Loving (10 page)

One more time his response was almost instant.
I love you too, baby
.

The conversation needed to end. She couldn’t let herself fall
deeper in love with Brandon when she couldn’t imagine a way for them to be together. Bailey turned her phone off, got back into bed, and flipped the light switch. Brandon was fighting for her even now. Like maybe he would always fight for her. She closed her eyes and imagined living in Camarillo or San Luis Obispo. That was possible, right? Maybe she needed to give the possibility more thought. She tried to fall asleep, tried to remember every promise from Scripture. But the one that repeated itself over and over and over in her mind was the one that gave her just the slightest permission to hold onto Brandon and his love for her.

With God all things were possible.

T
HE GIRLISH SCREAM ECHOED ACROSS THE PRAIRIE AND MADE
Brandon’s hair stand up on the back of his neck. He grabbed the reins of the muscled paint horse and swung himself easily into the saddle. He pressed his heels into the sides of the animal and moved with him into a tense gallop. Forty acres ahead of him on the open plain was a low-slung house made of worn wood slats, a small one-bedroom dwelling where the scream came from.

“Molly!” He shouted the name of his character’s sister. “I’m coming. Hold on!” He pressed his heels against the paint again. “Giddyup!”

The horse responded and in a rush of dust and pounding hooves, he brought the animal to a stop and hurdled himself off into a dead run. “Molly!” As soon as he was through the door he heard the director’s voice, but only barely above the sound of his pounding heart.

“Cut! We got it. Check the gate.” The director let loose an old-fashioned cowboy whoop. “Amazing work, Brandon. Everyone break for lunch.”

Brandon dusted off his jeans and adjusted his white T-shirt. He’d been lifting weights for weeks leading up to this part and now he had heard from everyone on the team that he absolutely looked the part of Colt Granger. The movie was based on the true story of the high school senior whose parents were killed by robbers. Colt and his sisters were left to fend for themselves on a 500-acre ranch, even as the bad guys circled back around to kill
them too. The movie was called
Eyewitness
. It was a fairly clean suspense picture, bound to be hugely popular with teens and college kids across America when it came out some time next year.

The movie wasn’t the biggest budget film Brandon had ever been a part of, but his studio had pushed for him to take the role. Especially while they waited for the revised contract and the big announcement that Brandon would belong to West Mark Studio soon.
Eyewitness
would have very visible publicity, because of the true story angle, so his manager and agent figured it was one way to keep West Mark anxious to sign him.

Brandon walked back out to the horse and stroked his neck. Later on in the shoot, the real-life Colt would join them. Brandon was anxious to meet him. The way the kid had set a trap for the bad guys and saved the lives of his three sisters — even while his parents’ dead bodies lay out back — was something the whole country was fascinated by. The real Colt had agreed to do interviews with Brandon when the movie released.

“Nice work.” Molly Anderson came up alongside him and patted Brandon’s horse. She was a pretty nineteen-year-old blonde who had made it clear from the first day on their Montana shoot two weeks ago that she was interested in him. She was playing Molly Granger, the oldest of Colt’s sisters. Anyone who would listen had heard her explain how she was born for the part — what with her real name being Molly, same as the real-life girl.

Molly leaned close and breathed in. “Mmmm … I thought hard work and sweat was supposed to smell dirty.” She laughed, teasing him. Trying to win him over. “You smell like every wonderful smell all wrapped in one.”

“Wow.” Brandon smiled and took a discreet step back. “Thanks, I guess.” He paused. The girl was nice enough, and she was a talented actress. He just didn’t want to mislead her in anyway. “And that scream … very nice.”

“If that’s what it takes to get you running my direction.” She
grinned at him and then seemed to notice his tanned arms again. She took hold of his bicep and squeezed it. “Are you kidding me? The girls are gonna go crazy over this new look, Brandon Paul.”

He gently took her hand and removed it from his arm. “Only one girl matters.”

“Come on.” Molly put her hands on her hips and pretended to pout. “Bailey Flanigan’s been gone for a month. At least according to the rags.” She tossed her shoulder-length hair and took a few steps back. “She’s not the only nice girl around, Brandon.”

“She’s the only one I want.” He was finished with the conversation. A quick wave in her direction and he headed for the food truck.

Being on set in Montana had been the strangest experience. Most of the grips and techs were local, more easy going than crews in New York or Los Angeles. Almost like the cast and crew was more of a team, like they could work together and no one really stood out as the star.

All of which gave Brandon more time than ever to think about Bailey. Especially because they had only sketchy cell service on location. He’d only been able to text her a handful of times, and they hadn’t talked once since he left for Montana. If that didn’t make him miss her enough, there was the rest of the story line in the movie. Part of the plot was Colt’s discovery that his parents’ love had been extraordinary. A rare and passionate sort of love that most people only dream about, the kind where one heart doesn’t feel complete without the other. In the movie, Colt learned this during periods of hiding with his sisters, when he stumbled onto a box of letters his parents had written to each other.

But every time they ran a scene dealing with Colt’s parents’ love, Brandon could only think of one thing: he and Bailey had that same kind of love. A love people would wait their whole lives for. A love they would die for. His heart was so full with missing
her and the love story his character was discovering that Brandon had started writing to Bailey, but not in letters or emails or in mentions on Twitter. He’d brought a journal because he liked having a way to log his thoughts on set without using a laptop. Already he’d filled a fourth of the book with his thoughts and feelings, with memories and funny anecdotes and dreams he would share with Bailey if she were here.

He decided to put off getting a barbecue beef sandwich from the food truck. First he wanted to meet the special guests who’d been invited on set today. He headed toward a small crowd gathered at the far end of the seating area. A few teenagers had been welcomed onto the set, kids who had been chosen because of their efforts helping others. Brandon walked up to one of the older teenage guys and held out his hand. “Hey, man, I’m Brandon.”

“Hi.” The kid was maybe seventeen, tall with a smile that lit up the plains. “I’m Brad Wright.”

“Glad you could make it out. Tell me about your service project.”

Brad proceeded to explain that a friend of his on the basketball team had suffered a severe brain injury in a car accident. “They needed a special van and their house needed to be handicap accessible.”

Brandon was deeply touched as Brad shared how he spearheaded a fund-raising effort that brought in enough money to make life in his friend’s house possible. His efforts had been noticed by the local news station and soon the production team for Brandon’s movie took note and invited him to the movie set.

Brad was the kind of kid who could’ve easily ignored such a need. Athletic and intelligent, probably a star on his school’s basketball team. But in this season of his life he was entirely focused on helping others.

After a great chat with Brad, Brandon shook the kid’s hand and moved on to a teenage girl who looked to be fourteen or fifteen.
Brandon introduced himself and she blushed, more nervous than Brad had been. “I’m Jade Gilbert. I love your movies.”

“Okay, Jade … tell me about yourself.”

Jade relaxed a little and told him how she loved singing and playing the flute and ballet dancing and karate. Her laughter rang sweet and pure through the spring air. “In my spare time I run marathons with my dad.”

“You’re a busy girl.” Brandon liked her spunk, her love for life. She was probably a lot like Bailey must’ve been at her age.

She explained that she’d raised $1,000 for the pediatric oncology unit near her town. “I have so much.” Jade’s eyes shone brighter than the sun. “It’s the least I can do to help others.”

Brandon was touched deeply as another five teenagers shared how they had done something extraordinary for their community or peers. Several times Brandon blinked back tears, struck by one very clear thought: He hadn’t looked for anything like this in Los Angeles. But he made a note to look into it. Certainly there were ways he could help others with his resources, more ways than acting that God could use him in his community.

He walked to the food truck, grabbed a sandwich, and headed for his trailer. The air was cool, so he slid his chair to a sunny spot near the door. From his bag, he pulled out his journal and a pen.

Brandon started at the top of the first blank page. He breathed in deeply before touching his pen to the paper, and he stared out at the wide-open spaces, the forever endless blue sky. Nothing in all his life had made him feel the way Montana made him feel. The few times he’d been to the store, people left him alone — if they noticed he was an actor at all. Like their lives were about only what was simple and strong — love and laughter, running a ranch, and raising a family. As if Hollywood didn’t exist.

His eyes found the place at the top of the page and he began.

Dear Bailey, I sit here looking out over the Montana plains and a sky only God could’ve hung across it, and I dream. I’m always
dreaming out here. I keep thinking, what if I gave it all up and we moved here? We could buy a ranch and raise paint horses or open a shop on Main Street — which is pretty much the only street, by the way
.

Have I mentioned that I hate how we haven’t talked? It’s the last Friday in April, and I can’t call you or text you. Too much time, Bailey. Far too much. There’s no service out here, so I tell myself that you’re trying to reach me. You just can’t get through. But the truth is something different, right? You’re still convinced we can’t make it work. I know the paparazzi scares you, and I understand. Really, I do. But I think it was something more that made you run. Like maybe it hit you just how serious things were. For me, ever since the seaweed ring, all I can think about is one very important question — even though I rarely share that with you
.

Wanna know a secret? I wanted to propose to you on Christmas Eve … you know that. But I planned to ask you again on Valentine’s Day. I didn’t do it, because Dayne Matthews told me to wait. He said you needed time to adjust to LA before considering something so forever. And now here we are all but broken up. Makes me wonder what if I’d ignored his advice and asked you anyway, the way I almost did on the beach that night
.

Ahh, Bailey, I miss you. I feel like half my heart’s in Bloomington, and I know — I absolutely know — that you feel the same way about me. Right? What I’d give to know if I was right. Like you can’t imagine going your whole life with so much missing. Anyway, Bailey, you’re all I think about. God didn’t use you to save my life and bring me to Him only to take you away. I believe that. And I’ll fight for you as long as I’m breathing
.

One day … one day I’ll give you this journal so you can see how much I care, how it wasn’t only some romantic fling, what we shared. Wait, I have a better idea. I’ll give you this journal on our wedding day. That’s how strongly I feel that God will show us a way
to be together. Until then, you have my heart. And I have yours. No matter what you say. Praying for you. Praying for us. Brandon
.

He closed the journal and stared out at the horizon again. Lunch was almost over, and his toughest scenes so far were coming up, scenes where he had to fight off the bad guys to keep them from getting to the girls. Brandon slipped a pair of sunglasses on and wondered if Bailey’s afternoon was this sunny.
Father, wherever she is, please let her think about me. If she’s running, please don’t let her get too far. I trust You, Lord. In Jesus’ name, amen
.

Once the journal was safe in his bag again, he stood and walked up the steps to his trailer. Forty push-ups and thirty curls with the weight bar later, he was ready for the next round of scenes. There was only one way he would pull off the intensity and courage of the real-life Colt Granger when it came to protecting the girls this afternoon in front of the cameras.

He would pretend he was protecting Bailey.

L
IKE MOST THEATER COMPANIES,
CKT sometimes rehearsed scenes out of order. So it was on that Friday, still weeks before the run of the show, that Bailey and the rest of the artistic team were helping the kids catch the vision for the final scene of
Peter Pan
. The scene where Wendy is grown up and Peter returns for a brief moment.

The kids were about to go on break when one of the kids playing a Lost Boy raised his hand. “How come Wendy can’t stay in Neverland? That’s where Peter is.”

Bailey felt her heart react to the question. She looked at Ashley Baxter Blake, an old friend who was assisting her with this show, and then back at the little boy. “She had to return to the nursery so she could grow up, so she could find out what plans God had for her life.”

“But she loved Peter.” The child looked around as if hoping
for some support from the rest of the cast. A few kids nodded, indignant at the way the story turned out. “She shoulda stayed with him. Even if it meant never growing up.”

“Yeah, plus isn’t that a good thing, Miss Bailey? Staying young?” The girl playing Tinker Bell stood and stuck her chin out. “Seems wrong that she would just leave Peter. Kind of selfish if you ask me.”

Bailey gave a subtle nod to Ashley, and the young mom took over. “Actually … growing up is a good thing.” She smiled at them. “You have time to find out what you’re supposed to do and be, time to maybe fall in love and have a family one day. Wendy might’ve wanted that sort of life. A more normal life.” She cast a quick look back at Bailey. Ashley knew about Bailey’s choice to leave LA, and how badly she missed Brandon. Clearly she was using the moment to validate Bailey’s decision.

But the kids would hear nothing of it.

“She was already in love with Peter!” It was the Lost Boy again. “I think when you love someone you should never, ever leave. Even if it means not growing up.”

Brandon’s face filled Bailey’s mind, her heart.
When you love someone, you should never, ever leave
. His words spurred a debate between the kids, and after a few minutes Bailey stood and gave the classic CKT whistle, the sound they automatically knew to repeat and then quiet themselves down. “I think we would all spend a little more time in Neverland if we had the chance.” She held up her clipboard and smiled at them. “Okay, let’s have everyone take their places.”