Cal smiled and shook his head as he reached his truck. He opened the door and climbed into the cab. Naomi had been right. Piper Logan was a hard nut to crack, but Cal had dealt with others just as hard, if not harder. Glancing at the twin containers still sitting on the porch, he thought anyone that resistant to friendship probably curled up at night with a large bowl of ice cream and a tearjerker movie. He’d done it with a keg of beer and a revolving door at the pizza shop.

  He smiled again. He should have brought her ice cream, but carbs or not, he was sure she’d eventually pick up the dessert.

  * * *

  CAKE, THAT WAS a new one. Piper was still thinking about Cal’s unique approach the next day after her lesson as she ran up the stairs to her bedroom. She hadn’t heard much about Caleb Masters. Her conversations with the townspeople centered on riding lessons, horse upkeep and the weather. Yet news of the new owner of the Christensen ranch had reached her ears. And he had the nerve to bring her cake. Obviously, he didn’t understand that the camera added pounds to a person’s image.

  Piper stopped in the process of removing her trousers. Of course he didn’t. He wasn’t part of the industry. In her world, the only people she knew were part of the dream factory. They made movies, supplied fantasies, worked behind the scenes so theatergoers could have a thrilling experience.

  Throwing the trousers in the closet, but missing the hamper, she didn’t understand why she was so angry. Caleb said he was being neighborly. Maybe it was the entire situation that had forced her to leave Hollywood and return to the ranch. She loved it here, but she didn’t want to be here feeling like she’d been run out of Hollywood.

  And there was what she’d heard on the news this morning. Her coffee had gone cold in her mouth as Xavier’s face on the screen left her with a sour taste. Apparently, he’d completed the large contract she’d begun. Invariably, the segment ended with his association to her. Would she ever live that frightful day down?

  Shaking her head at the image that accused her in the mirror, Piper knew she needed some exercise, someplace to expend her pent-up energy. She’d already ridden Silver, but she still felt the need to push her body. Quickly, she changed into her leotard and slipped her feet into a pair of well-worn sneakers. Grabbing her soft sole gymnastic shoes, she left by the back door and headed for the old barn that she’d converted into a personal gym. Entering the cavernous space always made her feel better. Anger slipped from her shoulders. Changing from her sneakers to the beam shoes, she went through the routine of stretching her muscles. With all the teaching she did, the walking and riding, the demonstrations, she should be all right to do some tumbling. Yet she knew how easy it was to injure herself, so she took precautions.

  Completing the routine she’d learned years ago, she chalked her hands and saluted the beam. It was the first apparatus she’d trained on and she still went there whenever she practiced. But today she needed something more strenuous. Running across the padded floor, she did several front flips and back flips before coming to a standstill at the other side of the mat. Gathering her hair and pulling it into a ponytail, she secured it. Then repeating the routine, she did flip after flip until she was back at her starting position.

  She felt better. The exercise had already begun to glisten her skin. Her muscles were relaxed and ready for what she needed to do. The uneven parallel bars stood before her. Lifting her heels, she went up on practiced legs. Taking a long breath, she ran forward, her speed increasing with each slap of her foot on the mat. Her hands caught the lower bar and she swung her body up. As she came down, her hands and feet were on the same bar ready to swing to the higher one.

  Something was wrong. She felt it in the bar’s tension.

  Stopping her swing, she walked across the mats, checking the connections.

  “Hello.”

  Piper stiffened. The voice came from behind her, but she recognized the deep tone of her new and annoying neighbor.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, spinning around to face him.

  “This time I did come to see the horses.”

  He looked past her at the equipment she’d been checking.

  “What are you doing?”

  “My plan was to exercise, but I felt something that didn’t feel secure.”

  Without asking first, Caleb Masters came right into the converted barn and started to examine the connections.

  “This is not completely secure,” Caleb said. Moving past her, he went to the bars and began inspecting the guy cables that attached to the floor and stabilized the setup. Piper followed him.

  “I know,” Piper responded. “I was about to fix it.”

  The gym was a converted barn. The outside walls that were once only bare beams and slatted wood had been insulated and closed against the weather. Windows were cut in the sides and skylights adorned the ceiling. The place was bright, and from the inside, there was little evidence that a barn had ever stood in the same place.

  Testing each guy-wire cable individually, Caleb paused after an unexpected sound. “This is the one.”

  Piper pulled the mat that was covering the attachment and found the problem.

  “It’s the swivel anchor. It’s coming up from the floor,” she said, hearing the wonder in her own voice.

  “And I think this cable tightener is on backward,” Caleb said.

  “It’s facing the wrong way. How could I not notice that?” Piper spoke more to herself than to Caleb. She looked up. “It’ll have to be broken down and redone.”

  “It won’t take that long to redo.” He glanced up at her. “If you have the tools, I can help.”

  Piper didn’t have a choice. This was a two-person operation, and if she wanted to use the equipment without getting someone out to help her, she’d have to accept Caleb’s offer.

  “I’d appreciate that,” she said, swallowing her pride. “I keep my tools in that chest.” She indicated a gray-and-red multi-drawer tool chest in a corner near the entrance.

  Piper went to it, opening various drawers and extracting the correct tools. Caleb met her halfway and took several of them from her. Their hands touched and she felt the warmth of his palm against hers. Dropping her gaze to their hands, she could still feel the heat even though they no longer made contact. It had been a while since she had that reaction to a man. She reminded herself she was not here for romance. He wasn’t here for the long run and neither was she. They’d both be going back to their other lives. Piper wasn’t sure when she would leave. No one in Hollywood was calling her. Xavier had made sure of that. Pushing thoughts of her ex-fiancé out of her mind, she concentrated on fixing the cables.

  Caleb completed his side of the bars before Piper had hers done.

  “You’re no novice at this,” she stated.

  “I’ve put together one or two in my time,” he said.

  “Really? When? Why?” Piper looked at Caleb, but he was busy with the guy-wires.

  “I once worked in a gym.”

  He didn’t add anything further and she didn’t pursue the issue. She felt he didn’t want to tell her any more and she knew everyone had secrets they’d rather not have exposed. Yet he didn’t strike her as aloof. He had an air of...something, she thought, but couldn’t define.

  They worked in silence until all the bars, tubes and cables were lying on the floor in order.

  Piper stood up straight and looked at the arrangement. Everything was in place. All they needed to do was to reassemble it. She glanced at Caleb. He was tall, at least six feet, maybe a little more. By the deepness of his tan, it looked as if he spent a lot of time outside, not only at a job, but also working out. If there was an ounce of fat on him, she didn’t know where he was hiding it. His eyes were dark brown, darker than his hair, which had lighter highlights and tended to spike. It seemed darker in the gym than it had outside, but the skylights revealed several changes of color. With powerful legs, broad shoulders, a strong square jawline and a killer smile, he could test for the leading man role at any Hollywood studio.

  Piper considered herself lucky that she was immune to Hollywood types. She’d worked with enough of them to know that a lot of them believed their hype.

  “Ready to put it together again?” Caleb asked.

  It took a breath for Caleb’s words to register. “Oh, sure.”

  She reached down and picked up one of the side tubes. Then realizing her mistake, she put it down again. Caleb said nothing and Piper was grateful for that. Why had she done that? She could put this apparatus together in her sleep. She just hadn’t done it in a while. In less than half an hour, the two of them were done.

  Caleb tested the bars, first hanging from the higher one and bending his knees to swing. The tension was good, Piper observed, failing to keep her eyes off the lean lines of Caleb’s body. On the lower bar, he jumped up and balanced himself on strong thighs. With his back hollowed, his position morphed into a tight arch. He was not a novice, Piper thought. Far from it. She watched him swing fully over the bar before landing on his feet and standing up.

  Piper let out a breath as if she’d completed a routine.

  “These are not regulation size,” Caleb said, looking from the bars to her.

  It took her a second to follow what he meant. “I had them custom made because of my height.”

  She watched as Caleb’s eyes took in her frame. He nodded slightly, but it wasn’t to her. It felt more like an appraisal, a compliment. She pressed her lips together to keep from smiling.

  “Why don’t you give it a try?” he said after collecting all the tools and giving her room to pass him.

  Piper suddenly felt self-conscious. She’d performed for ten years in front of a full complement of camera operators, actors, directors, grips, carpenters and scores of other people without a second thought. But now, with an audience of one, she felt as if this was an Olympic competition and her entire career depended on her winning.

  Taking a long breath, Piper chalked her hands and pulled on her grips. Stepping onto the mat, she raised and lowered her arms, then started her run. Catching the lower bar, she immediately swung into a Stalder position, swinging around the bar several times before piking and transferring to the higher bar. There she swung through several giants before standing still for a beat at the top and turning totally around, reversing her swing.

  Dismounting, she felt flushed and hot. The apparatus was strong and safe. “It feels good,” she said, still self-conscious. She wasn’t a performer. She wanted to thank Caleb and have him return to his ranch. “Thank you for your help.”

  Caleb didn’t immediately move. In fact, he stopped in his tracks. “You’re not used to having people help you, are you?”

  “I wouldn’t say that.” She glanced at the bars. “You just helped me put this together.”

  “But if you could have done it alone, you’d have dismissed me in a moment.”

  “I thought you were here to see your horses,” she said.

  “There’s no harm in accepting help.”

  She ignored his comment.

  “I don’t expect anything in return. It was just a simple act of friendship,” Caleb continued.

  With that, he closed the drawer of the tool chest and walked through the open doorway. Piper wanted to call him back and explain, but she stopped herself. It was none of his business. He’d volunteered to help correct the configuration of the bars. She had not asked him to. She could also have found the problem herself, but that might have been when it was too late. But she had thanked him. So what was the problem?

  * * *

  NAOMI’S GRIN WAS wide and toothy when Cal came in. “Is that a beer expression or a Johnnie Walker Red?” she asked.

  “Black,” Cal replied, even though it was nowhere near happy hour.

  Naomi laughed again. “At least she didn’t throw you out. You were gone a couple of hours.”

  “I was helping her resecure some gym equipment. The minute it was ready for use, she dismissed me.”

  Naomi howled, handing him a glass containing a finger of whiskey.

  “It’s not that funny,” Cal said, already beginning to laugh himself.

  “That’ll teach you.”

  “Teach me what?” He took a sip from the glass. The liquor was cold, undiluted by anything except three ice cubes. It went down smooth and spread heat throughout his chest.

  “Not to mess with Ms. Hollywood.”

  Cal had learned that Naomi could be a bit caustic, but it was all bravado.

  She stretched the syllables out on Hollywood, lowering her voice and holding on to the end of the word for three beats longer than necessary.

  “Is that what they call her?” He referred to the townspeople, not wanting to single Naomi out. He knew that Naomi would know, and that if asked for information, you got it—straight.

  Maybe he would ask about Piper sometime, but not today.

  Cal wondered what they called him. People talked in small towns, especially about newcomers. Naomi would tell him if he asked, but he decided not to. Not until he proved himself. And so far, he hadn’t proved anything in Waymon Valley. He glanced at the wall toward Piper’s ranch. He’d shown her that he could put together a piece of gymnastic equipment, but that hadn’t impressed her. She could do it herself, but it would be easier and quicker with help from one of the ranch hands.

  “For a few moments I thought she was being friendly.” Cal’s comment was mostly to himself, yet Naomi stopped stirring something in a bowl.

  “You’re not the only man who’s tried to get her attention.”

  “It isn’t that. I mean I’m not interested in a relationship. It’s just that we live next door to each other...”

  Naomi was already nodding her head. The gesture said agreement, but her expression was the direct opposite. “This is Montana, Cal. Next door is like twenty miles away.”

  It wasn’t that far, but close to it when you took the main roads. On horseback, it was much closer. And he had noticed an unpaved track that connected his ranch to hers. Yet Cal didn’t argue with Naomi. He sort of identified with Piper. Both were outsiders. Although she seemed a bit unhappy being a recluse. He’d seen his brother bury his feelings and avoid all contact after an accident. Piper had similar tendencies.

  He shouldn’t interfere in her life. He wasn’t staying in Waymon Valley. But his curiosity was piqued. He wanted to know why she shunned friendship.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ICED TEA, Piper thought. It was her panacea. Whenever the world crowded in on her, and that had been a lot lately, she’d make tea. It was something she’d learned from her mother. Not the actual brewing of the tea, but the calming effect the effort of making it had on her.

  The kitchen was huge and comfortable. Her aunt and uncle had owned the place before she inherited it and her aunt had upgraded the kitchen with every modern convenience there was. Yet the room still held the warmth and charm of a country farmhouse.

  After pouring herself a tall glass, Piper settled on the cushions under the wall of windows that looked out on the mountains in the distance. As a child, she lived closer to town, but most of her days were spent with her aunt and uncle. She’d sit in the window and read while her aunt baked bread or prepared dinner. She smiled, sipping her tea and remembering her aunt and uncle’s efficient movements about the room. There were times when the two would dance across the floor. They really loved each other, and while the memory warmed her, Piper missed them terribly.

  She missed the Christensens, too. They had moved to Arizona when Mr. Christensen developed COPD, chronic obstructive pulmonary disease. Two of their three daughters lived in Tucson. Their son moved to Los Angeles. Only Anna, the oldest, remained in the state. After generations of Christensens living on the ranch, they’d sold it to Caleb.

  Piper would keep the place as a loving sanctuary. The thousand-acre spread had been a cattle ranch originally, but today it had meadows and horses.

  She hadn’t been in the Christensen house since she moved away ten years ago. She knew a few people who’d remained in the Valley, and she remembered it as a friendly place. It hadn’t changed.

  She had.

  It was the accident in Hollywood that plagued her. Piper thought that after a year, she’d have forgotten it. But as she’d learned, life rarely followed a set course.

  Piper rested the glass of iced tea against her forehead. What was she going to do? She couldn’t let Xavier’s comments control her life. She’d gone over that stunt at least twenty times before the filming started. Every detail was correct. Every practice was perfect. She knew every inch of the scaffolding well enough that she could put it together blindfolded. She had a recording of the accident. She’d seen it a thousand times. That day was imprinted on her brain. She could recall it as clearly as she remembered what the Montana Rockies look like from astride her horse.

  Piper leaned back. She’d never been badly hurt during a stunt. Her injuries were always minor, never requiring a trip to the emergency room. She didn’t even have a scratch to point to as a badge of honor.

  Piper was meticulous in designing and working out the plans for the director. That was why Xavier had given her the responsibility for the action sequence that proved her downfall. Even though Xavier had checked the rigging and given his approval, Austin, the stuntman, was critically injured and nearly died. News spread like a gasoline fire across Hollywood and the media. Some outlets cast her as incompetent. She was the villain in a production led by sound bites straight from Xavier’s mouth. So much for loyalty or support. She was out there on her own, virtually hung out to dry by everyone.

  Piper drank the last of the tea. Maybe she should go back and do more exercises, she thought. It hadn’t worked its usual magic. Then she thought of Caleb. She’d tried to push him away like she’d done most of the men who showed interest in her. Caleb’s actions were friendly, but she knew life would not remain that uncomplicated. Better to cut off any possibility of a future relationship.