Neville brought Mary Ellen into the trailer, guided her to a wing chair and let her sit, then began rummaging in the refrigerator for what turned out to be two cans of soda. He handed one of them to her with a flourish. Mary Ellen let her gaze roam around the plush interior, feeling a presentiment that this sort of view would become greatly familiar to her in the future. The men who’d followed them inside were conferring in a buzz of excitable words, staring over at her.

“Congratulations,” Neville said, smiling, “you’ve clearly got the part.”

“They haven’t seen me do anything yet,” she protested. Everything was going too fast. But time slowed down abruptly when he walked over and perched on the arm of the chair next to hers. He reached out and stroked her hair, reminding her how tousled it had to be from the convertible.

“So, we’re both half-Native,” he mused, his eyes still intent on her face. “That’s the good half, the useful half. But our other half is suitable for this moment. Now.”

“Why?” she almost croaked, so dazzled was she from his scrutiny.

He waved his free hand rather abstractly. “Here. In this trailer. At this location. Making a movie. They’re all about appearances. And you, my dear, look exactly like a royal lady from a medieval fantasy world. Just right enough to make a wandering hero fall in love…”

Good heavens, he was going to kiss her! Mary Ellen’s eyes widened and then narrowed, wondering how this day could get any more remarkable. Except two of the men broke away from their conversation and headed straight for them.

“Come on, Neville, you’ll have time to spoon later on, we’ve got to get her into Makeup and Wardrobe, and do two sound checks, and then she needs a script, all that.”

“Okay, okay, but I’m going to trail along and make sure you don’t bully her too much. Hank is coming, too, right?” Neville looked over at the Hawaiian shirt guy, and Mary Ellen realized he was the bodyguard. An old friend of Neville’s maybe?

She led herself be led away, even as Neville whispered in her ear, telling her of the things they would do when she finished, of the celebration they would have later for finding each other…

“Wake up, Sleepyhead! You’ve got a customer in Full Service!”

Mary Ellen stirred and jerked upright, finding herself sprawled on the lawn chair. She wasn’t in Chinle anymore. Her brother leaned out of the station door, and a handsome car had pulled up to the Full Service pumps. With a groan, Mary Ellen heaved out of the chair and headed over to check out the vehicle. This one was a sleek white four-door Mercedes Benz E-Class. The driver had the windows down and he was grinning widely at her. He looked familiar.

“Do you remember me, Mary Ellen,” he asked, still smiling. His slightly longish black hair curled around his shirt collar, and he removed his sunglasses to reveal nice blue eyes. She peered at him, still foggy from her dream state, and gave a tentative smile in return.

“Aren’t you Johnny’s friend? The one from Durango?”

“That’s right! Pete Upshaw, I teach at Fort Lewis College.”

She grinned back now. He was her eldest brother’s friend, about his age. She’d met him in Durango when she’d gone to visit Johnny and his girlfriend. Pete’s father owned a gallery in town.

“Yep, it’s the old man’s car,” he said, popping out of the passenger seat and taking the pump from her hand to guide it to the fill. “I need to gas up since I’m heading to Chinle. Have you heard they’re shooting a film there?”

She nodded, her hands suddenly nerveless. “Are you going to audition?”

“Maybe,” he nodded. “I have the next two weeks free before school starts again. But I stopped in because your brother thought I should pick you up and your little brother and bring them down to try out. They need locals for some of the scenes they’re filming.”

“Oh.”

“Here, let me fill up, and then I’ll square it with Frank.”

For what seemed like the second time, Mary Ellen walked into the station and headed for the back room.

“Oh, yeah,” Frank called over to her. “I forgot all about him coming.”

Mary Ellen stalked into the back room and went over to a sink to splash water on her face, then she picked up her purse, took out a brush and combed her hair thoroughly. By the time she reached the counter, Pete was hauling up her six year-old brother, Caleb, and tickling him mercilessly. He nodded at Mary Ellen appreciatively and she went to the wall case and took out three cans of Pepsi.

“Call me when you get there,” Frank shouted after her as she followed the others to the car.

Pete, still carrying Caleb, dumped him in the back seat. He walked around to the passenger side and opened the door so Mary Ellen could slide in. Once he’d resumed his driver’s seat, he turned down the car radio that had been blasting the Moody Blues’ “I Know You’re Out There Somewhere,” yelled at Caleb to buckle up, and took the soda can Mary Ellen wordlessly offered him. After a good gulp, he replaced it in the cup holder and started up the car.

“I thought waiting around a film set might be a nice way to get to know each other,” he said. “Your brother said you’d be thrilled to get away because…”

“…nothing much happens ever in Many Farms,” she finished the sentence with him, and basked in the admiring look he gave her.