Page 74 of A Cameo for a Cowgirl

He nodded. “Or it could be just friends together. Up to you.”

A man who let her call the shots like this? He could definitely be called date-worthy.

“Well, if you do decide to watch it, make sure you follow it with a more faithful adaptation. I’m a big fan of the Romola Garai Emma miniseries.”

“Because?”

“Because she gives the character of Emma a degree of humanity, so we feel for her, rather than some adaptations that make it hard to care for a character who can come across as a little arrogant.”

She studied him, wondering if he referred to more than just the character of Emma in that statement. “Sometimes the viewer needs a little longer to truly understand a person.”

“And sometimes a man can take a person’s measure at a glance.” He smiled.

Her heart fluttered. Did he mean to suggest he had fallen for her quickly? “That certainly wasn’t true in our case.”

“Maybe two glances for me, then.”

She chuckled. “Come on. At least five.”

“Hey, I just didn’t know who I was dealing with.” His head tilted. “Does this mean what I hope it means?”

“It depends on what you hope it means,” she said, channeling her inner Ainsley coyness.

His smile broadened. “It means I really hope that you’re not wishing me to leave, because I really would like the chance to take you out for dinner.”

Her stomach swooped. “Well, a girl has to eat, I suppose.”

His eyes lit. “So that’s a yes? Tonight?”

“Maybe.”

“Aw, please don’t maybe me, Cassie. You know I’ve been wanting this for ages—”

“Have you two finished?” Mal called. “Come on. Let’s get this scene done.”

She rose, her makeup was adjusted, but there was little point in too much. Most of this scene would be focused on Harrison. Harrison—who she’d be having dinner with tonight!

Due to the cold temperatures of the water she was instructed to pull on surf leggings which fit nicely under her skirt. She hoped they could do this quickly.

“Ready?” Harrison asked her.

“As I’ll ever be.” Thank You God for keeping us safe.

She followed Mal to where she was supposed to be, and held Ginger’s reins. Thanks to the magic of motion picture the scene of her cantering to the water’s edge would be interspersed with Harrison on Buddy. She would catch up to him and then they would have a series of shots taken while she was not riding but it would be made to look like she was. She’d grab Buddy’s reins and slow the horse, then Harrison would fall onto a crash mat. Then there’d be another shot of him falling into the water.

The next two hours were busy, a chaotic scramble of shots. Harrison was dumped into the creek then dried off, dunked then dried off, until Mal pronounced himself satisfied.

Then it was her turn. The safety advisor had instructed where they were to stand, and what they would do. She would wade into the water, find the underwater safety hand rail that they’d stand behind, and they’d “struggle” to swim while cameras from all different angles filmed.

“We’ll keep rolling, because we don’t want to have to put you through this too many times, and we can splice and dice as necessary if we have footage from all kinds of angles to work with.”

It felt funny to think that this pool in the creek where she had gone swimming all her life would now be considered a hazard on the screens of millions around the world, but such was the nature of storytelling.

She followed Mal’s cues, and winced as directed as the cold water seeped through her clothes. There was a world of difference between swimming here on a hot day in her swimsuit and being layered in clothes. It was so heavy. And all the physical falling down before meant it was already hard to breathe. She was waist deep, searching for the makeshift rail as their safety protocols warranted.

“You okay?” Harrison murmured.

“Yeah. You?”

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