A Thousand Miles

Part 8

JoLynn glanced at her watch as she pulled into a parking space outside their rooms at the Interstate Inn. Ten o'clock. They could be in San Antonio in time for a relatively early lunch, then they could spend the afternoon at the Alamo.

She tapped the horn to let the others know she was back. Tomorrow was Thursday. They could probably cover Missions San Jose and Capistrano then, and Espada and Concepcion on Friday. Maybe they could get some footage of the River Walk on Friday as well. They probably couldn't fit much about the River Walk into their twenty-two minutes, but a few shots of it might make a nice addition to the opening of the segment.

The door to Curtis' room opened and he stepped out carrying some of the camera equipment he'd unloaded before they had the SUV towed. Shane stepped out a moment later carrying more equipment. He didn't look at her.

What did that mean? Did he hate her work? Did he think she was an idiot? Was he just preoccupied with not destroying their stuff? JoLynn tried to shake off the obsessive train of thought. What difference did it make what he thought of her? He was the new guy.

She stepped out of the SUV. The door to her room opened, and Mel carried out her overnight bag and computer bag. JoLynn packed everything of hers before she'd called the garage to check on the SUV, but she did one last tour of the room and the bathroom. Then she grabbed her own bag and stepped back out into the mid-morning sunshine. She glanced up at the mostly sunny sky. Good weather for recording.

She hoisted her bag into the back of the SUV, then closed it and walked back around to the driver's side. Shane was waiting for her there, the pages she'd given him last night clutched in one hand and ruffling in the breeze. She could see where he'd marked them up in red ink.

JoLynn took a deep breath. She'd asked for his input. Another deep breath. And he was a talented writer with lots to offer. And the show was struggling, and sponsors were leaving. And to not accept help because pride got in the way was the worst kind of stupid, especially when help was precisely what she'd spent the last year praying for.

"Morning." His voice was still husky with sleep. And he looked good; clean shaven and ready for the day in a bright red button front shirt, jeans and boots. Red was a good color on him.

She blinked and redirected her thoughts. "Good morning."

"Just thought you might like to have a look at these before we got started."

She took the offered pages and glanced through them. While red might be a very good color on Shane, the hue definitely did not look so good all over her work. Though on closer inspection, it appeared as if he'd circled big sections of text and drawn arrows to other parts of a page, or made a note to insert the circled segment on another page. JoLynn furrowed her brows.

"I just rearranged it a little."

She glanced up at him. He'd leaned against her door as if he was ready to discuss his edits at length and they didn't have somewhere else to be. "I see."

"Your writing is fine."

Fine?

"Especially given that it's meant to be spoken instead of read."

So, if her writing were meant to be read it wouldn't be fine? She tried to bristle, but couldn't given that he really wasn't criticizing her. If anything he'd meant to compliment her. It just came out wrong.

"I think the whole segment might be a little more exciting if you started with this paragraph here." He stepped closer, flipped one page up and pointed to a circled portion.

He leaned against the side of the SUV again, blocking the cool morning breeze. His warmth radiated toward her. And what was that scent? Not strong enough to be cologne, but clean-smelling. Soap or shampoo, maybe? Coffee, too.

She glanced from his pointed finger up to his face. The hair at his temple had just a little wave to it. Like if he let it grow any longer, it might start to curl some. There were a few grays interspersed among the dark brown. His skin looked smooth, his mouth full and quick to smile.

"The one about the battle of San Jacinto."

JoLynn blinked. The battle of San Jacinto? She glanced back to his pointed finger. Oh.

"You could start here, talking about how the Texans were outnumbered, but crafty. And they—"

"Crafty?"

"Yeah, you know. Sneaky."

"You mean brilliant strategists?"

Shane grinned. "Whatever. Just be sure to include the fact that they snuck up on the Mexican army while it slept."

"In the middle of the afternoon. Who takes a siesta right before a battle? And if you ask me, a surprise attack can be very effective."

"And that after the Texan infantry was in position the charge was led by the cry 'Remember the Alamo!'"

The feeling with which he shouted the famous battle cry startled her. She couldn't suppress a smile at his enthusiasm. "I guess you can do that part."

He returned her smile. No mocking, patronizing, infuriating grin. Just an honest smile. Dang. Under different circumstances she'd probably like him. A lot.

"JoLynn." The soft way he spoke her name and the earnest tone of his voice only reinforced that perception. "I'm sorry about the way this all came about. I didn't know that Truman hadn't discussed hiring me with you. At least not until I saw your face when we met day before yesterday."

Her smile faded a bit. She looked down, the shock and humiliation of that meeting suddenly feeling very fresh.

"I never intended to be at odds with you. But I can understand your feeling like I am."

"Can you?" That came out sounding less tough and more vulnerable than she'd intended.

She glanced back up in time to see him nod. "Truman has all the capital. But you and Curtis and Mel, y'all do the work. You should have at least been informed."

Informed? They should have at least been informed? She bristled. She should have been more than informed. She should have been consulted about the very idea before the decision had ever been made. This was her show. Even at its inception over lunch at the dining commons of Southwestern University the idea had been hers. Truman wouldn't even be involved if she hadn't pitched the concept to him. Without her there would be no show.

She was poised to say so, too, until in her mind she heard Shane's logical response. What about the Texas Back Roads Show?

"Anyway," Shane continued. "The decision's been made. It's done. Couldn't we go from here and call a truce? Just for this episode. Just to see how the day goes with us working together." He gave the papers in her hand a tap. "So far so good, I'd say."

JoLynn took a deep breath. So far so good.

He was right about the battle of San Jacinto paragraph. It would be a more exciting lead-in to a shot of the Alamo and a description of what happened there two hundred years ago to inspire the famous battle cry.

"If it helps, at the bottom of that stack of papers is a copy of my resume. You should have seen it before today. But there it is anyway. Just so you have a complete list of my credentials."

JoLynn flipped to the bottom page and skimmed the information there. Sure enough. Masters in journalism, Bachelors in communication. Both from the University of Tennessee.

"If you like, I can drive while you look over all that."

JoLynn glanced back up at Shane. "Thank you, no. I'll drive, and then we can all go over this at lunch when we get to San Antonio. You ever had Mexican food?"

His easy grin was back again. "We have Mexican food in Tennessee."

JoLynn shook her head and pulled the driver's side door open, tossing her backpack to the floorboard between the seats while Shane hustled around to the passenger side. "Speedy Taco doesn't count."