24

It was six o'clock the next morning when they got together for breakfast. And seven thirty when they finally made it to the ranch. They had decided not to shoot a sunrise on the first day, but to settle for full day shots, and eventually try for a sunset. But it was almost noon by the time everything was set up to the film crew's satisfaction and they were fully rolling with Henry Johns-Adams riding a good-looking black mare, which made Samantha long for Caroline's Thoroughbred stallion. This was no Black Beauty Henry was riding, but she was a pretty horse and would look good on film. She had a pleasing gait as they cantered again and again over the same hills, filming take after take, but the horse was as even tempered as her rider, and by the end of the day everyone was tired, but there were no frayed tempers. They were a good group to work with, and Samantha was pleased with the way it was going. She went over to talk to the ranch foreman and thanked him for letting them film on the ranch. She had already sent flowers to the ranch owner's wife and a case of bourbon to her husband, in addition to what they were paying per day in order to film there. But now she handed the foreman several bottles too, and he looked pleased with the gift and chatted with her. He was even more impressed when he learned that she had spent most of the year working on a ranch in California, and for a little while they discussed ranch business and horseflesh and cattle, and Sam felt almost as though she had come home. After a while she happened to mention Tate Jordan, wondered if he'd met him, and said that there was a commercial she wanted to use him in, if he ever crossed the foreman's path. She described him as a fine man and someone she respected a great deal. Out of respect for Tate's sentiments about ranch people knowing about his relationship with her, she didn't let on about that. The foreman took her card and assured her that he'd be happy to let her know if he came across Tate, and after that she went back to the others and drove one of the bulging station wagons back to the hotel.

She struck out equally in her search for Tate at each stop of their trip in the next three weeks, although the filming of the commercials was going brilliantly. The production crew knew that they had gotten the most beautiful footage they'd ever had, and so far the entire shoot had gone off without a hitch. As a result spirits were soaring, friendships were cemented, humors were good, and everyone was willing to work endless hours in the hot sun and seldom complained. They had even managed to get two perfect sunrises on film and several sunsets. Only Sam seemed to be dragging by the time they got to their last stop. They were filming at a ranch in Steamboat Springs, Colorado, and Sam had just interviewed the last of the foremen and hung out for almost an hour with some of the ranch hands who had come by to watch them film. She knew now that if she found Tate it wouldn't be this time, and they were going home the next day, so once again her hopes had been dashed. She would go back to New York, and wait, and try again someday when she was near a ranch. And maybe, maybe, one day she would find him. Maybe. If.