Page 16 of A Cameo for a Cowgirl

The barber’s was situated in the middle of the town, but according to the production schedule notes was not destined to be used in filming in the booked time period. Of course, things could change, and a particular building be requested for use, which she’d happily oblige: hello, increased revenue. But the beauty of the apartments was that they were all tucked away at the back, in buildings on the perimeter. Each had separate entrances and were designed so that while filming happened in the front rooms, someone could be living in the back and nobody would be any wiser. She and her father had installed bathrooms that matched building codes but gave no hint of their modernity from the outside, drains and pipes all disguised by wooden piers and fascia.

She showed Maxine the room, which she approved, then for kicks showed her the front as well.

“Back in the day a barber’s sometimes also operated as an undertakers and a morgue.”

“A morgue?” Maxine glanced around like she expected a mummy to suddenly fall from a closet.

“Don’t worry. We disposed of all the bodies we found. In the cemetery by the church.”

Maxine’s eyes rounded.

Cassie chuckled. “Just kidding. No dead bodies here, I promise.”

Judging from Maxine’s expression, Cassie wasn’t sure she believed her. “But why would they do that?”

“I don’t know. But in historical times, if there wasn’t a dedicated undertaker, then I suppose the man you trusted with shaving your throat might also be entrusted with preserving bodies.”

Maxine wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think I’ll tell him all that.”

“Probably best not to.”

After giving Maxine a key, Cassie opened the window to let in fresh air. And while part of her was sorely tempted to short-sheet Harrison’s bed, another part—the part that was trying to listen to the Holy Spirit and follow in Jesus’s footsteps—knew she had to let that antagonism die and show love instead.

Fine then. She’d make sure his apartment was the nicest it could possibly be. She might even deign to put fresh flowers in the room. And she’d be sure to put a Bible in a prominent position beside the bed, just like the Gideons used to do. Heaven knew the man needed it.

* * *

It was late by the time he returned to his trailer, only to remember he’d been moved. But where? The day had been long, and he had a vague recollection of Maxine saying something, but where…?

He stabbed his phone and got her number. “Maxine? Where am I supposed to be?”

“Did you find the barber’s?”

“The what?” He touched the back of his neck, then remembered what she had said earlier.

“The barber’s in the western—”

“—town, I remember.” He slapped his back pocket, found the key she’d handed to him several hours ago before exiting the site like most lowly production assistants did. Their accommodation wasn’t supplied on-site, unlike those crew members with better pay grades. He frowned. So what did that make the cowgirl wannabe? She must be more important than he’d thought.

Shaking off thoughts of her—thank goodness she’d been invisible today—he refocused on the matter at hand. “So, my stuff is all there?”

“Yep. You should be ready to move in.”

“And there’s definitely a real bathroom? I won’t have to go trekking back to the backlot toilets in the middle of the night?” Probably TMI, but it was important. Growing up poor in a place that sometimes didn’t have a functioning toilet left an impression on a man.

“You’ll like it there, I promise. It’s been renovated recently. I spoke to the owner and apparently Lincoln Cash stayed there before it got done up.”

Huh. He didn’t know whether to be more impressed by the fact his assistant had spoken to the owner when he still hadn’t, or whether to be challenged by the fact that if Lincoln had stayed there, then he now had to as well. No way was he going to let that man outdo him any more than absolutely necessary.

“Thanks, then.”

“Sleep well.” She ended the call before he could say anything more.

Hmm. If he hadn’t experienced a few more looks from Dana and the cook, he’d start to think he was losing his touch with women. And while he appreciated the fact that Maxine was new in this role, the fact a college girl came across as barely willing to give him the time of day felt weird, and more than a little wrong. That, combined with the cowgirl’s indifference and antipathy…was he losing his charm?

He trekked back past the mess hall, waved to a few of the crew who were still up, then followed the solar flare-lit path up the hill. He paused on the crest. Here, the western town slept in moonlit glory, and his heart skipped a beat or two. If he didn’t know better, he could’ve been transported back in time a century and a half. All it needed was for the saloon to have a few drunks whooping it up for a genuine 1800s vibe. But he was glad no drunks were here. He needed sleep, and the thought of fresh sheets and a real bed hurried him to where he thought the barber’s might be.

But the town looked different in the night. He’d always prided himself on his sense of direction, but the streets appeared to have turned around from what he thought he knew. Even entering what he thought was the main street seemed different now.

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