The Last Goodbye (The Women of Independence) (2 page)

Grayson had been happily surprised when
he learned that she’d be playing the part of the mother, but according to Sean,
she’d lobbied hard for the part, even though she only had a few lines. She
wasn’t on the shooting schedule for several days, but she must have used her
friendship with Sean, as well as her star power, to wrangle an invitation to
come early. It was obvious that the ranch owner wouldn’t mind at all.

“I’m delighted to be here,” she said,
retrieving her hand from Jake’s grasp. “Sean has told me what good friends you
are.” She smiled up at the Producer, who grinned down at her as if he’d just
discovered her. “And thank you for allowing us to stay in your home.”

Jake seemed to regain control of his
senses. “My pleasure.” He gestured to an old army-surplus Jeep. “I’ll drive you
over to the house now if you like. Enrique can come and get the bags later.”

Grayson cast an appreciative glance at the
old Jeep. The vehicle was in top notch condition. The man could afford to buy
any transportation he desired, but he chose this old classic instead, and kept
it maintained. Grayson liked him even more.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to check
out the set the local fellow is building.” Grayson directed his remarks to
Sean, but stuck out his hand to Jake. “Grayson Crawford.”

Jake’s grip was firm. “Welcome to Green
Lake Ranch.”

“Gray’s our Director.” Carmen directed
her remarks to Jake, but looked at Grayson fondly. “This is my second picture
with him, and I’m looking forward to it, even if I do have just a small part.”

Two men had been standing back, watching
the exchange with interest. Sean drew them forward. “You remember Scott and
Marty from their visit earlier.”

Jake greeted the First and Second ADs. “Of
course. Welcome back.” He guided the group toward the Jeep. “Hop in, and I’ll
show everyone around.”

* * *

Grayson hadn’t realized that he was holding
his breath until the Jeep pulled away. He exhaled slowly and turned in a
circle, pleased by what he didn’t see. There were no jet contrails to mar the
achingly blue sky, nor were there any power lines in sight. It was a rare farm
that wasn’t criss-crossed with wire.

The ranch was situated in a broad,
shallow valley. Hills rose in the distance, almost completely covered by stands
of trees. Aspens appeared here and there among the Ponderosa Pines, their shiny
leaves fluttering in the rising breeze. A stream ran lazily through the bottom
of the valley, widening in front of the ranch house to create a good-sized
lake. As he watched, several ducks landed at the far end, but they were too far
away for him to make out what kind. It didn’t matter; just the sight of them
gave him pleasure.

Two barns stood a quarter of a mile
away, glowing red in the late afternoon sun. He headed toward them, eager to
check on the progress of the set.

He focused his thoughts on the movie as
he strode toward the barns. The scene that would be shot in the tack room was
pivotal. Played to perfection, it could be the type of scene that would have
the critics shouting “Oscar” for the actors in question. He’d gone over it in
his head so many times, he knew every word of dialogue the characters would
speak. Obsessive, perhaps, but he wasn’t about to let this one get away from
him.

He glanced inside the first barn. Empty,
except for a few large hay bales left over from last year. He nodded to himself
and walked to the second barn, eyeing it critically. The AD had chosen well; this
tall structure would easily accommodate the overhead shot he had planned.

He stood in the open doorway and
squinted, allowing his eyes to adjust. Music played softly in the background;
he thought he recognized Alan Jackson. He followed the sound and stood in the
doorway of the set, not believing his eyes.

“Hold it right there!” he commanded.

The slender figure in the corner stood
up, brush in hand. He was surprised to see that it was the young woman who’d
been with Jake earlier. What in the world was she doing here on his set?

“No, no, no,” he cried. “This is all
wrong. Where’s the contractor?” he turned to Nick. “Are you Danny?”

The young woman took a step forward, her
eyes flashing angrily. “If you’re going to yell at anyone, yell at me.”

He stopped and stared at her. A thin
shaft of late afternoon sun slanted across her face, illuminating the wispy
strands of blonde hair that had escaped from the loose braid that hung down her
back.

“There!” he said, pointing at Danielle.
“That’s exactly the effect I’m going for.” He took her by the shoulders and
moved her to the end of the room. “But I need it here, by the door.”

Danielle looked at the wall, then back
at him. “What door?”

“Exactly!” He dropped his hands. “I need
that natural sunshine.” He walked around to the open barn doors. “See those
doors? The sun shines in there between ten thirty in the morning and noon. The door
in the set was specifically placed to take advantage of that.”

Danielle frowned. “Not according to the
plans. Nick and I built this set, and I can assure you there was no door
there.”

“You built it?” he looked from Nick to
Danielle, then back to Nick.

Nick grinned and pointed. “It was mostly
her.”

Danielle had to admit she was enjoying
herself.

Grayson shoved his hat back on his head.
“Why am I even discussing this with you? Just put me in touch with Danny.”

Danielle considered his words for a
moment. “I suppose apologies are in order.”

Grayson looked at her like she was
crazy. “His apology is the last thing I want. I’m going to tear him a new one.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

He took a deep breath. “All right. What
exactly
did
you mean?”

She walked across the make-believe tack
room to where three bales of hay had been stacked to make a makeshift table,
grabbed a rolled-up set of plans and slapped them into his hand.

“I thought maybe
you
wanted to
apologize. And by the way, I’m Dani.”

“You’re Danny?” He said it as he
unrolled the plans, held them open with both hands, and studied them.

 “Danielle Flynn, Okanagan Restorations.
I wish I could say I’m delighted to meet you, but that wouldn’t be true now,
would it?” She glared at him.

Grayson released the plans as though
they’d burned his hand. They curled up, bouncing softly on the makeshift table.
“Grayson Crawford. I’m the director.” He gestured to the plans. “Wrong set of
plans.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Looks like I
do
owe you an
apology.”

“Think nothing of it.” Dani’s words were
laced with sarcasm. “A little shouting match is a great way to begin a working
relationship.” She tapped the wall with her knuckles. “You know, the tricky
part about building this set was making it free-standing. Putting a door here
shouldn’t be too difficult.”

A small smile flitted across his lips.
“Now you’re
really
making me feel like a jerk.”

She let him stew for a moment before she
replied. “Listen, you’ve had a long day. Jake is probably serving drinks up at
the big house right now, and Nick and I have been working since early this
morning. Why don’t we get together early tomorrow and figure this out.” It
wasn’t a question.

His shoulders came down a full inch and
he gave her what he hoped was a charming smile. “Good idea.” He looked around
the set and nodded. “I can see you’ve done a nice job.”

Dani nodded.

“Will I see you at dinner, then?”

“I don’t think so, Grayson.”

“Call me Gray.”

“I don’t think so, Grayson. It takes me
a while to calm down when I get riled; I wouldn’t be very good company
tonight.” She turned and walked out.

Grayson watched her go, and tallied up
the score. Dani 1, Gray 0. He waited for her to look back to see if he was
watching, but she disappeared around the corner without a backward glance, her
braid bouncing against her back. He had to smile in spite of himself.

* * *

“Way to go, Boss.” Nick caught up with
her. “I put your brush away.”

Damn, he was going to make her smile!
And she’d been trying so hard to hold on to her anger. Anything to distract
from the jolt of awareness that had shot through her when Grayson grasped her
by the shoulders.

 “You can thank me tomorrow.”

“Okay, Nick. I get it. I didn’t follow
my own rules about cleaning up.” She broke down and smiled at him. “Thanks.”

“I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” He
looked past her to the big house. “Are you going to go and make nice now?”

She followed his gaze to the sprawling
ranch house. Built on a knoll, it had a commanding view. She knew every inch of
the old place; had been spending her summers there for the past twenty years. Green
Lake Ranch had also been her sanctuary in times of grief. Her uncle, his
housekeeper Esperanza and her husband Enrique were three of the four most
important people in Danielle’s life. Her grandmother, Orla Flynn, made up the
fourth. She was blessed to know each and every one of them.

“Not tonight, Nicky.” A horse nickered
in the stable and she turned toward the sound. “I think I’ll take Fleet for a
ride. We both need it.”

“Good plan. I’ll see you in the
morning.”

* * *

Grayson’s steps slowed as he approached
the big house. He could hear soft laughter and the clink of ice cubes from the
direction of the front verandah, but he wasn’t in the mood to join the others,
and took a few tentative steps toward the back of the house. As he stood there
contemplating his next move, a screen door opened, and a short, round, dark-skinned
woman came out carrying an old enamel pitcher. White, with cobalt blue trim, it
reminded him of the enamel drinking cup his mother had kept out by the well
when he was young.

The woman hummed softly to herself as
she watered the flower bed by the back door. A riot of colour, it was well
tended. He cleared his throat and she looked up.

“
Senor
Crawford?” Bright, dark
eyes assessed him with interest.

He closed the distance between them. “That’s
right. I apologize for not going around to the front.”

She brushed away his concern with a
flick of her hand. “Not a problem. You can come in through the kitchen any
time.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Just don’t let in any flies.”

He laughed out loud; it felt good. “You
sound just like my mother.”

She walked up the low set of stairs and
opened the screen door. “Your mother is Mexican?”

He chuckled. “No, I mean about the
flies.”

She watched him close the door and
seemed satisfied. “No woman likes flies in her kitchen.” She motioned toward
the selection of salads, meats, pickles, spreads and a variety of breads that
were set out on the kitchen table, covered by plastic wrap. “Dinner is informal
tonight. A cold buffet. You have time for a drink with the others, if you
wish.”

“Thanks, but I wouldn’t be very good
company tonight. I think I’ll go to my room for a while.” He frowned. “What’s
your name?”

“Esperanza.”

He smiled. “I went to school with a girl
named Esperanza.” He stuck out his hand. “I’d feel more comfortable if you call
me Grayson, or Gray.”

“Well, Grayson,” she picked up a couple
of the platters. “Your room is on the second floor. Last room on the right at
the end of the hall, and if you want to go outside without coming back through
the house, there’s a set of stairs off the end of the hall.” She pointed to the
meat platters. “Bring one of those, would you?” She walked into the dining
room. “Since it’s a cold dinner, you can help yourself later if you like.”

“Thanks.” He picked up a couple of the
platters. “I’ll help you move all this stuff, then go to my room.”

Grayson splashed cold water on his face,
then dried off with a towel, studying his reflection in the mirror. He was
tired and it showed, but even so, he shouldn’t have snapped at that young
woman.

He looked longingly at the bed, but if
he lay down, he’d sleep for hours, and it was too early to turn in for the
evening. Maybe Esperanza had sensed his need to be alone when she told him
about the outside stairs.

He tossed the extra shirts and underwear
he’d brought into a drawer and hung up two spare pair of jeans. The rest could
wait; he needed to get outside and breathe some more of that clean air.

He paused just outside his door and
listened to the voices. Perfect timing; the others had moved from the verandah
into the house. He opened the door and stood on the landing for a moment to get
his bearings. His inner compass told him he was looking south. Ever since he’d
been old enough to understand the workings of the solar system, he’d been
interested in the sun’s movement in relation to earth. That knowledge had informed
his understanding of the importance of lighting when he’d started shooting
video all those years ago.