Page 10 of A Cameo for a Cowgirl

“I know what you meant.” Was it un-Christian of her to enjoy watching him squirm? This day kept getting better and better. “Well, are you definitely okay to go back to sleep now?”

“You want to hold my hand and make sure?” he grouched.

Yeah, that’d be a solid “no.”

He turned, and the way the shirt clung to him she could count his abs. If she’d been a different kind of woman she might take a mental picture. But because she wasn’t that kind of woman, she looked away. “Alright then. If you’re sure you’ll be okay.”

“I’m not a child,” he snapped.

“Of course you’re not.”

His gaze lasered into hers in a look that said he was very much not amused by her tone. She swallowed a smile. She hadn’t meant to sound patronizing. Well, not much, anyway.

If his eyes narrowed anymore they might shut. Which might be good for all concerned. “I’ll let you get back to sleep now, then shall I?” She nodded to Chuck. “Have fun with that.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Her lips quirked, and she hurried back to Ginger, untying her. Well, if she needed confirmation, there it was. The show’s big handsome hero was afraid of mice. And was definitely not a morning person. He couldn’t be more opposite to her if he tried.

She moved to where sounds from the dining hall suggested the cooks were already up and preparing breakfast. Most of the cast and crew would take another hour before they would wake, but days like today with predicted fine weather meant it was important for people to make the most of the daylight hours while they could. She went inside.

“Hey Ms. James!” Annie Hunter, the production’s chief cook, beamed at her.

“Mornin’.” Cassie grinned. She did love a person who appreciated an early start like she did.

“Usual?”

“Please.”

Annie moved to the coffee pot and poured Cassie a cup. “I haven’t had a chance to get the fixings out yet.”

“I know where it all is.” Cassie drew out the plastic tub of creamers and sweetener varieties and placed them on the table next to where Annie hefted the coffee urn. Real milk and real cream would come out when the first of the real crew straggled in. “I hope the pipes are all still working?”

“You did good, hon. It’s all working as it should be.”

Phew. “Thank You, God.”

“Amen,” Annie agreed. “We don’t want no more complaints about the coffee not being hot enough, now do we?”

“No, ma’am.”

“I get the impression a certain somebody is addicted to the stuff.”

“Mm-hm.”

Annie winked. “Good thing that man is plenty fine to look at, right?”

If you liked your cup of joe with a shot of snarl in the morning. “Sure.”

“I mean, Tanner was good-looking and all, but I always felt there was something just a little babyish about his face, like I couldn’t quite believe him to be on Ainsley’s level. This Harrison, however.” She fanned herself. “Holy smokes. The man’s got a bit of something something about him, don’t you think?”

Cassie swallowed a smile, knowing Annie was just playing, doing her best to get Cassie to bite. Annie was a grandmother, and had been happily married to Ted, the lead horse wrangler, for nearly forty years, and had never been shy about offering her opinions about anything and everything—especially Cassie’s love life, or lack thereof. If Annie thought that about Harrison now, she would likely have combusted or melted into a puddle on the spot at the sight Cassie had seen just fifteen minutes earlier.

A cleared throat swung her attention behind. Then her jaw to the floor. She closed it with an audible snap, as Annie chuckled.

“Well, hello handsome. We were just talking about you, weren’t we, Miss Cassie?”

* * *

---