flicks of her finger, she took a shot of the stretch of ocean to the west, another of the cliff at the south of the cove and then a northward view that included that tangle of tropical vegetation planted a century before.
“What are you doing?” Baxter asked.
“Seeing if I can match some establishing shots to those in the Sunrise Pictures iconic movies. The first filmed here at the cove told the story of two strangers washed up on a deserted island. They landed on the beach with the detritus of a shipwreck and had to find a way to survive...as well as fight a fierce attraction, of course.” She smiled as she focused the camera on a stretch of sand that she thought was the exact location where dashing Roger and innocent beauty Odelle had built their encampment.
When she drew the camera away, she saw that Baxter was staring at her again. Embarrassed by his scrutiny, she hitched the pack over her shoulder and set off once more, trying to pretend he wasn’t dogging her footsteps. It didn’t help, however. At each stop Baxter inquired about her purpose. So she ended up telling him the storylines of The Courageous Castaways, Penelope and the Pirate and Sweet Safari.
“For that one, they managed to truck in an actual elephant. When it wasn’t being used in a scene, they tethered it to a stake driven into the sand on the beach.”
“That must have been quite a sight,” Baxter said, rubbing the sweating side of one of the water bottles she’d brought over his forehead.
She tried not to stare as he unscrewed the top and chugged the liquid. But from the corner of her eye she watched his throat move with each swallow. “It was quite a sight, especially for some hapless men out for a pleasure sail from Newport Harbor one afternoon. Apparently they’d been drinking and lost track of time...and they thought possibly longitude and latitude as well when they spied the pachyderm nestled among the banana plants and palm trees.”
“Did they put in for land to discover the truth for themselves?”
She nodded. “So the story goes. They were quite relieved to find themselves still in California and then thrilled to meet the famous film star Edith Essex.”
“Skye’s ancestor.”
“A great talent,” Addy said, as she turned back the way they’d come. She had enough photos for today.
On the return trip, she found herself telling Baxter more about one of the silent film era’s most notable actresses. “Edith left a hardscrabble life with her family in Arizona and headed for Hollywood when she was still in her teens. Though she had ambition, she didn’t consider herself particularly attractive, but on-screen...on-screen she glowed. She eventually married Max Sunstrum, the head of Sunrise.”
“You’ve seen all her movies?” Baxter asked, keeping pace behind her.
Addy nodded. “I like imagining how much fun she had in her acting career. I’ll bet through childhood she’d escaped the reality of a large family and little food by fantasizing she was someone else, someplace else. Then finally here she was, in this beautiful location, playing characters who found adventure, battled villains and won the love of worthy men.”
Baxter held a door open for her and she blinked, realizing they’d made it back to the archives room and that she’d been chattering about Sunrise Pictures and Edith Essex the entire time. “Well,” she said, feeling Awkward Addy all over again as she crossed the floor and dropped her backpack on the table, “I guess you learned more about Crescent Cove’s silent movies than you ever wanted to.”
He shut the door, enclosing them in the small space. “I enjoyed all of it,” he said. “Were you like Edith as a kid? Did you get lost in your imagination?”
She hesitated. Would he think it was weird of her?
“Don’t bother answering, I can read it on your face.” Smiling, he came closer to toy with the ends of her short hair. “Who would have thought Addison March had such a wild fantasy life under these pretty curls.”
Addy told herself she wasn’t blushing again. “I suppose that means you didn’t entertain yourself by making up stories as a kid. I knew we didn’t have anything in common.” He was Golden Boy Baxter. His real life was ideal, ordered and full of people who cared about him. She was the girl who’d spent her childhood with imaginary friends and other solo comforts.
“That can be a good thing,” Baxter said. “For example, without a woman like you I