Her Leading Man (14 page)

She and her grandmother had taken breakfast in
their room, so
Christina hadn’t
yet seen anyone else
connected with Peerless this morning. As soon as
she
walked
outside, that state of affairs changed.
George Peters and his crew were
still nailing
t
he
set together. Christina saw them off in
the distance,
kicking up a whirlwind of
dust
and
a cacophony of
noise as they hammered and sawed and threw things
about.

She saw Benjamin Egan, the head Peerless cameraman,
and Karen Crenshaw’s
husband—Christina
thought it had been very modern and interesting of
Karen not to assume
her husband’s last name
—
testing
light levels near a fence some ways
off.
Another
cameraman
was
inspecting his equipment
.

Exterior scenery shots featuring George’s
spectacular
set would
b
e taken
tomorrow. They’d be used as
filler
s
in between scenes and when Martin
needed
them
for story purposes. Christina expected they’d be
used a good deal
during scenes
depicting the exodus
of the Jews from Egypt, which showed what
Moses’s
flock
would be leaving behind as they forged onward
to a new life.

A number of Indio’s citizens had gathered around
to watch the action
today, as they had yesterday. This
was probably the most excitement any of
them had
ever
seen in the quiet little burg.

And there was Martin, in the thick of things,
looking
handsome, suave, and
competent in a natty sports
suit and soft cap. He certainly
didn’t look anything
like the frenzied madman who had interrupted scene
after scene
yesterday. Today he
was smiling and talking
animatedly with another man, whom
Christina
had
not seen before. Maybe he was the camel-riding
instructor.

Camel-riding instructor
.
Good heavens, how
funny
the
pictures could be without half trying.

She told herself not to be nasty. The pictures paid
well, and she needed
money, thanks to men being
afraid to allow women into the heady
atmospheres
of academia and medicine.

Christina knew darned good and well fear was the
reason for their
reluctance. Why else deny women
the opportunity to earn scholarships? She
didn’t buy
for a minute the lame excuse that women were
weaker and stupider
than men—mainly because she
knew it wasn’t true. Ever since she started going
to
grammar
school, she could demolish any of the boys
in her class intellectually—and
generally
physically
too.

So there.

She caught herself thinking childish thoughts and
told herself to cut
it out. Reality was reality, and there
was no sense dwelling on how unfair
and asinine it
was. She really wished she could stop her mind from
dwelling on those
blasted regents,
though
.

“
Do you want to rest here on the porch, Gran,
or
do
you want to walk over to see what’s going on?”

“
I’ll stay here. Holler if you need me.” Gran
sat
in
a porch chair, her eyes snapping fire and her chin
firm. Her only
concession to the intense heat was a
lightweight summer dress and a fan, which
she unfolded
and began using to good purpose.

Christina grinned at her. “Will you dash to my
rescue
if
Orozco tries to make away with me?”

“
Unless that Tafft fellow dashes first, you’re
damned
right I will.” She sounded as if she meant it.

And she probably did. Christina wouldn’t put it
past Gran to try to
dash, even if she never got up
a full head of steam, if she sensed Christina was
in
trouble.
She appreciated the old devil-woman, even
if she was difficult to get along
with most of
the
time.

“
Thanks, Gran,” she said simply, and she
walked
a little faster toward the set.

She slowed down when she realized she was hurrying
because she could
hardly wait to see and talk
to Martin Tafft. Good heavens, she felt toward
Martin
as if
she were starving, and he was food. What a
strange sensation. She’d never
experienced it before.
She didn’t trust it. In fact, her own state of
mind so
alarmed her that she was frowning heavily when she
finally reached his
side
.

“
Christina!”

Was it her imagination, or did he speak her name
with a certain
quality of joy, as if he
w
ere as
delighted
to
see her as she was to see him? When he
took note of her sour
expression, the
glint in his eyes
that Christina had suspected was joy faded, and he
cleared his
throat.

Great. Now she’d put him off. And she hadn’t yet
spoken a word.
Trying to recover without letting him
know how much she’d yearned to see him,
she
adopted a
bright smile
.
“Hi, Martin. Nice day, isn’t
it?”

Stupid, stupid, stupid. It was eight o’clock in the
morning, and the
thermometer must be hovering right
around ninety-eight degrees already. The
weather out
here stank. “That is, I’ll bet it won’t rain or
anything
It’ll be super for filming.”

Good God, she was going soft in the head. She’d
never uttered two
such inanities in so short a space
of time in her life.

The man standing next to Martin laughed. “Not a
chance of rain, I’ll
bet”

She gave him a cold stare, and his smile
vanished
.
Then she felt guilty. It wasn’t his fault
she was behaving
like an imbecile. So she altered her expression
again, smiled at the
man, and his eyebrows arched,
as if he feared he was in the presence of a
lunatic.
With
a sigh, Christina thought he might well be
.

Giving up on him, she turned again to Martin, who
seemed more
receptive to her smile. She was surprised
when he took her hand. “I’m really
sorry for
making such a fuss yesterday, Christina. I don’t
know
what
possessed me.” He frowned and added,
“
I
just
couldn’t
seem to get through to Orozco to do the
scene the way I pictured
it.”

The way Christina pictured it, Martin would be the
one rescuing her
from the evil villain. Both of the
evil villains, actually. “Forget it,
Martin. I’m sure we
all have rough days.” She glanced up into the stark
blue sky “This
weather is enough to send
anyone
over the edge.”

“
Thanks, Christina. I appreciate your
understan
ding.”

His beautiful brown eyes looked almost as warm
as the temperature.
Christina could easily have allowed
herself to make something out of the
expression
on
his face, but she didn’t. Couldn’t. She had
goals in life.

Forsaking the weather and her own unruly emotions,
she said, “I don’t
see any camels. I thought
we were going to have a riding lesson this
morning.”

Martin seemed to relax, probably, Christina thought
caustically, because
she was no longer acting insane.
“We are.” He also seemed to have regained
his usual
pleasant demeanor. There was nothing of yesterday’s
madman about him now
“This gentleman is Howard
Schuman, and he’s going to teach you the fine
art
of camel
riding. M
r.
Schuman, this is our leading
lady, Christina
Mayhew
.
”

Oh, this was wonderful. She’d alienated her camel
riding instructor by
frowning at him for no reason.
Trying to make up for her earlier
clumsiness
,
Christina turned toward Schuman and held
out her
hand.
“How do you do, Mr. Schuman? Thanks for
your help. Where did you learn how to
ride a
camel?”

There. That had been a nice comment delivered
with aplomb. He
couldn’t take exception to it.

He didn’t. He seemed to relax, in fact, and shook
her hand with
evident pleasure. “Pleased to meet you,
Miss Mayhew. Believe it or not, I
used to be in the
French Foreign Legion. When I got out, I went to
work for Barnum and
Bailey’s.”

“
Good heavens.” Christina was
genuinely
impressed
.”I thought all the men who joined the
French Foreign Legion were
criminals on the lam.”

There she went again. Alienating her teacher. She
remembered of old
how touchy teachers could get
when their students were too curious.

Fortunately for her, Mr. Schuman didn’t take
exception
to
her artless comment.
In
fact, he laughed.
“Not all of us,
although I suspect there were a few
blokes who
joined
to escape from various aspects of
their lives.”

He had a nice accent. English or something. She
offered up one of
her actressy smiles, and he flushed
becomingly. Men. They were really quite
simple—and terribly predictable.

Mr. Schuman went on, “Camels are tricky customers,
but I think we can
teach you some of the basics
without much trouble.”

“
I’ve heard they spit at people if they’re
annoyed,”
Christina said in order to make conversation.

Both men chuckle
d, and
s
he began to
feel better
about
herself, the day, the picture, and life in general.
“That
they
do,” said Schuman “They aren’t very nice animals,
as a
rule.”

“
And here they are!” Martin exclaimed, as if
he
were more delighted to see a
camel
than he would
have been to have a pile of gold coins
heaved
at him.

Christina turned to look. There they were, all
right.
Six
camels headed their way, lined up on ropes as
if they were walking in a
caravan across the Sahara.
They had an uncomfortable-looking gait. “By
gum,
she
said. “There they are.”

Schuman heaved a sigh. “Camels,” he
murmured
dreamily.

Christina looked at him with interest. “You sound
as if you like them,
Mr.
Schuman
.”

“
I do.
They’re difficult, but I love the silly creatures.”

“
I know exactly what you mean,” she said,
thinking
about her
grandmother.

So, apparently, did Martin think of Gran. His face
darkened, and he
glanced around apprehensively. “Er,
where’s Mrs. Mayhew this
morning?”

So. Even the wonderful Martin Tafft was afraid of
Gran. Although she
told herself she shouldn’t be disappointed,
that being afraid of Gran was only a
sensible
reaction to the irascible old coot and her
dangerous cane, and
that Martin had demonstrated a
great facility for handling Gran so far, Christina
felt
a little
deflated. “She’s on the porch.” She pointed.

“
Ah,” breathed Martin. “I see. I also see she
has
her cane with her” He turned and grinned at
Schuman
.
“Better watch your step with Miss
Mayhew
here.
She’s got a dangerous grandmother.”