Capture the Rainbow (9 page)

“Does it matter?” she asked evasively. She checked the pins that held her wig in place and tucked the blue tails of her shirt more snugly into her jeans. “The only important thing is for me to survive it. It will all be over in another few days anyway. After this I’ve only got the horse chase through the desert,” she paused deliberately, “and the jump across the canyon.”

A rare smile tugged at Skip’s lips. “You’re pushing, Ken.” The smile abruptly disappeared. “Damon paid me a visit last week and told me that I wasn’t to give you that special under any circumstances.”

Kendra tensed. “And?”

“I told him I’d give it to anyone I damn well pleased. No one tells me how to run my shop.” Seeing the hope that suddenly lit her face he continued quickly, “That doesn’t mean you’ve got it, Ken. I still haven’t made a decision. I’ll let you know after the horse chase.” He touched his index finger lightly to her cheek. “You’ve done a good job so far, Ken. Hang in there.” Then he wheeled and strode rapidly down the hill. He turned his head to call back over his shoulder. “And keep that left arm tucked under.”

She laughed and nodded. “Right.” She was suddenly buoyantly optimistic, her former weariness and discouragement completely gone. She waved mockingly at Joel on the hoist. “Ready, Mr. Damon?”

“Whenever you are, Kendra.” Joel’s voice was equally mocking.

She dropped to the ground, her gaze on Joel’s sardonic face, half hidden by sunglasses. “Let’s go for it!”

She drew a deep breath and launched herself forward, curling into a loose pliant ball, carefully keeping her arms tucked in. It was a bone-jarring tumble even with her padding and the special preparations that had been made to the earth on her charted path down the hill, but the momentum of her descent was so swift that she wasn’t aware of any danger until she heard Skip’s strident yell.

“Straighten out! For God’s sake, straighten out, Kendra!”

Something was wrong, she thought with a cold rush of fear. Then it was too late for any thought at all because the ground beneath her was suddenly much harder and she felt sharp pain as the sleeve of her shirt ripped and the soft skin of her upper arm was exposed to the rocky terrain.

Rocks! There shouldn’t be any rocks on this specially prepared path down the slope. Then she felt a hot wrenching agony in her lower back that blanked out all other sensations as well as thought. For several seconds she wasn’t even aware that she had reached the bottom of the hill and was lying in a limp heap a full five yards from the target area.

Skip reached her first. “Don’t move,” he ordered curtly, falling to his knees beside her. His hands were moving over her arms and legs swiftly. “Where does it hurt?”

“My back,” she said dazedly, “and my arm. What happened, Skip?”

“Your body wasn’t in line with the path,” he said absently. “You know even an inch or so slant can change the direction of the roll. You were only halfway down the hill when you catapulted off the path.” He glanced up reprovingly. “You should have checked your angle before you launched.”

She knew that, she thought crossly. She always checked the angle as a matter of course. But she hadn’t this time, damn it. She had been too busy gawking like a moon-eyed teenager at Joel Damon. How stupid could you get?

“Do you think anything’s broken?” Skip asked. “Shall I get a stretcher?”

She shook her head adamantly. “I just had the breath knocked out of me and wrenched my back a little. Give me a minute and I’ll be fine. Help me to sit up, will you?”

His arm was immediately around her shoulders and he was slowly levering her into a sitting position. “Yell if there’s any pain and I’ll stop.”

There was pain but less than she’d expected, she realized with relief. The weak ligaments hadn’t torn again as she had feared and the pain was probably only due to severe bruising. “It’s okay,” she said. “After I get my arm patched up, I’ll be able to do it again.”

“The hell you will.” Joel pushed through the circle of people surrounding her and dropped to his knees beside her. His green eyes were blazing in his pale face. “I think you’ve done enough damage for one day.” He turned to Skip. “Does she need a doctor?”

“I don’t think so,” Skip answered. “It’s probably just general bruising. Give her a couple hours and you’ll be able to get the take.”

“Screw the take,” Joel said succinctly. “She’s not working any more today.”

With one arm under her knees and the other around her back, he eased her away from Skip’s hold. “I’ll take care of her. Tell Ron we’re postponing the scene indefinitely and to shoot around it.” Then he was lifting and carrying her toward the jeep that was parked with the other vehicles at the edge of the clearing. She had been too surprised to protest at first, but as he placed her carefully in the passenger seat of the jeep she snapped out of her bemusement.

“This isn’t necessary, you know,” she said coolly. “I’ll be perfectly able to complete the take after I clean up the scratch on my arm and change my shirt. I know you don’t want to lose any shooting time just because I blew the run-through.”

“Shut up,” Joel grated through set teeth as he slipped into the driver’s seat and put the jeep in gear. “How could you know anything? You’ve got to be the most stubborn, stupidest woman on the face of the earth.” He was gunning the accelerator and tearing down the dirt road toward the village. “Just look at you. You’re dirty and bleeding; probably every inch of your body is bruised and battered. You’ve been rolling down that lousy hill half the afternoon at the command of a man who could tell you to do it indefinitely.” His fist slammed against the steering wheel. “And you’d do it, dammit. You’d do it for as long as you were told to do it.”

“What the devil are you so angry about?” she blazed back at him. “You’re the one giving the orders, remember? I merely do what the great god in the director’s chair decrees.”

“You didn’t have to obey those decrees. You could have opted out at any time. If you had any sense at all, you would have done just that.”

“I’m sure you would have liked that very much, wouldn’t you, Joel? That would have proved how right you were about me. Simply one more weak, clinging female willing to give up her independence and lean on your big strong shoulders. Sorry to disappoint you.” She found she was trembling and wrapped her arms around herself. “I don’t know why you’re so upset. It was just another stunt and not even a very dangerous one at that. On film it’s going to look like an amusing romp when Billie tumbles down that hill and then bounds to her feet with a John Williams march blaring in the background.”

“An amusing romp,” he echoed through clenched teeth. “I think you’d better shut up, Kendra. One more word out of you and I may do more damage to you than that bitch of a hill.”

“I still think you’re being absurd to cancel the shooting when I can perfectly well—”

“Kendra.” Her name was spoken with an icy menace that caused her to subside reluctantly. It was obvious that Joel was furious and she was in no shape to fight him at the moment. She had better save her strength to fight off the weakness that was attacking her limbs. It was only reaction. She’d be better any minute now. Just breathe deeply and get control of your muscles, she told herself.

They were both silent for the rest of the way to the village. It was only when Joel pulled to a stop in front of a large trailer that served him as an office as well as quarters that she spoke.

“You’re not taking me to the first aid tent?”

“I said I’d take care of you.” Joel was out of the jeep and unlocking the front door of the trailer. He turned and before she could get out of the jeep, he scooped her up and carried her up the stairs. “I want to make sure you’re all right myself. I wouldn’t put it past you to try to hide a couple of broken ribs just to prove what a tough broad you are.” He put her down carefully on the long blue couch that took one entire wall of the living room of the trailer. “Now, sit there while I get some bandages and antiseptic. I don’t want you to move a muscle, understand?”

He didn’t wait for an answer but strode swiftly toward the back of the trailer, pausing a moment to close the front door on the way.

She wished he hadn’t done that. With the door open, the afternoon sunshine had helped to relieve the coldness of the air-conditioning in the trailer. Now she couldn’t seem to stop shivering. She stared unseeingly at the portable movie screen across from the couch, trying desperately to control that sign of weakness before Joel came back.

“What the hell?” Joel’s voice was rough with exasperation as he appeared beside her with a metal first aid box, a cloth, and a basin of water in his hand. He set them on the floor and knelt before her. “You’re shaking like a malaria victim. I thought you said you were all right?”

“I am all right,” she said quickly. “It’s just that the air conditioning is turned up so high that my body hasn’t adjusted to it after the heat outside. Give me a minute and I’ll be fine.”

“If you don’t shake to pieces first.” He got lithely to his feet and moved swiftly to the closet across the room. In a moment he was back and wrapping a gray tweed sport coat around her shoulders. It smelled of spicy cologne and fine wool and was blessedly warm, but instinctively she tried to slip it off and return it to him.

“No,” she protested. “I’ll get blood on it.”

“Sit still,” he said tersely as he dropped down on his knees before her once again. He opened the first aid box and took out a bandage, scissors, and antiseptic, and put them on the floor. Then his hands were on her shirt, rapidly unbuttoning it.

“But blood stains are very difficult—”

“I’m sure you’re an expert on blood stains, but I’m not really interested.” He parted the shirt to stare at her in amazement. “What in heaven’s name do you have on?”

“Padding.” She looked down at the thin long-sleeved vest she was wearing. “Very efficient. It’s not too bulky but has a tough cushion that offers more protection than you’d think. It was developed by NASA for the astronaut program.”

“Fascinating,” Joel said dryly. “It can’t be too tough by the look of that tear in the sleeve.”

“It’s not supposed to act as armor, only a cushion. I wasn’t supposed to encounter any obstacles on that path!”

“I know that,” he said roughly. He had finished unfastening the undervest and was carefully slipping it off her shoulders. “There wasn’t supposed to be any danger to you at all on the roll. Do you think I would have had you do it over and over if I had had any idea this would happen?” He glared disgustedly at the white elastic binding he’d uncovered. “And now what the devil is this, another vest?”

She shook her head. “It’s an elastic bandage to flatten my breasts. I have to wear it all the time when I’m doubling for Billie.” She added quickly, “You don’t have to take it off. It’s wrapped around me underneath my armpits and won’t get in your way when you’re bandaging my arm.”

But his hands were already at the fastening at her rib cage. “It comes off. It must be hellishly uncomfortable being wrapped up in that straitjacket. Don’t worry. I’m not about to be overcome by lechery. I’m feeling a hell of a lot of emotions at the moment, but lust isn’t one of them.” He unwound the bandage with an impersonal deftness, watching dispassionately as her naked breasts sprang to their former fullness when he freed them. “What a criminal waste to do that to them.” Then his hands were at the pins that secured her wig and a moment later his fingers were combing through her chestnut hair as it tumbled about her shoulders. “That’s better. I was beginning to wonder if I was ever going to come to the end of this camouflage.” His hands were wringing out the warm soapy cloth in the basin and he gently began to wash her face and throat.

It was very soothing sitting there as he stroked the washcloth over her breasts and stomach before he slipped the tweed jacket from her shoulders. She started to shiver again as the cool air touched her damp skin. “I’ll be through here in just a minute and get you something to slip on,” he said as he quickly washed her shoulders and then her arms. “This cut isn’t as bad as I thought. When I first saw the blood I thought you were really hurt. It’s not much more than a scratch.”

“I told you there wasn’t any need to delay the shooting.” She watched as he put antiseptic on the jagged cut and then applied the bandage. “You’ve got the shot all set up and there’s no sense wasting it. If you’ll drive me back, we can still get the take this afternoon.”

“Don’t you ever give up?” He was drying her with a soft terry towel. “The only place you’re going is back to your cottage to rest. Tomorrow you’ll probably be so stiff you won’t be able to move.”

“All the more reason to get the take today,” she insisted stubbornly as she watched him walk to the closet and slip a collarless long-sleeved black shirt from a hanger. “We both know that it was my carelessness that caused the accident and I won’t have anybody saying I held up production just to pamper a few bruises.”

He muttered something obscene as he returned to stand before her. He carefully put her arms into the sleeves of the shirt. “Look, will you just drop it?” He knelt before her, his hands at the buttons at the bottom of the shirt. “You’re shaking so much you can hardly sit up and you’re still trying to prove you’re some kind of superwoman.” He wasn’t looking at her, his gaze fixed with intentness on the buttons he was fastening. “You don’t have to be so blasted strong twenty-four hours out of every day.” His voice was oddly husky. “Let someone help you once in a while, for heaven’s sake. Let
me
help you, Kendra.”

Her gaze was fixed on the hands buttoning the black shirt and she saw to her amazement that she wasn’t the only one who was trembling. Joel’s long slender fingers were shaking so badly he barely managed to fasten the two bottom buttons. She noticed for the first time that he was sickly pale. “Joel,” she said hesitatingly, her eyes dark with concern. “What’s wrong? Are you ill?”

He drew a deep shuddering breath, still not looking at her. “You might say that. I feel pretty sick at the moment anyway.” He gave up the struggle with the buttons and rested his forehead against her breast, his eyes closed. “Oh Lord, do I ever feel sick.”