A Cameo for a Cowgirl

Chapter 15

“Now, don’t breathe in too tight,” Glenda said to Cassie. “You still need to be able to fit it when you’re actually moving.”

Why had she agreed to doing this? Because opportunities for a cameo for a cowgirl didn’t come every day. As Poppy liked to say, opportunities passed, they didn’t pause. So it was either help out and try this today, or forever wonder what if.

Which was why she was standing here, in the costume fitting department, trying to fit into some of those clothes that she’d always hung up in the prop barn, but had never thought that she might actually wear herself. Although the way she was going, there was a danger she wouldn’t even be able to fit into this. Proof that perhaps she’d indulged in a little too much honeycomb ice cream of late.

She soon found a way of adjusting the skirt and corset, so it didn’t bite her ribs too hard. And it had to be said the corset gave her a figure she hadn’t owned since her bridesmaid dress. She wondered what Harrison would say when he saw her.

Her stomach swirled in anticipation. She hadn’t seen him since that last encounter, with ranch work keeping her busy. But she soon would be in close proximity with Harrison, and after that last encounter when he’d prayed—he’d prayed!—she now sensed that this time together with him today—and potentially in the future—could really be okay. She could do this. They were both Christians. And adults. And seeing he still liked her—which still felt impossible but he’d said it, so he probably meant it—then the cameras would ensure no funny business could occur. At least until the cameras stopped, and she’d finally get the chance to find out whether he meant what he’d said before, or if he’d just been acting.

After she’d agreed, and Ainsley had got her agent to sign her up, and she’d signed a million forms and waivers, Mal had discussed the role in more detail.

Apparently, all she had to do was ride her horse—she even got to use Ginger—and creative license would show her thrown into a river, which was actually the creek of infamy from several weeks ago. Oh, she hoped there’d be no snakes involved today.

A short time later, she was in hair and makeup. It felt strange to be wearing this much make up again for the second time in four weeks, but she did have to admit the end result looked pretty nice, especially the fat curls in her hair. And when she finally exited the make-up trailer, she was met with a wolf whistle.

“Cassie? Hello, is that Cassie?” Ainsley grinned. “Girl, you look good.”

“Like I’m ready to stop a runaway horse?”

“Like you’re ready to give a certain Mountie a heart attack.”

Her cheeks heated, and she picked up the edge of her skirt like Ainsley did. Look at her, getting lessons at her age on how to act like a lady.

Then when she moved to the corral where Ginger was, she saw Harrison, who was stroking and talking to his horse. Dressed in the red and navy of a Mountie, he was everything handsome and honorable and heroic. Her heart fluttered. And now he was a Christian, Harrison was everything that a hero should be.

He turned and spotted her, his eyes widening, and he looked her up and down. Then gulped. Audibly.

Ainsley snickered, Ted chuckled, and Cassie’s cheeks grew hotter.

“Are you sure you’re gonna manage in this scene?” Ainsley teased him.

“If you need a replacement for Cassie, you can always use me,” Annie called. “I’d be happy to be rescued by Sweet Cheeks there any time he likes.”

Her husband guffawed. “I don’t know that the feeling would be mutual, honey.”

Harrison laughed but didn’t deny it, his gaze still fixed on Cassie.

Okay, from that look of intensity, he did indeed still like her. She shivered, her fingers plucking at the lacework on her puffed sleeve.

“Ah, good. You’re both here.” Mal gestured them over to the vehicle that would take them to the creek. “Walk with me while I explain a few last-minute things.”

“Have fun today,” Ainsley murmured. “I’ll be praying for you.”

“Thanks. I’ll need it.”

“You’ll be fine,” Ainsley assured.

Harrison patted his horse again and joined her at Mal’s truck.

“So, I understand that you know the country here better than anyone, Cassie. But for this, we need your hair and make-up to stay in place as much as possible so it looks as it should on camera. So we’re gonna drive you over and that way you won’t get too messed up before we’re ready to shoot.”

“Fair enough.”

“Harrison, it’ll be the same for you. We need our hero to stay handsome for as long as possible.”

Cassie snuck a look at him. Sure enough, his gaze was fixed on her still, his smile looking like it was branded on.

“Any questions?” Mal asked.

She shook her head.

“No, sir,” Harrison said.

“Good. Well, let’s get going.”

Harrison opened the car’s back door to her, murmuring “You look beautiful.”

She smiled, and slid in, then he closed the door and hurried to the other side and got in the back too. Mal sat in front next to the driver, checking over notes as the driver took them closer to the creek, the site of today’s drama. She glanced down at Harrison’s hand, resting near hers, and wondered if he knew how nervous she was. And it wasn’t just nerves about a role she’d never done before, but also about how to manage being in such close proximity to him. Because while this was acting, there was also a degree of realness in wanting this man to actually be her hero.

Her finger inched closer, Harrison looked down from where he was reading his script, then looked at her. Again, she sank into the depths of his gaze, wondering if he remembered what he’d said last time, about letting her lead the way. Well, she wasn’t as forward as some. Putting her hand next to his was about as forward as she could be. Her finger fluttered, grazing his, and a frisson of anticipation shivered between them as he cocked a brow in a silent question.

She smiled a yes, he nodded, and his fingers wrapped around hers. Her breath hitched, and she glanced down. This time she didn’t pull away. This time she was glad to have him near. His hand held strength, and surety, and promise.

Mal glanced back, his eyebrows lifting as he saw their joined hands. He cleared his throat.

She tugged her hand away, but Harrison retained it.

“Hmm. I’d heard some rumors, but I was never really sure. Is there something I should know?” Mal asked.

“Not yet, sir. But I hope there might be soon.” Harrison glanced at her. “It depends on what Miss Cassie here says.”

Miss Cassie couldn’t speak to save herself, her throat was so dry. She leaned forward, snagged her water bottle from its holder in the door, and sucked down blessedly cool water.

“Well, I can see that Nathaniel will definitely have his work cut out in terms of providing believable chemistry with Abigail, so don’t go getting too hot and heavy today you two.”

Now her cheeks were blazing.

Harrison gently squeezed her hand, and smiled. “Last I remember that creek wasn’t too hot, so you won’t need to worry.”

How weird that she could wrangle a baby bull to the ground but this man made her feel weaker than one of Miranda’s newborn kittens. She could suddenly understand why romance fiction had so many women swooning. She’d always wondered what made a hero swoony. Now she knew. She was glad she was sitting down because her knees felt weak.

They arrived at the creek, and it wasn’t long before the horse trailers arrived with Ginger and Harrison’s horse. She’d been told there would be some shots taken of her riding along the ridge, and she was happy enough to start her acting career with that.

“Break a leg,” Harrison murmured, pressing his hands together in a praying motion, before she was whisked away by Mal.

“Okay, Cassie. You understand where to go?”

She nodded. They’d run through this a few times.

“So on my count, I want you to ride along the ridge. We’ll have someone in place to let you know when the scene is done.”

She mounted Ginger, and patted her mane, praying the mare wouldn’t feel Cassie’s nerves. Thank goodness her role meant she didn’t need to ride side-saddle. Her skirts were long enough and the scene would be shot from a distance, so viewers wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. The backstory was that she was alone, the lone survivor of an outbreak or disease at a farming community not too far away, and was sick and looking for help. When Mal had explained that, she didn’t mind looking helpless. It made sense if one was sick, then one would struggle to fend for oneself. Then a snake would spook Harrison’s horse, and she would try to save him. Finally, they’d both end up in the river where he’d help her, and they’d realize they knew each other from before.

“Ready?”

She sucked in a breath. Nodded.

“Go!”

She nudged Ginger, and they soon were galloping along the ridge, the wind blowing her beautifully curled ringlets awry. She glanced back, as Mal required, then bent down slightly, to suggest speed. Different poses would be spliced together to show from Harrison’s perspective from where he was positioned closer to the creek.

She peeked down the gully, saw his red coat down near the water, and memories surged of that day when he really had tried to be the hero. Fresh appreciation rose for him and for his forbearance towards her. She couldn’t wait for the chance when they could be alone and she could finally show him her gratitude.

An assistant waved a “cut” and she drew Ginger to a trot, then moved back to where Mal waited, studying the computer as the camera footage played back.

“That looks really good.” He glanced at her. “Maybe you’ll be a one cut wonder.”

“I’m happy if you are.”

“Then let’s move on.” Mal gave orders to set up for the next shot, when Ginger would be running toward the creek. This was when she had to act more, as her face would be seen. Normally a stunt person was doubling for a lead role, but because her role was new, it meant she would be seen more closely. She shivered. But not as close as the upcoming scene in the water.

“You doing okay?” Mal asked.

“Yep. I just hope we can get this done so I can do the water scenes while it’s still warm.”

“Good point. Alrighty people, let’s go,” Mal ordered.

She needed several takes for this scene—apparently her face hadn’t appeared quite scared enough. Her efforts to look afraid, gave her new appreciation for what people like Ainsley and Harrison had to do. Act with your face? Who knew?

This was soon accomplished, then they stopped for a break. She moved to where Harrison was sitting, running his lines. He had multiple lines to rehearse, and she had two: “Help me!” and “Here.” It shouldn’t be too hard to remember that.

Harrison looked up, then immediately put his script down and stood. “How are you doing?” His face held concern. “Are you doing okay?”

“It’s fine. I’m fine. I just can’t believe how much sitting around there is.”

He chuckled. “Don’t say that too loudly. Mal likes to think he’s pretty focused and I have to say this is one of the more efficient productions I’ve worked on. But Mal is used to shooting with this crew and cast, so they don’t need as much instruction as some, or so Ainsley says.”

“She seems to be a fan of yours.”

“And of you. You should’ve heard her declaring that she wanted this scenario to be about equal opportunity, so who knows what that means for future seasons? Maybe one day we’ll have a female sheriff.”

She laughed. “Like that wouldn’t be historically inaccurate at all.”

He grinned. “Unlike that Jane Austen movie you were watching.”

“You know it?”

“I’ve heard about it, and I could tell from what little bit I saw that Jane would be rolling in her grave.”

“I’d still like to see the rest of it one day.”

He eyed her. “Maybe we could watch it together.”

She swallowed. “Like on a date?”

He nodded. “Or it could be just friends together. Up to you.”

A man who let her call the shots like this? He could definitely be called date-worthy.

“Well, if you do decide to watch it, make sure you follow it with a more faithful adaptation. I’m a big fan of the Romola Garai Emma miniseries.”

“Because?”

“Because she gives the character of Emma a degree of humanity, so we feel for her, rather than some adaptations that make it hard to care for a character who can come across as a little arrogant.”

She studied him, wondering if he referred to more than just the character of Emma in that statement. “Sometimes the viewer needs a little longer to truly understand a person.”

“And sometimes a man can take a person’s measure at a glance.” He smiled.

Her heart fluttered. Did he mean to suggest he had fallen for her quickly? “That certainly wasn’t true in our case.”

“Maybe two glances for me, then.”

She chuckled. “Come on. At least five.”

“Hey, I just didn’t know who I was dealing with.” His head tilted. “Does this mean what I hope it means?”

“It depends on what you hope it means,” she said, channeling her inner Ainsley coyness.

His smile broadened. “It means I really hope that you’re not wishing me to leave, because I really would like the chance to take you out for dinner.”

Her stomach swooped. “Well, a girl has to eat, I suppose.”

His eyes lit. “So that’s a yes? Tonight?”

“Maybe.”

“Aw, please don’t maybe me, Cassie. You know I’ve been wanting this for ages—”

“Have you two finished?” Mal called. “Come on. Let’s get this scene done.”

She rose, her makeup was adjusted, but there was little point in too much. Most of this scene would be focused on Harrison. Harrison—who she’d be having dinner with tonight!

Due to the cold temperatures of the water she was instructed to pull on surf leggings which fit nicely under her skirt. She hoped they could do this quickly.

“Ready?” Harrison asked her.

“As I’ll ever be.” Thank You God for keeping us safe.

She followed Mal to where she was supposed to be, and held Ginger’s reins. Thanks to the magic of motion picture the scene of her cantering to the water’s edge would be interspersed with Harrison on Buddy. She would catch up to him and then they would have a series of shots taken while she was not riding but it would be made to look like she was. She’d grab Buddy’s reins and slow the horse, then Harrison would fall onto a crash mat. Then there’d be another shot of him falling into the water.

The next two hours were busy, a chaotic scramble of shots. Harrison was dumped into the creek then dried off, dunked then dried off, until Mal pronounced himself satisfied.

Then it was her turn. The safety advisor had instructed where they were to stand, and what they would do. She would wade into the water, find the underwater safety hand rail that they’d stand behind, and they’d “struggle” to swim while cameras from all different angles filmed.

“We’ll keep rolling, because we don’t want to have to put you through this too many times, and we can splice and dice as necessary if we have footage from all kinds of angles to work with.”

It felt funny to think that this pool in the creek where she had gone swimming all her life would now be considered a hazard on the screens of millions around the world, but such was the nature of storytelling.

She followed Mal’s cues, and winced as directed as the cold water seeped through her clothes. There was a world of difference between swimming here on a hot day in her swimsuit and being layered in clothes. It was so heavy. And all the physical falling down before meant it was already hard to breathe. She was waist deep, searching for the makeshift rail as their safety protocols warranted.

“You okay?” Harrison murmured.

“Yeah. You?”

He grinned. “Yes.”

“No smiling,” Mal called. “This is serious. Now, remember, you need to look like you’re in trouble.”

“Oh, I am,” Harrison murmured. “I’m standing next to her, and all I can think about is the last time we were here.”

She bit back a smile.

“That’s it, Cassie,” Mal called. “Look like you’re in pain.”

“Are you in pain?” Harrison asked.

“No.” Except, the weight of all her clothes was making it hard to stand steady on the rocks below. She could suddenly understand why fully clothed people drowned. She grasped for the handrail. Couldn’t find it. It had to be here somewhere.

Her booted feet were unsteady, unable to get grip, and the water was deeper. And all these clothes felt so constricting. Mal’s instructions to appear like she was struggling suddenly wasn’t so hard to do.

“Cassie?” Harrison murmured.

That’s right. She’d missed her cue. “Help me!” she called.

Then a stick floated past, and she recognized those orange and brown markings, and she screamed.

* * *

Harrison pivoted sharply,losing his footing as Cassie’s eyes grew large. Screaming wasn’t in the script. She moved sharply, and threw a stick. Huh? That wasn’t either. She cried out again, then her head ducked underwater.

No. That definitely wasn’t in the script. His heart hammered. This suddenly didn’t feel like acting anymore. “Cassie!” He ducked under and grasped her, boosting her to break the surface.

She sucked in air, and while Mal might call “good, good” from the sidelines, she seemed to be really panicking, gasping and choking like she’d taken in water and couldn’t breathe. His role on Beach Guard had taught him a few skills—and the mouth-to-mouth and CPR had proved handy—and he recognized that she needed to get out of the water. Pronto.

But the creek bed was too slippery to find his footing, her skirts too heavy, so he tucked her close as the cameras rolled from all directions around them, oblivious to any danger. Her eyes were huge as she peered up at him. She was frightened, she needed him, needed him to be the strong one for a change. Lord, help us.

He finally got a firm footing, and lifted her, and staggered to the shore. This might’ve been scripted but it felt plenty real. Memories flashed of when he’d last cradled her close. This time held a similar edge of panic and concern, but without her wanting to get away from him. Instead—praise God—she snuggled in close, one hand grasping his coat, even as she hauled in deep breaths that ended in spluttering.

His heart hammered. He couldn’t lose her. He’d never met anyone who could measure up to his grandma before, but this woman could. She was special, and he couldn’t believe no other man had recognized that before, but he was glad for his sake that they hadn’t. Because he wanted to be the one who helped her. Not just today, but every day. Cassie James might be strong, but even this tough cowgirl needed someone to support her, and he wanted to be that man. The kind of man she could trust. The kind she deserved.

Tenderness filled him as he drew her to the shore. “You’re safe now.” His line might be scripted, but it fitted just the same.

She snuggled closer, and he wrapped his arm around her like he was meant to, like he wanted.

But her hand was bleeding. Blood? That wasn’t in the script. “Why are you bleeding?”

Her eyelids were heavy, her breathing shallow. “I saw a snake.”

His heart tensed. “No way.”

“Way.” Her eyes closed, and her head tipped against his shoulder, and he automatically cradled her head.

Oh man. This definitely wasn’t in the script. He glanced across, but Mal hadn’t moved, apparently unaware of what had happened.

But there was no time to waste in for calling for a medic, especially as he knew what to do. So he laid her gently down on the grassy embankment, and ripped out his sodden handkerchief from his pocket then wrapped it tightly around her hand, pressing it in place. “I’ll get help,” he murmured, then grew aware of a camera in his face.

He glared at it, then glanced up, over his shoulder at where Mal stood. “She’s injured!” he called.

“Yes, that’s the plan.”

“No, she really is,” he insisted, before Cassie’s other hand grasped his.

“I’ll be fine,” she murmured. “I’ll bleed a bit but I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll take you to the hospital.”

“No, that will only cause a fuss, and it’s not like this isn’t similar to what we had already planned, right?”

“Cassie, no.” He reached down, touched her face tenderly, his other hand holding hers tight. “No.”

“Come on, Harrison, what are your lines?” Mal called.

Was he serious? Harrison stood. “That has to be a cut. Cassie just got bitten by a snake and I’m not joking. Medic!” he called.

“What?”

“Look!”

Harrison’s head swiveled to where the cameraman was pointing at the creek. Sure enough, the garter snake was there again. There was a general cry and hasty exit from the vicinity, along with cries to kill it.

“Don’t hurt it,” he yelled. “It doesn’t attack people unless threatened, and it’s got an important job in the environment.” Honestly, didn’t these people know anything?

The medic hurried over, and soon exchanged Harrison’s bandage for a real one, as Mal and the camera crew exchanged colorful views on the dangers of filming in the wild.

Mal shook his head, and moved to Cassie, regret in his features. “I’m so sorry Cassie. I never expected—oh.” Heavy sigh. He turned to the medic. “Will she be okay?”

The medic helped prop her upright as her breathing slowed until she could finally suck down bottled water. She coughed again, then glanced up at Harrison, her eyes holding a plea.

“Cassie?” Harrison hunkered next to her, wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “Are you okay?”

“She will be,” the medic said. “But she needs to go to hospital to make sure there’s no allergic reaction.”

“I’ll take her.”

“We need you here, Harrison,” Mal said.

“No, I need to be with her.”

“Harrison.” Cassie’s hand on his chest snagged his attention. “It’s okay. I really will be fine.”

This was a mistake. He should never have agreed to this. He’d only done it for his own selfish reasons, to have her with him, to have him play the hero for her damsel in distress. And look what had happened. He could never be her hero.

“Harrison?” She smiled up at him. Her good hand touched his cheek. “Thank you. My hero.”

Gladness chased gratitude, as the moment filled with a heavy intensity. Suddenly he didn’t care that they were surrounded by cameras and crew members or a director who was annoyed with him. He gently pushed his cheek into her hand and pressed a kiss into her palm.

Her eyes widened, and she lifted her bandaged hand to his shoulder, and he knelt beside her, drawing her up into a long embrace, her face tucked against his neck. “I’m so sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she murmured, her lips against his jaw.

She was so forgiving, so lovely, so tender. Cassie’s forthright attitude had taken some getting used to, but he wanted more of this in his life. More honesty, less pretense. And while he still wanted to continue acting, he needed someone who wasn’t caught up in the fakeness of popularity or photographic perfection. He wanted—needed—a woman with zero filter, someone grounded in God and the good things of life. Someone exactly like Cassie James. Someone whose character shone from the inside out, adding an extra layer of beauty. Honest. Loyal. Everything he wanted.

Then he knew a deeper impulse to kiss her, so drew back slightly, her lips a breath away. She smiled at him, which he took as an invitation, and closed his eyes as he gently pressed his lips to hers.

Cassie might be tough and strong, but her lips were as soft as silk, and the first silken caress soon inflamed his desire for more. “Cassie,” he groaned.

“And that’s a cut.” Mal appeared above them. “Looks like that creek was a little warmer than first supposed.”

Harrison smiled, remembering what had been said in the car on the way here. “I like that temperature just fine.”

“Hey Mal, come look at this,” the video editor called.

Harrison helped Cassie to stand. “I really want to come with you.”

“I know, but if Mal wants you here—”

“Whoa. Are you serious?”

Harrison’s attention shot to where Mal was frowning at the computer screen.

“Hey, you two,” Mal called. “Come over here.”

Harrison wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Are you okay to walk or do you want me to carry you?”

She chuckled. “You know, I’ve always prided myself on being an independent woman, but I think I could get used to having a strong man carry me occasionally.”

“So is that a yes?” He cocked an eyebrow.

She smirked, wrapping her arm around his waist. “Not just yet. But maybe one day.”

“Cassie?” the medic called. “The car is ready.”

“Look,” Mal commanded.

They watched the screen where some of the raw camera footage was displayed. One of the cameras had filmed Cassie in the exact moment she’d seen the snake swim between them. There was no sound yet, but she’d gasped, screamed, then picked it up and thrown it away. It was in that moment she been bitten. Then her head ducked under the water and he had rescued her.

Mal nodded, smiling at them. “This is perfect.”

Perfect that Cassie had been bitten by a snake?

“We have the double rescue, so we don’t even really need to use that footage of the runaway horse before. We’ve got it all here. She protects you, you rescue her. Win win, wouldn’t you say?”

He glanced down at Cassie, caught the way she smiled up at him, with those beautiful pink lips he wanted to explore again. He settled for pressing his lips to her forehead. “I’d say I’ve definitely won, that’s for sure.”