Page 17 of A Cameo for a Cowgirl

He peered up at the overhangs, using his phone’s flashlight to light the signs. Nope. That was the general store. That one, the haberdashers. A few steps further—nope. Harry’s Saloon. Man. Where was the barber’s?

The key was burning a hole in his back pocket, and he wondered at the wisdom of this. Maybe he should’ve stuck it out another night in the trailer. But two nights of interrupted sleep, knowing there was a mouse on the loose, was two nights too many. He’d flubbed his lines too many times today to feel comfortable about getting away with any more. Harrison could appreciate that Mal might be extending some grace to the newbie, but he suspected it’d pretty soon come across as unprofessional if it continued.

So where was the barber’s?

He glanced at his phone, half tempted to call Maxine again. But surely that would just make him look even more lame than she already thought. He was a grown man, for goodness sake. It shouldn’t be this hard.

A rustle from the hill raised the hairs on his neck. His fingers clenched. Nope. He didn’t believe in ghosts, despite the fact there was a cemetery nearby. It was fake, right? But when the shivering sound was followed by a loud screech, his heartbeat increased, and he reached out a hand. Felt something move.

He shrieked, stumbling backwards, then falling over and into a water trough, and released another yell. “Are you freakin’ kidding me?”

Sorely tempted to swear, he got up, his jeans now all wet, along with his smartwatch. He’d dropped his phone—hopefully not in the water—and checked the dirt, where he’d been standing. Took a step. Heard a crack. Did swear this time. He picked it up. Saw the cracked screen. Felt his heart fist. Whoever thought this was a good idea didn’t have a clue about occupational health and safety. “This is ridiculous!”

Then a light flicked on in the chapel.

No way. Someone was there, all this time? Had they heard him scream? Oh, man, he hoped it wasn’t—

He swallowed another word as a figure appeared. He recognized that white hat. What the heck was she doing out here at this time of night? Didn’t she have a home to go to?

“Mr. Woods?” She held up her phone, its flashlight mode activated. In the reflected glow he could see her wide eyes as she scanned him, head to toe. “What on earth—?”

“Whoever is responsible for putting accommodation in this hick town should be shot!”

“Excuse me?”

“This place is filled with trip hazards! A person could die out here.”

“A person could die anywhere, so I think you’re being a little dramatic.”

“I’m an actor. That’s what we do. Especially when some fool leaves water in a trough and there’s no light or guard rail to stop a person from falling into it.”

She pressed her lips together, but the cough she gave sounded awfully like a smothered chuckle.

“It’s not funny! I could’ve been seriously injured! I’ve got a good mind to sue whoever is responsible for this.”

All amusement faded as she took a step forward. “Mr. Woods—”

Oh, he was Mr. Woods now, was he?

“—I’m very sorry this happened. We do have lights for nighttime, but I don’t know why they weren’t activated.”

A faint bell rang at that last word, something else Maxine had said. But what?

“You’re staying in the barber’s, right?”

“Yes,” he gritted out.

“Didn’t Maxine give you instructions about turning on the power box at the top of the hill?”

He ground his teeth. Maybe she had.

“Have you had a chance to find your accommodation yet?”

“What do you think I’ve been trying to do for the last twenty minutes?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Truly, I am.”

“Can you please just show me where I’m supposed to stay? I’m wet, tired, and really not in the mood to exchange small talk a second longer.”

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