would you do that?”
A hint of annoyance pinched her brow. “Not that it’s any of your business, but my mom needed some holiday help at the boutique.” Removing her hands from her pockets, she brushed something from her coat sleeve. “And since I no longer have a job...”
She’d lost her job? Now he was really glad he’d given her only a warning. After all, she had a child to care for. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s only temporary.” She looked everywhere but at him, seemingly studying everything from ceiling to floor. “So where’s Mrs. Nichols?”
“Rehab.”
Eyes wide, she finally met his gaze.
“She broke her hip.”
“Ooh, that’s rough. She’s such a sweet woman.”
“Yes, she is.”
Lacie meandered toward the windows. “Great theater teacher, too. I hope she recovers soon.”
“We all do.”
After a silent moment, she faced him. “So you’re directing the play in her stead?”
“Yes, I am.”
“I...didn’t realize you were into theater.”
“I’m not. But my mother was. The Christmas play was her baby.” He lifted a shoulder. “And since there was no one else willing to direct...”
A hint of a smile played across her pink lips. “That’s actually very sweet. I know how close you were to your mother.”
Sentiment prevented him from responding with anything but a nod.
“That reminds me, though,” she continued. “I wanted to thank you.”
“For what?”
“For giving me a warning instead of a ticket.” Hands back in her pockets, she shrugged. “In case you couldn’t tell, I was kind of freaked out about what had happened. That warning made my day a little bit better.”
Something about that last statement warmed him. “Glad I could help.”
“So where is everyone else?” She looked to the street as an echo of voices drifted from downstairs.
“Sounds like they just arrived.”
A short time later, after moving a few rows of chairs out of the way, he gathered in front of the stage with the dozen or so cast members comprised of townsfolk ranging in age from eighteen to seventy.
“I want to thank you all for coming and for being a part of this play.” He filled them in on Mrs. Nichols’s condition. “Now, I know many of you have been involved in this event for many years. However, I’m new to this directing thing, so if any of you would like to bow out, this would be your chance.”
“Don’t be silly, Matt.” Valerie Dawson waved off his comment. She’d been a good friend of his mother’s and a part of this event since its inception. “We’re just happy you were willing to step in on such short notice. Besides, it’ll be nice to have a Stephens leading us again.”
A round of nods and “that’s rights” followed, bolstering his confidence. Maybe this wouldn’t be so hard, after all.
“All right, then. Since this is supposed to be a read-through, I guess I’ll just pass out these scripts—” he picked up the stack from the edge of the stage “—and we’ll get started.”
“Excuse me.” Lacie held up her hand. “Are we not going to go over show expectations?”
Show expectations? What were those?
“Do you have our call times?” asked someone else.
Call times? Okay, that was rehearsals. At least he thought that’s what they were.
“Oh, and what about costumes?” asked another. “When will we be fitted?”
Matt wasn’t used to having his authority questioned. Then again, he wasn’t wearing a uniform, either. He was completely out of his element.
He scanned the expectant faces before him, not wanting to let them down. Yet there was one glaring factor he couldn’t ignore.
He was in way over his head. Having Lacie here only amplified his incompetence. And he got the feeling she didn’t like him much, either. Two things he was determined to change.
He was crashing and burning. And Lacie couldn’t bear to watch. Not after hearing why he’d chosen to become their director. She had to help him out.
Suddenly nervous, though, she hesitated, glancing at the faces around her. While she knew most of the people, one she even used to babysit, she’d been gone from Ouray for a long time. She didn’t want to come across as a know-it-all, no matter how much community theater she’d done. A cast was a team, no one person better than another. She supposed she should have remembered that when she brought up the show expectations.
Still, she had to do something.
With lights glaring overhead, she raised her hand again and mustered her most charming smile. “You know what? I think we’re all eager to do the read-through, so let’s not worry about the technicalities right now.”
“You are absolutely right, Lacie,” said Valerie. “Let’s get on with the read-through.”
“No, no.” Matt set the scripts back down on the edge of the stage. “If the show expectations come first, then we will cover them now.”
What? It was obvious he didn’t have a clue what show expectations were. And yet when she’d given him an out, he ignored it.
Let him fail then.
No, that wasn’t right or Christian of her. Though it was apparent he didn’t want anyone to interfere.
Hands slung low on his denim-clad hips, he continued, “I want to do this right. So let’s go ahead and discuss our expectations.” He scanned the group before him. “Rehearsal times are firm. In case you aren’t aware, I’m former military, which means I’m a stickler for promptness.”
The cast was silent, giving him their full attention. The military reference must have scared them.
The corners of his mouth lifted a notch. “However, I’m also a realist. As a law enforcement officer, I know how life can interfere. Before you leave tonight, I will give each of you my cell number. If you’re going to be late, please let me know.”
She had to give him credit for trying.
“Now that we’ve got that out of the way—” he reached for the scripts “—let’s continue with the read-through.”
One by one he passed out the scripts, though she was beginning to wish she hadn’t signed on for this. No matter how much she loved acting, she’d agreed to work with Mrs. Nichols, not Matt Stephens, the man who didn’t have a clue he’d broken her heart.
“The Bishop’s Wife.” His baritone voice carried throughout the space. “Mr. Garcia, would you get us started, please?”
For the next hour and a half, Lacie focused on the script as well as the rest of the cast instead of the man leading them. And once they were finished, she was eager to leave. After chatting with Clare Droste, the girl she’d once babysat, Lacie donned her coat and started across the wooden floor. Maybe she’d even make it back to her mother’s in time for dinner.
“Lacie?”
Her steps slowed. Matt’s voice set her nerves on edge.
Hands in her pockets, she turned on her heel. “Yes?”
He