Page 18 of A Cameo for a Cowgirl

“Of course.” Her voice was subdued. “Please come this way.”

He followed her, and he wondered again at her role here. She seemed to be everywhere and have far greater involvement than what he’d first thought.

“Why were you at the chapel?”

She glanced at him. “Just finalizing a few more details for a wedding that’s happening the weekend after this.”

The weekend the production had off: a rare moment in an otherwise crammed schedule. He couldn’t wait to get out of Dodge and maybe go visit Banff and experience some real accommodation, sleep in a real bed, enjoy some luxury and peace and quiet for a change. He had a feeling that whatever waited for him at the barber’s wasn’t going to be much better than that water trough.

“Just in here.” She led down a small alley, then pointed to a door he hadn’t noticed before. “Got your key?”

“Yeah.”

He opened the back door, and she pointed to where the light switch was. He flicked it on, and instantly the room was bathed in soft light.

Huh. Far from being a decrepit spiderwebbed-dressed room a la Harry’s Saloon, this place was almost as nice as the hotel suite he’d stayed in only a few nights ago.

The bed might not be king-sized, but it was big enough for him, and suited the space. He peeked inside the bathroom, surprised that the compact space held as much as it did, with a shower over bath, toilet and washbasin on what looked like a reclaimed dresser.

“I hope the hot water works,” he muttered.

She flicked the faucet a few times, and a few seconds later steam rose from the bowl. “Looks like it does.”

Okay, then.

She moved to the window, lowering it a little. “I wasn’t sure if you’d prefer fresh air or not.”

“I like fresh air but I don’t want open windows if it means critters can get in.”

“There’s a screen.” She smiled. “You’ll be safe, I promise.”

Hmph.

Here in the light he could see her better now, and after the past few days of staying away, he noticed she looked weary, dark smudges underscoring her eyes. “What are you doing working at this time of night?”

She shrugged. “Like I said, I had to sort some stuff for the wedding.”

Why she was involved in the wedding when the production crew had that weekend off seemed weird to him. But who knew exactly what went on around here? Besides, he was too tired to care, and getting colder by the second.

“I’m sorry about the water trough,” she said. “I do hope you won’t hold it against us.”

He sighed. “It’s a hazard, that’s what it is.”

She nodded, her gaze falling to her boots, as if she was taking this personally.

“You just need to have those lights on,” he added more gently.

“I’ll make sure of it.” She glanced up, but her face was expressionless, her gaze not touching his. “Was there anything else?”

“No. Thanks.”

“I hope you have sweet dreams.”

“I doubt it.” Her lips pressed together again, and he realized how churlish that made him sound, so he quickly added, “I’m an actor. I have a vivid imagination. We’ll see.”

“Good night.”

She shut the door with a gentle click, leaving him to survey the room and absorb the peace and ambiance. For all the room’s updated features, he could also appreciate the ties to the past, such as the weathered wooden floorboards, and the cream-painted watering can that held an arrangement of sweet-smelling roses. Little touches that helped him get into feeling his character more. Little touches, like the oatmeal cookies in a glass jar beside the bed, with a handwritten note that said “Sweet dreams” that made him wonder if the cowgirl was responsible for that as well. Which was probably a step way too far for a mere production assistant, unless she really was someone who went the extra mile.

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