“So that’s why you talked to Dale,” Kerney said. “What did he say?”

“He’s gonna do it.”

Kerney tried the asparagus soup. It was good. “You can hire whoever you want?” he asked.

Johnny, who hated tomatoes, picked them out of the salad and put them on the edge of the plate. “For the key, nontechnical New Mexico personnel I can. I’m an executive producer for the project. The story line was my idea. I’m even getting a screenwriting credit for it.”

“I’m impressed. When does all this take place?”

“In September, after the rainy season, when it’s not so damn hot.”

“I’ve got a full-time job, Johnny.”

“We’re talking about three weeks on location, maximum. That’s all you have to commit to. Use your vacation time. You’ll get top dollar, housing, meals, transportation, and expenses. Plus, you can bring the wife and son along gratis. In fact, we’ll hire them as extras. That’s what I promised to do with Dale’s wife and daughters.”

Johnny finished his greens and slugged back his whiskey. “We have a ninety-day shooting schedule. Three weeks in the Bootheel to do the major cowboy and rodeoing stuff, then some other location filming around the state in Silver City and Las Cruces. We’ll do the set work here in Santa Fe at the sound studios on the college campus. We’re hiring film students as apprentices.”

Kerney put his spoon down and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Sounds like a major undertaking.”

“It’s big,” Johnny replied. “My sister, Julia, is in on it. You know, you broke her heart when you came back from Vietnam and didn’t marry her.”

Kerney laughed. “Get serious, Johnny. Julia didn’t want anything to do with me.” A year younger than Johnny, Julia had been one of the prettiest, most popular girls in high school. A great horsewoman in her own right, she’d won the state high-school barrel-racing competition the year after Kerney, Johnny, and Dale graduated.