Close Enough to Touch (9 page)

It was. She was in Wyoming, after all. It was impossible not to
feel as though she’d stepped out of her real life and was watching it from afar.
You couldn’t get much farther than mountain wilderness, after all.

She couldn’t help feeling lost, though. For so many reasons,
and all of them were her own fault.

“I know what you mean,” Cole said.

“Yeah?” She didn’t turn toward him. She didn’t want to meet his
eyes. Not when she felt so vulnerable.

“I’ve felt that way before. Like you escaped something just in
time. You can feel it brushing past you. Danger you just barely managed to
dodge.”

Forgetting her need to stay removed, Grace turned to him with a
frown. “That’s it, isn’t it? What did you step out of the way of?” She couldn’t
imagine. He was a cowboy. He lived in Wyoming. He worked on land like this, with
creeks and trees and blue, blue skies. She knew there were problems in small
towns. Plenty of her friends on the streets of L.A. had come from small towns
where a parent beat them or an uncle raped them or schoolmates tormented them or
people just couldn’t find jobs. But Cole was talking about a whirlwind. A larger
danger.

His face showed nothing as he stared straight ahead, but when
he finally looked toward her, he winked. “You know. Bucking horses. Panicked
cattle. I’ve managed to dodge a lot of things in my life.”

He was blowing off her question. Ignoring what they’d both
meant. But that was fine. She wasn’t planning on telling him her secrets either.
Better that he didn’t try to get close. The last thing she needed was a big,
sweet cowboy confessing his emotional scars and wounds. In fact, the thought
made her shiver with fright. She had too much to carry as it was. She didn’t
want anyone else’s burden.

She should’ve realized that a long time ago. She was better off
alone. Her own mess was too complicated, even without letting someone else
thread their issues through it.

“Where’s your ranch?” she asked, ready to change the
subject.

“I just work there—it’s not actually my ranch. But it’s not too
far from here.”

“Can I see it?”

“Oh. Sure.”

Sure? He didn’t exactly sound enthusiastic.

“We’ll drive by on our way back. But right now there’s
something prettier to see.” He took a right onto a dirt road that wound through
the trees. Actually, it looked more like a trail than a road. Branches dragged
over the windshield. Shrubs scraped the bottom of the truck. She cringed at the
sight of the road falling away ahead of them and curled her fingers tightly into
the door handle.

“Uh, Cole…”

He took the turn easily and she tried not to look down to see
how far it dropped.

“Yeah?”

“Nothing,” she rasped, then yelped when the truck dipped
abruptly into a pothole. She could deal with navigating the back alleys of a big
city and all the scary things that lived in them, but this was a bit much. The
truck rocked. She wanted to ask Cole to turn around, but he couldn’t do that. It
would be a three-point turn into oblivion.

“Damn,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “Damn, damn, damn.”
She didn’t like this. Someone else being in control of her life. Someone else
deciding how close was too close.

The truck slowed to a stop. The engine cut off.

Grace opened her eyes, expecting to see something worthwhile.
Something worth risking her life for. But all she saw were aspen trees and
undergrowth that looked a lot like poison ivy. Then again, anything leafy and
green looked like poison ivy to her, which was why she tried to avoid it.

Cole’s door closed and suddenly he was opening hers. “Come on,
tough girl.”

“Are you making fun of me?” she snapped.

“Absolutely not. Your whimpers of terror were the toughest I’ve
ever heard.”

“Screw you,” she muttered, ignoring his hand to jump down from
the truck.

“You’re cute when you’re grumpy.”

“You know, nobody knows I’m with you. I could kill you out here
and just walk away.”

“You could kill me out here and then wander around in the woods
until you died of exposure.”

Grace crossed her arms and tried to frown at his smile. “I
could take your truck.”

“You’d never make it back to the road. That’s a ten percent
grade on gravel around a curve.”

He had a good point. She’d be stuck here if she killed him, so
she shrugged. “Did you want to show me something?”

His lips parted, but his gaze slid to the side and he shook his
head. “Come on. The trail’s this way.”

He started walking, so she followed. It was that simple. She
wasn’t going to stand around waiting for a bear to attack or some of those weird
pronghorns to wander up. Cole held branches out of her way and occasionally told
her to watch her step. Then the path opened up and they were standing on a
bluff.

Grace skidded to a halt with a sharp gasp. The whole world
looked spread out before her. Or at least the only part of the world she’d ever
want to see.

Rocks tumbled away into treetops. The trees rose up from a
steep cliff face that went down and down and down until it disappeared into a
dark green jumble of pines. And at the very bottom a silver river cut a path
through the earth, tracing its way out into the distance. Far below, she could
see a waterfall. Past that, another. And then the river disappeared into the
V-shaped valley.

“Oh, my God,” she breathed.

“You like it?” Cole asked.

“What kind of question is that?”

He laughed and turned to gaze out over the valley with her.
“Some people don’t care about things like this.”

“Some people are idiots.”

“True enough.”

“It’s incredible.” The word seemed wholly inadequate, but she
couldn’t think of something that captured the miracle of this view.

They stood in silence for a long time, and Grace tried to
absorb as much of it as she could. The beauty, yes. But the peace, as well. And
the wonder. It had been a long time since she’d felt wonder. But standing before
this expanse, she felt like a child, as if there were millions of things she
couldn’t know and never would. It was a relief from the feeling that she’d seen
everything already and found that none of it was very good.

“Do you think there’s anyone out there?” she whispered.

“People? Sure. There are a couple of campgrounds by the river.
Fly fishermen stay there. And people who hate the crowds at the bigger
parks.”

“It feels like we’re totally alone. It feels like not one
person has ever been here before.”

“Yeah.” She felt him turn to look at her. “It sounds like you
like that.”

“I do. I’ve never seen a place like this before.”

“Never?”

She shook her head and had to swallow a lump in her throat. It
wasn’t sorrow or even something as simple as joy. It was more like that relief
again. The feeling that she was small. Tiny. Minuscule. And all the stupid
things she’d done, and all the mistakes and all the pain didn’t mean anything at
all. It was all too small to matter.

Some people would hate the feeling of being insignificant, but
she felt filled with it. Overcome. “It’s beautiful. Thank you so much for
showing me this.”

“It’s nothing,” he said, but, God, he was so wrong about that.
Right at that moment, it was everything.

They watched in silence for a long time before they went back
to the truck.

Cole drove back up to the road. He took her farther down the
valley, every curve revealing another view, another breathtaking wonder.

When she could think again, Grace reminded him that she wanted
to see the ranch where he worked.

“Sure. Of course. You’ve got time?”

“I do.”

He took her back a different way, and in between two big hills
that would’ve been called mountains in L.A., he slowed the truck and turned onto
a dirt road. They passed under a sign that said Easy Creek, and then he pulled
to a stop.

“Is this it?” she asked as she looked over the wide valley that
flattened out in front of her. “Easy Creek?”

“It is.”

She could see ranch buildings a quarter mile away, and behind
them, the mountains rose in the distance. It was beautiful. He worked here every
day. This was his life.

“It’s going to be mine one day,” he said softly.

“Is it owned by your family?”

“No. But Easy’s like family to me. I’ll buy it when he’s ready
to retire.”

“That’s amazing.” He probably thought she meant the land, which
was
amazing. Beautiful and quiet and so
peaceful. But what she really meant was that kind of security. Cole was a
cowboy. Just that. He’d lived in Wyoming his whole life. He worked here on this
ranch with friends who were like family, and someday the land would be his. What
would that be like? To have always known where you belonged? Her life felt like
it had been a series of bad places and rushed decisions.

For a while there, it had gotten smoother. But it had never
been anything like this. It had never been safe.

“Thank you for showing me,” she whispered.

He drove a little closer, and she could make out a low, long
house with a front porch and dark wood walls. A big barn stood nearby, a wooden
fence circling out from it. It looked like something out of a John Wayne movie.
Two cowboys rode along a trail farther on.

He turned around before they got any closer.

It wasn’t until she got home and closed her own door that she
realized what had happened. Cole hadn’t wanted to drive up to the ranch, because
he hadn’t wanted to be seen with her. He hadn’t wanted to introduce a
purple-haired girl to the other cowboys.

She told herself it didn’t matter. And it didn’t. After the
beauty he’d shown her today, Grace could forgive him such a small, human
failing.

And anyway, she was tough. Just as he’d said.

CHAPTER SEVEN

G
RACE
WAS
BACK
IN
THE
THICK
of L.A.

That’s what it felt like anyway, all these people rushing
through the hotel with expressions that made clear they were important. Really
important. Certainly more important than anyone who actually lived in Jackson
Hole.

“You doing all right?” Eve asked.

“I’m great.”

“I know this is a lot for a first day.”

“I’ve worked on a lot of movie sets. I’m used to it.”

Eve let out a deep breath. “Good. Because I’m not. I’m really
glad you’re here. I didn’t expect to have this whole mess dumped in my lap. The
guy who worked with the studios on Jackson location scouting disappeared two
weeks ago. Apparently he left behind a mess of screwed-up paperwork and some
unhappy leasers. Nobody told me about that part of it when I agreed to take this
on. I thought I was just going to take care of a few details.”

Eve ran a hand across the back of her neck and grimaced. “I’ve
only done a little scouting before,” she murmured. “But, okay. Here’s the deal.
One of the locations has fallen through. This was supposed to be the final recon
on sites they’d already contracted, but now… Jesus. The director is here and
everyone is totally freaked out.”

“Who’s the director?”

“Madeline Beckingham.”

Grace blinked. Wow. Director, indeed. Beckingham was a
powerful, beautiful woman who’d made her mark by directing fiery, fast-paced
action movies. She was the daughter of Hollywood royalty, and at first, the
brass had treated her like the child of Joseph Beckingham. A woman to be coddled
and amused but not taken too seriously.

Not anymore. Now she was the heir apparent. Now she got
whatever she wanted, and she wanted a lot, if the rumors were true.

“Have you worked with her?” Eve asked.

“No. Never.”

“Well, here’s your chance. I need you to track down the
location coordinator and get the location list I was promised. I’m going to find
the manager and find out exactly what’s going on with each site. None of my
files are up-to-date, and from what I’ve heard, the scout took all his files
with him. They’re going to need new photos, the specs reverified…”

“Got it. I’ll get everything I can from the coordinator.”

Grace had never done anything like this, but she approached it
the way she did anything else. She jumped in and dared the world to screw her
over. Sometimes that didn’t work out very well and the world happily called her
bluff, but she wasn’t sure how else to get through life. She figured if she was
going down, she’d go down swinging.

In this case, it worked out fine. Three hours later when
everyone broke for lunch, Grace could barely catch her breath, but she had a
notebook full of scrawled instructions, copied reports and a head full of
ideas.

“Tell me everything,” Eve said as soon as Grace joined her at a
tiny round table in the restaurant bar.

Grace went through everything while Eve ate her lunch. Finally
Eve stopped her and waved toward the other sandwich. “Eat. This is all beyond my
pay grade, but I think the river site is fine. They’ve got all the photos on it,
and the paperwork has already been filed. I’ll call Carly on the county council
to be sure. The ranch shoot, though… Shit. Uh, sorry. Pardon my language.”

Grace nearly choked on her food. “I think I can handle it.”

“I’m sorry to have thrown you into all this.”

“It’s fine. And they’ll only be here for a week or so, right?
Filming won’t start for a little while?”

“Oh, sure. But you know how that goes. They’re already behind
schedule. Nothing’s going right. I might have to bring more people in. Maybe one
of the employees from the old company has some ideas for—”

“Wait. I think we’re going to be okay. It’s just a new ranch
site that’s needed?”

“Yes. That idiot never finalized the deal, and now the property
has changed hands. We need a new ranch site with power and accessibility, but it
can’t be too modern. It’s for the opening scenes in the movie, and they take
place in the fifties.”

“That shouldn’t be hard to find.”

“It depends how difficult Madeline Beckingham will be about
what’s modern and what’s not.”

“Well, let’s try it at least.”

“Yeah?” Eve cocked her head and studied Grace. “You’re up for
that? We’re talking full-time hours. Overtime, probably.”

“Yes.” She was up for it. Surprisingly up for it. She would’ve
thought she’d hesitate after the past few months. Work had been bad enough, but
then Scott had started twisting her arm, making her go to industry functions
with him. The parties had been full of fake, grasping, ambitious liars who
swarmed like insects around producers and directors. They’d always made her skin
crawl.

But somehow this felt different. She didn’t know why. Maybe it
was the sense of independence. A feeling that they were on her territory now.
Stupid, of course. Wyoming wasn’t hers. She’d only been here a few days, and she
obviously didn’t belong.

So maybe it was just the pay. A week of working like that, and
she could actually send Scott some money. Enough to hold off his threats until
she got to Vancouver.

“It’s some kind of Western, right? They said they wanted an
isolated ranch with panoramic views for the sky shots.”

“Yeah.” Eve chewed her thumbnail and stared across the
restaurant. “It’s a big-money cowboy monster movie. I’ve got a couple of ideas.
A place I did a magazine shoot at a couple of years ago, but it’s probably a
little too modern-looking.”

“I have an idea for a place.”

“You? I thought you just got to town.”

Grace took a deep breath and told herself to ignore the
self-doubt that rose up, telling her to be quiet. “I did just get to town. I’m
sure you know of a dozen other places, but… I went for a drive yesterday. Have
you heard of a ranch called Easy Creek? It’s rustic and beautiful. A little
brutal-looking and isolated enough that you can do panoramic shots with no
interference. I know they said they could eliminate other buildings in editing,
but the isolation of this place might make things a little simpler.”

“Depends on how far away it is.”

“Not far, from what I remember.”

“You know how to get there?”

“Yes.” Probably.

Eve grabbed her purse and stood up. “Then let’s go check it
out. I need to get out of here for a few minutes anyway. You might be used to
this, but I’m not.”

“It gets easier,” Grace said.

“Really?”

“No, not really.”

Eve’s face broke into a wide smile, and her bright laugh
surprised Grace. She hadn’t realized how tense Eve was until she’d relaxed for a
moment. She looked younger and softer, and Grace found herself wondering what
her story was. Oh, well. None of her business.

“Come on. Let’s save Madeline Beckingham’s ass.”

* * *

T
HREE
HOURS
LATER
,
Grace left the Easy Creek Ranch in shock.

They’d done it. They’d really done it. Because of
her.

She’d never experienced anything like that before. She’d come
up with an idea, put it out there and everything had just fallen into place.

Well, it had taken a little more work than that.

Somehow, she’d managed to direct Eve back to the Easy Creek
Ranch with only two false turns. And as they’d driven down the long ranch road,
Grace had realized she’d been right. The place was perfect. Exactly the location
that had been described in the location list. Low hills obscured any views of
civilization, but didn’t rise high enough to block out the Tetons. The
buildings, clustered in a loose circle at the end of the drive, were sturdy but
ancient-looking. Dark wood aging to gray. Easy Creek looked like a symbol of
American ranching.

And somehow…somehow it had worked out.

Granted, the production people still had to approve it, but how
could they possibly walk away from such an ideal location?

Mr. Easy, the owner—and, she assumed, Cole’s boss—had initially
been skeptical. In fact, he’d said no. They’d laid it out for him, offering the
same amount of money that had been offered to the previous site owner. Then
they’d upped it. But he hadn’t seemed tempted until Eve had mentioned Madeline
Beckingham by name. The man was obviously a fan, because he’d perked right
up.

“Three weeks,” they’d explained. “One week now and then two
weeks of filming in a month or so. That’s it.” There would only be two scenes
filmed here, after all. The rest of the movie would be filmed in California and
on soundstages to accommodate the special effects.

Easy had finally agreed. Now they were armed with crude
measurements and dozens of pictures Eve had snapped. If Madeline Beckingham
liked it, the place was theirs.

As soon as they pulled away from the ranch, Grace and Eve
smiled at each other.

“They’d be crazy not to use this place,” Eve said.

Grace sighed. “I know. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Amazing. How’d you find it?”

“A neighbor showed me around. Cole Rawlins?”

Eve shook her head. “I don’t know him.”

“He works on the ranch.” Grace braced herself, thinking Eve was
going to follow up with more questions, and Grace wouldn’t know how to answer
them. But Eve’s frown had nothing to do with Grace.

“All right, let’s make this happen. I’m already sending the
files.” She glanced down at her open laptop. “Production needs to get out here
and approve the site and the money. They’ll take care of the legal stuff this
time. I don’t have the experience. But you and I will deal with the county,
since I know the council members. But it’s private land. There shouldn’t be any
issues.”

There were egos to stroke and payments to negotiate. But hours
later, production finally gave the go-ahead. By 9:00 p.m., when Eve dropped her
off at her apartment, Grace was exhausted, and the next day would likely be
busier. But she realized she hadn’t been worried about the mess she’d left
behind in L.A.

This felt like good, honest work, even if she couldn’t call
herself a good, honest person. It felt…nice.

Despite that her bed was no more than a cheap sleeping bag on a
wood floor and she hadn’t had dinner, Grace drifted almost immediately into
sleep. But she promised herself an air mattress the next day. She deserved
it.

* * *

S
WEAT
SLID
DOWN
his
neck as Cole pushed himself to finish his last twenty lunges. His muscles burned
and his leg ached, but there was no sharp pain, which was an improvement. At
first the pins in his leg had made him nervous. He’d been afraid to push it.
Afraid something would come loose, afraid his femur would break into four pieces
again, and it would be over. He hadn’t realized that the leg wasn’t the problem.
It was the cracked pelvic bone that might not heal right. Some sort of
separation that might need more plates, more screws. And maybe no more
riding.

That couldn’t happen. It wouldn’t.

He had to ride again. He was going to own land. Run his own
ranch. Live exactly the way he wanted to and answer to no one. He’d been saving
for thirteen years, ever since he’d woken up to the knowledge that he’d become
someone else, and his father had died disappointed in him.

After that time in L.A., he’d had a little money in the bank.
He’d rather have burned it than use it as a foundation. It was tainted. And
ugly. But it was also fifteen thousand dollars, and he wasn’t naive or
idealistic. Ranch work didn’t pay much. Hell, it really didn’t pay anything at
all. The only saving grace being that room and board were provided if you were
willing to live in a bunk.

But now, the money was trickling out of his account. He had to
get back to work.

He pushed himself to do ten more lunges, even though his
muscles shook and his shirt was soaked with sweat.

“Four,” he ground out past clenched teeth. “Three.”

He had to ride again.

“Two,” he grunted. “One.” He groaned through the last lunge and
then stood straight and hung his head.

Two weeks. Two weeks and then he’d be cleared to ride.

He grabbed some ibuprofen and did some stretches to loosen up,
then headed for the shower.

Sighing, he tried to relax his shoulders under the hot spray,
but the tension stayed. Another night when he didn’t feel tired. Another night
of lying there in the dark, his mind working and turning and trying to skip over
the worry.

He had too damn much time on his hands. Grace distracted him,
but there were only so many hours of the day he could spend thinking about
her.

Jesus, she was bad news. Foulmouthed and bad tempered and
itching to get out of Jackson the moment she’d set foot in it. She was also
fascinating. The look on her face when she’d seen that river valley… He wished
he’d been able to capture that moment. Ensure that he’d never forget the way her
suspicion and wariness had softened into wonder.

That had been a surprise. How her lush mouth had relaxed into a
sensuous curve. How her eyes had lost their darkness completely. Not like when
she laughed, and they sparkled for a moment as if she were surprised. The
darkness had simply opened up. There was something pure there, past the
pitch-black perfection of her makeup. Something young and untouched.

He wondered if she looked like that when she came.

“Shit,” he muttered, wondering where that thought had come
from. It didn’t matter. It was there now. And his cock thickened at the thought
of her beneath him.

What would she be like? Wild and rough? Quiet and solemn? He
had no idea. He’d never so much as dared to stroke a finger over her skin. Hell,
he’d hardly seen any of her skin at all. But he could imagine what she looked
like beneath her clothes. She was small. Five-two or five-three without her
heels. Delicate bones. Small breasts. But her ass… He’d checked it out, and his
fingers curled with the need to cup her ass. Squeeze it. Pull her tight against
his hips.