Page 19 of Christmas with the Cowgirl
The coffee he’d just taken a gulp of threatened to choke him.But in a way that was a good thing, because the extra seconds it took for him to swallow gave him time to rein in his own reaction.It wasn’t that he hadn’t been told that over the years, that he had the looks to be on the other side of the camera—he had.He’d just never had the desire.
“I never wanted to be,” he finally got out.“That isn’t what matters to me.”
“What does?”she asked, with that head tilt again that said she was genuinely interested in the answer.
“Seeing stories I love come to life on screen, the way I’d pictured them.”
“Doesn’t the director mostly control how a show looks?”
“Yes.”He shrugged before saying, “That’s why I make sure to only work with directors I trust.Who see the same thing I do in a project.”
She seemed to ponder this for a moment.“So that’s why you’ve had such big successes.You stick to your vision.”
“I try.”
“As someone who’s enjoyedEastsideandFar Gone, I’d say you succeeded.”
He couldn’t help saying, “But notStonewall?”
“I have the same complaint most Texans do.”
He grimaced.“Yeah.I’m getting that a lot.And I get it, too.We faked it, and that’s…”
“Insulting?”she suggested.
He sighed.“Yeah.”
He wanted to tell her the real, whole truth of it, but he was still rattled by the discovery that the place he’d truly wanted to film at, the place in his painting, was right here on her ranch.Because that wish had suddenly gotten even more complicated.
He flicked a glance at Jeremy, who had finished his chocolate—and carefully carried his mug to the kitchen sink—and gone over to look at the painting again.
“Here’s where it should be,” Jeremy announced, and Miles realized he’d once again underestimated the boy’s capability of overhearing things when he thought he was otherwise occupied.
And on the entire drive back to the Baylor ranch he had to fight off all the images Jeremy’s words had started to churn in his brain.
Chapter Ten
“It’s true?”
Miles looked at the petite blonde woman who, according to Nic, Tris, and every other native of Last Stand, was the powerhouse of the entire town.He remembered her from the day she had presented Jackson with the cowboy hat he now wore with pride.And he remembered what he’d heard Nic telling Jackson when this woman had called him up on stage at the dedication forThorpe’s Therapy Horses, and he supposed it applied just as much here at Jeremy’s birthday party.
You know you don’t dare ignore Maggie Rafferty.
It made him extra cautious when he answered.As did knowing they were talking about this woman’s late husband.“It…appears to be.I can’t confirm it until I get home and check the paperwork, but the style is the same, and…the initials in the lower right corner.”
“And Jackson tells me it was that painting that inspired you to createStonewall?”
He let out a small laugh.“It gave me the idea, yes.But I was just one cog in a big machine.A lot of people came together to get it done.”
She lifted a brow into the bangs of her short, pixie-style haircut.“Modesty.Nice.Unexpected for someone in your position, but nice.”
“I try to be more like Jackson than like the rest of Hollywood,” he said solemnly.
The woman laughed in obvious delight.“All right, I think I’m going to have to accept Jackson’s assessment of you as one of the good guys.”Her expression became serious, with a touch of sadness he didn’t understand until she said, “As I would have anyway, given you had the taste and sensitivity to see the glory both in Texas, and in my husband’s work.”
Again he chose his words with care.“I think it was more that he made it impossible to miss,” he said quietly.
He got his first real clue to how deeply this woman had loved that man she spoke of when her eyes glistened at his words.He knew it had been many years since Kyle Rafferty had been killed overseas, but his wife still loved him, and Miles guessed she always would.Which told him even more about the artist, the man who could hold the heart of a woman like this for so many years.
