A Real Cowboy. Sarah M. Anderson
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was her own fault, she realized. She was the one who had suggested Bradley for the role of Sean. She was the one who had convinced Levinson that even a recluse like Bradley wouldn’t be able to turn down the comeback role of a lifetime. She was the one who had staked her career on something that seemed so simple—getting a man to say yes.
She was the one who had bet wrong. And now she had to pay the price.
She marched back up to the front door, her head held high. That was the second rule of negotiations—never let them know they’ve won. Her hands were shaking, but she managed to get a business card out of her coat pocket and wedge it in the screen door. The whole time, she mentally tried to come up with some contingency plans. Maybe she’d caught Bradley at a bad time; she knew where he lived now, and she had his number. She could try again and again—as long as it took until he at least heard her out.
Thalia remained convinced that, if he would just listen to her pitch, he’d be interested in the role. Actors, as a rule, craved public adoration, and what could be better than an Oscar-worthy movie?
No, this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. Still, hypothermia was becoming a risk. She wished she could go inside and warm up her hands and feet before she tried to drive, but it didn’t look like an invitation would be forthcoming. As she turned back to the Camry, she saw the headlights of another vehicle coming down the road. Someone else meant another opportunity to plead her case, so she put on her friendliest smile and waited.
A mud-splattered SUV rolled up, window down. Before the vehicle had even come to a stop, a woman with graying hair stuck her head out. “What are you doing outside?” she demanded.
“I was hoping to talk to Mr. Bradley.” Thalia kept her voice positive.
The woman gazed out at the barn. When her attention snapped back to Thalia, she looked mad enough to skin a cat. “And he left you out here? That man …” She shook her head in disgust. “Poor dear, you must be frozen. Can you wait long enough for me to pull around back and get the door open, or do you need to get in the car?”
Thalia loved this woman more than any other person in the whole world right now, because she was going to let Thalia inside. But she didn’t want this stranger to know how cold she was—or how long she’d been stuck in this frozen purgatory. “I can wait.” Her teeth chattered.
Without another word, the woman drove off. Thalia tried stamping her feet to keep the blood going, but it didn’t do much except send pain shooting up her legs. Just a few more seconds, she told herself.
However, it felt like several minutes passed with no movement from either inside the house or from the barn. Should have gotten in the car, she thought. Then the front door swung open, and the older woman pulled her inside.
“You’re frozen stiff!” she said in a clucking voice as she wrapped Thalia in what felt like a bearskin and pulled her deeper into the house. Thalia didn’t have time to take in her surroundings before she found herself plunked down in a plush leather chair. Before her was a fire burning brightly in a massive stone fireplace that took up most of a wall.
Rubbing her hands together, she scooted forward to soak up the heat.
“I’m Minnie Red Horse, by the way. Let’s get those boots off you. Nice boots, but not the best for winter out here.”
“Thalia. Thorne.” That was all she could get out as her blood began to pump through her frozen extremities. When Minnie pulled the boots off, Thalia couldn’t keep the cry of pain out of her voice.
“Poor dear. You sit there and warm up. I’ll make you some tea.” Minnie stood and pulled the mesh covers off the fireplace before she stoked the logs. The flames jumped up, and Thalia felt closer to human.
“Thank you. So much.” She managed to look at what she was wearing. Definitely an animal skin, which kind of creeped her out, but it was warm, so she ignored whatever PETA would say about it.
She heard Minnie shuffling around behind her. Thalia managed to sit up enough to look around. She was at one end of a long room. Behind her was a plank table, big enough to seat six. Beyond that was an open kitchen with rustic cabinets and a lot of marble. The whole effect was like something out of Architectural Digest—and far beyond the small ranch house her grandpa had spent his whole life in.
As big as the place seemed, it had looked much larger from the outside. Minnie had a kettle on. “Where are you from, Thalia?”
“Los Angeles.” She tried wiggling her toes, but it still hurt, so she quit.
“You’re a long way from home, sweetie. How long you been traveling?”
Thalia decided she liked Minnie, above and beyond the warm fire and the tea. It’d been a long time since anyone had called her sweetie. Not since Grandpa had died. Mom was more fond of dear. “My flight left LAX at 3:30 this morning.”
“Goodness, you made that whole trip in one day?” Minnie walked over and handed Thalia a steaming mug. “That’s quite a journey. Where are you staying tonight?”
“Um …” She’d had a plan, but her head was fuzzy right now. “I have a room in Billings.”
Minnie gave her a look that landed somewhere between concern and pity. “You realize that’s five hours away, and it’s already near sunset, right? That’s a long drive in the dark.”
Thalia hadn’t realized how far away Billings was from the Bar B Ranch when she’d booked the room, and given her current state, five hours seemed like five days. How was she going to make it that far? The drive out had been hard enough, and that had been during daylight hours. Fighting that wind in the dark on strange roads was kind of a scary thought.
“Here’s what you’re going to do.” Minnie patted her arm after Thalia took several sips of the tea. “You’re going to sit right here until you feel better, and then you’re going to have dinner. You came through Beaverhead, right?”
Thalia nodded, trying not to snicker at the juvenile name. Minnie’s tone made it clear that dinner was nonnegotiable, but Thalia wasn’t sure she could have hopped up and bailed if she’d tried. Her toes hurt.
“Lloyd has rooms he rents—as close as we’ve got to a motel ‘round these parts.” Thalia didn’t have a clue as to what Minnie was talking about, but she was in no position to argue. She took another sip of tea, loving the way the warmth raced down her throat and spread through her stomach.
“I’ll tell him you’ll be by later,” Minnie went on, as if Thalia was still with her. “That’s only forty minutes away. You can make that.”
Thalia nodded again. Now that she was returning to normal, she seemed to have lost her words.
Minnie gave her a tender smile. “I’ve got to see to dinner, but you rest up.” She stood and headed back to the kitchen area, muttering, “All the way from L.A. in one day!” and “That man …” as she went.
Thalia settled back into the chair, still sipping the tea. She knew she needed to be game-planning dinner with Bradley, but her brain was mushy.
She heard a door open. Men’s voices filled the space. One was grumbling about the weather, but the other—Bradley’s—said, “Minnie, what the hell is—”
Is she still doing here. That’s what he was going to say. After all, he’d pretty much kicked her off his land, and now she was sitting in his house. He sounded none-too-happy about the whole prospect. How was she going to make it through dinner with him? She debated thanking Minnie for the tea and leaving, but then the smell of pot roast filled the air and Thalia realized that she hadn’t eaten anything since she’d grabbed a sandwich in the airport. The Denver airport—eight hours ago.
“Now, now!” Thalia wasn’t watching the conversation—listening was bad enough—but she could imagine Minnie waggling a finger at James Robert Bradley like he was a child and she was the boss. “You boys go on and get cleaned up.
Dinner