’s worth, my foot. Amneris had you eating out of her hand. You want to come and meet her? Our counselors arranged for us to go backstage. We get to talk to the cast.”

  Come face to face with that woman and trip over my feet or do something equally stupid? No way. “You guys go ahead.”

  Did I mention that as well as being beautiful, my sister was way too perceptive? “Jake, come on. They’re just actors. They don’t bite, you know.”

  If Lynne Cameron bit me, I’d like it. A lot. “I don’t want to spoil your fun.”

  “You’re afraid, aren’t you?” Leslie’s eyes were alive with teasing mischief. “Afraid you’ll look like a backwoods cowboy. I told you not to wear your work boots and that big old hat.”

  That sister of mine was too sassy by half. “I’ll be damned if I’ll dress like a city boy. I am who I am. Just go on, get out of here or you’ll miss your chance.”

  “Meet us at the backstage door, okay? I think we get to walk out with them after they change.”

  “Got it.” I wasn’t normally a coward, particularly when it came to women. But Lynne Cameron was…different.

  I joined the group of fans that waited at the backstage door. Some of the star worshippers held bouquets, others playbills to be autographed. People like Ms. Cameron must expect adulation every day of their lives. Crazy way to live.

  I distanced myself from the crowd by leaning against the building several feet away from the door. There I was able to do what I did best…observe. There was one guy that didn’t seem to fit into the teenage hoodie groupies. He was gray-haired, older, and wore a fancy city suit that probably cost as much as one of my feeder calves. The guy smoked a cigarette and then lit a new one off the old one. Didn’t Mr. Suit guy realize what he was doing to his lungs, smoking cigarettes on top of breathing city air every day? Because sure as hell this was some fancy pants city boy. I wondered who he was waiting for.

  After an hour of standing about in the chilly March evening, the backstage door opened and the cast members emerged. The gorgeous woman who’d portrayed Aida appeared in the doorway. Instantly, she was swamped by people asking her to autograph their playbills. I never quite understood that whole autograph thing. Next came the black haired guy who played Radames. He seemed shorter than he’d looked on stage. At last, Lynne Cameron came out, Leslie close beside her. Leave it to my sister to recognize the quality in Ms. Cameron’s performance. I pushed away from the wall and headed toward Leslie at the same time the city guy headed for Ms. Cameron. City guy shoved my sister aside to grasp the star’s arm. I started forward to clock the guy on the jaw when Lynne Cameron gave him a sharp reprimand. Amazingly, the guy stepped back. Lynne put an arm around Leslie’s shoulder and bent toward her, as if she needed to hear what Leslie had to say. I got closer. If city guy thought he was going to touch my sister again, he had another think coming.

  Then Leslie gave Ms. Cameron her playbill. I was close enough to hear the Broadway star asking Leslie how to spell her name.

  City guy growled, “This is ridiculous. I’ve waited long enough for you.” He ripped the playbill out of Ms. Cameron’s hand and tore it into several pieces. Then he shoved her ahead of him. While Leslie, tears in her eyes, stooped to retrieve the tattered pieces of her program, I heard Lynne Cameron say, “Let go of me.” Just as I was ready to step in, she wrenched her arm free and said, “Richard, if you don’t stay away from me, I’ll have a restraining order sworn out against you.”

  I might have hesitated before, thinking maybe it was a lover’s quarrel, but at the words restraining order, I realized this was no lover’s quarrel. This was a case of stalking.

  I stepped forward to place my body between the city boy stalker and Lynne. “You’d better do as the lady asks.”

  City guy took one look at me and said, “Who’s this backwoods cowboy, Lynne? Your new lover?”

  “I’m the brother of the young lady whose heart you just broke, buster. And if I did what I wanted to do, I‘d wipe the sidewalk with your face. Instead I think I‘ll call the cops.” I whipped my cell phone out of my pocket and punched up the first two numbers of 911. “Now are you going to crawl back into the hole you came out of or shall I finish this call?”

  City guy turned and snapped his fingers and a Rolls Royce crept around the corner. El Jerko climbed in the back seat. “This isn’t over Lynne,” he said. “And Tex…I’ll hang you out to dry so fast you won’t know what hit you.”

  Chapter 2

  Lynne

  “Leslie, I am so, so sorry. I’ll get you another program. Will,” I called out to the backstage door man. “Will you find another playbill for me, please?”

  “Right away, Ms. Cameron.”

  This young girl reminded me so much of Natalie, Anne’s sister, sweet and unspoiled. It was a miracle that any young woman could grow up in this world and be as genuine as this girl was. I suspected that the cowboy with the broad shoulders and narrow hips had something to do with Leslie’s unsullied personality. How lucky Leslie was to have such a handsome and fierce protector. I could do with a little bit of that protection right now.

  While Will disappeared inside the theater, I turned all my attention to Leslie. I slipped my arm around the girl‘s shoulder. I could not let this memory of our meeting be an unpleasant one. “He’ll be back in a minute with a new program for you. I’m sorry for the delay. I hope I’m not keeping you from something.”

  This sweet young woman looked up at me with all her admiration in her face. “You’re not keeping us from anything, is she, Jake?”

  “No, not at all.”

  At the husky sound of that deep masculine voice, I looked up to see the man…no, make that cowboy…who had rousted Richard step out of the shadows. He had that black Stetson pulled low over his brow so that I couldn‘t see his face but I felt a need to express my deep gratitude for what he had done. “I thank you, sir, for your quick action.”

  He gripped his hat in an old fashioned Western greeting. He had on a black leather jacket and his very long legs encased in jeans that were molded to his body by many days of wear. Those were authentic, work-worn boots on his feet. What was there about a cowboy that was so appealing? I felt as if he’d seen it all, hot dusty trail rides, cantankerous horses, long days and nights of hard work using his arms and hands to subdue cattle for branding. He was equal to every task. Clear headed and sure footed, with a body that was honed down by worki
ng and riding. Way, way too attractive. I should close my mouth and remember where I was. I turned to Leslie. “So. Tell me about your stage experience. You said you were Annie in Annie, Liesl in the Sound of Music, Little Red Riding Hood in Into the Woods, and Sister Sarah in Guys and Dolls. That’s quite an impressive resume.”

  “They were just high school productions.”

  “Still, you had to learn the lines and the songs and memorize your blocking. Sister Sarah is a vocally challenging role.”

  “Do you think I have a chance at being a Broadway star like you?”

  “It’s a long, tough road, but it sounds like you have as much chance as anybody who comes here hoping to be a star. How does your dad feel about that?”

  Jake

  Lynne Cameron turned those deep blue eyes on me. She looked so different without her stage make up and dressed in casual clothes. She was just as beautiful, perhaps even more so. She was a tall woman, five nine at least. I wouldn’t have to crick my neck when I kissed her. Now where did that thought come from?

  “Oh, he’s not my dad. He’s my brother. My dad died when I was five and Jake took over the ranch.”

  “So you really are a cowboy then,” she said. I grabbed the brim of my hat once again. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Intelligent, Rutledge, really intelligent. You could at least tell her how much you liked her performance. But before I could open my mouth Will came back with the playbill and Lynne Cameron took it and prepared to sign it. “Shall I just say best wishes for your career, Leslie or shall I sign your brother’s name, too.”

  “Oh, don’t sign his name. He thinks theater is dopey. And he thinks I’m dopey for wanting to be an actress.”

  Gee, thanks a lot, little sister. No hope of impressing the lady now. With an amused glance at me, Lynn handed the playbill back to Leslie and said, “Your brother might just be right, baby.”

  Lynne Cameron turned all her attention on me. It was a lethal dose of beautiful blue eyes and feminine appeal. It hit me hard in the solar plexus and points lower. She said, “I don‘t know your last name, so I‘ll call you Jake as your sister does. I want to thank you again for your intervention tonight.”

  I opened my mouth and the exact thing I was thinking came out. “You didn’t encourage that jerk, did you?”

  That quickly, her graciousness turned icy. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no, I have never encouraged Richard. Quite the contrary.”

  What an ass I was. How could I have been so crass? Worst of all, I’d hurt her. She turned to go to the car that was waiting for her. I‘d never see her again. I couldn‘t let her go away thinking I was a complete numbskull. “Ms. Cameron.”

  She swung back to me, her dark hair in braids. In her jeans and t-shirt she looked like a twelve year old. A tall, very annoyed twelve year old. “Was there something else?”

  “I just wanted to thank you for being so kind to my sister.”

  “Think nothing of it. I’ve always wanted a sister and if I had one, I’d like her to be just like Leslie.”

  With those kind words, she inserted those long legs in the car and shut the door.

  “Isn’t she fabulous?” Leslie said, sighing. “I want to be just like her.”

  And dealing with a stalker? Over my dead body. “You’ve got a lot of time to think about what you’re going to be when you grow up.”

  “Jake,” she said, in the voice teen age girls can use to make a grown man feel like he’s an idiot, “have you looked at me lately? I’m up.”

  “You might almost be an adult in the eyes of the law, but in your big brother’s eyes, you’re still his little girl.”

  Leslie swung an arm around my waist and began to walk with me toward the street. “And that’s a good thing. Thanks for sticking up for me against that creep.”

  “My pleasure, baby girl.”

  In the cab riding back to the hotel, I studied my sister. She stared out the car window at the flash of lights from Bergdorf Goodman and Sacs Fifth Avenue, a dreamy look on her face. I knew she wasn’t thinking about shopping. She was thinking about Lynne Cameron. And as hell would have it, so was I.

  The prized playbill with Lynne Cameron’s signature lay in Leslie’s lap, both her hands clutching the edges. Leslie would probably sleep with it under her pillow. I doubted if she’d let it out of her possession, even to eat breakfast. It disturbed me that Leslie had her set her sights on such a difficult career. If I weren’t apprehensive enough about Leslie’s dream of being a Broadway star before, I’d glimpsed one of the hazards of being in public life. Leslie had been brought up in a loving family in a protected environment. How would she deal with a dedicated stalker? For that matter, Lynne Cameron didn’t look much more capable than Leslie of shedding that guy. Why hadn’t Ms. Cameron nipped this thing in the bud before it had escalated like this?

  “May I see that playbill, Leslie?”

  She looked up at me as if she were five and I’d asked her to give me her prize teddy bear. I had to smile at her. “I’ll give it right back, I promise.”

  Reluctantly, she handed it over.

  I flipped past the list of scenes and cast biographies. There on the second to the last page was a list of the backers. And at the top of the list were the names, Richard and Alisha Haines. Then I flipped the pages back and read Lynne Cameron’s bio. I closed the playbill and handed it back to Leslie. There was the answer to the puzzle. He was a money guy. Ms. Cameron had probably been warned not to offend him. I’d like to “offend” that asshole, right where it would hurt the most. But I’d learned something else from reading that playbill. Lynne Cameron was related to the Cameron brothers who owned a real estate and renovation company. It was there in her bio.

  And a big thank you to my three brothers…who are the biggest pains in my neck and also the loves of my life. Couldn’t have done it without you, bros.

  I handed back the program and sat there, my mind churning.

  Lynne

  Back in the glass and chrome apartment I rented from my brother Hunter, I had New York skyscrapers laid out for display in my floor to ceiling windows. I stared at the view in my darkened living room, feeling very unsettled. It always takes me a while to unwind after a performance. You get yourself worked up to a certain pitch to go on stage and it’s almost like you’re in danger because every sense has to be alert. Aida had run so long that all the set changes and lighting cues were locked in and the whole show ran like a well-oiled machine, so it wasn’t that. No, it was what happened after the show that had me rethinking my life.

  I fixed myself a cup of tea and went into my bedroom to sit down at my dressing table to undue my braids and tried to calm down. Usually this nightly task relaxed me. Instead I found myself going over what had happened on the backstage door. I’d done something I’ve never done before…I lost my temper with a fan. Heaven knew he wasn’t the typical backstage Johnnie. He was there for his sister. But I shouldn’t have been annoyed with him. I remembered feeling chilled in that alleyway, dreading having to deal with Richard yet again. On top of that, I found myself admiring that six foot four lean cowboy whose face was shadowed under his big hat. He was all man and no doubt about it. Then to have him accuse me of encouraging Richard, that was such an insult.

  I hadn’t wanted to call my brothers because in all the years since I’d left home and come to the city, I’d never asked for their help. It was a matter of pride.

  No, I wouldn’t call Hunter. I could handle this. I could keep avoiding Richard. He’d give up eventually.

  Jake

  On Monday morning, I was determined to get the taste of the city out of my mouth. I mounted up and rode out under the blue Florida sky, letting my mare pick her way through the green scrub pasture. But the sight of my Hereford cattle with their red backs and white faces was not giving me the peace of mind that it usually did. My thoughts kept circling back to Lynne Cameron.

  In a couple of weeks, the Cameron brothers company would be coming down from New Y
ork to begin work on a 1924 vaudeville theater building in the village that was twenty miles from my ranch. Last night I’d gone back through my paperwork when we’d negotiated the renovation contract to find a phone number for Hunter Cameron. I’d never actually met any of the brothers. We mostly talked on the phone.

  I debated with myself. If I did what I wanted to do and called Hunter Cameron, he would think I was an interfering nut job. But if some madman were stalking my sister Leslie and she was too proud to ask for my help, I’d sure as hell want a phone call letting me know about it.

  Around four thirty I came into the house and went straight to the phone. I was amazed to have Hunter himself answer. “Yes, Mr. Rutledge? What can I do for you?”

  Caller ID had smoothed the way for me. “Mr. Cameron, my sister and I attended the performance of Aida yesterday and we really enjoyed meeting your sister outside the theater afterward…”

  “I don’t arrange follow up meetings with my sister. For that you need to call her agent…” That quickly, Hunter’s tone changed from friendly to cold.

  I said quickly, “No, I don’t want a meeting with your sister. I just need to talk to you and make you aware that…well, there’s no easy way to say this. Your sister is being stalked by a man named Richard Haines. I know you must think it’s none of my business, and it isn’t, but from what I saw, it seems to me your sister doesn’t realize how dangerous this man is. I think she believes she can handle him herself. And if she went to the director or the producer, she wouldn‘t get much support since this guy is a money man for the show.”

 

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