Brody

 

Shanna was upset about the whole mustang situation, so everything was put on hold. She claimed there needed to be litigation about safety zoning and a whole bunch of other legal and technical issues. All I knew was that we got a night free from shooting. Most of the crew went into town to drink at the bars, and while I’d normally be on board, I found myself heading down a walking path instead. I was alone. I could hear the soft sounds of a river just ahead, and I thought I really had lost my mind. I was pretty sure because while my boss was livid about the safety risks of a herd of mustangs in the area, I was hoping to run across them tonight.

Not them.

Her.

So, when the path came to the river, when I could hear it around the corner, I paused for a moment.

Thousands of women wanted me in their bed, and I stood there like a nervous seventh grader for fuck’s sake.

I was embarrassed for myself, and rolling my eyes, I stepped around.

I didn’t expect her to be there. Why would she? Kellerman told me the horses ran over more than a hundred acres, but dear God, there she was.

Standing on the other side of the bank, she was running a hand through her hair.

I was entranced.

Jesus.

She was like a goddess.

It was like out of a cheesy movie scene. The moonlight sparkled on her golden hair. There were some darker strands that I saw now too. A slight mist was in the air, settled over the river and pooling around her feet. The only thing that was different was her clothing. There was no long flowing dress. She wore what any other woman would’ve worn, just a sweatshirt and jeans that were snug on her. She’d rolled them up so they ended above her knees, and when she moved back, I saw she wore regular sneakers. They were the kind used for hiking, which made sense.

Christ.

I almost laughed at myself. I’d been so convinced she was a ghost.

“You’re a real person.”

I hadn’t realized I spoke until her head jerked up. Her eyes found me, and she began to turn away.

“Don’t!” I started for her, my hand in the air, but I forced myself to stop. I’d spook her for sure then. When she didn’t move any farther, I softened my voice and added, “Please don’t.”

This was surreal.

When I saw she still wasn’t leaving, I took a step closer, lowering my hand. “I’m Brody. I’m working here on a movie.”

Her eyes widened, but she lifted her head to fully look at me. The flight instinct was waning toward curiosity. I could see how her lips parted, and she moved a strand of hair out of her way to see me better. Her eyes narrowed, and her head tilted up questioningly. “You’re famous.”

“I . . . uh . . . yeah.”

Again. Thousands of women swooned over me. This girl had me stuttering.

After clearing my throat, I said, “Can I ask, just so I know for myself, but . . . are you a fucking ghost?” Shit. What if she was one of those girls who was proper-like? I raked my hand through my hair. “I mean, are you—” Yeah. Anyway I sliced it—even taking out the curse word—I still sounded nuts.

She laughed.

She was laughing. Once she started, she couldn’t stop. The sound came out of her in waves and then she was shaking her head.

I found myself smiling, but I didn’t know why.

“Oh man.” She wiped at her eyes, her laughter beginning to fade. “I haven’t laughed like that for a while.”

“Yeah?” I was an idiot for feeling proud of that. Yep, I even had a boner like I used to walk around with in junior high. What was next? Fucking wet dreams again? I made a mental note to lay off the bourbon at night.

I gentled my smile, ducking my head a little. “I’m glad.”

I was flirting with her. I wasn’t ashamed. I was going to reel her in because, dammit, I needed her in a way I didn’t fully comprehend.

She laughed again. “Thank you. That was nice.”

“Can I ask what your name is?”

She swallowed, her eyes widening again.

I didn’t think she was going to answer.

Then, so softly I almost didn’t hear it, she whispered, “Morgan.”

“Morgan.” I nodded to myself. “And to be clear, just so I don’t think I’m going crazy, you’re not a ghost. Right?”

“No.” A few more chuckles. Her smile came back. “I’m not a ghost. I just spend a lot of time with horses. A lot.”

I grunted. “I figured.”

She nodded, falling silent.

I was searching for my next question, but I didn’t want to overwhelm her. I didn’t want to scare her away.

Then she surprised me when she spoke next. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“What?” My own eyes widened. Her words clicked in again. “A girlfriend? No.” Fuck yes. She wanted to know. She was interested.

I had hope.

I added, “I’m all alone.”

And yeah, that made me sound pathetic. This chick would think I was a loser. She’d run as fast as she could, and she could run faster than most. She had a freaking horse to do it for her. That would be a new low. A girl running away from me on a horse.

“You drink a lot.”

My head moved back. “What?”

She pointed to where my cabin was. “You drink a lot. Every night.”

A goddamn smile was stretching on my face. I couldn’t stop it. “Are you watching me?”

She shook her head. “I can smell it.”

Oh. That was new.

I gulped. “Really?”

Another small laugh, and she nodded. “Yeah.” She touched her nose. “I have better smell than normal people.”

Not the best way to impress someone.

I could only shake my head. “I don’t even know how to respond to that. Yeah.” Honesty it was going to be. “I do drink a lot.”

“Do you have a problem?”

My eyes narrowed again. There was no judgment from her, just curiosity. This girl wasn’t normal, which was a realization that hit me smack in the chest. I knew already, but it was just resonating throughout me more and more.

God. I couldn’t let her slip through my fingers, but I had a feeling that was what this girl did—to everyone.

“No, but I shouldn’t go as hard as I have been.”

“Why?”

I frowned. “Why should I not drink as much?”

“Why do you drink so much?”

“Uh.” I scratched behind my ear. “My brother died about almost eight months ago. I was on the phone with him when it happened.” I was going for broke. “It messed me up real bad.”

“But you’re an actor? That’s what you do for a job?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you’re working. That’s good. You’re not so messed up that you can’t keep a job.”

I frowned at her, then cracked a grin. “Are you Dr. Phil-ing me?”

She frowned this time. “What is that?”

She lived with horses.

“Nothing. Stupid joke.” I shook my head and tugged at my collar. Did it suddenly get hot out here? “My manager got me to do this movie, so here I am. Acting. Doing my job.” Sounding lame yet again.

She took a step toward me, bringing her feet almost into the river. “I don’t know what a Dr. Phil-ing is. Is that something to drink?”

I barked out a laugh and then stopped right away. I didn’t want her to think I was laughing at her. “He’s a psychologist or psychiatrist, whichever one, and he has his own show. He counsels people on television.”

Understanding dawned in her eyes, but she stepped back, her feet pulling farther away from the river. “I know what a counselor is.”

I wanted to ask how she knew. The question was burning on my tongue, but it was the same thing. If I pushed too much, would she run? I didn’t want that. I so didn’t want that.

Oh, fuck it. I was going for it.

“So, we’ve established that I’m somewhat of a drunk, and it’s because of my brother’s death.” I gestured to those woods again. “Can I ask about you? It’s the elephant in the room.”

She looked around. “We’re not in a room. There’s no elephant here.”

“It’s a phrase.” Shit. I was going too far. I needed to pull back. “Nothing. Sorry.”

I saw a faint grin. She was teasing me.

She asked, “Are you trying to ask me why I spend so much time with the horses?”

“Uh. Yeah.”

She shrugged, looking away. “It makes more sense to be with them.”

“Really?”

She nodded, turning back to me. “Don’t you feel like that? You’re here instead of being with the others up there?” She gestured toward the main lodge.

“They all went to the bars tonight. And . . .” Again, I was going for it. “I took a walk tonight hoping to see you.”

She continued to look at me. She didn’t break her gaze or even blink. Then she grinned, two soft dimples showing. “You’re flirting with me.”

“Damn straight.”

Her mouth parted a little. “When people flirt, are they this honest about it?”

“God, no.” I rubbed a hand over my face. Gayle would’ve been laughing her ass off at me if she were watching. The girl was calling me on everything. “There’s usually some innuendos, but nothing so out and out.”

“Innuendos.”

“Yeah. Where the message is implied but not so explicitly said.”

“Ah. Yes.” Her smile was fading, but it still lingered a bit longer. The wrinkles around her mouth remained. “I’d forgotten about that. I don’t talk to people.”

“Like ever?”

“As little as I can.” She shook her head. “Talking to people seems pointless to me.”

Holy fuck. There were so many questions I wanted to ask just off that one statement. I refrained. People wanted to know my business, and I was always turned off. I couldn’t bombard the girl.

“I get it. I do.”

She grinned again, and this time, I had the distinct impression she was laughing at me. “You do? You have a band of horses that’s taken you in too?”

“Yeah.” I didn’t remember the last time I’d smiled like this, maybe when I was a kid. “Don’t think you’re so special. My herd is made up of all stallions. Take that. All stallions. How many times does that work out?”

She stared at me and then peeled over in laughter the next second.

This girl. This female. This woman.

I wasn’t even sure which I was dealing with, but she humbled me. She wasn’t talking to me with an agenda. She didn’t want something from me. She didn’t see me with dollar signs in her eyes or her next acting gig already lined up. She was pure. She was innocent. And she had no idea how rare she was.

I felt stupidly little in that moment.

She was what every person wanted to find in life.

When she noticed I was looking at her weird, she quieted, a small chuckle slipping out, but she hid it behind a hand. “Sorry. Just—” She looked to the ground. “No one’s made that kind of joke to me before.”

How many jokes did she hear?

Who did make her laugh? How did they do that?

But I couldn’t ask her that. That was too much, too quick.

Keep it cool and classy and not so desperate. Goddamn I was desperate. I was desperate in a way that I didn’t even realize until I saw her up close and in person.

I shoved my hands into my pockets, more to hold myself back than anything else, and dropped my voice low. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“What?” Her laughter started to subside.

I felt a tug. I didn’t want that to happen.

“Can I ask who you are? Who’s your family? Why are you out here?”

She stared at me, that same deer-in-the-headlights look coming back to her. I shouldn’t have. I’d be cursing myself as soon as she left, but she never bolted. The silence stretched, my question hanging between us, and I was counting my blessings that I hadn’t scared her off. Yet.

I didn’t expect her to answer. I was thinking of something else to say, anything to keep her there when I heard, “I have family. Kind of.”

“Yeah?” Hope slammed into my chest. Hope like I’d never felt before. It sped my heart up. “What do you mean?”

She looked down, kicking at the river with her toe. “My mom died. A long time ago.”

Her mom?

Was it . . .

But it was. It had to be. The realization punched me in the stomach. It clicked in place.

“Was your mom’s name Karen?”

She nodded, gesturing toward the main lodge again. “It’s why you’re here, isn’t it? How she died.” Her eyebrows pulled together. She was frowning so hard that I ached to go over and smooth it out. She added quietly, “Matthew told me they changed the movie so she doesn’t die, but she did.”

Holy.

I couldn’t move for a moment.

Fucking.

No way.

Shit!

It was. This girl was a sibling, one who wasn’t known to anyone. My heart was beating fast, but I kept my voice smooth and controlled. “What do you mean?”

She rubbed behind her ear before bending, picking up a stone, and tossing it into the river. She watched it sink to the bottom. “He said it was going to be a happily ever after movie.” She paused a beat. “He said I wasn’t in the movie either.” Her eyes were back on me. Judging. Studying. “You can’t tell.”

It was an accusation and a request at the same time.

I breathed out harshly. “I won’t say a goddamn word. I promise.” I meant it. I meant every single word, every single syllable.

“My mom died beca—” She stopped talking and glanced behind her. I thought she’d look back, resume whatever she was going to say, but she didn’t. She held still, staring into the dark woods. A few seconds stretched to thirty, then a minute, and then two. I waited for what felt like a full three minutes before she looked back to me. An apology was in her eyes as she stepped back toward the trees. She said, “I’m sorry,” before she was gone.

She vanished.

It happened in the blink of an eye.

I strained to hear, but there wasn’t even so much as a twig snapping under her feet. There was no pounding of hooves either.

She was there and then gone.

And despite my earlier questions, I was left standing there, unsure if I’d just had a conversation with a ghost or not.