As soon as he was out of the yard, Cole rolled down the windows of his truck and turned off the radio. He wanted some peace and quiet, and if rescuing Grace got him thirty minutes of peace, maybe she wasn’t so bad.
Ridiculous, though. Apparently she was way worse than he’d imagined. A thief, huh? He wouldn’t have guessed that. Though he hadn’t liked seeing her tortured earlier. Humiliated. Ironic that she’d been slapped in the face by the people she’d brought here.
After all her tough talk, he wouldn’t have expected her to put up with that kind of shit. But it seemed she was just like everyone else in Hollywood—willing to give up every bit of herself to get near the dream. Kissing ass. Apologizing for someone else treating her like shit.
When he saw her ten minutes later, she looked too small. She stood at the side of the road, arms crossed and jaw set, and glared at his truck as if Cole was to blame for whatever had happened. He pulled over and stared at her for a moment, so small against the wide landscape.
Grace glared and motioned for him to hurry up. He wondered if she’d bother with a thank-you.
“Hurry!” she said. When he opened the door, she rushed to speak. “I have to get back as soon as possible!”
Nope. No polite thank-you. Not even an impolite one. But then her face softened. Just for a split second before she got control. “I’m sorry. Thank you for coming. I just…”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know if it was a nail or a leak or… The tire’s flat and there’s no spare.”
“No spare?” He walked toward the car. “Pop the trunk.”
She rolled her eyes but opened the driver’s door and popped the trunk. The well that should’ve held the spare was, indeed, empty.
“Oh, look!” Grace exclaimed in a saccharin-sweet voice. “I’m not an idiot woman! It’s a miracle.”
“I’m here to help, you know.”
“Then help!”
He was surprised to find himself biting back a smile. “Fine. We’ll need to get the tire off and take it into town for a repair.”
“No! I can’t be late, Cole. Please. Not after that. Eve’s car… She’ll think… I just can’t be late.”
She wasn’t angry, he saw now. Not at all. She was scared. Anxious. And a little panicked, too. Her dark eyes darted from the car to him to his truck. “All right,” he said. “Get in. I’ll drive you and then come back for the tire.”
“Wait!” she yelled and jumped to open the back door. She pulled out what looked like a very fancy toolbox. “Okay. Let’s go!”
“Yes, ma’am,” he muttered. Christ, she was bossy. He should be happy to see her like this. Caught by the trouble she’d brought on them both. Nearly as tortured by these people as he was. She’d brought them here. She’d done this.
He opened the truck door for her before walking around to get in the driver’s seat.
“I thought a herd of those antelope were going to swarm me at any time,” she muttered.
“The pronghorn? You probably could’ve fought them off.”
“Oh, one, sure. But a whole herd? And this is right where we saw them.”
“Well, you made it.”
“Yes. And, Cole—thanks for saving me. Really.” She crossed her arms over her chest, and the movement made Cole think of her breasts. Naked. Small and tight and hot under his mouth.
He shifted. He didn’t want to see her like this. Vulnerable and worried. He wanted her to be a bitch again. The woman who’d completely screwed up his life.
“You know Madeline Beckingham,” she said out of the blue.
That worked just fine to get him pissed again. “Yeah? How would I know Madeline Beckingham?”
“You tell me, but it’s as obvious as the fact that there was no spare in that car.”
Fine. Now he knew what to feel. Anger. And discomfort. “She filmed a movie here a long time ago. I was an extra and I helped train some of the others in Western riding.”