“Is there anywhere else you think I should look for a stash like this?” He waved at the remaining bottles.
“You could ask me,” Silas said from the doorway. Both Zack and Jenny jumped, startled by his appearance.
“All right,” Zack agreed quickly, deciding to face his father head-on in everything now. “Is there anyplace else you’d like me to clean out?” He tried to ignore the fact that his father was leaning on a cane and looking pale. His physician had warned them not to expect too much too soon, but it was hard seeing his father like this.
Silas entered the room and straightened up to his full six-foot height. “You don’t have to clean anything out. I haven’t had a drop of liquor for a year. I keep that assortment for my friends, or for cocktail parties, like the one I had to introduce Clay Sullivan to some possible clients. It was the same night we all watched your new movie.”
That derailed Zack’s thoughts. “You got a pirated copy?”
“I did. I didn’t want to wait for the premiere.”
Sometimes Zack forgot how well his father was connected. “You never told me you watched it.”
“Does it matter?”
Good question—and he really wasn’t sure of the answer. Did he want to know what his father thought about it? Chances were good Silas would have something critical to say. Not that Zack couldn’t take criticism. He’d had to take plenty of it to get where he was now. But coming from his father, it would be nice to hear something positive, some sort of encouragement or pat on the back he’d never gotten as a kid.
Silas stroked his mustache. “If you’re looking for cigars in addition to the liquor, you’ll find a box in my bottom desk drawer in my office. They’re underneath the Bible. I haven’t had a smoke in the past six months.”
As Zack looked into his father’s eyes, he wished he could believe him. But after years of hearing his dad lie to his mother so many times, he knew trust hadn’t even been a word in his father’s vocabulary.
Deciding to leave this discussion for the present, Zack asked his dad, “Is there anything I can bring you from upstairs to make you more comfortable down here?”
“I’ll only be comfortable when I’m in my own room again,” Silas grumbled.
Jenny, who’d been absorbing the conversation, stepped in. “It’s only for a few days, Silas. Besides, you’ll have a great view of the back pasture from the guest room. You can watch the yearlings when we let them out on the nice days.”
“Nice days?” Silas barked. “You won’t be seeing many more of them. I heard we’re in for snow next week.”
“So you can watch them frolic in the snow when I exercise them,” she responded, unfazed.
“While I eat sawdust and vegetables.”
“Do you think I’d let Martha serve you sawdust and vegetables? I’m smarter than that. We’re going to make such tasty recipes you won’t be able to resist.”
Finally, Silas broke into a slow smile. “If anybody can do it, you can.” He sighed and ran a hand through his halo of gray hair. “Already I’m more tired than if I’d ridden out to Feather Peak. Jeez, how long is this going to last?”
“You know what the doctor said. It could be a while—a month, two, maybe even three. But with a new diet and some exercise when you’re ready, you’ll be feeling better soon, Silas. I promise you.”
He looked at her the way a doting father looks at a loving daughter. “Your promises I believe.”
With a last glance at Zack, he said, “I’ll make that list.”
After Silas had gone, his cane tapping on the hardwood floor down the hall, Zack turned to Jenny, feeling somewhat unnerved by witnessing the bond that had developed between her and his dad. Was he envious of it? Yet how could he be when it had been his choice to put his dad in the recesses of his life for so many years?
“What if he doesn’t feel better in three months?” he challenged her. “What if the way he’s feeling now is as good as it gets? That happens, you know.”
“Maybe so. But I can’t think that way and Silas doesn’t need you thinking that way. We have to encourage him, day by day.” She studied Zack for so long it made him uncomfortable.
“What?”
“I don’t think you’re used to encouraging anyone, are you?”
“That’s not true. I deal with temperamental actors all the time.”
“That isn’t the same thing at all. I’m talking about common kindness, compassion and an optimistic attitude to make someone want to get better, want to do their best in life, not in a make-believe world.”
“Do you think I deal with make-believe? Have you even watched any of my movies?”
That made Jenny’s cheeks flush. “Of course I have. I’m sorry. That didn’t come out right. I know you don’t just produce and direct entertainment. There’s always more than that to it, a bigger cause, an issue under the surface.”
So she’d realized that about him, had she? He didn’t know whether he’d expected her to be perceptive about his motives or not. “That’s one reason why I’m moving into documentaries. I don’t want to hide the cause anymore. I want to go after it. I have the clout and the money to do that now. I can film the stories I want to film.”
“Did you ever think about what you’d be doing if you hadn’t won that award in high school? Where you’d be now?”
He couldn’t tell if she was really asking about them or his life in general. Anytime they got near the personal, the vibrations between them picked up, the attraction he still felt for her ignited. “I still would have found a way to get to L.A. with or without my dad’s approval, with or without his money. You know that. It was that important for me to get away from here and find a life of my own.”
“And what if your career hadn’t worked out so well? What if success hadn’t come easy?”
“Easy? Is that really what you think?”
Moving around the bar, she helped him pull bottles from the cupboard. “It seemed like it. You went to film school, then you were directing your first movie which was a hit. Then you directed another and then another.”
When Zack reached into the cupboard, his shoulder grazed hers and a jolt of awareness hit him in the gut. He leaned away before she could see how that minor contact rocked him.
Clearing his throat, he said, “It did seem like that from the outside, didn’t it? That first film was a technical success, but not an industry success. For a year I worked in the stables outside of Anaheim to make money to keep a one-room apartment. I was still sending out résumés, reading scripts, thinking about what to do to make a career work. I directed a rock video that caught notice and put me in touch with the right people. One of them hired me as an assistant director. After that, I worked day and night, took any project I thought would get some notice until finally, I got my chance. A director backed out and I was in. That movie was an industry success. That movie won me my first Oscar.”
“I never knew you had to work so hard. Did Silas know?”
“Are you kidding? When I left, he told me he knew I’d come running back with my tail between my legs. There was no way in hell I wasn’t going to make my life out there work.”
And he’d been willing to make the two of them work, too. If only Jenny had come with him. If only she had tried, maybe then he wouldn’t still feel resentment and bitterness along with an attraction that wouldn’t fade. The sooner he was back in L.A. again, the better. But he’d made his father a promise, to stay here long enough so Jenny wouldn’t have the burden of running the Rocky D all on her own. He regretted that promise now. Looking into Jenny’s soft brown eyes, feeling his body respond to her, he knew his stay was going to be nothing but torture—on many fronts.
“What’s wrong?” she asked softly. “You look … angry.”
“You don’t want to know.”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Did you ever imagine what your life might have been like if you had come with me?”
She looked surprised, as if she’d never expected that question to pop up. “I … I never wanted that kind of life.”
“How did you know when you hadn’t tried it?” Then he lifted his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Never mind. I shouldn’t have asked. During those couple of tough years, you wouldn’t have stuck by me. I know what you went through with your dad. You would have thought it was just more of the same.”
She looked as if he’d slapped her. There was real hurt in her eyes. He’d never meant to cause that. Or had he? Did he want her to feel the same pain he’d felt when she said she couldn’t go with him? This was so ridiculous, revisiting history that couldn’t be rewritten.
He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. We made the decisions we did.”