Saddle Up(7)

Miranda shuddered at the thought. Lexi’s cooking skills were atrocious, even in the best of circumstances. The girl burned holes in boiled eggs.

“The only highlight was meeting this smoking-hot camera guy named Kent,” Lexi said.

“Oh yeah? Did he cook?” Miranda asked.

“No.” Lexi grinned. “But food was last on our minds.”

“Oh.” Miranda flushed.

“How was your week?” Lexi asked.

“I filmed a hemorrhoid commercial,” Miranda replied dryly, dismayed that it was her greatest claim to fame since graduating film school.

“We all have to pay our dues,” Lexi replied.

“I know.” Miranda sighed. “But I came to L.A. to make films. I just wish Bibi would give me a chance.”

“What about that horse-whisperer gig you did?” Lexi asked.

“You mean the one she took all the credit for?” The innovative camera work Miranda contributed to the short production had even garnered an award.

“I never dreamed I’d still be waiting tables after all this time, either, but the fact is, most of us never do get a break. If you could only bring yourself to compromise your ideals a little, maybe you could get more freelance work.”

“But I hate all the commercial crap.”

“Randa, honey, until we make it big, my tips and your commercial crap pays our bills.”

“I know you’re right,” Miranda replied. “I just want a tiny bit of creative freedom. Maybe I should make a documentary. They don’t cost much to produce. I’d just need to find the right subject.”

Lexi chewed her lip pensively. “You know, if that’s what you’re looking for, I just might have a lead for you.”

“A lead? What do you mean?” Miranda asked.

“I was hanging out with Kent on his break when this guy from the Bureau of Land Management pulls up, asking about hiring a cameraman for a wild-horse roundup a few miles north in the Calico Mountains.”

“Wild horses?” Miranda instantly perked up. “Are you for real?”

“Sure am, but don’t get too excited. It seems the company they contract with to gather the horses is involved in a court battle with animal rights activists. Long story short, the activists got a court mandate to video the roundup. Kent asked a few questions about the job, but then turned the guy down with a laugh when he heard the pay he was offering.”

“How much?” Miranda asked, her interest piqued. The location alone would be a cinematographer’s dream.

“The guy said he needed a camera for two days but offered only five hundred bucks for the entire job. Nonnegotiable. Said it’s some government deal. Kent countered that he needed two hundred an hour plus expenses. If you’re willing to work cheap, they might still be looking. He said there’s a hold on the roundup until they’ve hired someone.”

“Are you kidding me?” Miranda squealed. “I’m all over this. Please tell me you have a contact number for this guy.”

“I don’t,” Lexi replied. “But I can call Kent and see if he got the name and number.”

“Can you call now?” Miranda almost pleaded. “I’ll owe you forever for this, Lexi. I’m giddy just thinking about the possibilities.”

“Do you know anything about wild horses?” Lexi asked.

“Well…no. Not really,” Miranda admitted. “But I do know a bit about domestic ones. My grandparents raised cattle in Montana. I used to spend all my summers with them. They are actually how I got interested in filmmaking. It was my grandpa who bought me my first camera. He and my Grandma, Jo-Jo, are the only people who ever encouraged my dream of filmmaking. I really want to do this job, Lex. I owe it to them as much as to myself. This is finally something worthwhile, and what’s it really going to cost me but my time?”

“How about your job?” Lexi shot back. “What are you going to do about work? Call in sick?”

Miranda’s stomach knotted—she hadn’t even thought about that part. “I’d rather just ask for some personal time off.”

“Without notice, Bibi might very well say no,” Lexi countered.

“Then I’ll have to take my chances. I may never get another opportunity like this.”

“Think carefully, sweets. Bibi Newman has a ton of clout in this town. Cross her, and you might never find work again.”

Miranda jutted her chin. “I don’t care, Lex. Making films is what I came out here to do, and I’m damned well going to do it…or die trying.” She just hoped it wouldn’t be dying of dehydration in the middle of the Black Rock Desert.

*

Calico Mountains, Northwestern Nevada

Driving out to Nevada a few days ahead of the crew, Keith sought out the local ranchers and inquired after the location of the horses and the water sources. After making camp on the Donnelly Flat, he set out on horseback to scale Donnelly Peak and get a better lay of the land.

Cresting the barren butte, he scanned the equally desolate horizon, devoid of all vegetation but clusters of cactus and scattered thickets of sage. It had been years since he’d spent any time alone in the desert. He’d once loved it, but now the landscape felt as arid and bleak as his own soul.

Tonya had been right when she’d said he’d been “performing” for so long that he’d lost himself. If he was ever going to get his life back together, he needed to leave the rez. She was also right that his only true option was to try to salvage what little remained of his tattered reputation. At least there were people who knew him from before. Maybe Mitch and Beth West didn’t approve of how he’d used his talents, but they still trusted his skills and judgment.