Page 5

He supposed, for Martha, this was a special event.

Logan had worn what he always wore. Jeans and a T-shirt. And his boots. It was just as hot and dusty out here as it was on the rest of the ranch. Besides, he saw no reason to get dressed up for these movie people. They were just regular people like him, right?

“You two look comfortable. You ready for the day?”

Martha clutched his arm as Des appeared from behind them.

She sure looked different from yesterday. Instead of her scrubbed, clean look, she was dressed in tight cargo pants and a black tank top. They had her hair mussed, her face streaked with dirt, and what looked like a bloody gash on her arm. She wore a strapped thigh holster and some kind of mean-looking futuristic weapon tucked onto her hip, another longer, rifle-type one slung across her back. And some very kickass boots with laces and buckles that even Logan had to admit looked sexy as hell on her.

Martha slid out of her chair and held out her hand. “Good morning, Miss Jenkins. I’m Martha Fleming. Thank you so much for letting us come to your set today.”

“Hi, Martha. I’m so pleased to meet you, and I’m glad you could make it today.” Des gave Logan a wide smile. “Nice to see you again, Logan.”

Logan nodded. “Des.”

“Are you ready for an action scene today?” Des asked them.

“They sure have you made up, don’t they?” Martha asked, looking at Des. “How long does that take?”

“Not too bad for today. About an hour and a half in hair and makeup. I’m going to get a little more roughed up, but Colt will take the worst of it, so unfortunately for him, he’ll have to sit longer in the chair than I will after this scene.”

“How exciting.” Martha was practically vibrating.

“They’re ready for you, Des,” Jessica said.

Des nodded. “I’ll be right there.” She turned back to Logan and Martha. “I hope you enjoy it. The scene is fairly short, so I’ll be back to check on both of you after.”

She walked away and was soon joined by a tall, sandy-haired man dressed similarly to Des.

Martha gripped his arm again. “Oh, my Lord. That’s Colt Stevens. Isn’t he handsome?”

The guy was muscular, for sure, showing it all off in his half-ripped sleeveless top. Colt and Des smiled at each other as they got into position. The director—or Logan guessed it was the director—started calling out something. Des pulled her weapon and crouched down behind one of the buildings, Colt right next to her in a similar position. Several other actors dressed in black combat gear and wearing some type of creature makeup were on the other side of the buildings. They were armed, too. It looked like it was Des and Colt against an army of at least a dozen.

When the director called “Action,” Des and Colt started talking. It appeared as if they were trying to strategize an escape, but the guys in black made the first move, firing their weapons. Des and Colt fired back. No sounds came from the guns. Logan assumed those sounds would be dubbed in later. The firefight lasted only about a minute, but Logan had to admit he’d leaned forward, getting into the action, especially when Des and Colt bolted from their position of security, the aliens advancing on them. When her gun was out of imaginary ammo, she holstered it and slung the rifle over her shoulder and began to fire.

Logan smiled at the way she held the rifle. Des needed some lessons on rifle fire. If it were an actual shoot-out, she wouldn’t hit the broad side of a barn with that thing. Then again, this was all make-believe, so it didn’t matter.

She was hit, presumably in the leg, because she dropped her weapon and went down, clutching her thigh. A bright burst of red came from her thigh and the aliens advanced on her.

Des was captured, dragged away through the dirt by one of the taller men. Colt started to come for her, but he was jolted back as if he had been hit by gun or laser fire, though, of course, there was no gunfire sound.

Des screamed out, arms flailing, yelling for Colt to run, not to come for her. Colt hesitated, special effects smoke billowing all around them.

Nice. It was over in a minute or two, the director yelled “Cut” and everyone got up.

“That was a good take, everyone,” the director said. “We’ll regroup for scene seven in thirty minutes.”

Des brushed herself off and went over to Colt. Heads bent in conversation, gesturing and pointing over the scene they’d just shot, Logan studied the two of them as they talked. The connection between them was obvious. The smiles they shared and the way Colt touched her made it seem as if they were intimate. He wondered if they were dating.

“Wasn’t that exciting?” Martha asked.

“It was interesting.”

“Interesting?” Martha nudged him. “I barely breathed the entire time.”

“Okay, it was a pretty good scene.”

“Look, she’s bringing Colt over.” Martha straightened her blouse, and Logan rolled his eyes.

“You gonna leave Ben for this guy?”

Martha shot him a look. “Of course not. Colt’s young enough to be my son. He’s younger than you, for heaven’s sake.”

“Then I don’t think you need to primp.”

She slapped his arm. “You’re a mean man, Logan McCormack.”

“How did you like the scene?” Des asked.

“Oh, my,” Martha said. “It was amazing.”

Des waited.

“It was good,” Logan said.

“Logan, Martha, this is Colt Stevens.”

Colt gave them a genuine smile and shook their hands. “Pleasure to meet both of you. And, Logan, thanks for the use of this ranch. I’m hoping to get out and explore, that is, if you don’t mind.”

Logan was predisposed not to like Colt, but he was friendly and not arrogant. “Do you ride?”

“Some. I spent time on a ranch in my errant youth, but I’m a little rusty.”

“Oh, you have to come over to the ranch. In fact, you and Des should come for Sunday dinner.” Martha frowned. “What do you eat around here, anyway?”

Des wrinkled her nose. “Either takeout from town or whatever catering gives us.”

Martha crossed her arms. “Which is?”

“Nothing edible, that’s for sure,” Colt said with a laugh.

“Then you definitely have to come for Sunday dinner. I make home-cooked meals every night, and it’s not that far. It sure beats takeout and whatever your catering truck is going to fix for you.”