“Lucky me. Which is why I’m trying hard not to screw things up,’’ I said. “I’ll ask you to respect that.’’
Jeb put up his hands. “I surrender. You’re the boss, and your wish is my command.’’
“Yeah, right.’’ We both laughed, falling into an easy familiarity. “So how come you’re still here? I thought for sure you’d deliver the stock and head back to the ranch. You still have that former prom queen at home, waiting on you to marry her?’’
He took off his hat; ran a hand through his dusty blond hair. “Yeah, but I don’t think I’m the marrying kind, Mace.’’
“No duh.’’
Avoiding my eyes, he glanced around at the assembled actors and extras, the camera operators and grips. My gaze followed his. Paul Watkins was deep in conversation with Toby, and Barbara was right beside the two of them. Tilton’s horse, still saddled, was inside the corral, though I didn’t see the action star. Jeb’s eyes continued roaming the set.
“Looking for somebody?’’
He grinned, a bit sheepish. The cowboy hat went back on his head. “I thought maybe Kelly Conover might be around.’’
“You’re a hound, you know that?’’
“I never claimed to be anything but,’’ he said.
Finally, a call went out across the set. “Settle, everybody!’’
High above us, a huge light on a crane powered on, washing the scene with brightness. A clipboard-carrying production assistant rushed toward me, speaking into the radio headset she wore. She stopped, and said to me, “They’re shooting Toby’s scene, where he’s waiting for his father at the corral. That horse with the saddle has to be moved out of there.’’
“No problem,’’ I said. “I’m on it.’’
As I started toward the corral, Jeb brushed my cheek with his lips. “For old time’s sake,’’ he whispered.
I kept walking. Maddie glared. Marty gnawed her lip. Mama crooked a finger and beckoned me toward them. I shook my head and continued toward the horse, grateful that at least Mama wasn’t yelling this time.
My fingers rose to my cheek. The spot Jeb kissed felt warm. Dammit.
I was almost to the gate of the corral when a loud boom sounded from above. In an instant, all hell broke loose. The horses spooked, racing in a panic around the small enclosure. People started screaming. Shadows seemed to be falling toward me from the sky. I heard Mama’s voice rise above the others: “Watch out, Mace!’’
I didn’t know whether to run or duck. The space around me suddenly got hot. Involuntarily, my eyes squeezed shut. An explosive force struck from one side, propelling me off my feet and into the air.
I coughed, gasping for breath. A suffocating weight crushed my body. When I opened my eyes, all I saw was dirt. My mouth was full of it. Had I already died and been buried in the earth? But then slowly, the smell of hay and sweat and a trace of manure reached my nose.
“Are you all right?’’
Jeb’s voice floated toward me from somewhere above. Maybe I wasn’t dead after all, since I suspected Jeb was unlikely to be upstairs with the angels. It took a moment to orient myself. The weight I felt holding me down was Jeb’s body on mine. The rodeo champion buckle on his belt dug into my right hip. I shifted slightly to look out over the ground. My head moved, which was a good sign. I saw three familiar pairs of shoes leading a pack of feet running toward me. Marty’s boots looked like doll shoes. Maddie’s were the same style, but bulldozer-sized. Mama sported sling-back sandals in raspberry patent leather.
Unless there was a shoe store in heaven peddling sherbet-colored footwear, I was still alive. Jeb rolled off me.
“Mace?’’ Jeb asked again.
“Yeah, I guess I’m okay,’’ I answered slowly. “What happened?’’
He sat up. Shaky, I stayed where I was, stretched out on the ground.
“That big light up there blew up.’’ He pointed skyward, to the crane above our heads.
I’d barely begun to comprehend what he said when the crowd of feet arrived. Marty led the way. “Oh, sister, I was so scared!’’
Mama was next. “Jeb, tell me my baby’s not hurt.’’
Maddie, panting, brought up the rear: “I predicted trouble for Mace the moment I saw him on this movie set.’’
“Hush!’’ Mama scolded her. “Jeb probably saved your sister’s life.’’
“I wouldn’t say that, ma’am.’’ Modestly, he ducked his chin and reached across the ground for his cowboy hat.
“Oh, yes you did,’’ Marty said. “You were just like the action hero in a movie, shielding Mace from harm.’’
“Hello?’’ I gave a weak wave. “Remember me?’’ I heard a murmur of voices in a growing crowd. Someone said, “The wrangler’s alive. Radio Barbara, and tell her there’ll be another delay.’’
Marty crouched beside me. “Of course we remember you! Look at these shards of glass all around you, Mace.’’
Pieces of the light, heat-blackened and jagged, littered the ground. The largest had fallen exactly where I’d been standing. I raised myself up to my elbows to get a better look. When I turned my head to the left, pain stabbed at my neck and right shoulder. I grabbed at it. “Ow!’’
Jeb put his hand on the ache, gently massaging. “I hit you like an offensive lineman. You’re really gonna hurt in the morning.’’
From my vantage point on the ground, I saw a highly polished pair of men’s loafers working their way through the crowd. I recognized them from last night, when they’d been lined up under my bed.
Just then, Jeb put an arm around my waist, pulling me to a standing position. My eyes traveled up from those loafers to dark gray dress slacks, to the badge buckled on the belt at Carlos’s waist. Still a little weak at the knees, I swayed. Jeb clutched at me, pressing me close against his side.
Carlos got to us just as Jeb tenderly picked a clod of dirt from my hair.
“You should have seen it, Carlos! Jeb was so brave.’’
As Mama’s words rushed out, a scowl worked its way across my boyfriend’s face.
“That light blew up and nearly killed her,’’ Maddie added. “Jeb knocked her clean out of the way. Good thing he’s used to mugging cattle.’’
Jeb tightened his embrace. Carlos’s frown deepened.
“You okay, Mace?’’ he asked.
Jeb spoke before I could answer. “She’s fine. I was in the right place at the right time.’’
“So it seems.’’
I tried to wriggle out of Jeb’s hold, but I didn’t have all my strength back. And, as Maddie had pointed out so flatteringly, Jeb is accomplished at roping and restraining reluctant heifers. He held on tight. The two men locked eyes. Carlos was the first to look away.
“I need to go find out what happened with that light.’’
“Wait …’’ I started to say.
“Your cowboy friend seems to have everything here under control.’’
“Carlos, stop …” My words bounced off his back as he turned and stalked away.
We stood silent until Mama spoke: “Well, he sure didn’t stay long.’’
Jeb shifted, but kept me in his hold. “Who put the burr under his saddle?’’
“You did, Jeb.’’ Maddie assumed her lecturing posture. “Have y’all ever heard of something called the savior complex? Well, Carlos has got it.’’
“He thinks he’s our Lord Jesus?’’ Mama gasped.
“No, because of events that happened in his past, he thinks he should be able to save everybody. Psychologically, he needs to feel like a protector. But he wasn’t here when Mace needed protection.’’
“Paging Sigmund Freud,’’ I said. “We’ve got an amateur trying to practice psychoanalysis.’’
“Glad to see you haven’t lost your knack for sarcasm,’’ Maddie said. “Criticize me all you want, but let me remind you: I studied psychology and human behavior in college while you were off communing in the forest with the plants and animals. Carlos may be mad at himself, but you’re the one he’ll end up punishing, Mace.’’