After Tex (19 page)

 

“You want to do your show right here in my kitchen?” Peggy asked, staring at Megan incredulously.

“I'm in a real bind,” Megan told her. She explained about Tess. “There was no way I could go to New York, not this next week, anyway. But if I don't get those shows done on schedule, there's a good chance I can kiss my syndication deal goodbye. I'm going to look at some possible space for a studio later this morning, but there's no way to get a facility equipped overnight. Then I remembered what you've done with your kitchen. It's almost exactly like the set in New York.” She watched Peggy worriedly. “So, what do you think? Could we do the tapings here?”

“All day for three days?”

“I'm afraid so. How would Johnny feel about it? We'd put everything back exactly the way we found it at the end of each day. Of course, I couldn't promise that we'd be out in time for you to fix supper. We'd pay for all of you to go out to dinner those nights.”

Peggy looked hesitant. “I don't know. If it were just up to me, I'd say yes in a heartbeat. You know I would. But Johnny, he's used to a certain routine.”

“You could be on the show,” Megan suggested, ignoring her hesitation and trying to sweeten the deal so it would be irresistible. “You could help with one of the segments. Just imagine how proud he'd be.”

Peggy was clearly tempted. “Me? I don't know anything about TV.”

“But you know about cooking and all sorts of other things. It would be fun. We could talk about the things we did way back when. You could share all my dirty little secrets,” she said, knowing that there were none that would be too embarrassing. She'd
been a model kid, partly out of fear that Tex would abandon her if she weren't. Loving Jake had been her only rebellion.

“You mean like the way you were head over heels in love with Jake Landers?” Peggy said, as if she'd picked up on Megan's thoughts.

Megan's cheeks burned. “Maybe not that one.”

“Too close to real life today, right?”

“Don't be silly. Jake and I are nothing more than old friends.”

“It didn't look that way to me the other night when you came to dinner.”

“I am not discussing Jake with you. I'm here to talk about borrowing your kitchen for a few days. Can I do it?”

“Oh, what the hell, why not?”

“Do you need to talk it over with Johnny?”

“He'll live with it,” Peggy said with an odd touch of defiance. “Or he'll take off in a snit.” She shrugged. “If he does, it can't be helped. It won't be the first time. Besides, this is an emergency.”

Megan studied Peggy intently, belatedly aware that she might be adding to the already simmering tension in the Barkley household. “Are you sure? If this is going to be a problem, I'll invade Mrs. Gomez's kitchen at the ranch. I thought of yours because it's more up-to-date and I thought you might get a kick out of it.”

“No, you'll do it here and that's that.” Peggy got an impish gleam in her eyes. “Maybe we should make taffy.”

“Oh, no,” Megan said with a laugh, remembering the last time all too well. “You aren't getting me to
do that ever again. We had to cut off half my hair when that inedible goo we made got tangled up in it.”

“I'm sure we could get it right this time,” Peggy said, looking innocent. “When I make it with the kids, it turns out perfect.”

“It must have been me, then.” Megan shook her head. “No way. I'm not taking any chances. This haircut of mine cost a fortune. I don't want to have to take my own scissors to it.”

They were still laughing at old memories a few minutes later when Johnny came into the kitchen. He regarded Megan with what seemed like suspicion.

“Didn't expect to find you here,” he said as he snagged a soft drink out of the refrigerator, popped it open and leaned back against the counter. “I figured it would be another ten or twenty years before we saw you again.”

“Johnny, stop. Megan came by to see if she could tape some shows in our kitchen next week,” Peggy said cheerily. “Isn't that exciting?”

Johnny looked anything but excited. He regarded his wife with disapproval. “And you said yes, I suppose? Just like you always did when she got one of her big ideas.”

Peggy stared right back at him, her gaze unflinching. “Well, of course I did. She's in a bind. I knew you'd feel the same way I did, that we had to help her out.”

Johnny shook his head. “I don't know. Sounds like a lot of commotion to me.”

“It's a few days,” Peggy insisted. “We'll survive
it. The kids cause a ruckus around here all the time. This won't be much worse.”

“Can't say I like the idea of a lot of strangers tromping around our place.”

“Well, I've already said yes, and that's that,” Peggy said, regarding him defiantly.

Increasingly uncomfortable with the argument swirling around her, Megan rose. “Look, I'll leave you two to talk it over. Peggy, I'll give you a call later to see what you've decided, okay?”

By the time she reached her car, she could hear voices escalating inside, and regretted ever making the suggestion. She should have been more sensitive to the undercurrents she'd sensed at dinner, and avoided suggesting anything that might give them yet another reason to fight.

Unfortunately, it was too late to withdraw the idea. Peggy was clearly excited about it. All Megan could do would be to call her later this afternoon and give her a chance to change her mind.

Maybe it wouldn't be impossible to turn one of the warehouses into a studio overnight. After all, there were plenty of women across the country who thought she specialized in miracles. What was one more?

M
egan stood in the center of the cavernous warehouse and listened to the sound of her own voice echoing around the building. The floor was concrete, the walls bare metal. If it had ever been used for anything, there was no sign of what. It had an abandoned, cold, dank air about it.

“Well, what do you think?” Jake asked, as if he were showing off the Taj Mahal.

“It's certainly big enough,” she said, then sighed. “I don't know. I'm not a technical person. I have no idea what it would take to make this into a working studio. I do know it couldn't be done by next week. For one thing it's freezing in here. It would have to be heated. Even with all the lights, it would be frigid.”

“I didn't think you needed it up and running by next week. I thought you were going by Peggy's this morning to get her on board for those tapings. Didn't she agree?”

“Peggy's for it. Johnny's not so hot on the idea. They were battling it out when I left.” She regarded him guiltily. “I'm afraid I caused another rift between them.”

“Seems to me it doesn't take much,” Jake said.

Megan's gaze narrowed. This wasn't the first little hint he'd dropped about the state of Peggy's marriage. Megan was getting tired of his evasiveness when she asked about it. This time she wasn't going to let him off the hook.

“Meaning?” she asked.

“Just that people who are looking for a fight can usually find one.”

“I think you meant something more. Spill it, Jake. What do you know?”

“I've told you before I'm not going to spread gossip—”

“What gossip?” she asked, seizing on the fact that there was some.

He regarded her evenly. “Let's move on to another topic, okay? Otherwise, we're the ones likely to be fighting.”

She gauged his mood and decided to give up. “Okay, let's discuss you and Josh Wilson. I heard about what you did for Janie.”

He seemed surprised. “How'd you hear about that?”

“I stopped by Henrietta's for a cup of coffee before I met you. It was the talk of the diner. Janie says there are workmen swarming all over that house this morning.”

Jake grinned. “I counted a half dozen when I went by.”

He looked like a kid who'd just bested the school-yard bully. “Proud of yourself, aren't you?” she asked.

“I'm just glad Janie and Tommy will have a decent place to live.”

“That is a bonus,” Megan teased. “You're really glad you had a chance to put the screws to Josh.”

“Okay, that, too. I hope it'll only be the first time of many,” he said fiercely. “Can you blame me, after the way he treated my mother and me, because she was in no position to stand up to him?”

“Of course not. Any other causes you intend to take on?”

“Hard to tell. Right now, I have this TV host who's in desperate need of studio and office space. I'm devoting all my time to her.”

His gaze locked with hers. Megan suspected finding a studio facility for her was the least of his intentions. She had too much on her mind to cope with old, unresolved emotions. She forced her attention back to the problem at hand.

“Let me see what the crew thinks when they get here,” she said. “If they think it's workable, we'll do it.”

“And in the meantime?”

“In the meantime, I'll just keep my fingers crossed that Peggy wins that argument with Johnny. If she doesn't, Mrs. Gomez is going to have to make room for a camera crew at the ranch.”

And Megan was going to have to find some way to keep her attention from drifting all too often to the man who'd been a steadfast presence in her life ever since her return to Whispering Wind.

 

A half-dozen people from Megan's staff descended on Whispering Wind on Saturday, led by Todd. Megan had booked every room at the town's only motel. She'd put Todd in the guest quarters at the ranch, a
decision that raised Micah's ire. She stormed off in another huff.

By Saturday evening they were all crammed into Tex's office going over production schedules. Even Micah had put aside her resentment to pitch in.

Jake, bless him, had taken Tess out for dinner to keep her from being underfoot.

“When can we see this location kitchen?” Kenny asked. “I've got to get the crew in there to start blocking shots.”

Megan hesitated. Peggy had confirmed that they could use the kitchen, but not until Monday. The news wasn't going to sit well.

“Sorry, guys. Not until first thing Monday.”

Kenny stared at her, clearly dismayed. “You've got to be kidding. How are we supposed to tape on Monday if we haven't even seen the setup?”

“That's the deal and there's nothing I can do about it,” Megan said. “You can do the advance work on Monday and we'll wait till Tuesday to tape. We can go through Friday, if need be.” She prayed Peggy would go along with that. She glanced at Micah. “Are all the segments ready to go?”

“Right here,” Micah said, handing her a sheaf of papers. “The materials are boxed up by episode and ready to go, too. They arrived on the same plane we did. I've checked to make sure none are missing. I'm storing everything in one of those warehouses in town, just like you said. We'll bring 'em out to the location as we need 'em.”

There were a thousand more details to be hammered out, and after the initial grumbling, everyone tackled the project as professionally as Megan had
hoped they would. By midnight, she was satisfied that the productions wouldn't be total disasters. Even Micah seemed more upbeat. Meeting the challenge of doing an impromptu location shoot seemed to inspire her.

“I can't thank you all enough for pitching in like this,” Megan said.

“Hey, our jobs are on the line, too,” Kenny said.

“Can I get you anything before you head back into town?”

“Nope, I'm going to that bar down the street from the hotel for one stiff drink and then I'm heading to bed,” the director said wearily. “Tomorrow the sound and lighting techs and I are going over that warehouse to see what it would take to turn it into a studio.”

“Bring me a budget projection as soon as you have one.”

“Since this is temporary, do you want bare-bones improvements or state-of-the-art?”

She considered the question carefully. As desperately as she wanted to believe this was only a stopgap measure, she knew there was a possibility it could turn into something permanent. And there was also Jake's notion of renting the facilities out to other productions.

“State-of-the-art,” she said finally.

The response drew groans, then assurances that she would get a complete report the next day.

After the others had gone, Todd regarded her wearily. “This is it, then? You're staying indefinitely?”

“I'm taking one day at a time.”

“Megan, there's not even a department store close
by, much less a Bloomingdale's or a Barney's. Are you sure this town is living in the twentieth century?”

She grinned at his dismayed tone. “There's not a lot of call for designer clothes out here. A good pair of jeans will cover just about any occasion,” she teased.

“I was afraid of that.”

“Give it a chance, Todd. Please. I can't do this without you.”

“Executive assistants are a dime a dozen.”

“They're not you.”

“I'm a New Yorker, Megan.”

“Aren't New Yorkers known for being able to cope with any challenge?”

He regarded her with suspicion. “Yes. So?”

“Think of this as another challenge.”

“Riding the subway is a challenge. Walking through Central Park without getting mugged is a challenge. Finding an apartment without roaches is a challenge. This is…” Words clearly failed him.

“A favor to a friend,” she suggested softly.

He scowled at her. “You don't play fair.”

“Not when it's this important,” she agreed. “When it's this important, I play to win.”

“Okay, I'll stay for the time being,” he agreed. “But I will not wear boots and jeans, and that's that.”

“Deal.”

“By the way, how do I get a taxi out here?”

Megan grinned. “You don't.”

He stared at her. “Then how am I supposed to get around?”

“You drive.”

“Not me.”

Surely he wasn't saying what she thought he was saying. “You mean you can't?”

He regarded her defensively. “It's not a crime, Megan. Who needs to drive a car in New York?”

“I'll teach you,” she assured him, then chuckled. “Right after I teach you to ride a horse.”

“Very amusing,” he shot back. “But I'm getting the last laugh. I neglected to mention that when I called Peter to cancel your meeting, he decided to fly out here himself.”

“Oh, no,” she said weakly.

“Oh, yes.”

“When?”

“He'll be here tomorrow. He thinks he's coming in to save the day. I'm pretty sure he watched at least a dozen Westerns on video just to be sure he got it right. He's probably bought a white Stetson, so you'll recognize him as the hero.”

Not even the incongruous image of her balding, cherubic-faced accountant in a Stetson could make her smile. Peter in Wyoming was as unthinkable as serving onion dip and chips at a society soiree.

“You couldn't stop him?” she asked.

“Now, why would I do that?” he inquired innocently. “You told me yourself that your social life is none of my concern.”

“Peter is my accountant.”

“You know that, and I almost believe that, but he doesn't have a clue. I'm not about to be the one to tell him.”

“Thank you very much.”

“It could have been worse,” Todd suggested.

“I can't see how.”

“I could have let him surprise you the way he wanted to.”

“Yes,” she conceded. “It could definitely have been worse.”

 

Jake had had every intention of going to the warehouse with Megan's crew the next morning, but just as they were about to leave his office, Henrietta came flying across the street, apron flapping. She paused at the sight of all the strangers.

“Sorry. I didn't know I'd be interrupting.”

“It's okay, Henrietta. These gentlemen work for Megan,” Jake said, introducing them. He regarded her worriedly. “Is something wrong?”

“Could I see you outside?”

“I was about to take them out to the warehouse.”

“This is more important,” Henrietta insisted. “I wouldn't be here if it weren't.”

Jake turned to Ken Hawkins and handed him the keys. “You can't miss the place. It's about five miles outside of town. These keys will get you into any of the buildings. They're all available, so just decide which one will suit your needs. I'll get out there as soon as I can.”

“No problem,” Kenny said. He nodded at Henrietta, then led the others out of Jake's office.

“Nice bunch,” Henrietta said. “They had breakfast at the diner. They were real polite. Big tippers, too. I figured they had something to do with Megan. Sounded like New Yorkers.”

“You didn't come over here to talk about how well they tipped. What's up?”

“It's Barbara Sue. She showed up for work about
a half hour ago. Lyle's been at her again. I've put her to work in the kitchen, so she doesn't have to show her bruised-up face, but something's got to be done about that man. She says he hasn't gone after the kids yet, but if you ask me, it's only a matter of time before one of them steps in his path.”

“Does she want to talk to me?”

“I didn't give her a choice—I just came to get you.”

“Henrietta, I can't help her if she doesn't want to be helped.”

“You can lay out her options. I don't believe she thinks she has any. Now, are you coming or aren't you? I've got customers to see to.”

A bulldozer was more subtle than Henrietta when her mind was made up. “I'm coming,” Jake said.

He found Barbara Sue Perkins in the kitchen washing dishes. She didn't look up when he came in. Even so, he could see the swelling on her face and the growing black-and-blue mark on her jaw. He pulled up a stool and sat behind her at the food-preparation island. It was littered with the remnants of chopped vegetables being readied for lunchtime salads.

“Hey, Barbara Sue.”

“Hi, Jake,” she said without turning. The scanty part of her face that wasn't bruised flushed red with embarrassment. “What are you doing here?”