I Choose You: A sizzling Hollywood Western romance
Kristina O'Grady
‘Hollywood drama, family secrets and heart ache. This story will not disappoint’ – Shelli (Goodreads)Lights. Camera. Cowboy. Helga Hansen is the movie star of the moment. Wealthy beyond her wildest dreams, beautiful and girlfriend of sexy Myles of the world-famous band 'The Knights' life could not be better. Until Myles cheats on her, that is. Then her latest movie is – again! – a career-threatening flop. She’s sacked her friend/agent in a fury. And, to make matters worse, her little sister’s life seems to be spiraling out of control and Helga’s just not sure how to help her out of the abyss.So the invitation to star in Brian Hargrave’s new movie – yes, the Brian Hargrave – is one she just can’t turn down. And if it means filming in Hicksville for what’ll seem like an eternity, so what? It’s time away from the big smoke and a chance to lick her wounds. And did someone say something about cowboys?The first sizzling novel in the brand new Copeland Ranch romance trilogy from Kristina O'GradyTHE COPELAND RANCH TRILOGYBook 1 – I Choose YouBook 2 – Because of YouBook 3 – All for YouPraise for The Copeland Ranch Trilogy‘Great second chance romance.’ – Megan Wylke (Goodreads) on All for You‘This is a story with an engaging plot, great, well portrayed characters, family drama and history that is dramatically revealed with near fatal consequences.’ – Elaine (Goodreads) on I Choose You‘I didn't want to put it down’ – Shari (Goodreads) on Because of You‘This is a truly engaging story and the two main characters are interesting, romantic and totally hot for each other.’ – LJT (Goodreads) on I Choose You
Lights. Camera. Cowboy.
Helga Hansen is the movie star of the moment. Wealthy beyond her wildest dreams, beautiful and girlfriend of sexy Myles of the world-famous band The Knights: life could not be better. Until Myles cheats on her, that is. Then her latest movie is ‒ again! ‒ a career-threatening flop. She’s sacked her friend/agent in a fury. And, to make matters worse, her little sister’s life seems to be spiraling out of control and Helga’s just not sure how to help her out of the abyss.
So the invitation to star in Brian Hargrave’s new movie – yes, the Brian Hargrave ‒ is one she just can’t turn down. And if it means filming in Hicksville for what’ll seem like an eternity, so what? It’s time away from the big smoke and a chance to lick her wounds. And did someone say something about cowboys?
Also by Kristina O’Grady (#u82a279bf-026b-5247-9481-cd5507e77d17)
Debutantes Don’t Date
Damsel in Distress?
I Choose You
Kristina O’Grady
Copyright (#u82a279bf-026b-5247-9481-cd5507e77d17)
HQ
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2015
Copyright © Kristina O’Grady 2015
Kristina O’Grady asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
E-book Edition © June 2015 ISBN: 9781474032551
Version date: 2018-06-20
KRISTINA O’GRADY
has always loved telling a good story. She took up writing at a young age and spent many hours – when she should have been doing her math homework – scribbling romance stories in a book she hid in her sock drawer.
She grew up on a cattle ranch in Western Canada and loves reminiscing by writing about cowboys and their horses.
In 2000 Kristina met her own knight in shining armor/cowboy who swept her off her feet and across the world to New Zealand, where she now lives on a sheep and beef farm with her amazingly supportive husband, three gorgeous young kids, seven working dogs and one very needy cat.
I Choose You is her third book.
Thank you for taking the time to download and read I Choose You. I do hope you enjoy Helga and Ben’s story. It was such a pleasure to write. I grew up on a ranch half a world away from where I now live and telling Helga and Ben’s story was almost like going home. Many aspects of my childhood crept into this book.
I would like to thank the Napier Write Club for their support. Thank you to John Ireland for coming up with the name DIRT for the magazine hounding Helga. Thank you to my Twitter and Facebook followers for helping come up with the name Bassville.
Thank you to Wairoa Hospital medical staff for providing medical details for drug overdose. Any mistakes are all mine.
Thank you to my fantastic editor, Victoria Oundjian. Without you this book wouldn’t be what it is.
And finally, all of my fans, friends and family, Thank You for your love and support. I appreciate you all more than you could ever know.
To Mick, because I love you.
Contents
Cover (#u85ba976a-946b-50c2-8a9a-6ecc675ef4d9)
Blurb (#ucee2b7cc-07aa-5c84-ac54-6c9da3c919d1)
Book List
Title Page (#u5824d51b-8396-5dd5-b2ff-65410e8a7dd4)
Copyright
Author Bio (#uc9aaf22d-92c3-5faa-9509-1ab0818a6130)
Acknowledgement (#u9fd227b1-aaf0-53bc-b15b-a9153378dd1a)
Dedication (#uad070407-278d-547d-918b-c11140c2baf6)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
Endpages (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher
Chapter 1 (#u82a279bf-026b-5247-9481-cd5507e77d17)
No sunglasses in the world were dark enough. The sun’s splintering rays still burnt through the lenses. And sunglasses couldn’t hide the fact she was shattered. The grainy pictures in the gossip magazines displayed at the newsstand ensured the whole world was aware of her devastation.
“Passenger Miss Helga Hansen, please make your way to gate number seventy-three. Your plane is about to depart. This is your final boarding call.”
This is what she got for flying economy. She had figured fewer people would recognize her if she wasn’t where she was expected. Now, thanks to American Airlines, every eye would be focused on her as she boarded the plane. Gone were the days when she could travel by alias – security was just too tight and she didn’t want to be detained for questioning for traveling with a fake identity. She shuddered at the thought of being locked in a room for hours with men and rubber gloves.
It wasn’t even her fault she was late. Gerry, the producer of her latest film, had held her up at the studio for so long that her driver hit rush hour traffic. That they made it here at all was a miracle. But with the not so subtle whispers following her as she rushed to catch her flight, Helga wished she’d missed her plane all together.
As she boarded, the airhostess vaguely waved her to her seat: 47B. She really should have flown business class at least. She squeezed down the narrow aisle past harassed mothers, whiny kids and self-important businessmen. She would have gladly paid the extra eighteen hundred bucks if she’d known today would have ended so horribly.
She wrestled her shoulder bag into the overhead locker and tried to get into her seat. The man on the aisle just sat there, looked at her but made no move to let her in.
“Could you let me in please?” she finally asked when the airhostess cleared her throat rather obviously, for the third time.
The man grunted and moved his legs two inches to the side but other than that made no attempt to move.
“You’re that actress, aren’t you?” he asked as she tried in vain to squeeze past him. He picked the unfortunate moment when her ass was right in front of his face to start the conversation. “The one who’s always breaking up with her boyfriends.”
Helga sighed and backed up, dragging his knee with her.
“That’s me,” she said, trying to plaster a smile on her face.
She couldn’t push past him and he wouldn’t move out of her way. She used the advantage of her height and, standing on her tiptoes, stepped over his legs, finally managing to arrive in her seat. She sank as deeply into it as possible. She could feel a bar through the seat, running across her lower back. She let out a huge sigh and wiggled. This was going to be a long flight.
The captain’s voice came over the speaker garbled and unclear but more than likely telling them about the weather and flying conditions. The flight attendants started their safety briefing and although Helga made this trip practically every week, she made a point of paying attention to the demonstration. With the way her day was going, she wouldn’t be surprised if they came in on a crash landing.
The lady on her right flipped through a copy of one of the gossip magazines featuring a lovely photograph of her with red puffy eyes and running mascara. The man on her left spent the first ten minutes leaning over her to peer out the window, and breathing heavily onto her breasts. She shifted as far away from him as the close confines of cattle class would allow. Would this day never end?
All she wanted to do was to crawl into her bed and sleep for a month. This had been another week from hell. She briefly entertained the idea of asking the airhostess if she could upgrade but the one who greeted her at the door was still shooting daggers her way whenever their eyes met.
She was exhausted and vulnerable and the last thing she wanted to do was discuss her personal life with strangers. Unfortunately that was exactly what her traveling companions seemed to want to do for the remaining 5 hours and 23 minutes of the flight. Oh why hadn’t she purchased a first-class ticket?
Once the lady overflowing the seat next to her looked up from her magazine and saw who she was sitting next to, Helga couldn’t get her to stop talking.
“You can’t let him walk all over you, honey. You have to stand up for yourself.”
Helga squirmed away from the lady’s concerned patting of her knee and shifted closer to the heavy breather who was now clutching both his armrests in a death grip as their plane took off.
“You know, honey, my sister used to be just like you, going through men like they were outfits. And I said to her, I said, “Honey, you gots to stand up for yourself. Where’s your self-respect? Well, you know what she did, honey?”
“No, I’m sure I don’t.” Helga dearly wished she’d taken some sleeping tablets before she boarded. She’d just have to get some out of her bag. Oh shit, no. Her bag was in the overhead locker and there was no way she’d be able to get past Heavy Breather to get it. She slumped back into her seat and waited for the words of wisdom to come from Honey’s mouth.
“Well, she got herself a decent job and found herself a rich lawyer man, uh huh, that’s what she did. They’ve been married now for six years and not once has she had her heart broken again. You stick with me, honey, and I’ll steer you right.”
“Thank you for your advice,” Helga said and closed her eyes behind her sunglasses. “If you don’t mind, I’m awfully tired. I think I might just get a few hours’ sleep while I can. It was sure nice to meet you though.”
As much as getting ‘advice’ from strangers grated on her nerves, Helga made a point of always being gracious to everyone she met. Firstly, she’d like to be treated with respect herself and somewhere in the back of her mind, locked far away, was the hope that someday she would be. And secondly, she knew only too well what one nasty review or comment could do. If she let her frustration out on this woman and that woman talked to her friends and they to their friends, well, it didn’t take a genius to see what kind of damage could be done. And let’s face it, the way her career had gone this last year, she needed all the supporters she could get.
Chapter 2 (#u82a279bf-026b-5247-9481-cd5507e77d17)
Helga could hear her phone ringing before she even got to her door. She scrambled with the keys, wondering if she’d get in the door in time to answer it. Maybe he’d changed his mind. Maybe it was all a misunderstanding.
The lock clicked, she pushed the door open with her shoulder, dropped her groceries on the floor, grabbed the phone mid-ring and kicked the door shut with her foot.
“Hello,” she panted as she watched an apple roll across the floor out of her grocery bag. Who knew that answering a phone would be such a workout?
There was a short pause and for a moment Helga wondered if she was too late and they’d hung up. She held her breath, her heart in her throat and waited.
“May I speak to Helga Hansen please,” a gravelly voice echoed down the crackling line. It sounded like the man was in a barrel.
It wasn’t him. She couldn’t decide if she was disappointed or not.
“Speaking,” she said into the phone, pushing Myles from her thoughts.
“Ah, Helga, I’m glad I got a hold of you. This is Brian Hargrave.”
“Mr.…” Oh my God! “…Hargrave. Oh, um, it’s a pleasure, sir. How may I help you?” Excitement bubbled up from her toes, making her light-headed. She leaned against the wall to stop herself from falling over from the mixture of elation, excitement and nerves zinging through every nerve-ending in her body.
Brain Hargrave was the top move producer in Hollywood. Not even Spielberg could touch him. Helga had met Mr. Hargrave several times but he had never, ever, called her before. She took a deep breath and tried to – silently – clear the lump of nervousness from her throat.
“I have on my desk, in front of me, a manuscript. I have a copy of the same manuscript on the way to your apartment as we speak; it should be there soon. I want you to play the lead. Have a read and call me tomorrow. Let me know if you’re interested.”
The wall could no longer hold her up. This was her dream. She pinched herself hard. She couldn’t believe it was becoming her reality.
“It’s not your usual role, I’ll give you that.” The gruffness of his voice rattled in her ear. “But I know what I want. I choose you. You, Helga, will be perfect.”
It was a lot to take in. Helga’s mind raced in circles around her head as she stared unseeing at the white wall across from where she sat on the floor.
“Mr. Hargrave – ” she started.
“ – Call me Brian,” he interjected.
“Oh, okay, Brian. Shouldn’t you be talking this over with my agent? Rosie Haul deals with this sort of thing for me.” She gripped the phone to her ear and suppressed a moan. “Not that I’m disappointed to hear from you personally, I just thought it odd…” She trailed off before she could dig herself a bigger hole. She slapped her hand against her forehead. Shut up Helga!
Brian ignored her babbling. She supposed he must be used to people making absolute idiots of themselves in front of him.
“I’ve spoken to Rosie,” he said. “Several times these last few weeks in fact. She is, shall we say, uncertain this is the role for you. But…I’d like you to have a look at it yourself before you make your final decision.”
“What? Oh ouch.” She’d raised her head from her hands so fast she cracked her head on the wall behind her. “You talked to Rosie?” she asked as she rubbed her head.
“Several times, yes. Hasn’t she told you?” He paused for a moment and then said, “I was afraid of that.”
Helga pushed down the acid of betrayal and forced herself to speak calmly. “Could you tell me a little about the role?”
Over the next ten minutes Helga focused on the words Brian was saying. Excitement rushed through her veins as he described the character he want her play. It was gritty and deep, nothing like she’d ever played before. It was the total opposite of the blonde sex symbol she portrayed in every movie.
She couldn’t sit still and longer. She got to her feet and paced back and forth in front of the side table, walking as far as the phone cord would allow. It wasn’t the first time she regretted her vintage telephone.
The more Brian talked, the more comfortable Helga became. Soon she was firing questions at him. The more he answered, the more she had to have the part.
“This role was written with you in mind,” he said just before he hung up. “I hope you decide to accept it.”
In the excitement, she’d almost forgotten.
Helga’s hand shook as she hung up the phone. Her heart raced in her chest, her breath fast. The emotions running through her body clashed against each other: elation filled her up so much her feet barely touched the ground, but the anger was like nothing she had ever experienced before.
Her agent, Rosie Haul, had turned him down. What was going on? What was she thinking? How could she do that? Had she even asked Helga what she wanted to do? No. In six weeks of Brian trying to convince Rosie that Helga was perfect for the part Rosie hadn’t breathed a word about it. Not. One. Word.
She couldn’t understand it. You don’t just not mention that Brian Hargrave wants you in a film. And it wasn’t as if Rosie could have forgotten that Brian had called her: he’d called her at least two times a week since he sent the manuscript over. She’d said no. Twice. Every week.
Helga went into her living room and sat down in her favorite red armchair. This couldn’t be happening. Her blood started to pound in her temples. She rested her head against the back of her chair.
The tabloids were eating her alive at the moment, her films were a flop. It seemed like the whole world had forgotten the good old days when she had starred in films like Love’s Crazy Ammunition, Rockabilities and The Love Thief. Now all they wanted to talk about was how crap she was at acting, Box-office bombs and her disastrous love life.
She was ready to throw it all in, give up and disappear. Maybe head off and buy a little place in the mountains. She didn’t want to, but she could feel the wall at her back and there was nowhere else to go.
But Brian Hargrave had handed her a lifeline with his offer. She knew she’d never get another chance like this again. Why had Rosie said no? Why hadn’t Rosie told her?
This was the absolute last call. Helga needed to take a risk. She needed to get her name back up there at the top or she might as well toss in the towel now and call it quits. But she wasn’t going down without a fight. Not yet.
She got up and paced around the room. Red-hot anger wouldn’t let her contemplate anything but the drive to her agent’s office to hash it out with Rosie face to face. Helga glanced at her watch as she quickly shoved her feet in her sneakers, not caring if she flattened the back of her shoes; she had plenty of shoes. She was halfway to her door before she remembered she’d left her car keys in the kitchen. Cursing, she jogged back to get them and shoved them in her pocket. Before she left, she called down to the front desk to see if Brian’s package had arrived. The receptionist told her it had and asked if she would like it sent up. After telling the receptionist she’d pick it up on her way out, she slammed her front door and ducked around the corner to the stairwell, bypassing the elevator. The contraption was so slow it was often quicker to run down the stairs. Besides, that way she didn’t have to go to the gym. It was just one of the perks of living on the top floor.
By the time she made it down to the underground garage she was panting. The exertion should have worn off the edge of her anger, but she was still seething. Throwing her sunglasses on, she spun her tires and her car screamed out of the parking garage. Helga paused only long enough to find a break in traffic before swinging into her lane. She may have been angry but she wasn’t stupid. She didn’t want to cause an accident.
She looked at her watch again. She had fifteen minutes before she knew she agent would leave for the day. Alarm bells should have gone off in her head when Rosie had started to leave the office every day at exactly five o’clock. What kind of ambitious career driven woman did that?
Exactly.
Rosie was incredibly hard to get a hold of outside of office hours as well, which made being on the road for work extremely difficult. Things had sure changed since Rosie married ten months ago.
Somehow Helga managed to find a parking space right outside the door. HAUL AGENCY shone in gold letters above the doorway.
Haul Agency was a very successful company. Its offices rose in glimmering glass above the asphalt. When Helga had first signed with the company, Rosie had run it out of her home office. Rosie was successful because Helga was successful. Of course, Rosie now had more clients and more agents working with her, but Helga had always been her bread and butter. Betrayal stabbed Helga in the chest again. That someone whom Helga trusted could do this to her and her career hurt. She shoved the ache away and embraced the anger.
She stalked up the steps, hitting the lock button on her key ring before entering the building. The muted cheep letting her know her silver Audi R8 would be safe until she returned.
The glass doors whooshed out of her way when she approached the entrance. She stormed past the cream reception desk and the security post next to it. Bruce the security guard smiled and waved at her. She nodded and threw him a smile that probably looked more like a grimace, and kept going. Poor man, he was really nice and it wasn’t his fault his boss was an idiot, but she didn’t trust herself to make pleasant conversation at this particular moment.
She scowled at herself in the mirror covering the short hallway to the elevators. She managed – just – to refrain from picking up on of those God-awful snake plants Rosie favored from the long black table along the wall and hurling it into the gilded mirror. She would love to see thousands of shards of glass explode into the pristine environment. It would suit her mood exactly.
But she didn’t want to give the cleaners extra work. If Rosie had to clean it up…well, she probably wouldn’t have been able to help herself.
She pressed the UP button when she reached the elevators. She didn’t have to wait long. The doors slid open with a soft ping then the lavish interior filled with Bruno Mars’ latest song and, despite herself, Helga felt herself relaxing.
It smelled like lavender and in a flash she remembered a conversation she’d had with her agent when Rosie was setting up this office.
“I read in a magazine that soft music and certain smells can relax clients,” Rosie had said while she lounged on the couch in her home. “In my business, my clients aren’t always stress-free, in actual fact, as you well know, Helga, this is a stressful business. I need all the help I can get.” Rosie had smiled then and sat up, fishing around in her satchel. “I have samples. Will you help me pick a smell?”
Emotion stabbed Helga in the chest and she was grateful when the elevator doors slid open on the top floor and she could escape the memory. She didn’t wish to recall how well she and Rosie used to get along. Life had been great while they were at the top, now it felt as though Rosie was leaving her behind.
Once upon a time, Helga would have counted Rosie as one of her best friends. Not anymore.
She walked towards Rosie’s office. She held her head high and refused to show it wasn’t just anger she was feeling. Striding past Rosie’s receptionist she didn’t even pause long enough to see her pick up the phone. But the intercom hadn’t even managed to ring when Helga threw the door open. It hit the wall and bounced back but just before it hit her in the nose, she managed to stop it with her hand. Anger surged again when she saw laughter lighting Rosie’s face.
***
Rosie Haul pushed the files around on her desk and checked her watch for the fifth time: fifteen more minutes then she’d have to go home. Her fuzzy slippers called her name. They were the only thing worth going home for. Anger and resentment greeted her every night at the door. Mark wanted to go out to dinner tonight but after the week she’d had she couldn’t get excited about playing dress-up with him and smiling as he schmoozed producers.
Rosie looked at her desk. Clients were starting to get demanding and their files were piling up. File folders and papers littered the surface. Her fingers itched to look over the new contract for Julia Roberts that had come in today but Rosie knew from experience she’d be lost in her own world for hours and hours: Mark wouldn’t be able to forgive her. He never did. Instead, she tidied up the papers and put them into a neat pile on her desk.
She didn’t want to admit it, not even to herself, but it was becoming increasingly clear that her marriage to Mark just wasn’t working out.
God, why was her life such a fuck up? She’d tried everything to make this marriage work. She’d even cut her work hours back ridiculously. She used to be lucky to get out of the office by eight o’clock and now she made sure she left at five on the dot. She’d done it to please Mark but it hadn’t worked. Nothing seemed to please him anymore.
In the midst of her failing marriage, her clients were suffering from neglect. She was going to have to hire another agent to cover for her, but margins were tight and it seemed a waste to pay someone to do her job.
She looked at her watch and sighed: eight more minutes.
One client in particular played on her mind. Helga Hansen was the very first client she’d ever signed. They used to be the best of friends but as Helga grew more famous they’d both became too busy to discuss more than contracts and scripts.
Helga’s last two films flopped. Rosie blamed herself. She should have been able to see those parts just weren’t right for her. Hindsight was twenty-twenty of course; it was easy to see that now. What Helga needed now was a blockbuster. Luckily a script had come in the other day which would suit her perfectly. It was a romantic comedy – something Helga played well – but it also had hard-hitting drama in it. It would showcase her acting in the best light. It’d allow her audience to see her in a grittier role and yet at the same time play the part they were used to seeing her in. And then – and only then – did she want Helga to start pursuing deeper roles.
Such as the one Brian Hargrave wanted Helga to play.
He’d called today. Again. She’d already told him in no uncertain terms that she would not allow Helga to take on that role at this time. It would be suicide. The critics would chew her to pieces. The last two films were bad enough. But one more flop and that would be it, Helga’s career would be over, down the toilet. Or at least she would never get another big role in a so-called blockbuster…not for a long time…if ever. But that man was persistent.
Four more minutes.
She straightened her pens then, against her better judgment, she opened the envelope sitting on the top of her inbox. A bright orange URGENT was splashed across the front. She peaked inside. He hadn’t. Not another one. Could that man not take no for an answer?
Two and a half minutes.
She needed to pee. She grabbed her purse and got up from her desk but before she could make it around her potted snake plant, her door banged open.
Helga Hansen stood in her doorway, her face like thunder, waving a piece of paper in the air.
Oh Shit.
“Ah, Helga, I was just heading out the door.” Rosie adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder.
Helga didn’t bother with social niceties. “Brian Hargrave called me this afternoon just after I got home from LA.” The color drained from Rosie’s face at the mention of Brian’s name. “It was an enlightening conversation, to say the least. What’s going on, Rosie? He said he sent you over a script.’
Helga watched as Rosie swallowed a few times, buying for time; she could see the cogs turning behind Rosie’s eyes.
“Yes, he did. That part wasn’t for you. Not at all your forte.” Rosie moved back around her desk and riffled through some papers until she found what she was looking for. When she turned back around the color had returned to her face and she was waving a wad of bound papers in the air triumphantly. “I also received this today! This script is perfect for you.” Rosie held the script out to her. “I was going to send it over this afternoon, but since you’re here you might as well take it now.” Rosie shook the manuscript a little to try and get her to take it but Helga just looked at Rosie with contempt.
Helga took a menacing step into the room.
“Why didn’t you tell me Brian wanted me? Don’t you think it was a decision I should have made myself? This is too big of an opportunity to pass up! What on earth were you thinking, Rosie?” With each question she took a step closer to Rosie. The elation she had felt when she was on the phone to Brian had charged her with excitement and now made the anger all the more pronounced. Why had her agent told him no?
Rosie dropped her arm holding the manuscript and looked at her with pity.
“Darling, I don’t want to be the one to tell you. I honestly thought you already knew, anyway. But you can’t take on that role. Everyone knows your acting abilities are better suited to romcom.”
“In other words, you don’t think I’m able to do it, is that it?” Helga could feel her jaw dropping open. Her own agent thought her acting was shit. “You don’t think I’m good enough.” She ran her fingers through her curls in frustration. Why did no one believe in her anymore? “How can anyone know if I can or can’t do a serious role if I’m never given the opportunity? Why must I always be stuck in the same role all the time, Rosie?” She could feel tears of frustration gathering behind her eyeballs.
Rosie moved back around her desk and sank slowly into her chair.
“It’s not that I don’t think you can act the role, darling, it’s the fact that you have never done a serious role and I fear it’s too late to try. The audience just won’t accept you as a serious character now. You’ve played too many ditsy blondes to all of a sudden change to a hard-hitting lawyer defending a sexual predator. Well, surely you can see the problem?” She leaned forward over her desk and rested her chin on her steepled fingers. “Listen, Helga, you are immensely talented – we all know that – but the fact is the last few films you’ve done have bombed at the box office and have barely broke even. You are becoming a risk and frankly, Helga, if you choose to take this offer from Brian, I’m not sure you will ever receive another offer…of any kind.”
“So that’s it then? You’re giving up on me? Just like that?”
“No darling, I’m not giving up at all. I will be more than happy to represent you if you sign this contract.” Rosie picked the discarded script off her desk and held it out to Helga.
Helga looked at the papers. She couldn’t bring herself to reach out for them. She would be giving up on her dream of working with the great Brian Hargrave if she took Rosie’s offer. Since she started acting, it was this moment she was striving for. She knew this was a once in a lifetime opportunity, one that she wouldn’t likely be offered again.
She shook her head and turned towards the door.
“Sorry, Rosie, I can’t. Thanks for all the help over the years. I’ll show myself out.”
She walked down the corridor with her head held high and her stride purposeful. She didn’t even pause when she heard Rosie calling her name. She let out a deep breath only when she was safely inside the elevator.
Chapter 3 (#ulink_1a192021-d476-5ef6-8216-53b92aa55003)
The truck flew over the cattle stop. Dust trailed his 1994 Dodge pickup as it bounced over washboards on the gravel road leading to the ranch. He’d reached Home Hill. The first place on the road from which the ranch house could be seen in the distance. He pulled over on the side of the road, stopped his truck and got out. Benjamin Ander Copeland couldn’t believe he was home. He’d avoided this place for the last two years. Too many painful memories floated about the place. Despite himself, a warm feeling invaded his chest and for the first time in a long time Ben felt a smile crease his face. He scrubbed it away. It didn’t feel right smiling here.
The smell of spring filled the air and assaulted his senses. Sagebrush, newly budding poplar and willow trees, bullberry bushes and new prairie grasses all sent fragrance into the air. Not for the first time in his life he was grateful he didn’t have allergies. It smelled like home. He took a deep breath and filled his lungs.
The remnant of last year’s grass scrunched beneath his cowboy boots as he climbed the small rise for a better view of the house. His dad had built the house for his mother not long after they’d gotten married. Before then they’d lived in the bunkhouse across the yard; a place where Benjamin had spent a fair bit of time in his last few years of high school. It had been his hiding place from his overzealous sisters. If he’d only known how life would have turned out, he would have stolen every moment he could with them.
“Well, Rachel,” he said to the air around him, “you’ve got your wish. I’m home now.” Benjamin stared down at the flat rock at his feet, marking the place his sister’s ashes had been spread two years ago. “I don’t know if this is such a good idea though. I’ve been away so long.” He cleared his throat and looked back towards the house. It was partially obscured by hills and trees but he could still see the roofline. His throat tightened at the sight. “I’ll come back and see you soon.”
He turned from the memorial and walked back to his truck. He sat there behind the wheel for a moment, fighting the memories. He took a deep breath and turned the key. It was time to go home.
His mom was waiting in the driveway when he pulled up. He was barely out of the truck before she was wrapping her arms around him.
“Benjamin Copeland, you’ve been away far too long. Don’t you put me through that again.” She loosened her hug and looked up at him. “I need you, you hear? And you need to be with your family.” She smiled, kissed his cheek and then let him go. “Come on in, dinner’s about ready.”
She hurried into the house before him but kept looking over her shoulder at him, making sure he did as he was told. Some things never changed, he thought. Even after all these years, his mom could still make him feel like a little boy. He gladly followed her into the kitchen; he could smell something good.
“Ben!”
Umph.
A whorl of golden hair flew at him. He barely had time to open his arms and catch his sister before she collided into him.
“Watch it, Beth,” he told her, a smile spreading across his face.
“Where the hell have you been, Ben?” Beth dropped her arms and stood before him with her hands on her hips.
“What do you mean?” he asked. “Am I late?” He glanced at the wall where the kitchen clock had hung his whole life. “Where the hell’s the clock?”
“Mind your language, Benjamin,” his mother said from the stove where she was stirring gravy.
“What? She swore too,” he said incredulously.
“Mom,” said Beth. “Hell, is not a swear word.”
“It is in this house.” She turned back to her gravy.
Beth rolled her eyes at him and smiled.
“It’s good to have you back, big brother…but you should have come home long before now.”
“I know,” he sighed.
The kitchen of the ranch house was exactly as he remembered it. The same worn wooden countertop shone in the late afternoon light as it flooded through the open windows above the sink. His mom’s china was displayed pride of place in a china hutch standing in the corner of the room. The white walls and the cool yellow cupboards enhanced the brightness of the cheery kitchen.
He put his hat on the hook by the door and ran his hand through his hair and over his face. Over a day’s worth of stubble prickled against his palm. He needed a shave.
“Where’s Dad?” Ben asked.
“He’ll be here soon, he’s just on the phone with Mr. Hargrave’s assistant again. What was her name again, Mom?”
“Melody Careman or some such thing. I have it written by the phone if you want to have a look.”
Benjamin felt the tension building in his shoulders and the familiar knot in his stomach growing. It was too normal here. Almost as though nothing had changed. He grabbed his hat back off the hook and ducked out the door while both of their backs were turned.
“Ben, you’re not leaving, are you?” Beth caught up with him, breathless.
“I just needed some air.” He took a great lungful of it and then turned back to his sister.
“What’s going on, Ben, why did you stay away so long?” Beth touched his arm and he fought the impulse to pull away.
“You know why,” he mumbled, avoiding her gaze.
“No Ben, I don’t. None of the rest of us ran away. We stayed. Do you know how hard it’s been on Mom and Dad not having you around either? Or me? It’s like we lost you too Ben. Do you have any idea how horrible it was to lose my brother just weeks after my sister died?”
He pulled away and turned his back on her.
“I don’t need this right now, Beth.” He could see the horses in the pasture just out from the barn. What he wouldn’t give to climb up on one and ride away for ever.
“When do you need it then, Ben?” she raged. “You haven’t ‘needed’ it since Rachel died and Jenna ran away.’
Her anger cut him. He wanted to run. He wanted to disappear. But he couldn’t do that. Cowboys don’t turn their back on their problems; they face them head on. The day his sister died he forgot how to be a cowboy.
He opened his mouth to tell Beth that he just needed more time, but before he could get the words out his mother’s voice cut through the uncomfortable silence.
“Dinner’s ready!”
Beth stepped close to him and said in a lowered voice, “Don’t think we’re done with this conversation, Ben, because we aren’t. Just make sure you act happy for Mom and Dad. They’ve been so excited about you coming home. Don’t spoil it for them.”
He turned and watched Beth go back inside and shook his head. In truth, he was happy. It was good to be home again and he knew he’d stayed away too long. He really loved this place. But now the ranch contained sadness too and he wasn’t used to that. He doubted he ever would be. Rachel died but he still had the rest of his family. He needed to remember that.
He followed his sister inside. He vowed to himself that he would make the effort to appreciate all of them now that he was home.
The smell of roast beef assaulted him as soon as he came back into the kitchen. His mom and Beth were placing the last of the meal on the table. His stomach rumbled in approval. He placed his hat back on the hook at the door and took his seat at the old oak table. Honeyed carrots glistened in their dish, mounds of mashed potatoes where piled high in their bowl, and sautéed cabbage, gravy and, best of all, Yorkshire puddings all appeared before him. He felt like a king waiting for a feast held in his honor. If the table hadn’t been so sturdy it would have collapsed when at last his mom placed the juicy roast beef down.
“What’s the occasion? Why the roast?” he asked his mom.
“You, silly,” she said, planting a kiss on his cheek. “It’s not every day you come for dinner.”
Watching his mom and sister he could’ve easily fooled himself that nothing has changed. But the laughter he grew up with wasn’t as loud and the creases around his mother’s eyes told him that the last two years had taken their toll on her too. He hated knowing some of those wrinkles were because of him.
“Ben, you made it!” His dad entered the room with a huge smile on his face.
Lance Copeland looked like every rancher from his generation should: tall, muscled but slightly paunchy around the middle from enjoying years of his wife’s good cooking.
As soon as Ben stood up he was enveloped into a hug. He swayed at the force of his dad slapping his back.
“It’s so good to see you, son. You’ve been away too long.”
Ben caught his dad’s eye and was surprised to see tears gathering along the lashes. He had to clear his throat before responding.
“It’s good to be home. I’ve miss it. I’ve missed you.”
Chapter 4 (#ulink_689b1831-b1f1-5721-9ab1-98b73f7cecab)
The morning was cool and crisp. Dew dampened the intensity of the prairie aroma and leant a fresh, clean scent to the air. Moisture clung to his horse Thunder’s forelegs as they cantered through the pasture, leaving a trail through the grass where the dew was knocked from the blades..
It’d been a year since Ben had been on a horse. He’d spent his whole life in a saddle until then. It was moments like these that made him wonder why he’d stayed away so long.
He rode through the herd of cows milling around the feed grounds with their new calves at foot. He kept his eyes open for any mis-mothered or sick calves and for any cows that were having trouble calving. The black Angus cows eyed him and Thunder wearily as they waited to be fed. A hired man, one Ben had yet to meet, finished rolling out the last bale of hay to the herd and headed off back towards the yards. He waved at Ben as he rolled past in the flatbed truck.
Ben stopped to watch the cows feeding for a while. They were terrific mothers and often kept their babies on the far side of them, away from Ben and his horse. It made it difficult to see the little guys, but Ben knew that any calves pestering their mothers for a drink were healthy. He was looking for ones that weren’t. He nudged Thunder lightly and they moved off to check the edges of the feed ground and the area beyond. Mother cows liked to hide their calves in tall grass and against sagebrush while they went to eat their breakfast.
He was close to the fence when he heard a cow’s distress call. Over the small rise and in a hollow backing onto a poplar stand was a cow in labor. Ben skirted around the back of the cow to take a better look at her. She was standing with her head down, her sides quivering. A calf’s hoof and tail poked out of her. The poor thing was coming out backwards. He knew even without trying that he’d be unable to chase her back to the corral and the cattle squeeze; she was too far gone.
Ben lightly jumped down from his saddle, careful to keep Thunder between himself and the distressed cow. Animals in pain were unpredictable and he had no desire to be flattened by an angry cow on his first day back on the ranch.
He dropped his reins on the ground, knowing Thunder wouldn’t walk away. Ben had trained him to stand when he was still a colt. He opened the buckle on his saddlebag and pulled out his calf pullers. He took a deep breath and keeping his eyes fixed on the cow, he slowly made his way towards her. Ben could hear Thunder behind him tearing grass up with his teeth; he wouldn’t go far.
The cow let out another bellow as Ben drew near, but she was too preoccupied to pay him much attention. She swished her tail when he grasped the wet leg of the calf but didn’t move besides to strain against the burden inside her and bellow again.
Ben gave an experimental tug on the leg he had a hold of as she pushed, but the calf didn’t budge. The contraction stopped and the cow let out a low moan. He worked quickly and slipped the loop of the calf puller over the exposed hoof before slipping his arm up inside the cow, feeling around for the other back leg. The cow’s next contraction nearly broke his arm but he managed to find the other leg. It was tucked up against its body. The cow bellowed again and swished her tail at Ben as he maneuvered the leg backwards and out into daylight. He put the other loop of the calf puller on the foot. He didn’t have to wait long for the next contraction.
The cow’s tail swatted him in the face, covering him with God knew what as he pulled and she pushed. He rubbed his face on his shoulder as best he could but he could still taste things he had no desire to taste. The smell of birth was all around him and was soaking into his pores. He was sure he’d be able to smell this experience for days.
The muscles in Ben’s arms strained, the cow gave one final bellow and the calf popped out. Ben quickly swiped the birth bag from its face, unhooked its feet from the pullers and stepped out of the cow’s way.
She sniffed the calf with her nose and nudged it.
He held his breath and waited.
The cow licked the calf’s face and let out a gentle moo.
“Come on, little guy,” Ben urged softly.
The calf raised its head. A surge of relief rushed through Ben’s body. Thank God. He walked back to Thunder and put the calf puller back into the saddlebag. He dug around until he found a rag all scrunched up in the bottom. He poured some water on it from the canteen he had tied to the saddle horn and washed off the birth as best he could. He’d have to have a shower as soon as he got home.
He stuffed the rag back in the saddle bag, climbed back onto Thunder and watched the cow and her calf for a few moments before turning to check the rest of the pasture. He rode to the top of a rise and surveyed the valley below him. He leaned forward, resting his right forearm on the saddle horn. Horse sweat, sagebrush and last year’s dried prairie grass assaulted his senses. They epitomized home to him. God, he loved this place. He’d been away far too long but since Rachel he couldn’t cope with the memories this piece of land held.
As kids he and his two sisters roamed these hills every spare moment they had. If he listened carefully he was sure he could still hear the echoes of their laughter.
His dad pulled his horse up alongside Thunder.
“You’ve been away too long, son,” Lance said.
Their saddles creaked as they shifted to look at each other.
“I know. I’m home now though. And this time, I ain’t leavin’.” Benjamin turned once again to the view before him and took a deep breath. “I’ve missed it.”
“Glad to hear it, ’bout time you came back where you belong. We need you around here. It’s time you started thinking of taking over from me and your mom.”
“You can’t be serious?” Ben asked in surprise. “I thought you just wanted me to come back and help you out for a year or two. What’s going on, Dad?”
The solemn look on his father’s face hit him like a fist in his gut. He’d seen that look two times before. Once when Rachel died and the other time wasn’t much better.
“What is it?” He pushed the dread back down his throat, swallowing it back down to his stomach.
His dad once again shifted in his saddle, as though Ben’s gaze made him uncomfortable.
“We want you home, is all. And we need the help. This place is getting run-down, as you can see. I can’t keep it up like I used to. We need your help and it’s time for your mom and me to enjoy what’s left of our lives. We all know how short life can be.”
Benjamin couldn’t understand why his father was avoiding his eye. It wasn’t like his dad to back down from anyone. Fear gripped his gut tighter than before.
“It isn’t Mom, is it? She’s not sick, is she?” Even he could hear the alarm creeping into his voice.
That brought his dad’s head up.
“Your mom? No son, she’s fine…it’s the ranch that’s struggling.” His dad kept his eyes locked on him while he spoke. “The last few years have taken their toll on us. Normally we could ride out this rough patch but with the extra bills we had while Rachel was sick, we’re finding it tough to make ends meet.’
Benjamin shook his head in wonder at his father.
“Why didn’t you say something sooner? I would have come back long before now.”
“We didn’t want to ask. Your mother and I know what a tough time you’ve had in the last few years, what with Rachel and then Jenna. Well, we wanted you to be able to come back on your own accord, when you were ready. You just took longer than we expected, is all.” His dad grinned at him. “We had to ask you back in fear you’d never come on your own.”
It was Ben’s turn to avoid his gaze. He looked out across the pasture instead. He didn’t want to think about how he’d run away.
“How bad is it?” he asked.
“Pretty bad, but I’ve got something up my sleeve. I’ll show you the books when we get home. Come on, we’ll check the rest of the herd and then I’ll show you.”
Benjamin watched his dad ride down the steep slope and head towards the dugout to check the last of the cows. Calving was just getting started and the cows needed to be checked frequently. Ben found it hard to turn and ride in the opposite direction to check the far end of the pasture; all he wanted to do was head for home and take a look at those books.
Damn, he knew he shouldn’t have stayed away so long.
Ben watched two more cows give birth. Thankfully his assistance wasn’t required with either of them. Then he and his dad arrived at the gate home within minutes of each other.
“Come on, son, your mom will have some lemon squares to have with our coffee.”
Benjamin couldn’t help but laugh at the wistful look on his dad’s face. He had a sweet tooth and enjoyed his wife’s baking.
Drawing to a halt at the barn door, Benjamin jumped down from the saddle and led Thunder into the cool dark building. With saddle and bridle removed he cut him loose out into the pasture so he could roll in the dirt. Ben watched from the fence, a smile sliding onto his face. It was good to be home.
***
Fresh from the shower, Ben sat down at the kitchen table and helped himself to his mom’s baking.
“These lemon squares are delicious, Mom. I’ve sure missed your baking,” Ben said around a mouthful of tarty sweetness.
“And I’ve missed you.” His mom kissed his check and dusted powdered sugar off his chin. “I’m glad you’re home.”
“Me too,” he replied.
Country music played from the radio on the shelf next to the sink. The aroma of fresh coffee filled the room. Benjamin was in heaven. He took another bite from the lemon square, barely suppressing a moan of pleasure.
His mother belied her cooking ability. For all of Ben’s twenty-eight years she had been lean, toned and gorgeous. He was proud of how his mom kept her appearance a priority and how she went for a five mile run every morning at sunrise to start her day before helping out on the ranch. Beth told him that since Rachel died she’d started doing yoga to find peace. Consequently her body was lean and toned as a result.
But she was starting to show her age. Ben had been surprised at the change he had seen in her when he’d arrived yesterday. Her hair was now peppered with grey and although cut in an attractive pixie cut, it showed off the wrinkles on her face. And there was no hiding the dark circles under her eyes. His dad was right; the stress was getting to her. Somehow in the last two years, his mom had shrunk into a shadow of her former self. Ben found it hard to look away from her. He kept expecting her to wash the wrinkles away as though they were Halloween make-up and return to her former glory.
“Come with me, Benjamin.” His father pushed himself up from the table and headed towards the back of the house and his office.
Ben grabbed two more squares and refilled his coffee cup from the pot on the counter before following his dad.
The office was the same as it always had been. The papers piled on the desk didn’t look like they’d been moved for over a decade and the dust on the shelves confirmed that his mom still wasn’t allowed in to clean. He remembered from his childhood that his dad once accused his mother of moving some important papers and as a result had never let her into his sanctuary since. At least not with a broom or duster.
“How do you find anything in this mess?” Ben asked, looking for a place to put down his coffee cup.
“Everything has its place, boy, don’t you worry. Here, grab a seat.” His dad pushed a chair towards him.
Ben carefully set his coffee cup onto a stack of unopened envelopes on the desk, moved the old newspapers off the chair and sat down.
“Dad.” Ben leaned forward and looked his dad in the eye as his old man sat down in the swivel office chair. “Tell me the truth, are we going to be able to save the ranch?” His breath stilled in his chest as he waited for his dad’s answer, a knot tight in his gut.
His dad shuffled some papers and a small cloud of dust rose above the desk.
“With your help, I think we have a shot. I would never have asked you to quit your job and come back here if I thought otherwise. But this place is for you and Beth. I won’t see it go under when there is still a possibility we can turn it around. As you know, your sister has moved into the Old House and she is just about ready to start up her bed and breakfast. She already has a booking for next month.” Lance took a slow sip of coffee. Ben had an idea that his father wasn’t telling him everything yet.
“And…?”
A grin spread across his dad’s face. “We are in a good position at the moment, but I need you help and co-operation.’
“You know you have it.” Ben wished he’d just get to the point.
“I’ve had a phone call last week, and well, we’ve been offered an opportunity we can’t afford to let it pass us by.” His dad took a long drink of his coffee and then stuffed a whole lemon square into his mouth.
Ben could barely contain his frustration.
“Dad! Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
Lance smiled through the icing sugar sticking to the stubble covering his face.
“A movie producer called. They want to shoot a film here, on the ranch.”
“Say what?” Surely he hadn’t heard right.
“Brian Hargrave called last week.”
“What? Wait a minute, the Brian Hargrave?”
“The very one! He found the ranch through your sister’s website. You know the one about her bed and breakfast? Well, he found it and he said it was exactly what they’re looking for and he also wants to hire our stock and horses. The amount they have offered us for the duration of the filming is phenomenal. It will be the end of all our troubles. We just have to stay afloat until their first payment.”
“When is that? And more importantly, how much?”
Ben had a tendency to fidget when he was agitated and nervous. Right now he was both. He stood to pace the room but the office was so full of papers there wasn’t much room to move. The ranch must be in a bad way for his dad to hire it out. Ben didn’t want to be beholden to anyone, let alone a big movie corporation.
His dad fished around his desk for a scrap piece of paper and for a pen that worked. After trying several he finally wrote a figure onto the paper and slid it across to Ben.
It was so much money Ben’s teeth hurt. He groped for his chair and sank back into it. That couldn’t possibly be right. But when he looked at his dad’s face the smile he saw there was proof enough that he hadn’t read it incorrectly. It was insane.
“Are you sure that’s right, Dad? It seems like an awful lot of money just to have a film crew here for a few weeks.”
“A few weeks? No son, they’ll be here for almost a year. There’ll be a lot of extra work going into having them here, no doubt about it, but with a figure like that and with how the ranch is financially, we can’t afford for them to go somewhere else. We need this. Here, look at these books. Without Mr. Hargrave and his crew we won’t last the year. It’s either this, Ben, or sell. And I don’t want to sell. This place has been in our family too long to see it go to that greedy son of a bitch down the road.”
Ben stilled and looked at his dad in confusion.
“What son of a bitch?” he asked slowly.
“Franklin.”
“Franklin? Jenna’s dad? What does he want with our ranch?”
“Oh boy, you don’t know, do you?” His dad sighed and ran his fingers through what was left of his hair. “Donald Franklin has been after this piece of dirt since he moved here. He thought he had his hands on it too when you and Jenna were engaged. Lucky for all of us she pulled out of that one.”
“Lucky?” Ben leapt from his seat. “You call it lucky she left me the week my sister died? What kind of luck is that?” Ben picked up the rock masquerading as a paperweight on his dad’s desk, weighed it in his hand and considered throwing it through the window, but by the look of the accounts they won’t be able to afford to replace it.
“No, I suppose you wouldn’t call that any kind of luck, son, but consider it a blessing she left you then and not after you got married and she’d taken half the ranch. That was all I meant.” Lance ran his hand over his head again and settled back into his chair. With his elbows resting on his desk he leaned towards his son and said, “I don’t believe she was ever after this place though. But I do wonder if Donald put her up to marrying you.”
“What, you think it was his idea we get married? It was me who asked her.”
This conversation was going nowhere. Jenna and him were old news. Last he’d heard she’d married some grain farmer from the next town. Her rejection still stung like an open wound. He didn’t allow himself to think about her, much less talk about his almost wedding. Looking back now he knew he was naive to think she would have been happy married to some poor cowboy like him. Beth told him her new husband was a rich farmer set to inherit his family’s farm. Funny, not once while they were together did he ever think of Jenna as a gold digger.
He sighed and pushed thoughts of Jenna into the far reaches of his mind.
“Dad, why is the ranch in such a mess? What happened? I thought this place more than paid for itself before. What’s going on?”
“As I said, having your sister in and out of hospital for so long piled up the bills. The cost of having to stay in a hotel to be near her was enough of a strain, let alone the food, extra hands on the ranch and travel back and forth. At least the treatment was covered. But we survived all that. I made some bad business decisions these last few years and I guess you could say I’ve never had a good head for business. Not like you. I need your brains, Ben, and your muscle. This place is falling apart and I’m afraid without your help we won’t make it. That’s why I asked you to come back home. Besides,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “this is where you belong. Not in some city working behind a desk.”
“I was working at a farm supply store, Dad, not at a desk,” Ben muttered.
“Did you like it?” his dad asked, leaning closer to Ben.
“No, not really,” Ben admitted.
“You would have been wasted there. You were born a rancher, you need to be a rancher. What do you say? Will you stay and help us get ready for this film crew?”
Ben sighed and sat back down in his chair.
“What do you need me to do?”
Chapter 5 (#ulink_adebaacf-ecaa-506c-a7d5-e1d58a6424fe)
Helga threw her keys in the bowl on the side table by her door. Sometimes she wasn’t even sure why she’d bought this apartment; she was never here. She pushed the button on the wall and the blinds wound open. The late afternoon sun streamed into the windows. She walked over to the glass and looked over the New York landscape. Ah yes, this was why she’d bought this place.
Below she could see the park and the tiny figures scurrying from place to place. She loved New York. The atmosphere was electric. The art was fantastic and the theatre, oh the theatre was the best in the world. When she wasn’t working she’d spend her time soaking in the performances on Broadway.
She could still remember the first show she saw not long after she moved here: Annie. It had been magnificent: the crowds, the lights, the music. It was the best New York moment of her life. She loved Broadway and hoped it was something she’d do later in her life.
She sighed, turning her back on the view and went to her fridge to grab an iced tea. A smile played across her lips as she thought of the faces her girlfriends would make if they saw her beverage choice. They preferred manhattans and vodka sliders but she always went for the non-alcoholic variety. She knew too many stars that had gone down the drug and alcohol track and had no wish to follow them.
She was taking the last sip from her glass when her phone rang. For a moment she was tempted to let it ring and then she saw who it was. If she didn’t answer now, she knew he’d just call back.
“Hi Dad. How’s Mom?” Why did she always sound so weary when she talked to him? She could even hear it in her own voice, it sounded as though she hadn’t slept for weeks.
“She’s fine, honey, but that’s not why I’m calling. It’s you I’m worried about.” His gruff voice echoed down the line. A knot grew in her stomach.
“Me? I’m fine, Dad.” Here we go again. She went back to her window and stared down at the park below.
“How can you be with what I’ve read in the papers?” Concern filled his voice, but it didn’t make her feel any better.
“Dad, I’m fine. Really I am. You know you can’t believe everything you read in those magazines.” Helga held back a sigh. Would this day never end? All she wanted was to curl up on the couch and watch a movie. It was either that or cry herself to sleep…again. Oh, who was she kidding? She was going to do that anyway. Tears pricking the back of her eyes she cleared her throat to hold them back.
“Oh…so Myles didn’t cheat on you?” His voice rose at the end of the question in hope. Her dad had really liked Myles.
“Well, yes, Dad he did, but…” The knife twisted in her gut again.
“Why don’t you give it up, Helga? And get a real job? One that doesn’t splash you all over the papers? One that pays well.”
“Dad, this one pays pretty well.” The glass of the window was cool against her forehead. If she just closed her eyes, maybe this would just be a dream when she opened them again.
“No, no, no, I mean one that pays really well. You could be a lawyer like your brother. Or a doctor. You’re smart enough for that.”
His confidence in her was heartening, but she’d had this discussion or one very similar to it too many times to feel anything but betrayed. Why couldn’t he understand that this is what she loved? Okay, so she didn’t love forfeiting her privacy, but she loved acting. And she was good at it, Goddamn it!
“Thanks, Dad. I appreciate your suggestions, but you do realize I make $19 million a film, right? Even my dear brother can’t beat that.”
“Yes but, honey, his name isn’t splashed all over the papers on a weekly basis. And he is happily married, I might add. Your mother and I want grandchildren someday, you know. If you can’t settle down, how are we going to get those?”
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“Dad,” she said, “you have two other children, you know that, right? You just finished pointing out to me that Adrian is happily married, why not call him and tell him to hurry up and have babies?”
“Oh honey, you know Adrian is busy. He’s got a very busy practice to look after; he can’t take the time off to have kids right now. You should know that.”
Helga rubbed her forehead.
“I’m not busy? Dad, I’ve just finished shooting back to back films. I work sixteen to eighteen hours a day. I don’t exactly have time to have kids either! And it’s not like Adrian has to actually have the kids. He only needs to show up for a few minutes, job done. It’s Susan who will have to carry the thing for nine months.”
“Don’t be so crude.” Her father’s voice snapped down the line and her hand clenched the receiver.
“Sorry,” she mumbled. How was it he had the ability to make her feel five years old again? “Dad, we both know Adrian won’t help with raising the child, even if he was at home all the time. It would be beneath him. Poor Susan, I don’t know what she ever saw in him.” Her voice sounded bitter and she now regretted her outburst. Her brother wasn’t all bad, she just struggled to find the good in him sometimes, especially when he started blaming her for their sister’s behavior.
“Helga! That’s enough. Adrian is your brother. I don’t want to hear you speak of him again like that.” Familiar anger radiated down the phone.
As if Adrian ever had anything good to say about her, the thought floated into her head faster than she could stop it. She was trying to work on the principles of the Law of Attraction. So far, not so good. Actually this week had been pretty shit.
“That’s not why I called, honey.” She could hear her dad struggling to bring his voice back under control. “We’re worried about you. This acting phase you’re going through is just not good for you. You’ll have to get a real job one day, pumpkin. Why not go back to vet school? You seemed to like that.”
“Dad, I’m allergic to long-haired animals. I can’t be a vet if I break out in hives and struggle to breathe every time a dog or a cat comes through the door.”
“But, honey…”
“Look, Dad, I’ve got to go.”
Helga pressed the end button before he could say anything else. She hated talking to her family. They just didn’t understand her. They spoke to her as though what she wanted didn’t matter. Sometimes she wondered if they even heard her at all. They have never supported her career choice. Not once. They’d been okay with her modelling to help pay her way through vet college but as soon as she starting picking up acting gigs, the criticizing started. Her dad was the worst. He made her feel worthless.
She grabbed another iced tea from the fridge but then put it back. She had work to do and she couldn’t afford to ingest the sugar with a new job on the horizon. She put on a pot of coffee instead. The aroma filling her apartment eased the tension her day had deposited on her shoulders.
After taking her low-fat milky coffee into the living room she picked up the script Rosie had sent to her apartment. She curled up on her leather couch and savored the first sip. Endorphins rushed through her veins as the caffeine hit her tongue. She flipped the cover and started reading.
When the apartment’s porter had given it to her on her way in, her first instinct was to toss it in the garbage can beside his desk. She’d smiled at him instead and got into the elevator with it still in her hand.
She needed to decide which film to do.
She’d reluctantly accepted that Rosie was right: this one was something she could do blindfolded and after flipping through it on the way up the elevator, she knew it was written exactly for her. She’d felt familiar tingling in her spine the more she read. She’d been disappointed when the elevator had reached her floor and she had to put it away. The storyline was good and she knew right then and there that it wouldn’t be the flop the last two films had been. Plus, she knew it would be fun to make. To give Rosie credit, the part would show her in a slightly different light. It was a romantic comedy but there was some drama as well. This part would ease her into a more serious role.
But there was still the package from Brian sitting on her coffee table. It called her name. And the further she read into the script from Rosie, the harder Brian’s was to ignore.
Finally, halfway through Rosie’s script she tossed it aside and reached for the brown paper package from Brian. She ripped it open and started to read.
Four hours later Helga placed the script gently on the coffee table and picked up her phone. She counted the beats of her heart while it rang on the other end.
“Brian? It’s Helga. I’m in.”
***
Benjamin wiped the sweat from his face and arched his back. The fence he’d been working on for the last week was nearly finished. New wire gleamed in the sun. The whole top wire had needed to be replaced and the other two wires had so many new additions they now looked more new than old as well. He’d finally managed to get around most of the field and only had one more spot to fix.
The preparations for the film crew were almost done as well. They’d repainted the barn, planted more flowers outside the front of the house and moved stock to the back pastures so the grass would be green and lush where they would be filming. However, at the breakfast table this morning his mom and Beth had complained about how Mr. Hargrave’s assistant had sent in another request. He wasn’t exactly sure what it was but they’d been muttering about more flowers and trees. It’d been a dry spring and older tress probably wouldn’t take being moved in this weather. He was glad his mom was looking after organizing the aesthetic side of things. He just needed to make sure the fences were up and the animals were healthy, nothing more than he would be doing anyway.
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