by Cat Johnson
I focused back on Jamey before he performed his own fall since there was no stunt double here.
“Keep your weight centered,” I called to him as I watched him lean more to one side.
“Easy for you to say!” he shouted back.
My father chuckled. “You getting paid well for this gig?”
“Yup,” I nodded, making a mental note to check the mailbox for that big fat check that was supposed to be in the mail.
“Good,” he said one more time. My father wasn’t a man of many words, but he sure got his point across with the few he chose.
One month—and all I had to do was get Jamey looking like a horseman. That and try to not get used to having him around.
Half of me wanted the month to fly by while the other half was starting to wish it would never end.
“Maisie.” My father tipped his chin toward the ring. “Look.”
I spun to look back, my heart pounding. Bad teacher that I was, I hadn’t been watching my student.
As it turned out, he was doing fine. Better than fine.
Stardust had kicked into a cantor and Jamey settled into the new rhythm beautifully. He even looked like he was enjoying it. There was a smile on his face as he looked ahead of him rather than staring down at the horse’s neck.
“Wow.” My single breathed word had my father snorting.
“Yup. Turns out city boy’s pretty good in the saddle.”
I had a feeling he’d be pretty good lots of places.
That errant thought had my eyes flying wide as I checked my father’s face to make sure I hadn’t accidentally said it out loud.
He was still watching the man and horse circling the ring, as I should be doing.
I turned back and caught a glimpse of Jamey’s strong thighs gripping Stardust between them. My body tingled in reaction.
It had obviously been too many years since a man had been between my thighs. And even then, it had been Dusty. I had a feeling having sex with Jamey Garret would be nothing like being with Dusty—the one and only man I’d ever been with since I’d given in to him as a stupid virgin.
Jamey passed me again. The look of pure pleasure on his face as he mastered the horse beneath him had my heart rate speeding.
Shit. I was in deep trouble with this one. No doubt about it.
EIGHT
JAMEY
I throttled down the tractor’s engine.
Maisie sat up on the top rail facing the practice ring where the skill of her afternoon student made me feel like a bumbling fool.
The girl, who couldn’t be much more than eight or nine, guided her pony smoothly through a course of obstacles, jumping fences, dancing between poles on the ground.
At the end of my hour this morning, I’d been riding a high just from staying in the saddle through a canter. Watching this girl hanging on as the horse sailed over a white wooden rail deflated my sense of accomplishment nicely.
I suppose I shouldn’t let myself get too cocky for being able to ride in a circle inside a fence. I doubted that would be the situation during filming.
More likely I’d be expected to gallop across the countryside on my trusty steed. I could see the end result of that now. Me, flat on my back on the ground looking up.
It had happened to me before. I’d been young and stupid and started to celebrate a victory in the ring before the bell. My opponent wasn’t quite down for the count, but once he got on his feet again he put me down fast enough.
The difference was in the ring there was a referee and my opponent wasn’t a thousand pound animal with deadly hooves that would stomp on me.
But these were early days yet in my learning process. I had almost a whole month left with my hot as hell teacher.
My gaze settled on her now, outlined against the blue sky. She fit there, with the land and the horses.
Even with the girl speeding through the obstacle course just yards in front of her, Maisie seemed serene. At peace.
Maybe that was just because she wasn’t snipping at me at the moment.
I was surprised as hell to see her crack up this morning. And even more so when I asked if I could hang around for a bit longer today and she said yes. Then she’d put me to work cleaning stalls. But it was okay, because until her afternoon lesson showed up, she was right there next to me.
And the best part was that she let me drive the tractor. For a foster kid from the city, that was like waking up Christmas morning and finding a new Tonka Toy, but life-sized.
The girl in the ring completed the run and Maisie jumped down from the fence with a whoop. “That was great! Perfect. That blue ribbon is yours, Alexa. I can feel it.”
Alexa dismounted and ran full speed at Maisie, crashing into her with a full body hug. I laughed out loud at her enthusiasm.
Maisie wrapped her arms around the girl in a hug. She was like a different person when she taught. Even with me, who apparently could do nothing right with her.
At least, that’s how it was to start. We seemed to have turned a corner this morning. Things felt . . . different.
I was just wondering if I’d get a hug if I managed to make it through that course as I stepped down from the tractor. To be pressed against Maisie from head to toe it might be worth a try.
“Who the fuck are you?”
The question, asked in a male voice behind me, had my muscles bunching as I turned.
I braced to dodge or deliver a punch, depending on what I was facing. I’d been in too many street fights to not tense at the tone of his words.
He was probably a couple of years older than me, with a baseball cap pulled down over his dark hair and eyes, which were narrowed at me. Maybe a couple of inches shorter than me, he was skinny except for a small beer belly. I figured I could take him if I had to.
But why would I have to? I was here on Maisie’s farm doing nothing wrong.
In fact, I had good reason to be here. I’d paid to be here. Which begged the question, why was this guy interrogating me?
“Who the fuck are you?” I asked, turning the question back on him.
His dark eyes bulged. Oh, man, he was pissed now and I was the one who’d done it.
I shot a glance at Maisie.
What if this was her next student and here I’d gone and insulted him?
But no, this guy didn’t look like a riding student. Then again, neither did I.
“What are you looking at her for?” His question brought my gaze back to the man. Not that I was going to answer his question.
“Why shouldn’t I look at her?” I asked, my fists clenched and ready.
He sputtered. I wondered how much further I’d have to push him to get him to foam at the mouth.
Petty though it was, I was enjoying watching him lose his shit over my lack of answers.
I should probably stop. If this guy was here, Maisie had to know him. She wouldn’t like my fucking with him.
Was this her boyfriend? Nah, he couldn’t be. I might not know her all that well or for that long, but this guy didn’t strike me as her type.
Or maybe I just didn’t want him to be. But he sure was possessive of her.
“Dad!” The boy I’d seen the day before, the one Maisie had said was her son, came running toward us from the school bus that had just dropped him off at the end of the long driveway.
And he was calling the crazy dude who looked like he wanted to take my head off dad.
Fuck.
“Hey, boy.” After one more dagger filled glare at me, he turned. He ruffled the dark hair on the boy’s head, then looped an arm around his shoulders and led him away.
The physical resemblance was obvious. There was no doubt they were father and son, even if I didn’t want it to be true.
What had I been thinking? Just because I hadn’t seen him yet, why wouldn’t the kid’s father be in the picture? Of course, he was.
Maisie was great. She wouldn’t be single. Though she didn’t wear a wedding ring. I’d looked. But maybe that
was because she was working outside with the animals. I should learn not to make assumptions.
I watched them walk away—arm-in-arm, father and son—and sighed.
Whether it was from the void I still felt from never having known my own father or from the loss of some fantasy of more with Maisie, I didn’t know. But the thought of driving the tractor out to the manure pile again didn’t even cheer me.
“Dickhead.” The low growled word had my head pivoting to see an older man watching the father and son duo walk away before he turned to me. “Hey, there. Charles Holtz.”
I gripped the hand he extended. “Jamey Garret. Nice to meet you.”
And it was since it seemed he didn’t like Charlie’s father anymore than I did.
“Pardon my language but that man pisses me off near every time he comes here.”
My attention piqued. If he was a visitor that meant he didn’t live there. Things were looking up.
“Today was the first time I had the pleasure,” I said.
The older man let out a snort. “You don’t have to be polite with me. I know Dusty’s a no good bastard. If he weren’t Charlie’s father I’d have run him off with my double barrel long ago.”
My lips twitched, enjoying that image a lot.
“So, what are you still doing here?” he asked.
I’d seen him talking to Maisie at one point during my lesson this morning.
I held up both hands, palms forward. “Just trying to get used to being around the horses, I swear. No need to get the shotgun.”
He guffawed. “No worries, kid. I’m not gonna shoot you. Unless you get my little girl pregnant, then all bets are off.”
I snorted out a laugh. “Don’t blame you one bit.”
He smiled, nodding his head. “I like you, Garret.”
“Thank you, sir. I like you too.” And your daughter.
“So the Hollywood folk want to make a horseman out of you, do they?”
“Yes, sir.”
“How you feeling about that?” he asked.
“After today, not so bad. Actually, pretty good. I cantered.” I couldn’t control the smile, which had him chuckling.
“Yup, I saw you in the ring.”
“And what did you think? Any hope for me?”
“Maybe. We’ll see after you gallop.”
I cringed. “Guess I’m gonna have to do that.”
I was really going to have to read over that script and see what I’d be doing in this thing.
The older man bobbed his head. “Yup. But I guess you could ask for a stunt rider.”
“I already tried that.”
“And?”
I scowled. “The studio told my agent to get me lessons.”
Charles chuckled and slapped me on the back. “Maisie will get you fixed up right. Don’t you worry. Even if it takes her all month.”
I caught a glimpse of Maisie by the barn. She was holding the hose and laughing with Alexa while spraying down the horse now the lesson was over.
Spending all month here sounded pretty good to me.
NINE
MAISIE
“So I, uh, met your father,” Jamey said as he kicked at the dirt.
“Oh, did you?” It was strange, the look on Jamey’s face. “He wasn’t a smart ass to you, was he?”
“Your dad? No.” He shook his head.
Still something was up. I waited for him to tell me.
Finally, he said, “Met you’re uh, son’s father too.”
Ah. That explained so much.
God only knew what Dusty had done or said. The man was an idiot. Sometimes he acted as if he’d been raised by wolves. Unable to interact with nice normal humans.
Nice and normal. A few days ago I never would have thought I’d consider Jamey Garret, Hollywood A-lister, normal but here I was.
Pushing that phenomenon aside, I said, “Sorry.”
His dark brows lifted. “Sorry about what?”
“That you had to be subjected to him.”
Jamey lifted one shoulder, his hands weighted down with the two buckets of feed he’d just picked up. “It’s okay. Just . . . interesting.”
I’m sure it had been. Grabbing two buckets of feed myself, I followed Jamey down the row of stalls. “What did he do? You can tell me. Nothing that man does can surprise me anymore.”
“He, uh, just seemed—” Jamey shook his head. “Never mind. It was fine. He just wanted to know who I was. Which, by the way, deflated nicely any big ego I might have gotten from my last movie.”
“Don’t judge the normal viewing public by us around here. I’m too busy to go to the movies. With Dad, if it doesn’t have Clint Eastwood or John Wayne in it, he doesn’t want to see it. And Dusty, well, I doubt he actually sees the screen while he’s in the theater with a date.”
“So you two, date other people then?”
His question brought me around. “Jamey, he and I aren’t together. He’s Charlie’s father. That’s all. He might want us to be more but that’s not happening again.”
He nodded, slipping into Lucifer’s stall with the bucket of feed. I waited, and was rewarded as he came scurrying out, a little wide-eyed and pale. I tried not to smile and failed.
I should feed the stallion. I knew how Jamey felt about him, but watching the caution in his eyes every day was a rare entertainment for me during what had become mind numbingly boring chores.
Besides, it was good for him to face his fears. It was a teaching moment.
He recovered from the fright and came back to me.
“So Charlie’s dad wants you to be a couple again.” He nodded, like it explained something to him.
“What exactly did Dusty say to you?” I asked, suspicious.
“He was just very . . . territorial when he saw me here working with you.”
“Territorial. Yeah, that sounds about right.” I sniffed at the accuracy. I couldn’t have come up with a better word if I tried. “Don’t worry about him.”
Now it was Jamey’s turn to snort out a laugh. “Oh, I’m not worried.”
I lifted my brows. “He might be an ass, but I’ve seen him take out a drunk twice his size in a bar fight once so don’t discount him too quickly.”
His brows rose as well as a smile bowed his lips. “A bar fight, huh? I’d pay good money to see you out at that kind of bar.”
I rolled my eyes. “It was many years ago when I was young and stupid.”
He nodded. “Point taken. And as for any possible confrontations, don’t worry about me. I can defend myself.”
“Because you played a fighter in your first movie.”
His eyes flew wide as his lips twitched. “You looked up my movies.”
“I . . . no . . . I mean yes, but um, Charlie and Dad wanted to know who you were. So I googled.”
“And?” he asked, still looking too amused for my taste.
Besides the fact that throwing the morning feed to the horses was taking twice as long as it would have if I’d done it myself, I didn’t like being put on the spot.
I lifted one shoulder, determined to cut this discussion short. “I found your Wikipedia page.”
He laughed out loud now.
“Just so you know, my IMDb page would probably have better information.” His gaze cut to me as he grabbed for two more buckets of feed. “And I don’t just play a fighter in the movies. I am one in real life.” Grinning, he’d lowered his voice for cinematic effect, but then his expression visibly saddened. “At least I was one.”
“What happened?” I asked.
I didn’t want to be intrigued but I found this tidbit of information about his past fascinating.
“I’m not allowed to fight or do anything else where I could get hurt until after my next movie is wrapped. Some stupid clause in my contract. Meanwhile, there’s a good chance Lucifer in there will kill me one day and it would serve the studio right for forcing me to take these lessons.”
Wow. That stung. Taking it personally, I sa
id, “Sorry you’re forced to be here.”
I stalked toward the cart to grab more feed buckets when he stopped me with a hand on my arm.
“I like being here on the farm. With the horses. With you. I enjoy learning from you. Working with the animals. What I don’t like is being told what to do and what not to do. Contractually, my life isn’t my own for the next six months or so, even when I’m not filming, and that pisses me off.”
I could see the sincerity in him and the frustration.
Feeling powerless and not being in control of your own life sucked. I knew that from experience. One time Dusty had been pissed at me. He turned into an extra big asshole and threatened to hire a lawyer to get custody of Charlie.
I’d lost my shit. I’d been more than just pissed. I’d gone to the gun case and taken out my granddaddy’s double barrel. Dusty never threatened that again.
“I understand.” I said.
“Do you?” he asked, looking genuinely concerned.
“Yes.”
“Good.” He nodded and drew in a breath.
“So . . .” he began.
I braced myself for what other surprises might come out of this man’s mouth.
“What else did you find when you stalked me online?” he asked.
“Narcissist,” I accused with a twitch of my lips.
“Curious,” he countered, smiling.
“I found a Navy SEAL movie.” I stopped mid-step and glanced back at him. “Don’t tell me you used to be a SEAL too.”
He grinned. “I wish, but no. But one of my good friends used to be. He’s my co-star’s fiancé. And oh my God, it was freaking amazing. He and his SEAL friends came and helped us on that movie.”
I watched him talk, moving faster now with the excitement of the story he was telling. His face glowing with childlike enthusiasm. The same I’d seen when I taught him how to drive the tractor.
Once a boy, always a boy I guessed, no matter how old.
Maybe I’d never realized that because my dating life had been limited to one boy.
