Lacy (The Doves of Primrose) (11 page)

“I know you haven’t eaten today and I expect every morsel on that plate to be gone.”

Lacy smiled. “God, you’re a demanding bitch.”

“I know. It’s why you love me.” She handed Lacy the fork in her hand and shook her hair behind her shoulders with a grin. “Quite a project
, isn’t it?”

Lacy followed
Emmylou’s gaze until she saw Kyle, dressed in his long leather duster looking menacing and very handsome acting out the scene. “Yeah.” Lacy dug into the pasta salad and nearly groaned with pleasure. Everything Emmylou made tasted like heaven.

“Look over there.”
Emmylou nudged her and pushed her chin to the grassy meadow on their left. “Don is having the time of his life.”

They both giggled and watched as he jerked the heavy saddle away from some poor guy struggling to carry it and then
instructed him on the proper way to saddle a horse while chiding the guy about his lack of strength. The look on the assistant’s
face was priceless, somewhere between trapped animal and drowning kid. The best part was when Don slapped him on his shoulder and told him to put his back into it.

As Lacy devoured the plate of food
, both women were drawn back to the cluster of trees by a loud voice on the bullhorn. Lacy shook her head and grumbled, “Do you ’s’pose we could
accidentally
toss that thing into the pond?”

When Emmylou didn’t laugh Lacy glanced over and found her
friend’s eyes fixed and her hands curling around the seat of the bench. She tried her best to follow the path of Emmylou’s vision and tossed her plate down when she found the point of interest. Emmylou was so engrossed in watching Kyle talk to the director she didn’t notice Lacy.

“Got anything to drink over at that table of yours?”
she asked loudly. Lacy’s eyes were boring though the side of Emmylou’s face and even Lacy’s nasty tone didn’t faze her. Lacy shoved herself off the bench and took off in search of a beverage, preferably one with ninety proof.

Damn it all to hell!
If that didn’t just take the prize for worst friend ever. What was Emmylou thinking? Kyle was no good for her, he was a playboy. He would break her heart, leaving Lacy and Scarlett to pick up the pieces. Just like always. That girl was a loser magnet. If there was a worthless, smooth-talking, low-life man within fifty miles he would find Emmylou. And it looked like this was no exception.

Lacy made it to the food truck and began slamming things around
in her search
for any kind of drink. She tossed lids and plates aside, picked up bowls and slammed them back down. Nothing satisfied her. She wanted to do that to Kyle’s head. How could he be such a sleazebag? After the moments they shared? Wasn’t there anything to drink around this cut-rate operation?

“Here you go, honey.”

Lacy stopped dead, staring at the glass full of iced tea hovering in front of her face. She sighed and took it. “Thanks, Scar.” She took a long drink and welcomed the searing pain of a brain freeze. “How did you know that’s what I wanted?”

Scarlett’s mouth hitched on one side. “You were muttering about a drink while tearing the place apart.”

Lacy hid behind the rim of her glass, wondering what else Scarlett had heard. “Oh, sorry.”

“It’s fine. So what did Kyle do to get you all riled up?”

“Nothing.” Lacy stepped to a vacant chair and sat. She was closer to the set; now she could actually hear them speaking. Scarlett sat next to her. “What makes you think it’s Kyle? I act like that a lot, you know.”

“No you don’t. You only throw things when you’re upset about something.”

Some guy wearing large, dark sunglasses turned in his tall chair. Lacy couldn’t see them but she knew his eyes were firing daggers at her and Scarlett. He pressed his finger against his lips and both women hunkered lower in their chairs.

“Spill it, Lacy,” Scarlett whispered.

Lacy shook her head and pointed to the man then mouthed, “Later.” Scarlett scowled and jerked her head in a nod.

Lacy was relieved she didn’t have to discuss it. With nothing left to do she watched the actors, mostly men she knew, play out the scene. It was so strange to see how a movie was made. She didn’t know what was going on. From the looks of it this was one of the last scenes. The
group of men were all wielding guns and threatening Kyle, whose character’s name was Dan, but with everything else going on around them she couldn’t concentrate on the words. There was a very tall man changing out panels of colored plastic over the big lights and two men carrying cameras on their shoulders skirting behind the actors.

She wondered if she was going to have to feed all these pe
ople. She canvassed the area, taking a quick head count of as many as she could see. Even accounting for the locals it was more than she had planned.

“CUT!” Marcus screamed through the
bullhorn scaring up a flock of birds from the nearby trees. “What the hell are you doing?” He jumped from his chair and advanced on the group.

Even from Lacy’s position she could feel the heat from
Mr. Chandler’s face as he got right in front of Jaron, the local kid who cowboyed for old Leo Black.

“Don’t you know how to hold a gun?”

Jaron looked down at Marcus and Lacy braced for the brute of a kid to pummel the poor director for the insult. “Yes, sir. But ’round here we don’t point ’em at people, ’less they’re tresspassin’ or poachin’.”

“What?” Marcus slammed his hand to his forehead. “I didn’t understand a word you just
said!”

Now Lacy wanted Jaron to knock the man around before she went over and took care of it.

“I got it, Marcus.” Kyle slid his way between the two men, taking Jaron just out of swinging distance.

“What’s going on?”

Lacy turned, bumping her elbow into Emmylou who was too intent on the scene to notice.

“The director was just taking off Jaron’s head about the proper way to handle a pistol.”

“Oh. Well, I’m sure he’s just doing his job.”

Lacy couldn’t help but roll her eyes.
Emmylou wouldn’t be saying that if he was all up in Kyle’s space, but since Kyle was safe and sound Jaron’s pride didn’t matter. Lacy opened her mouth to comment on it, but Scarlett’s gasp cut her off.

“Would you look at that poor woman?”

Lacy and Emmylou looked at Scarlett. Her beautiful face was crumpled and her sea blue eyes were staring sympathetically at something so they both turned and looked over their shoulders.

There was Lauren, sporting a giant white hat precariously tipped to the side. She had mud splattered all down the front of her pink sheath dress and was tromping, unsuccessfully, through the uneven grass in
five-inch heels. Lacy was surprised and impressed that she hadn’t broken her ankle yet. The trio watched until Lauren made it to Kyle’s RV, stumbled into the door, slammed
it against the side then crawled up the stairs.

Lacy just shook her head. That girl was never going to survive the country.

Chapter 10

It took Kyle three takes to get the first line in the scene they were filming. Not because they were working with a staff
ten times smaller than they were all used to, or the fact that three of the roles were now being played by men from town without the first clue of how to act. None of that mattered. They could edit the men out and replace them with the original actors. His problem was that all focus he normally had for a role was now being sapped by one belligerent little cowgirl with wild hair.

Her picture took up all the space in his brain
; there wasn’t room left for lines, scenes, plot. Just Lacy. And now Adam.

It had slipped out. He tried so hard never to think about his brother let alone mention him, but being with Lacy, being home brought it all back and made it easy. Lord knows Adam had been the forefront of many a conversation in this town. Kyle lived in his big brother’s shadow and had loved be
ing there, when Adam was alive.

Then he died and it was cold and crushing in the shadow
, even more so after his dad’s accident. No family could withstand the weight of that kind of tragedy, or at least his couldn’t. It was obvious that no amount of time would heal him, he was eternally crippled.

“Kyle! Do you think you can get this scene without a dozen retakes?”

“Yeah. Sorry, Marcus.” Kyle swiped the sweat from his forehead and replaced his dusty hat. He was damn glad he never lived in the 1880s; wearing all these clothes in the heat was unbearable. The only time he wore a long sleeve shirt in the heat was on the back of a bronc. And why would any human being wear a duster unless it was raining or snowing? Kyle shook his head.
What he did for his job.

They finally made it through to the last take. They acco
mplished one scene – it felt like twenty-- but with amateurs Kyle considered it a success. He was about to deliver his clever line to the “bad guys” when he caught a glimpse of Lacy destroying the food table. He couldn’t keep from chuckling under his breath.

“Cut!” Marcus tossed his script on the ground.
“For Christ’s sake, Kyle! I don’t know why you think that’s funny but it’s burning my ass! Get it right!” With his head in his hand and bullhorn to his lips he bellowed over the monitor, “Roll cameras!”

Kyle picked up the cue, waited for the sound guy to yell
, “Speed!” and the clappers to snap, then he delivered the line perfectly. That brought about the set-up for the next part. The one production designer that had come with the RVs was furiously positioning and instructing the girl filling in as set dresser to hand out the prop guns.

Kyle watched Lacy from the corner of his eye. He watched as she spoke with Scarlett
while trying to stay out of the way of the crew and half-listened to Jaron ramble on about his memories of Kyle. He tried to seem genuinely appreciative of the awed praise, but seriously, some of those stories had to have happened before the kid was even born. He couldn’t be more than eighteen, although he had to give Lacy credit. Her expertise with makeup had done a tremendous job of making him look older and meaner.

Marcus screamed for the set up.

“Just pretend that we are playing a grown-up version of cops and robbers,” Kyle quickly answered Jaron’s question about his method acting.

“That should be easy with this
prop gun. It doesn’t even look real.”

Kyle laughed. That was his exact statement the first time he was handed a prop gun. They told him only the main characters got to use the real things.

“Everybody ready!” Marcus yelled, then stepped behind the monitor. “Light it!”

They all waited in
bated anticipation while Oscar, the poor gaffer, played all roles of the lighting staff. “Roll cameras! Sam, how does it look?”

Kyle
smothered a smirk. The camera guy was now playing the part of director of photography. Guess they were all getting a crash course in new occupations this week. A miracle from God and the editing crew was the only way this film wouldn’t go straight to DVD.

“Looks good from here.”

“All right. Mark it. And… action!”

Kyle glared, looking up and down at every man holding a gun on him, his finger twitching
next to his holstered gun. The scripted conversation began, Kyle waited for the tobacco spit to land on his boot, triggering the shootout.

“CUT!”
Marcus shot from his chair yelling about Jaron’s questionable parentage.

Kyle thought poor Marcus was about to have a coronary. He couldn’t blame him, the man’s stress level rivaled the height of Kilimanjaro and trying to direct a film with rookies was
nothing less than a nightmare.

“I got this
, Marcus.” Kyle pushed Jaron back with one arm, trying to keep the kid from bashing in Marcus’s handsome face. “Let me have a word with him.”

Marcus pressed his fingers on the bridge of his nose
, pushing his glasses to his forehead. “Fine.” With a deep breath, Marcus returned to his chair and slumped down.

“Look, Jaron. This isn’t a high school play. This is a multi-
million-dollar movie that will be seen by millions.” He hoped that sounded convincing. “The fact that all hell has broke loose with production is an opportunity for you. Use it. Knock their socks off with the best performance you can muster. You have to believe that you
are
the character and that you’re going to kill me.”

Jaron’s starry eyes were locked onto his. “Okay. I think I’ve got it.”

“Good. Because I need your help, man. I can’t do it without you.” Kyle was in need of a stiff drink after that performance. But if this was the way the movie had to be filmed, then damn if he wasn’t going to make it the best one possible.

**********

Lauren had told Lacy that she was no longer needed on the set. Happy for the reprieve, she went back to the house to begin the dinner preparations. Scarlett was already there
with a fresh bushel of vegetables from her greenhouse.

“What is this supposed to be?”

Scarlett glanced at the globular green thing in Lacy’s hand. “It’s a pawpaw.”

“An
awhata?”

Scarlett shook her head. “It’s a fruit. I’m going to put it in the salad with the spinach, strawberries and almonds. It’s taken me five years to get the tree big enough to produce. You’ll like it.” Scarlett took the pawpaw from Lacy and began peeling it with her knife.

“Do you need my help?”

In answer
, Widow Walters came sweeping into the kitchen, snatching up her apron from behind the door and tying it on.

“I’m going to get the dining room ready.” Lacy smiled and left the kitchen.

She wished she would have cleaned up better this morning after breakfast. This new job Kyle so cleverly coerced her into had taken up too much of her time. At least she was getting paid extra.

Lacy placed the stack of dishes on the buffet and nearly dropped the pile when a crash sounded from upstairs. She wanted to sit down at the table and bawl her eyes out. She hadn’t planned on having to deal with a disaster every waking moment of the day with these people.

Dreading having to sweep up the remains of
some irreplaceable antique she hurried up the stairs. When she arrived at the landing, a scraping noise followed by a thud stopped her in mid-step. She turned her head to listen more closely, ignoring the ripple in her spine making her limbs grow cold and numb.

She stepped lightly
, still trying to decipher which room the noise was coming from, but it had stopped.  She tapped on the door to the yellow room then glanced inside when no one answered. She was hoping to find one of the new crew members getting settled in, but it was dark inside. Now her stomach was beginning to twist. There were absolutely no sounds of life on the floor. No footsteps, no water running in the bathrooms. Nothing.

Lacy studied each door and wall space in the huge hallway. The picture window at the end gave Lacy full view of the sunset. She had been one of the first to leave the
set. It wasn’t possible anyone else was here, but that noise had sounded like breaking glass and a heavy object being dragged over the wood floor. She hadn’t imagined it. She didn’t think.

“Hello?” She regretted it the moment it slipped out. That was no way to catch a thief. She took two steps, grabbed the skinny vase from the side table then advanced on her bedroom door that was now Lauren’s room. She cracked the door open without knocking and peeked inside. She scanned all four walls and back over the room, inspecting all the areas someone could hide.

Satisfied it was empty, she pushed the door open and stepped inside. What an idiot she was, she should know better than to let her imagination and exhaustion get the better of her common sense. This house was one hundred and twenty-five years old. It always made noise. As Lacy turned to leave the room, her eyes flashed to the spot on her dresser a silver frame usually occupied. She walked over to the dresser, placing her hand in the vacant spot, thinking with all her might back to the night she had moved out of this room.

Had she taken that photo with her?

No. She hadn’t. She had left it here on purpose. She didn’t want any more reminders of Kyle around her.

The front door opened and the noises of conversation and shuffling feet made Lacy jump and hurry for the door. Even though this was her room she didn’t want to be caught in it. She
pulled the brass doorknob until it clicked and started down the stairs but remembered she was still holding the vase.

She replaced it and tried to look innocent as she descended the stairs. That act was ruined when she locked eyes with Kyle as he came in the door. She was catapulted back in time. He had changed into a t-shirt and jeans and was still wearing the black cowboy hat. Her heart pulled her the rest of the way. The need to throw her arms around him was excruciating. Her skin beckoned to be next to his. Her pores were in danger of fracturing if he didn’t touch her soon.

The contrast of white shirt, dark hat and blue eyes blinded her to all else. She drifted further into the foyer and Kyle moved towards her. The crowd that entered with him dissolved into the dining room and they were alone. She slid her hands
into her back pockets to keep from reaching out to him. Moistening her lips to speak, his eyes darted to her mouth and when they met hers again the message was clear. All thoughts of conversation melted away.

She was exactly where she wanted to be and with the man she couldn’t shake from her system. She didn’t want to. There was nobody on this whole earth who had ever looked at her the way Kyle did and it ignited every part she thought died long ago. She couldn’t push her feelings away this time, the moment was too perfect and her defenses too tired to try.

Her chin instinctively lifted, his head tilted and lowered. Leaning, yearning, wishing. Static nerves vibrated in anticipation as Lacy lowered her gaze to his open mouth. Their lips a breath apart, finally. Lacy closed her eyes, already shaking with sensation.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph!
This place is a hellhole!”

Lacy heard the outburst a second before blinding pain sparked when Kyle’s head bashed into hers. Lacy’s eyes watered and she pulled away to hold the impact point.

“Mr. McClintock. I believed you when you told me that this place was a country haven. But you, sir, are a liar! I am in
hell
.”

Through her bleary eyes and scrambled mind Lacy made out
Lauren. She was limping around on one high heel, the other snapped cleanly off. Her blonde hair had long ago pulled free of her elegant braid and every inch of her was streaked in dirt. She had thistle stuck to the back of her skirt and smashed leaves in her hair.

Even Lacy had to feel bad for her. “Let me help you, Lauren.”

Lauren turned deranged eyes on Lacy. She was huffing in fury, and for a moment Lacy thought she might attack but in the space of two breaths Lauren straightened her spine, made a valiant attempt at smoothing her hair and tugged her jacket down.

She cleared her throat
. “No thank you, Mrs. Campbell. I believe I will take a long bath and go straight to bed. The fresh air has completely worn me out.”

Lacy wished she would stop addressing her like that. She had to stifle the urge to look around for her
ex-mother-in-law. “It does take a little getting used to.” She wanted to offer advice, but knew it would be useless.

Lauren
turned, shoulders back, head high and climbed the stairs.

Kyle laid his hand on Lacy’s shoulder, making her over-stimulated skin ache.

“I better go check on her.” The somber smile on his lips and hooded eyes made Lacy’s heart thump hard. She didn’t want him to go either, but she nodded and leaned against the newel post.

“But
I’d like to talk to you later if that’s all right?”

“Front porch?” Lacy sighed.

“Ten o’clock?”

She nodded and he took one step, retreated, grasped both
her shoulders and pulled her into a quick but heated kiss. “By the way, that shirt you’re wearing is perfect. I couldn’t concentrate all day for wanting to tear it off of you.” With that, he grinned and turned to the staircase.