Hot Winter Nights

“What was that about?” Lila asked.

“Jason wants to use Clint in his next scene and said he wouldn’t take no for an answer,” she said absently.

As Erin continued to stare at Baxter, Lila could almost see the wheels turning in her friend’s head. She and Jason’s new flunky hadn’t gotten along from day one. Baxter was green and unfamiliar with the film industry, while Erin knew just about everything there was to know.

Since college she’d worked nearly every job there was behind the camera. She was supposed to be showing Baxter the ropes, which was probably why she’d been so grumpy lately.

This project was important for their future in the industry. Just like Lila, Erin’s big chance was coming up with the sequel. She’d been promised the first assistant director’s job.

“I know you,” Lila said. “You’re planning something evil.”

Erin smiled. “Who was it that said ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend’?”

Lila’s gaze went to Clint, his back to them as he pulled on a long-sleeve shirt. “Friend? Oh, I want him for so much more than that.”

2

CLINT PARKED HIS truck close to the circular drive in front of his brother’s house. He got out and lifted a hand to Woody, the foreman, and a pair of Lucky 7 hired men walking toward the bunkhouse. The air was chilly, but he didn’t bother grabbing his jacket since it was a short walk to the fancy wrought-iron gate. He couldn’t stay long, but he had time to kill and something he wanted to get off his chest. Nathan was always a good sounding board.

After letting himself into the small courtyard, he went straight to the front door and wiped the bottoms of his boots on the mat. He rang the bell, glancing around while he waited.

The place looked nice. Even with winter threatening to roll in with a bang, his sister-in-law had spruced up the courtyard with Christmas wreaths and garland. Strings of lights were draped along the stone archway and wrapped around the porch columns.

He liked Beth a lot and not just because she’d been so good for Nathan, bringing him back to life after his first wife’s death. Clint admired Beth for leaving small remembrances of Anne, like her prized roses and topiary garden. Anne had liked everything manicured and perfect, and Beth was the total opposite.

The door opened. “Hey, I didn’t know you were coming over,” Beth said, stepping back to let him inside.

“Yeah, I should’ve called first.”

“Oh, please. You know better. Nathan’s in his office, and I was just putting up some Christmas decorations.”

Clint smelled coffee as he walked into the large foyer. Pinecones and conifer branches littered the cherry console table. A ball of string had fallen to the hardwood floor. He scooped it up and gave it to Beth.

“I decided to make my own wreaths.” She rolled her eyes. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

“I just came from Blackfoot Falls. I saw you have the inn all decked out. It looks nice.”

“Really? You don’t think I went overboard?” she asked, frowning and swiping back wisps of blond hair from her eyes.

His thoughts shot straight to Lila. Not a shocker. He hadn’t been able to shake the image of her the whole ride over. Her hair was a lighter shade of blond than Beth’s, and Lila’s eyes were blue, a real cornflower blue you just didn’t see every day. She was a stunner, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in person. Or more like ever. He’d never been a moviegoer or had much time for TV, but if he’d seen her starring in anything, he would’ve remembered.

“I did, didn’t I?” Beth was staring at him. “Was it the lighted Happy Holidays sign? I worried that might be a bit much.”

He frowned, then recalled they’d been talking about the old boardinghouse Beth had bought and converted to an inn. “No,” he said. “It looks nice. Very festive. Sorry, I was thinking about that coffee I smell. Any chance—”

Beth laughed. “Of course. Help yourself.”

Clint continued into the kitchen, poured a mug of the strong brew and took it with him to his brother’s office down the hall. The door was open. Nathan was sitting at his desk working on his laptop.

“Hey, got a minute?”

Nathan looked up. “I thought I heard your voice. Everything okay?”

“Hell, it hasn’t been that long since I’ve visited.” Clint settled in the brown leather chair across from his brother.

“Yeah, but in the middle of a weekday?”

“You got me there.”

Nathan’s cell rang, and Clint gestured for him to go ahead and answer. It dawned on him that he wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted to say. Or even how to broach the subject without sounding as if he was complaining.

Naturally the call was short—bought him all of five seconds.

Clint took a slow sip of coffee, then cradled the warm mug in his hands. “I got the talk from Dad last night.”

Nathan’s eyes narrowed. “Did you tell him you already know storks have nothing to do with it?”

“Hell, no. I’m not sure he and Mom have figured it out yet.”

“They have three grown sons. I think they might’ve put two-and-two together by now.”

“Stop.” Clint shook his head. “There are some things a man just can’t ponder. No matter how old he is.”

“Amen to that. So, last night, was Seth there, too?”

“He’s still in Billings.”

“Partying with his old college buddies?” Nathan’s expression hardened when Clint shrugged. “When does Dad want you to take over?”

“Soon. He’d like an answer by Christmas.”

His brother’s brows shot up, but he quickly masked his surprise. It didn’t matter. Clint knew Nathan had expected him to run Whispering Pines eventually. Everyone did. The ranch had survived everything from droughts to poor financial management to be passed down through five generations of Landerses.

Nathan was two years older and a hard act to follow. He’d begun building the Lucky 7 from practically nothing while he was still in college. And now, at thirty-five, he owned one of the most profitable ranches in the county.

“Did Dad tell you to think about it? Or was that your suggestion?”

“It was mutual. He told me to take some time off, to really think. I don’t see Seth wanting any part of it. Do you?”

Nathan shook his head. “Hell, I don’t know what’s going on with that kid.”

“He’s almost thirty.”

“And acting like he’s ten.”

Clint rubbed his jaw. Man, he needed a shave. “Think it’s time for his two big brothers to have a sit-down with him?”

“Maybe after the holidays. We don’t want to stir things up and ruin Christmas for Mom.”

“Good point.”

“I’m more concerned about you right now.”

“Me?”

Nathan was studying him a little too closely. “You’re not jumping at the chance to take over—” He held up a hand. “And I’m not saying you should. After you quit college, I guess I just assumed you missed ranching.”

“So did I, but...” Clint hesitated. Damn, he should’ve thought this thing through. Not five minutes ago he’d realized he wasn’t prepared. He could’ve talked about the weather, the Denver Broncos making it to the playoffs, the price of alfalfa... The last thing he wanted was to make Nathan feel guilty for breaking tradition. The oldest son had always taken the reins. But that didn’t mean anything.

Yep, Clint should’ve waited. Although the talk with his dad had completely caught him off guard, and he’d been having trouble thinking straight, or about anything else—that was until he’d met Lila.

“Did you ever think about doing anything other than ranching?”

Nathan leaned back in his chair. “No, I haven’t. But clearly you have.”

“No. Well, nothing specific. It’s just getting pretty real is all. It’s a damn serious commitment.”

“Hell, you’ve been in charge since before Dad made you foreman,” Nathan said. “The men go to you when they need something, and we both know Dad likes it that way. Making it official won’t change much. Unless there’s something else you’re not saying?”

“That’s just it. I don’t feel as though I’d be losing out on anything, but I don’t want to just slide in because it’s what’s expected of me either. On the other hand, if I don’t step up and Dad were to get sick again, or if Seth doesn’t come around and start pulling his weight, I’d feel like shit.”

“I understand,” Nathan said. “So would I, but it didn’t stop me from building the ranch I wanted.”

Clint just nodded, but that was the difference between him and Nathan. His brother had always known what he wanted, and Clint wasn’t sure. He still loved ranching, and it would kill him if anyone but a Landers owned the land. Wasn’t that enough reason for him to step up? He’d never been commitment-phobic, so why was the thought of sealing his future making him twitchy?

“Sorry to interrupt.” Beth poked her head in. “I’m going to run into town for some ribbon. Do you need anything?”

“Blackfoot Falls or Twin Creeks?” Nathan asked with an amused gleam in his eye. Twin Creeks was closer to the Lucky 7 but half the size of Blackfoot Falls.

“Oh, please... Blackfoot Falls, of course. Who knows?” She batted her lashes. “I might get discovered.”

Clint shot a look at his brother. The night Anne had died in the accident, she’d sneaked off to audition for a play.

Nathan didn’t seem bothered, he just laughed. “Well, you call me before you sign any contracts.”

“Deal,” she said, padding in to give him a quick kiss. “Text me if you think of anything you want.” On her way out, she squeezed Clint’s shoulder. “We’re having chicken and tortilla casserole for supper if you want to stay.”

“Thanks. Another time.” The second she was out of earshot Clint grinned at his brother. “She’s got you eating casseroles?”

Grunting, Nathan leaned back. “Wait till you get married. You’re gonna find yourself doing a lot of crap you swore you wouldn’t do. Hey, you still seeing Kristy?”

“Not for months. It wasn’t going anywhere.” He shrugged. “I think she might have itchy feet. Wouldn’t surprise me if she moved away from Twin Creeks.”

“Is that what’s got you hesitating to take over from Dad?”

“Nah.” Clint shook his head for emphasis. “Anyway, it’s nothing. Just thinking things through.”

“You guys having any financial problems I should know about?”

“Nope.” It was a fair question. Years ago their father had made some poor decisions that had nearly bankrupted them. “We’re in the black.”

“Thanks to you,” Nathan said, his worried pucker beginning to ease. “But I heard you leased horses to the Hollywood people, so it made me wonder.”

“Didn’t do it for the money. Ben Wolf asked me for a favor. They wanted a couple of showy chestnuts. We have geldings with cream-colored manes and tails that fit the bill.” Clint had unloaded the horses without talking to the head wrangler. For some reason, he’d trusted Erin Murphy’s word the runaway stallion was an isolated incident. But he had every intention of driving back later to make sure they weren’t being careless with the animals. “You ever heard of Lila Loveridge?”

Nathan frowned. “Nope. She live around here?”

Clint wished. “She’s an actress. Blonde. About five-eight. I just met her. You and Beth watch more movies than I do, so I figured you might’ve seen her in something.”

“I can look her up,” Nathan said, straightening and reaching for his laptop.

“Nah.” Hell, he should’ve thought of that himself. “She’s so far out of my league, it isn’t funny.”

Even before seeing Nathan’s startled look, Clint regretted the stupid remark. What a dumb-ass thing to say. He’d just made idle curiosity sound like it was a big deal.

Jesus.

“Some jerk asked if I wanted to be in the movie. I wouldn’t have to say anything. Just stand next to a horse and look like a jackass.”

Nathan grinned. “What did you say?”

“What do you think?”

Lucky for him, his brother’s phone rang.

Clint stood. Perfect time to make an exit.

Glancing at the cell, Nathan said, “Sit. It’s only Woody.”

“I’ve got to go.” Clint glanced at his watch and started for the door. “We’ll talk another time.”

“You sure you don’t wanna stay for some of Beth’s casserole? I guarantee she made plenty.”

Clint laughed. “I heard leftovers are even better the next day,” he said on his way out of the office, grinning when he heard his brother curse.

Despite Erin’s assurance, Clint figured he’d go see if the head wrangler had showed up. Although if he was being honest, he wanted to see Lila again.

* * *

THE SUN HADN’T dipped behind the Rockies yet, but the sky was overcast, which meant it would get dark early. Everyone was rushing to make use of the daylight and making more mistakes. It was just one of those days. Lots of small, annoying things had gone wrong, and everyone seemed to be on edge. The two bars in town would likely be hopping tonight.

Lila wasn’t much of a drinker, but even she was considering a trip into town with everyone else. A beer shouldn’t cost too much.

She watched an older man transfer his chew of tobacco from one cheek to the other, and managed not to cringe. Disgusting. In the three months she’d been working on location in cattle country, she’d grown used to many unfamiliar customs. But chewing tobacco? Yuck.

The man was an extra, not an actor, but they were using him for several close-ups during the bar-fight scene. So Lila had been called to the set to make sure his fake injuries were consistent for each shot.

Initially she’d been in charge of hair, and hadn’t done much makeup. But she’d been learning a lot, and she liked having the variety, so she never minded pitching in when they asked for her.

“You need to make the scar longer,” Erin said, studying the photo and then the man’s jaw. “Bring it closer to his ear.”

“I’m back.” Glenda, an intern, showed up to take over.

“Let Lila finish the scar and then—” Erin glared at the man. “Would you stop chewing?”

He stopped.

Lila and Glenda exchanged private smiles. Erin was their hero. She was never mean or petty, but if someone wanted to be coddled, they’d better look elsewhere.

Every film needed someone as smart and efficient as Erin. Especially a low-budget, indy project like this one. So much was riding on it for a lot of people—including her and Erin. The film’s success could make their careers. Or conversely, bankrupt them. The two of them were low-level investors, but it had taken every penny they’d saved, every favor owed them, and they’d even taken out small loans. Lila tried not to think about that too much. It made her queasy.

She quickly went to work on the man’s scar, and just as she applied the finishing touch, Erin said, “Guess who’s back?”

Lila’s pulse quickened. “Shut. The. Front. Door,” she said, staring at her friend. Erin’s teasing smile was a big hint. Had to be the cowboy Lila had been daydreaming about all afternoon. “Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack. But don’t turn—” Erin sighed when Lila whipped around for a look.

“Where?” A black truck parked near the corrals hadn’t been there ten minutes ago. No sign of Clint, though. “Is he—oh, crap,” she muttered when she caught sight of Baxter.

Erin’s expression changed completely when she saw him hurrying toward them. “What do you want?”

“That guy...Landers.” Baxter was out of breath. “He’s back.”

“So?”

“Jason wants to use him tomorrow.” Baxter was so clueless. Whatever it was he wanted, his haughty tone wasn’t going to win Erin over.

“Need anything else, Erin?” Glenda asked, already backing away.

“Nope. We’re good for now.”

“You have to go talk to Landers,” Baxter said. “Jason insists that—”

“Jason told you to do it. Lila, got a minute?” Erin started walking toward the set, and Lila went along with her.

“Yeah, but—” Baxter’s face flushed.

Erin stopped. “But what? Landers told you to take a hike?”

Baxter’s defiant glare faded. “I don’t get why Jason has to have him.”

“Well, that’s a problem. You should be getting it. You need to understand those small details if you want to—” Erin cut herself short. She blinked, thought a few seconds and tried to hold back a smile. “Ask Lila to do it.”

Baxter’s mouth tightened. It was obvious he didn’t like that idea. Finally he turned to her. “Will you talk to Landers?”

“Maybe.” Lila let him stew while she willed her pulse to slow down. “Okay, I’ll do it. But you’ll owe me.”

Baxter had the nerve to look smug again.

Lila jabbed a finger at him. “Owe me big. Got it?”

Baxter grinned. “I’ll take you to dinner in Kalispell.”

She could only stare at him. Clearly he was insane.

“Oh.” A smile brightened Erin’s face. “Spencer’s here.”

Lila turned and waved. She really liked Spencer, and was thrilled Erin had found love and the deep sense of contentment he’d provided in her life. Knowing that helped Lila ignore the occasional pang of jealousy. Over not having someone to share a pillow with at night. Or be there to listen to the highs and lows of her day. And she missed having Erin around all the time.

“Do you mind if I leave?” Erin asked, watching her closely. “Have you got this?”

Lila gave her a big smile. “Oh yeah.”

“There he is,” Baxter said, peering in the direction of the corrals. “Landers.”

“Big,” Lila reminded him as she walked backward. “And no dinner.” She turned toward Clint and hurried her pace when she saw him and Charlie shake hands.

If he went for his truck, she’d head him off.

She didn’t have to do anything but keep walking. The moment Clint saw her, he stopped.

“Hey,” she said, wishing she’d changed her big sloppy sweatshirt for something nicer.

“Hello again.”

“I see you found Charlie.”

Clint nodded. “Nice guy. Knows horses.”

“That’s what I’ve heard. Me, I don’t know anything about... I saw your chestnuts.”

He blinked, and it might have been a trick of the light, but his face darkened.

“Um, geldings? Horses?”

“Right. Sure.”

“Did I say that wrong?”

“No.” He shook his head. “I knew exactly what you meant.” His gaze drifted toward the set. “You all work late every night?”

“Only when we’re shooting a night scene.”

Clint chuckled. “I’m sure I’ll have a few more dumb questions.”

Lila smiled. She liked having to tilt her head back to look at him. “You want to ask them over a beer?”

He met her eyes. His jaw clenched.

“Unless you need to get home for dinner,” she said quickly. “Your wife and kids might be waiting.” She paused long enough for him to deny it, but he didn’t. “I’m supposed to convince you to be in the movie. So, you know, it’s not personal or anything.”

He actually looked disappointed. “That’s a shame,” he said, his mouth quirking upward. “Since I don’t have a wife or kids.”

“No?” She cleared her throat. “Then how about that beer?”

3

THE FULL MOON SALOON had opened in July, but this was Clint’s first time in the place. He’d heard about the mechanical bull in the back and shouldn’t have been surprised by the small dance floor, since he knew a live band played Friday and Sunday nights. The only music now was something by Keith Urban coming from the jukebox.

It wasn’t too crowded yet. Some guys were shooting pool in the back, and half the stools at the bar were occupied by local cowboys. Clint nodded at two men he recognized from the Circle K. They nodded back, but their eyes were on Lila. That was probably true for just about every guy in the room.

“Table or bar?” he asked her, hoping she’d choose a table so they could have some privacy.

“How about that one?” she said, gesturing toward a nice corner table.

“After you.”

She led the way, and he did his damnedest not to stare at her behind. Not that he could see much anyway. It looked like she’d worn the same jeans, but she’d traded the old sweatshirt he’d assumed went with whatever role she was playing, for another that was just as bulky.

She pulled out a chair that had her facing the wall. “It’s going to get busy in here,” she said as she settled gracefully in her seat. “I saw two stuntmen playing pool. They won’t bother us, but you can bet someone from the crew will invite himself over eventually.”

Clint took the chair across the table from her. Sitting with her back to the room wouldn’t matter. No man with eyes in his head would be able to pass her by without a second or third look.

“I just realized something,” she said with a laugh. “This is a small town. It’s kind of like a big film crew where people think nothing of pulling up a chair whether you’re having a private conversation or not.”

“Yep, that’s about the size of it.”

“Shall we make a bet on whose people will interrupt us first?”

“To be clear, the waitress doesn’t count, right?” He grinned at her puzzled expression.

Lila turned just as Elaine got to their table.

“Good Lord. Clint Landers.” The short brunette stuck a pencil behind her ear and put a hand on her hip. “How long has it been since I’ve laid eyes on you?”

“It’s been a while.”

“Not since Anne’s...” Elaine glanced at Lila and smiled.

“I think you’re right,” Clint said, hoping to ease the sudden awkwardness. “It was at Anne’s funeral. Hard to believe it’s been four years.”

Elaine nodded. “I’ve seen Nathan a few times. He looks good. I didn’t get to talk to him, though, so tell him I said hey.”

“Will do.”

“Well, what can I get you folks?”

Lila surprised him once again by ordering a draft beer. He told Elaine to make it two, and was about to introduce the women when another customer called for Elaine.

As soon as she left, Lila said, “Okay, I must have a serious misconception of a small town.”

“You think we all know each other?”

“Yes, that, too, but how can you go four years without seeing someone?”

“Salina is a big county, and the ranches are all spread out. I don’t come to Blackfoot Falls all that much, and when I do it’s usually to pick up something at the hardware store. And since I live across the county line, I went to a different school than most of the folks around here.”

“But you’ve lived in the area your whole life?”

“Other than two years of college, yeah.”

“Your family is still here?”

Clint nodded and skipped the part that he still lived in the family home, sleeping in the same room he had as a kid. Sometimes it bothered him, even though it was a common practice with families who owned big ranches. But today the idea stuck in his craw.

“Do you have brothers and sisters? Nieces and nephews?” she asked, and seemed genuinely interested. She wasn’t being nosy or making small talk.

“Two brothers. Nathan is older than me. Seth is younger and a real pain in the butt.”

Lila laughed. “I have one of those, too,” she said with a wistful sigh. “Oh, I guess Britney isn’t that bad. She started college this fall and is feeling overwhelmed by life in general. But we talk a lot.”

“You miss her.”

“Yes. I miss everybody—my parents and brother, his wife. They all live in California where I grew up. These last three months are the longest I’ve ever been away from them.”

Clint could just stare at her all night. She had an expressive face and skin as fine as his mother’s bone china. Right now, that face was telling him he’d missed a cue.

Shit.

He cleared his throat. “I would think you travel a lot.”

“Not really. And certainly not for this long. We’re behind schedule. I’m not sure what will happen at Christmas.”

“You mean you won’t have the day off?”

“Oh, we will. Thanks to the unions. But I don’t know that any of us are going to have enough time to make it home.” She shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal, and smiled at Elaine as she set down two foamy mugs.

“I’ll start a tab for you folks, yes?” Elaine said.