When I waved, Carlos scowled. He said something to one of the men, and then shifted to turn his back to me. The gaffer lifted the cable and pointed to the puddle, as the first electrician on the scene nodded.

“Well, you’ve done it now, Mace.’’ When Tilton was out of whisper range, Maddie started in. “Are you trying to convince Carlos you’re the town floozy?’’

“It was a friendly kiss.’’

“From Hollywood’s most notorious womanizer,’’ Marty said in a hushed tone.

“Not smart, girl.’’ Even my new best friend Jesse piled on.

I looked at Mama, who was tsk-tsking me. “When I told you it was good to keep your man guessing, I didn’t mean for you to rub his face in all your affairs.’’

I broke off a piece of a sugar cookie. The whole thing crumbled in my lap. “I’m not having any affairs, Mama. Tilton was just thanking me for agreeing to talk with him tomorrow. He said he wants help with his issues about women.’’

“Oh, please.’’ Jesse blew on her tea. “He wants something, but it’s definitely not help.’’

I turned to watch Tilton walking through base camp. He was smiling and whistling. He didn’t look emotionally troubled. Just as I was about to tell Jesse she might be right, I noticed Carlos watching me from the corner of his eye. Of course, he would catch me at the very moment I was staring after the movie star like a love-struck fan.

Marty said, “You should go talk to him.’’

“Yes, you should,’’ Jesse said. “But could you do it after he’s finished finding out if someone intentionally tried to murder me?’’

_____

“Carlos! Wait up.’’

He walked faster. I had to run after him to catch up. “Didn’t you hear me?’’

“I heard you.’’

Thunder rolled in the distance. It looked like another storm was headed our way. I gathered my breath from my sprint across the pasture.

“Well, why didn’t you stop?’’

“I don’t have time.’’ He still hadn’t broken stride.

“Right,’’ I said. “The investigation.’’

“No,’’ he said. “It’s not that. I’ve got at least an hour to wait before the Florida Department of Law Enforcement can get here to process the crime scene at Jesse’s trailer.’’

“Crime scene?’’

“The electrician showed me where somebody skinned the cable.’’

“The gaffer,’’ I said.

“What?’’

“Never mind. What about the cable?’’

“The rubber was nicked, leaving live wire exposed. It was intentional.’’

I digested that word—intentional. I’d been right, which in this case didn’t make me feel happy. Then the other thing Carlos said registered in my mind.

“What’d you mean before? You said you don’t have time. For what?”

He finally stopped. “For you.’’

“Excuse me?’’

We stood right outside a family cemetery, created by the movie company for the location shoot. The tombstones were made of polyurethane foam, grayed and weathered to appear old. An ancient live oak, real and weeping with Spanish moss, threw long shadows across the make-believe graves.

Carlos grabbed my arm, guiding me through an opening in a split rail fence newly built, but designed to look rustic. “Let’s duck in here for a minute. I owe you that much.’’

Those ominous words made the solid ground feel like a rolling ocean beneath my feet. I almost wished one of those fake graves would gape open and swallow me. At least then I wouldn’t have to hear what I knew Carlos was about to say. Placing his hands on my shoulders, he turned me so he could look me full in the face.

“I can’t do this anymore, Mace. I need to be with someone I can trust.’’

“You can trust me. You keep getting jealous for no reason.’’

He shook his head. “I’m not jealous, I’m exhausted. Will you, won’t you? Loves me, loves me not.’’

“You’re jumping to conclusions. What you just saw with Greg Tilton? I did him a favor, and he gave me a friendly kiss. There’s nothing—nothing—between us.’’

He picked a few strands of moss from one of the low-hanging branches; rolled them between his fingers. “But you see, I’m not sure. I’m never sure. Maybe it’s the cowboy. Or it might be the movie star. Or maybe it’s somebody else. I’m constantly wondering, who are you getting together with that I don’t see?’’

His dark eyes searched my face. “You put up walls, Mace. And I’m tired of trying to knock them down.’’

Tears stung the back of my eyes. I tried to swallow. I couldn’t speak. It seemed my heart was filling up my throat.

“I want a woman who loves me completely.’’

I found my voice. “Like your late wife? I can’t replace her.’’

“I never expected you to. She was my whole life, and I was hers. I do want someone, though, that I am certain is mine.’’

I took a deep breath. “See, that scares me when you say that, Carlos. You make it sound like I’m something you want to possess. I don’t want to feel trapped.’’

“Trapped? So you think of me as your jailer?’’

I reached out to touch his cheek. He backed away from my hand. “Do you?’’ he asked.

I toed the dirt around one of the gravestones. A small one, it said Baby James Burroughs, Asleep with Jesus.

“I don’t feel trapped by you. I feel trapped with you,’’ I said. “Suppose I do commit myself one-hundred percent to you. You do the same with me. Then, suppose it doesn’t work out? That’s what I’m scared of.’’

He cocked his head. “So, is this the part where I’m supposed to reassure you? The part where I say, ‘Don’t worry, Mace. Nothing will ever happen. We’ll be together forever.’ ’’

I didn’t trust myself to speak. So I studied the graves. The stone next to Baby James belonged to his older sister. For the movie, the children died on the same day: January 6, 1893.

I watched a black swallowtail butterfly, mired in a muddy puddle left by the earlier storm. The creature was dying, its wings fluttering ever more slowly.

Finally, he answered his own question. “I can’t give you that reassurance, Mace. I know better than most that nothing is forever. Someone murdered my wife, and took her away from me. Your father died, and left you. Your mother has been married five times. Each time, she probably thought it would be forever. Nobody can make that guarantee. And frankly, I’m tired of dancing around the fact that you expect me to.’’

He looked up to the darkening sky. Black, heavy storm clouds were massing overhead. Lightning streaked across the edge of the fattest cloud.

“We’d better get in before that storm breaks loose,’’ I said.

He gave me a sad smile. “Ah, yes. The weather. Always a safe topic when you don’t know what to say.’’

“We should go,’’ I said. “The rain is really going to come down.’’

“Is that it, then?’’ he asked. “Are we broken up?’’

I pressed my lips together. What did he want to hear? Did he want me to beg him not to break up? I wouldn’t do it. Wasn’t he the one who said I wasn’t worth the trouble? There was no getting around that simple fact.

The silence stretched between us until the first fat raindrop splattered on one of the tombstones. At Peace, the inscription on the marker said.

As the skies opened, and we lit out for shelter, I knew that peace was easier said than found.

The music throbbed. The sound of cowboy boots pounding the wooden floor in time to the Charlie Daniels Band hurt my head. I took another long swallow from the Budweiser in front of me. The Eight Seconds Bar was offering a bucket of beer, five bottles for five bucks. I was getting my money’s worth.

Toby Wyle was on the dance floor, surrounded by a bevy of young beauties. I recognized the rodeo queen, and a runner-up for the Swamp Cabbage Festival’s royal court. His lips were locked with the princess from the Speckled Perch Festival, who was the prettiest and the blondest of the bunch.