Page 70 of Born to be Wilder

Leaning up against a hitching post was Jackson Harlow, a man who looked like he’d been carved from granite by God’s own hands. A face I’d seen in the movies more times than I could count.

Doris inhaled sharply beside me.

Sylvie’s hand found my arm and gripped it without a word.

Even Alice, who was not easily impressed by much of anything, went very still.

“Get outta here!” I slapped my leg. “Jackson Harlow is in this! That means this is a legit movie, ladies! Big budget stuff! Damn skippy, we’ve hit the big time!”

“Look! Colt Stirling!” Sylvie pointed to the other famous actor walking toward Jackson, his spurs scraping the dirt with each step.

I wanted to lose my mind. I wanted to run over there and introduce myself and tell them I had watched every single thing they’d ever made and ask if I could take a photo for Roxie, who would absolutely die when she heard about this.

Instead, I straightened my hat, put my thumbs in my holster, and walked forward like a woman who belonged on a movie set.

We were professionals now.

“Come on, ladies. Let’s find out where we’re supposed to go.”

We walked on, four women in period costumes strolling through a real-life Western town, looking for their scene to become immortalized in movie history. Even if just as extras.

Side by side, we walked down that old Western street, and I thought if there were only a sunset behind us, it would be the best scene in any movie ever made.

I could almost hear the deep voice from the movie trailer in my mind, the audience riveted as we sauntered toward the camera.

They thought they could stop them. They thought they had won. But what they didn’t know was that vengeance came for them in the form of four widows with one goal… total destruction!

I wondered if they would give us all an Oscar or only get us one to share that we would have to pass back and forth every few months.

“Cut!” a deep voice yelled, pulling me from my imagined speech where Roxie was waving at me from the audience in a beautiful gown.

We slammed to a stop, and all eyes spun toward us.

“What the hell are you doing?” A woman rushed toward us, her eyes bulging so wide they nearly burst out of her head. “Get off the set!”

“What? Wait. Are we…” Sylvie’s face drained of color. “Are you shooting a scene right now?”

“Yes! And you just walked right into the freaking shot! Get out of here!” She grabbed her hair like she was about to rip it out.

“Oh God. This is embarrassing.” Alice’s face bloomed in several shades of red as she looked around at everyone staring at us, glares and scowls across their faces.

Doris cringed. “Oops.”

“My bad,” I answered. “Was looking for our scene.”

“Well, this isn’t it! Go!” The woman pointed toward the side.

Sylvie grabbed my hand and dragged me behind her, the four of us sprinting to safety around a corner.

We slid to a stop behind a fake grocery store, the dust settling around us as we stood silently for several moments.

“Uh, so that just happened,” Sylvie finally said. “I can’t believe we did that! Marge! You just dragged us into a live shoot!”

“Well, the guys ditched us and someone had to get us where we were going! How was I supposed to know they were rolling? It’s a town! People walk in towns!”

“Let’s just try not to embarrass ourselves anymore today. Please.” Alice adjusted her hair, her Vegas-level poise finally returning as she smoothed her skirt.

“Are we in trouble? Are they going to kick us out? I want to be in the movie!” Doris peered around the corner, back toward the crew resetting the shot.