“Lacey, right?” he asked.
“That’s right,” I said, my eyes darting from Trent to Alfred.
“Doesn’t look like you’re doing much right now,” Trent observed.
“I’m waiting for the food vans,” I explained.
Alfred brandished the script like a weapon. “Can I ask a big favor? I need to get this to Jared’s trailer – it’s got some new lines. But I don’t have a runner. Think you’re up for the job?”
I swallowed hard. “I…where is it?”
“Jared, Christina, Kaitlin, and Samantha are set up on the other side of the river. It’s not that far.” He pointed at a rack with a half dozen beach cruiser bicycles. “You can take one of the bikes. Maybe three minutes each way? I’ll tell Melinda you’re running an errand for me if she shows up.”
My mind worked furiously, trying to figure out a gracious way to refuse, but it betrayed me. I must have looked like a dimwit, because Trent exhaled loudly through pursed lips. “I would take it myself if I didn’t have other things I need to do. This weather’s making everyone nervous. If it starts to rain, we’re shut down for the night…and that gets expensive fast.”
Alfred thrust the script at me. “Follow the trail there down to the river, cross the bridge, and you’ll see the trailers about fifty yards away. His is the last one on the left. Their names are on the doors. Can’t miss it.”
Alfred turned, the matter decided. I stared at the script like it was a poisonous snake, and then trudged to the bikes and selected one, resigned to being snubbed by Jared yet again. Assuming he even remembers me.
It had been six years since I’d ridden a bicycle, and I wobbled a bit as I pedaled down the trail. The lights of the set grew dimmer as I neared the river. I spotted the footbridge in the gloom – an antique wooden affair that predated cars. The water beneath burbled softly. I squinted as I coasted toward it, and then I was on the rough planks before I was ready, moving faster than I’d intended due to the grade. I struggled to control the bike with one hand while clutching the script in the other. Whatever you do, don’t drop the script in the river!
And then the front tire hit a long gap between two slats of wood, and the bike pitched forward. The back wheel lifted as it flipped, and I flew through the air, over the wooden rail that ran along each side of the bridge, and down toward the inky river rushing below. The last thing I registered was hitting the surface hard, and then I was sinking, stunned, the wind knocked out of me, the pull of the current dragging me under as icy water closed over my head.
Chapter 11
I sputtered and coughed, my throat constricted, and blinked away tears. I gasped for air, and my lungs filled, causing another coughing bout as my body battled to clear the water from my lungs. Light flooded my field of vision, and I realized someone was carrying me. I looked up, my eyesight hazy from river water, and made out the inside of a small room. Two wall lamps blazed near the door.
Strong arms laid me on a couch, and I coughed some more, shivering from the cold. My teeth chattered and I tried to sit up, and then a blanket settled over my shoulders and enfolded me in its warmth.
“You going to make it?” a familiar voice asked.
My stomach tightened. I forced my eyes open again and twisted my head to where Jared was sitting close by, holding the blanket against my torso. He was also sopping wet, but even so looked ten kinds of amazing. A thrill ran through me at his proximity, and my heart rate rocketed.
I tried to answer but only managed another racking cough. His forehead creased and he edged closer. When I finally caught a breath, I tried again.
“I…I think so.”
Jared studied my face, worry obvious in his gaze, and I shivered from the cold. Or something. He stood, moving with the effortless grace I’d seen onstage, and crossed the small room to a doorway. He disappeared inside and returned holding two fluffy white towels. Using one to dry his face, he handed me the other.
That was when I realized that my hair, normally carefully positioned to hide my birthmark, was hanging in wet strings. I took the towel from Jared and did my best to hold it against my left shoulder and blot myself to relative dryness, hoping he hadn’t seen anything.
“What happened?” I managed.
“I heard you hit the water, so I pulled you out. You’re lucky you didn’t break your neck.”
Another cough as my throat tightened. “What were you doing by the river?”
“I like to rehearse my lines there.” He tossed his towel onto a chair and fingered his wet shirt. Even drenched, he looked like he’d stepped from the pages of a fashion magazine. I, on the other hand…
As though he’d read my mind, he retraced his steps to the bathroom and came back brushing his hair. He set the brush next to me with a tight smile and then crossed the room to a small two-way radio on the counter and spoke into it. I brushed my limp hair into some semblance of normalcy and shivered beneath the blanket again.
He finished with the radio and glanced at me. “Can you move everything? Hands? Feet? Neck? Does anything feel broken? Ribs?”
I probed my ribs, and while they felt a little sore, perhaps bruised, there were no stabs of pain. I flexed my hands and feet and then stared down at the puddle of water on the linoleum floor. “Sorry,” I apologized, my embarrassment making breathing difficult.
“No problem, Lacey,” he said.
My pulse quickened. “You remember my name?” I stammered.
His smile lit the room. “You’re wearing a name
