Even though he was theexpendableone, he didn’t want to spend his days babysitting the film crew.
“Is it a good idea to have this much chaos on the ranch while Dad’s laid up? Wouldn’t he heal faster with a cozy family Christmas?” he played his ultimate card.
Mom pressed her lips into a thin line. “He’s quarantined in our room and sleeps so much; I’m not sure he even knows it’s December.” Her shoulders hunched, and she wrapped herself in a blanket of worry once again.
Great. He’d stressed her out.
“I’ll do it.” He scrubbed his cheek, noting the two-day scruff. He would have shaved if he’d known he was going to meet people today. “I’m not even sure what I’m agreeing to.”
“Me neither,” Mom smiled up at him. “But you’ll figure it out.”
Ryder grunted and grabbed at the pan of cinnamon rolls with his baby hands. Caleb winked at Faith as he gave their son another piece to paint himself with. Faith shook her head, her eyes full of love for her men. “You’re both going in the bath as soon as we get home.” She pointed to Caleb’s shirt, which was as messy as Ryder’s cheeks.
Caleb leaned over and kissed her head. “Anything for you, babe.”
Jack moved away from them. Part of the twin mind-meld, as his family had always called it, was that he could feel what his brother was feeling. The love that surged between Caleb and Faith was too much to take, and Jack needed to get away.
Was it so wrong that he wanted to experience that for himself? Maybe he was broken.
There was another worry that had crept in during the meeting. Chloe had said she didn’t want to be a rancher’s girlfriend. What if he couldn’t find someone who wanted to live this life? What if he had to give up the ranch to find love? He’d never considered that the ranch would be a black mark against him. He loved this place. Loved his family. Loved the reindeer. But most of all, he believed in what they did–in the contribution they made to Christmas.
It was bigger than him. And yet, it was a part of his identity. Did that mean he was destined to be alone and, worse yet, lonely?
CHAPTERTHREE
Natalie paced her small cubicle. She’d hung up with Mrs. Nicholas over an hour ago with the promise that she would think about it before she pulled the plug on the movie.
How long did it take to decide her fate?
Not that Nat had told the kind woman who’d explained about her husband’s illness that her entire career hinged on whether or not she would allow them on the ranch. No, she’d been much more hysterical than that.
Okay, nothysterical. At least not outwardly berserk. Inwardly, she’d been as crazy as a Black Friday bargain shopper with something to prove.
Jennifer came through the cubical farm on her way to the break room, her Boss Lady coffee mug dangling from her manicured fingertips.
Nat froze in place, not wanting to draw attention to herself. A movement drew attention, right? If she held very still, Jennifer wouldn’t look at her, wouldn’t see the worry lines on her face, nor smell the fear that wafted off her skin like perfume. Her heart pounded against her ribs with such force she would indeed have bruises.
Jennifer stopped and lifted her chin like a cheetah in the wild who’d sniffed an old, weak antelope lagging behind the herd. Nat ducked her head, clicked open her email, and pretended to be busy even though her eyes wouldn’t focus on the screen, and she couldn’t read a word in front of her.
Go for coffee, she silently screamed at Jennifer.There’s hazelnut!
She knew because she’d made the coffee. She’d sworn she would do one of the many menial office duties with full purpose. She’d applied herself to knowing the preferences in the office. First thing in the morning was a pot of classic roast with an assortment of creams. Around ten, she made French vanilla to brighten the mood. Noon was a dark roast, and at three came the hazelnut to stave off afternoon snacking.
Not one complaint. Ever.
After an eternity, where breathing was impossible, the click-click of Jennifer’s shoes on the fake tile receded to the break room.
Natasha gasped for air. She stared at her phone, willing it to ring, while she clasped her hands together to keep from giving in to the temptation to call and beg Mrs. Nicholas to give them the green light.
Canceling a film at this stage meant work–and lots of it. Vendors needed notice, their deposits paid, and the money lost. Extras were next on the list–they’d receive a generic email explaining they were no longer needed for this project, with no explanation as to why, which meant answering twenty-plus calls and explaining the situation.
Then there were the makeup artists and wardrobe… the list continued to grow.
The most significant risk in canceling the movie was putting miss Raelynn Wallace, the child star cast as the lead, would be out of a job. Her agent, also her father, was notorious for holding a grudge. If they canceled her contract, he’d never let her work with Forever Love Productions again.
Forever Love Productions had groomed two child actors, writing scripts to accommodate their ages each year. Both had graduated and moved on to playing the love interests–total viewer favorites. People would tune in to watch them clip their toenails if they could. Forever Love needed that again, and viewers wanted a new face to adore for the holidays. Raelynn was that face with her Shirley Temple dimples and innocent brown eyes. But if her father pulled her–forever–they’d be back to auditions, a grueling process at best.
Her phone rang, and she jumped in her seat. Her heartbeat took off like Santa’s sleigh on Christmas Eve. She barely kept her hold on the phone as she hit the answer button. “Hello?” she rolled her eyes at herself as she pulled the phone away and checked the caller ID. If this wasn’t Ann Nicholas, she was overreacting.
