Hot Winter Nights. Debbi Rawlins

look, Clint regretted the stupid remark. What a dumb-ass thing to say. He’d just made idle curiosity sound like it was a big deal.

      Jesus.

      “Some jerk asked if I wanted to be in the movie. I wouldn’t have to say anything. Just stand next to a horse and look like a jackass.”

      Nathan grinned. “What did you say?”

      “What do you think?”

      Lucky for him, his brother’s phone rang.

      Clint stood. Perfect time to make an exit.

      Glancing at the cell, Nathan said, “Sit. It’s only Woody.”

      “I’ve got to go.” Clint glanced at his watch and started for the door. “We’ll talk another time.”

      “You sure you don’t wanna stay for some of Beth’s casserole? I guarantee she made plenty.”

      Clint laughed. “I heard leftovers are even better the next day,” he said on his way out of the office, grinning when he heard his brother curse.

      Despite Erin’s assurance, Clint figured he’d go see if the head wrangler had showed up. Although if he was being honest, he wanted to see Lila again.

      * * *

      THE SUN HADN’T dipped behind the Rockies yet, but the sky was overcast, which meant it would get dark early. Everyone was rushing to make use of the daylight and making more mistakes. It was just one of those days. Lots of small, annoying things had gone wrong, and everyone seemed to be on edge. The two bars in town would likely be hopping tonight.

      Lila wasn’t much of a drinker, but even she was considering a trip into town with everyone else. A beer shouldn’t cost too much.

      She watched an older man transfer his chew of tobacco from one cheek to the other, and managed not to cringe. Disgusting. In the three months she’d been working on location in cattle country, she’d grown used to many unfamiliar customs. But chewing tobacco? Yuck.

      The man was an extra, not an actor, but they were using him for several close-ups during the bar-fight scene. So Lila had been called to the set to make sure his fake injuries were consistent for each shot.

      Initially she’d been in charge of hair, and hadn’t done much makeup. But she’d been learning a lot, and she liked having the variety, so she never minded pitching in when they asked for her.

      “You need to make the scar longer,” Erin said, studying the photo and then the man’s jaw. “Bring it closer to his ear.”

      “I’m back.” Glenda, an intern, showed up to take over.

      “Let Lila finish the scar and then—” Erin glared at the man. “Would you stop chewing?”

      He stopped.

      Lila and Glenda exchanged private smiles. Erin was their hero. She was never mean or petty, but if someone wanted to be coddled, they’d better look elsewhere.

      Every film needed someone as smart and efficient as Erin. Especially a low-budget, indy project like this one. So much was riding on it for a lot of people—including her and Erin. The film’s success could make their careers. Or conversely, bankrupt them. The two of them were low-level investors, but it had taken every penny they’d saved, every favor owed them, and they’d even taken out small loans. Lila tried not to think about that too much. It made her queasy.

      She quickly went to work on the man’s scar, and just as she applied the finishing touch, Erin said, “Guess who’s back?”

      Lila’s pulse quickened. “Shut. The. Front. Door,” she said, staring at her friend. Erin’s teasing smile was a big hint. Had to be the cowboy Lila had been daydreaming about all afternoon. “Are you serious?”

      “As a heart attack. But don’t turn—” Erin sighed when Lila whipped around for a look.

      “Where?” A black truck parked near the corrals hadn’t been there ten minutes ago. No sign of Clint, though. “Is he—oh, crap,” she muttered when she caught sight of Baxter.

      Erin’s expression changed completely when she saw him hurrying toward them. “What do you want?”

      “That guy...Landers.” Baxter was out of breath. “He’s back.”

      “So?”

      “Jason wants to use him tomorrow.” Baxter was so clueless. Whatever it was he wanted, his haughty tone wasn’t going to win Erin over.

      “Need anything else, Erin?” Glenda asked, already backing away.

      “Nope. We’re good for now.”

      “You have to go talk to Landers,” Baxter said. “Jason insists that—”

      “Jason told you to do it. Lila, got a minute?” Erin started walking toward the set, and Lila went along with her.

      “Yeah, but—” Baxter’s face flushed.

      Erin stopped. “But what? Landers told you to take a hike?”

      Baxter’s defiant glare faded. “I don’t get why Jason has to have him.”

      “Well, that’s a problem. You should be getting it. You need to understand those small details if you want to—” Erin cut herself short. She blinked, thought a few seconds and tried to hold back a smile. “Ask Lila to do it.”

      Baxter’s mouth tightened. It was obvious he didn’t like that idea. Finally he turned to her. “Will you talk to Landers?”

      “Maybe.” Lila let him stew while she willed her pulse to slow down. “Okay, I’ll do it. But you’ll owe me.”

      Baxter had the nerve to look smug again.

      Lila jabbed a finger at him. “Owe me big. Got it?”

      Baxter grinned. “I’ll take you to dinner in Kalispell.”

      She could only stare at him. Clearly he was insane.

      “Oh.” A smile brightened Erin’s face. “Spencer’s here.”

      Lila turned and waved. She really liked Spencer, and was thrilled Erin had found love and the deep sense of contentment he’d provided in her life. Knowing that helped Lila ignore the occasional pang of jealousy. Over not having someone to share a pillow with at night. Or be there to listen to the highs and lows of her day. And she missed having Erin around all the time.

      “Do you mind if I leave?” Erin asked, watching her closely. “Have you got this?”

      Lila gave her a big smile. “Oh yeah.”

      “There he is,” Baxter said, peering in the direction of the corrals. “Landers.”

      “Big,” Lila reminded him as she walked backward. “And no dinner.” She turned toward Clint and hurried her pace when she saw him and Charlie shake hands.

      If he went for his truck, she’d head him off.

      She didn’t have to do anything but keep walking. The moment Clint saw her, he stopped.

      “Hey,” she said, wishing she’d changed her big sloppy sweatshirt for something nicer.

      “Hello again.”

      “I see you found Charlie.”

      Clint nodded. “Nice guy. Knows horses.”

      “That’s what I’ve heard. Me, I don’t know anything about... I saw your chestnuts.”

      He blinked, and it might have been a trick of the light, but his face darkened.

      “Um, geldings? Horses?”

      “Right. Sure.”

      “Did I say that wrong?”

      “No.” He shook his head. “I knew exactly