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to confront her mom, dealing with the emotional meltdown afterward wasn’t worth it.

      Andrea glanced at the therapy information again. “It says here therapy is once a week. Couldn’t you hop on a quick flight, go to therapy with Ryan and then fly right back to the set?”

      Stacy swallowed hard. She wouldn’t be here banging her head against the wall trying to get Andrea to help out if the problem were that easily fixed. “I can’t be gone for an entire day every week.”

      Her mom frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. “I certainly can’t be locked into weekly appointments. I have to be here to work on my marriage. That and healing physically from the accident have to be my top priorities.”

      “This is exactly why Ryan doesn’t think you care about him.”

      “That’s not fair. I love my son. I just need to concentrate on myself right now. That’s what my therapist says. Until I do that I don’t have anything to give to anyone else.”

      Life had dealt her mother some tough hits, but that didn’t give her the right to crawl in her shell and forget about her son.

      “I need to do this movie. Finances are tight.”

      Andrea waived a delicate manicured hand through the air. “You’re just like your father, always worrying about money. He was always a sky is falling type, too.”

      Stacy sighed, and clasped her hands on her lap. Andrea received a generous settlement when Stacy’s father died, but she lived as though the money would never run out. How many times would they have to go over budget basics before her mother understood? Apparently at least once more. “Your expenses have to be less than your income. Since your divorce from Allan, that hasn’t been the case. We had to liquidate a lot of your investments in the divorce settlement.”

      Her mother bit her lip. For a second she looked older than her years, and Stacy’s heart tightened. “I wish I’d listened to you about asking him to sign a prenup. I was just so scared that if I did he’d say I didn’t trust him, and he’d leave me.”

      Which he did anyway. While a broken engagement would’ve been tough on her mother, it would have been less financially painful than a messy divorce. Why couldn’t her mother see that?

      Because she’s so desperate for love.

      “Mom, you have to stick to the budget we made out. You can’t just disregard—”

      “Don’t start lecturing me about how I spent too much money redecorating the house before Grant and I got married.” Andrea folded her hands, which were still young-looking, thanks to weekly deep moisturizing treatments, on her lap. “I don’t regret spending a penny of that money. I wanted him to feel like this was his house. Part of the reason my marriage with Allan failed was he felt like he was living in your father’s shadow.”

      “I’m trying to explain why you need to make some changes. If insurance pays for Ryan’s therapy at all, it’ll reimburse us. I can’t afford to lose out on work right now.”

      Especially when I’m the only working member of the family, and it’s been a while since I had a hit movie or series.

      Her mother frowned. Tears filled her eyes again. “I’m sorry we’ve been such a burden to you.”

      No. Andrea’s “poor me” routine wouldn’t work today. She refused to feel guilty. This was all about Ryan and what he needed. “We’re a family, and family helps each other out.”

      But shouldn’t the flow go both ways?

      “Grant and I might still be able to make our marriage work.” Her mother’s lips trembled, and her voice broke. “I don’t know if I can survive another divorce. Stacy, you have to help me. You’ve got to give me this chance. Can’t you see if they can work the shooting schedule around Ryan’s therapy?”

      “I was lucky to get this role. Half of the actresses in Hollywood wanted it.”

      “Nonsense. That woman owes you,” her mother said, a sneer on her face as she referred to Maggie Sullivan McAlister, the creator and director of The Women of Spring Creek Ranch.

      “No one gave me the part. I earned it.”

      “After what she did on that dreadful reality dating show, she’s lucky you didn’t sue her for every penny she had. I still can’t believe that cowboy chose the plain Jane director over you.”

      Stacy only agreed to be a bachelorette on Finding Mrs. Right because she’d been between jobs. Never once had she considered letting her heart get involved with the bachelor. She hadn’t been foolish enough to believe a reality show relationship would last longer than the latest fashion fad. For her, the show had been a job like any other TV show. A vehicle to getting a series of her own.

      “I got over that ages ago.” Now if only other people would quit bringing the subject up, she could forget about it, too. “If I ask Maggie to shoot around Ryan’s therapy I risk her giving the role to someone else. Mom, please go with Ryan so I can do this movie.”

      There, she’d put it all on the line. She told her mother exactly what she needed. Stacy held her breath, and prayed this once her mother would pull up her mom panties and be the parent.

      “Grant and I need time to work out our problems. Then I can go with Ryan for therapy. Surely waiting a month or two won’t make that much difference.”

      So much for Andrea stepping up and doing the right thing by putting her children first.

      “He shouldn’t have to wait until it’s convenient for us.” Ryan deserved this chance, and apparently she was the only one willing to make it happen.

      As a child, whenever she asked her mom to play a game or read a book to her, the response had always been, “In a minute.” Or, “Not now.” Or, “Ask the nanny.” That taught Stacy a valuable lesson. Asking for something led to disappointment. When she learned to quit asking, she avoided that pain.

      Harnessing her anger, Stacy mumbled something about how she’d take care of Ryan’s therapy, said goodbye to Andrea and stumbled out of the house. Once inside her car, she dropped her head to the steering wheel and cried.

      A minute later Stacy dried her tears and told herself to snap out of it. A pity party never helped. All it did was wreck a girl’s makeup, and leave her with red, puffy eyes. There had to be a solution. All she had to do was find it.

      * * *

      LATER THAT AFTERNOON as Stacy sat in her cozy Hollywood condo, she faced the truth. She could either do the movie or she could give her brother a chance to recover.

      There would always be another movie. Maybe not as wonderful a role as the lead in The Women of Spring Creek Ranch, but losing the job wouldn’t kill her career. Of course she’d have to solve her cash-flow problem. She’d call her agent and ask him to get her any work he could find to bring in some quick money without requiring a long commitment. Commercials. Voice-over work, whatever, as long as the job paid. Her career would be fine.

      Provided Maggie understood. Otherwise Stacy could find herself blacklisted with every director in town. Her hand shook as she picked up her cell phone. “Maggie, I hate to do this, but I’ve got to drop out of the movie. My brother needs physical therapy. It’s a ten-week program, and right now I need to be with him. I can’t be on location for a movie and get him to his therapy sessions.”

      “While I’m disappointed we won’t get to work together, I understand. Family has to come first.”

      Such a simple concept. How come her mother couldn’t grasp it? “The doctor says his best chance to walk again is a therapeutic horse program.”

      “That’s the therapy where patients ride horses, isn’t it?”

      “It is.”

      “One of the things about a small town is anything happens and everyone knows about it,” Maggie said. “You’re not

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