N. Walters: Mark of the Bear

She’d consoled herself with the fact they were small pictures. The larger ones were of the movie exec’s daughter who’d come after her, Jon’s current wife and the actress he was reportedly currently sleeping with. The cheating bastard.

She shoved all those negative thoughts aside. The day was too beautiful to let thoughts of her ex ruin it. She was on her way to a movie set and she had the leading role. The paparazzi hadn’t found her either. Life was good.

Now she was closing in on her destination. She ran her finger over the map Maury had highlighted for her. He’d given her written directions as well as the movie script. She couldn’t wait to read it. Maury had assured her it was a great role and that was good enough for her. She couldn’t afford to be picky and turn down work.

The only thing she wouldn’t do for a role was get naked. She’d worn her share of skimpy clothing, bathing suits and even strategically placed bedclothes, but she’d never been naked. Not even in a shower scene. She’d worn bikini bottoms and skin-tone patches to cover her nipples. For some reason it was a line she couldn’t cross.

It had limited the amount of work she’d gotten. With her figure, she would have gotten a lot more roles if she’d been willing to lose all her clothing.

She shrugged and concentrated on her map. She was happy with what she’d done and that was all that mattered. “That’s all fine and good.” She glanced out the window and back to the map. “But if you don’t find where the movie set is located you won’t be working at all.”

Someone involved with this movie had some pull. They had the permits to shoot on the edge of a national park. The backdrop for the film was going to be spectacular. Tossing the map onto the passenger seat, she checked for traffic before pulling back onto the road. A sign on the roadside informed her there was a small diner two miles down the road. Kellsie immediately decided to stop and go to the restroom before getting something else to eat and asking for directions.

The building came into view a few minutes later. It was small, but well kept. Made of logs, it blended with the surrounding forest. Perfect for a movie. As she pulled into the parking lot, she could picture the exterior scene. The rugged west at its best with a touch of Native American thrown in.

Kellsie got out of the car and grabbed her purse. She locked her doors and pocketed her keys. This might be an isolated spot, and hers might be the only car in the lot, but she’d lived in the city too long not to take precautions and lock up behind her.

Dreamcatchers fluttered in the breeze as they hung on a display just outside the main door. They were lovely and immediately caught her eye. She took a closer look and realized they were made from bent branches and rawhide, not metal hoops and synthetic string. These were the real deal. She fingered one long feather that hung from the bottom of one of the larger hoops.

“An eagle feather,” someone said from behind her.

She immediately pulled her hand back, feeling like a kid who’d touched something she shouldn’t have. Too many times in her life she’d felt that way—as if she was always on the outside looking in. Immediately, the thought made her angry as the old insecurities surged forward. She’d worked long and hard to rid herself of those feelings, but they still popped up on occasion. She reminded herself that she had money she’d earned all on her own. She could touch and buy whatever she wanted.

Kellsie turned to face the owner of the low, male voice and was immediately struck by his face. He had a strong jaw and straight nose with heavy lines on the forehead and crow’s feet around the eyes. He could be anywhere from sixty to ninety. It was difficult to tell. There was an ageless quality about him.

His skin was bronze, proclaiming his Native American heritage. His hair was long, flowing almost to his waist. Most of it was still black, but it was streaked with gray. It was held away from his face by a leather headband trimmed with intricate beadwork. He wore jeans and an embroidered shirt. Her first thought was that he could make a fortune as an actor. Her second one was that she was staring rudely at him and had been for some time.

“I’m sorry.” She motioned to the dreamcatcher. Although why she was apologizing was beyond her. The stuff was here to be bought. She couldn’t be the only person who’d touched it. “It’s very beautiful.”

The elderly man shook his head. “The eagle is a strong messenger, but not for you.”

Now she was getting annoyed. All she wanted was to use the bathroom, get directions and a few road snacks. “Fine. Good to know.” She spun on her heel and headed to the door, letting it slam shut behind her as she entered the cooler confines of the diner. It probably wasn’t even a real eagle’s feather anyway. There were most likely restrictions about such things.

She blinked, letting her eyes adjust to the dim light. It wasn’t strictly a diner, she quickly realized, but two separate rooms. There was a shop on one side and a small café on the other. A young dark-haired woman sat behind the counter perusing a magazine. “Hot one today.”

Kellsie smiled and nodded her head. “Sure is. Do you have a restroom I can use?”

The woman nodded and pointed. “Through the café, right down at the end on your left.”

“Thanks.” Leaving all thoughts of the old man behind, she hurried to the restroom. It was small but thankfully clean.

Kellsie yanked off her hat and removed her sunglasses. She looked tired. The dark circles under her eyes weren’t helping matters. Even though she’d managed a good night’s sleep last night, the lack of sleep this past week was beginning to catch up with her. There was no way she could show up on a movie set looking this bad. She wasn’t vain, but she wasn’t stupid either. No director wanted to see his lead looking like something the cat had dragged in.

Dropping her bag onto the tiled countertop, she dug out her brush and fixed her hair as best she could. Then she pulled out her makeup bag and found her mascara, concealer, eye shadow, powder and an assortment of brushes. Over the years, she’d learned a lot of tricks from the makeup artists she’d worked with on movie sets. In five minutes flat, her eyes looked brighter and the dark circles were gone, hidden under the female version of war paint.

Satisfied, she popped her hat back on her head, pulling her ponytail through the back opening and slipped her sunglasses back on. She threw all her stuff back into her bag and headed for the toilet. Once she was done, she washed her hands and reached for the door handle. Five minutes to pick up some food and get directions and she’d be on her way again.

She hesitated just outside the door of the restroom. The old man was sitting at a table for two about halfway down the café. All the other tables were empty. There wasn’t even a waitress around. Muted sounds came from the kitchen area, but they were the only two people in the room.

She wanted to turn away from his penetrating gaze but couldn’t. Had she ever seen eyes that golden brown before? She didn’t think so. They reminded her of an eagle’s, alert yet with the wisdom of the ages mirrored in them. It felt as though he was seeing all the way into her soul, into the deepest parts of herself she hid from the rest of the world. She didn’t like feeling quite so vulnerable.

Kellsie took a deep breath and starting walking. The old man was nothing to her. What did she care if he looked at her? Maybe he recognized her from the movies. She knew she was grasping at straws. He didn’t look like the horror-movie type. But what did she know? Stranger things had happened.

“Wait, please.” He stretched his arm out, blocking her progress toward the front of the room.