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“Don’t apologize for feeling strongly,” Nic said as she felt an inward twinge. Because there had been a time when her mother had told her almost the same thing about her father.He’s kept me from going crazy, given me the strength to keep fighting. I don’t know what I would have done without him.
She’d never considered that the man she’d thought of as a guy pretending to be someone he’s not was also a human being with real, genuine feelings powerful enough to make him walk away from a career-making part. Especially a guy who’d been a virtual unknown before he’d stepped into the skin of a character named Austin Holt.
“Jeremy is having such fun. It’s absolutely wonderful to see after all this time,” Tris said.
“I’m glad.”
“It’s the pony, I think. Jackson has tried to get him to ride with him when he goes on trail rides, but I think Jeremy was intimidated by a full-sized horse.”
That surprised her. “Your brother actually rides voluntarily? When not on camera?”
Tris gave her a sideways look. Nic sensed her hesitation, realized the probable cause; she didn’t want to anger the person letting Jeremy do what was making him so happy. “Don’t worry about slapping me down. I probably have it coming. I admit to being a bit... prejudiced against Hollywood.”
“Well, that’s the first step to overcoming it,” Tris said, smiling now.
Nic smiled wryly. “Seems like one I need to take, at least in this case.”
Tris’s smile widened. “In answer to your question, yes, Jackson rides a lot. He loves it, and the horses, and has ever since his friend Tucker got him started when he got him his first job on a film crew, helping wrangle the animals for a movie. That was where Miles Flint first spotted him, helping that horse.”
Helping?
...go look at how Jackson Thorpe was, as they say, discovered.
Her mother’s words came back to her. Obviously, the story must be well-known, since the man’s sister seemed to beassuming she’d know it. But she didn’t. She’d always had the idea he’d just been swept up out of nowhere and plopped into the role that had morphed into being the lynchpin of one of the biggest television hits ever.
She felt more than a little embarrassed now at her assumption he’d never done a lick of actual hard work to get where he was. She’d remembered her mother telling her about how some famous golden age actress had been “discovered” sitting at a lunch counter, and figured some agent or other had taken one look at Thorpe’s admittedly gorgeous face and body and said, “There’s my guy!”
She’d made a lot of assumptions about the man, and they were falling apart one by one. Which made her start wondering why she had, so far, been so wrong. True, she’d only had his Hollywood image—and her own feelings about such things—to base it on, but still, it wasn’t like her to... well, to judge like this.
Maybe she needed to quit thinking about Jackson Thorpe and do a little work on Nicole Baylor.
*
Jackson had continuedhis walking tour after his encounter with the chief, an encounter that had made him think of stopping to speak to the man’s brother. The saloonkeeper. A juxtaposition that still made him smile.
He’d gone into the saloon, and the man—Slater, he said to call him—had asked if he wanted a drink, on the house.
“As Tris’s brother,” he said pointedly. “Not as the big star.”
He grimaced. “Neither guy ever drinks before dark, and then not much. He crashed and burned once, at the worst possible time, and is making sure it never happens again.”
The other Highwater brother studied him for a moment, then nodded. “Hang on a sec,” he’d said, and disappeared into the back. He came out with something that looked almost slushy, an odd shade of yellow orange in a tall, frosty glass with a straw.
“It’s better when the peaches are in season and it’s fresh, but I keep some frozen on hand most of the time.”
Peaches? Jackson took a sip, and the flavor practically burst over his tongue. “Wow. That’s amazing.”
Slater grinned at him. “Local peaches make all the difference.”
“I never thought of Texas as peach-growing country.”
“Nobody did, until somebody did.”
That made him laugh. And he realized it wasn’t just Jeremy who had relaxed here; he’d laughed more himself since they’d arrived than he had in the last three years.
They’d begun talking about him staying a while and needing a car. Slater suggested a dealer over in Fredericksburg that also leased vehicles. That, Jackson greatly appreciated, but when the man pulled out a phone to call someone who could give him a ride there, he was a little stunned.
“Isn’t there a taxi or ride share or something?” he asked.
