Maggie (Tales Behind the Veils)

by Violet Howe

  “Do you have a helicopter?”

  “Yeah. I’ll get you up in that some time.”

  “I might actually do better with that. With machinery, we have some measure of control. With animals, not so much.”

  He looked over at Fallon and then grinned at me. “She’s not out of control. She’s following Dallas, and she’s ready to listen to you. Send her to the right.”

  I moved the reins as he had instructed me to, and Fallon veered to the right, maintaining her steady pace. I moved them the opposite direction, and she fell back in step beside Dallas.

  “See? You have control.”

  “Ha! I have the illusion of control. She could break free and do whatever she wanted at any time.”

  He looked up toward the tree tops and sighed. “That’s all we ever have in life, isn’t it? The illusion of control? We don’t actually control anything. Despite our best efforts.”

  The melancholy tone had returned to his voice, and I stared at him, wondering what caused it.

  His profile was carved perfection—the jaw line straight and squared off, the lips full, and the chin jutting slightly. The waves of his hair caught the streams of sunlight that broke through the tree cover here and there, bathing his rich, brown locks in hues of gold.

  His shoulders were broad, and his back straight, and even though his stance in the saddle was relaxed, he seemed alert and ready to react to any situation that might arise.

  He was every bit the cowboy, and though I’d never realized what a turn-on that could be, I couldn’t deny that the heat generated between my thighs wasn’t only due to the friction of the saddle and the constant movement of the horse.

  He looked my direction, and I averted my eyes, embarrassed to have been caught staring in case he could somehow read my thoughts.

  My gaze settled on Dallas’s right back flank, which held a faint brand of the same intertwined Ds I’d seen painted on the wall in the ranch.

  I turned in the saddle as much as I dared so I could see Fallon’s rear end, and the same double Ds graced her right side.

  “So, what’s the Double D Ranch if your ranch is Silver Creek and your dad’s is Pearson?”

  He seemed startled by the question, and he gave me an intense stare before an expression of recognition came over him.

  “Oh, you saw that in the barn?”

  “Yes, and the brand on Dallas and Fallon.”

  He looked away from me, pausing so long that I thought he might not answer the question.

  “When I started this ranch—when I got the land from my dad—it was called the Double D Ranch. But when Bronwyn decided to use the property for weddings, she thought brides might not like having to put Double D Ranch on their invitations. I guess it could have a different connotation under the right circumstances.”

  He didn’t look at me as he talked, and I couldn’t gauge from his voice whether it was a subject best left unexplored, so I plunged ahead with my curiosity.

  “Why Double D? Where did that name come from?”

  His shoulders lifted as he took in a deep breath and held it, and when he exhaled they seemed to droop lower than they had been before.

  “My wife, Deanna, came up with it. It was my name and hers intertwined. Dexter and Deanna.”

  The catch in his voice made me hesitate, but I still wanted to know more. The mystery of the main house and the impressive bedroom closet upstairs had intrigued me since the day we met, and I was too close to getting an answer to give up so quickly.

  “How long have you been divorced?”

  He looked at me, and I flinched at the pain in his eyes, immediately wishing I’d left it alone.

  “We didn’t divorce. She died of injuries from a car crash. Eight years ago.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, trying to think of a way to take it all back and go a different direction with our conversation.

  “Me too,” he said, flashing a tepid grin that didn’t make it to his eyes. “It was a dark time.”

  I felt certain they’d built the house together, but I didn’t know if they’d ever occupied it. Bronwyn had mentioned they remodeled to accommodate having events once the plans changed, and the accident must have been the change she’d referenced.

  “For a long while, I wished I could follow her. I woke up every day blissfully not knowing for the first few seconds, but then it would hit me like a Mack truck, and the pain would cut me to the core all over again every single morning. She was everywhere I looked, and everything I saw. The horses, the stables, that damned house. I couldn’t bear to be in that house—her house—without her, so I stopped the construction. I probably would have torn it down if Bronwyn hadn’t wanted it so desperately.”

  I finally had the answer to my question, but it sat like a rock in my stomach. I would have rather not known if it meant I could have spared him the pain of discussing it.

  “I’m sorry, Dax. I didn’t know. We don’t have to talk about it.”

  “It’s okay,” he said with a bit more of a grin, though it still didn’t reach his eyes. “It feels good to talk about her sometimes. To tell someone she was real. No one in my family brings it up. I think it’s either too painful for them, or they think it’s too painful for me, so it’s like she never existed sometimes. Our relationship with my parents wasn’t always on the best of terms, so I think that factors into their feelings as well. Feeling guilty, perhaps. My father had no patience for the pursuit of horses.”

  “Why?”

  “Too much of an investment with too little of a return. Too much risk. He’s a cattleman. Horses are a necessity for work, not for hobby. Deanna was brought up with thoroughbreds, and she and her sister, Revae, were completely immersed in that world. I thought we could bridge the two. I could work my family’s ranch and maintain my roles there, and she could have horses on our portion of the ranch and follow her dreams. My father would only agree if we annexed a part of the ranch so we could set it up as a separate business entity. He wanted no part of it, and after she died…well, I didn’t pursue it any further.”

  He grew quiet, and we rode in silence except for the crunching beneath the horse’s feet and an occasional scurry of a lizard or squirrel darting through the woods.

  The heaviness of his words hung in the air, and the sun’s rays had sunk too low to stream light through the tree branches.

  22 KEEP ROLLING

  We were approaching what seemed to be a clearing, but once we came out from under the trees, it was actually a small bluff that dropped a few feet before the tree line continued. From the top of the bluff, the view opened up and there was beauty as far as the eye could see.

  “So, this is Pearson Ranch,” Dax said. “Not all of it, of course, but a good chunk is visible from here. If you look over there, see that second tree line at the edge of those pastures?”

  I followed the direction he indicated and nodded.

  “You can make out my parents’ house there. See it? It’s white. There’s a large barn to the right of it. The trees might block your view, but if you look closely, it’s there.”

  I raised up in the saddle, pushing more weight into the stirrups and straining to see what he described.

  “Oh, yeah, I see it. Wow. I bet it’s beautiful up close.”

  He nodded. “It is. Too late in the day to reach it, but we can take an earlier ride again sometime if you’d like.”

  I nodded, thinking that while I wouldn’t mind taking another ride by his side, I wasn’t sure I was into meeting the parents. That reeked of relationship far beyond the casual encounters I was already struggling to accept for what they were.

  “Hey,” Dax said as he turned to face me. “I’m sorry I went off on all that back there. I didn’t mean to put such a damper on the day or pour out my life’s tragedies.”

  “It’s fine. I was happy to listen. Well, I mean, not happy, obviously, because, well, it wasn’t happy, but…you know what I mean.”

  “I think so. I feel very comfortable wit
h you, Maggie. I find myself wanting to talk to you. Wanting to tell you about my life and learn more about yours. It’s like—”

  Suddenly, his words were cut off by a loud rustling charge through the woods behind us. I shifted to turn in the saddle right as Dax turned his horse to face whatever was coming. His hand went instinctively to his hip, but if he was accustomed to having a weapon there, he came up empty.

  Fallon had begun to dance beneath me, and I wasn’t sure how much of that was her being nervous from the unknown intruder or her reacting to my fear. Maybe both.

  “Get behind me!” Dax said, motioning to me as he nudged Dallas forward.

  I pushed my toe gently into Fallon’s side and scooted forward as I laid the rein against her neck, trying to coax her to move behind Dallas.

  At that moment, Cody burst through the brush on my right and charged toward me and Fallon. He started barking the moment he saw us, and Fallon bolted beneath me, surging forward past Dallas as Cody nipped at her tail.

  Dax whistled and yelled, but the dog was in hot pursuit of us, his teeth chomping at her tail and her back legs, which made her run faster.

  “Maggie, pull back on her reins and put your weight on your feet!”

  The reins had fallen from my hand in my panic to grip the saddle with both hands. I couldn’t shift my weight to my feet without lifting myself up, and I was too scared to do it.

  Dax and Dallas caught up with us quickly, and he continued to yell at Cody and whistle, but to no avail. The faster Fallon ran, the more Cody barked and nipped at her.

  She stumbled as his teeth hit her flesh, then she turned without warning to head down the uneven terrain of the bluff.

  I lurched forward in the saddle, holding on for dear life as Fallon took us downward with Cody still matching every stride.

  Dax was riding as close beside us as he could with the challenges of the landscape, and though he tried multiple times to grab the loose reins that flew free around her front legs, it was useless.

  “You need to get the reins,” he shouted. “Can you reach them?”

  I leaned my right hand as far forward as I dared, unwilling to let go of the saddle horn with the left, but I couldn’t grasp them, and the movement had pitched me off balance.

  Cody’s teeth closed on Fallon’s tail again, and when she darted to the left to escape him, my weight was too far to the right to hold on.

  It seemed like slow motion and at the same time, it was so fast I couldn’t comprehend what was happening. One minute, I was on the back of the horse, reaching for the reins and holding on as though my life depended on it, and the next minute the ground was rushing up to greet me as I flew from her back.

  My shoulder took the brunt of the initial impact, but thankfully, the steep grade of the bluff sent me rolling as soon as I made contact with the ground, helping to minimize the damage. When I came to a stop, I was flat on my back with the breath knocked out of me, stunned too much to inhale or exhale.

  Cody was the first to reach me, and his hassling, dripping tongue in my face was an assurance that I was indeed alive despite my lack of oxygen.

  I heard Dax’s feet hit the ground almost immediately after I landed, and within seconds he was on his knees beside me.

  “Maggie! Maggie! Oh my God, are you okay? Are you all right? Can you hear me? Is anything broken?”

  My lungs burned and my heart pounded from the inability to take a breath, but then a sharp pain shot through me and I inhaled the largest gulp of air I’d ever taken. I coughed and sucked in another breath as I tried to move to a seated position.

  “Whoa, go slow. We need to make sure nothing is broken,” Dax said, putting his arm behind my back to support me.

  “I’m fine. At least, I think I’m fine,” I croaked out, trying to catch my breath and coughing again with the effort.

  “Can you move your arms? Your legs? Did you hit your head?”

  My shoulder had begun to throb, and I pulled the coat sleeve down for a closer inspection.

  “There’s no blood,” I said. “It hurts, but I don’t think it’s broken.”

  He ran his hands across my shoulder and down my arm, bending it at the elbow and asking me to move my fingers. When he was satisfied that it wasn’t broken, his eyes met mine and before I even knew it was coming, he took my face in his hands and laid on me what might have been the most passionate kiss of my lifetime.

  I was already lightheaded from the wild ride, the fall, and the lack of oxygen, and as his tongue plundered and explored, a whole new level of dizziness swirled inside my brain. Every nerve ending was on high alert already, and the sensations he was causing were heightened by the adrenaline pumping through my veins.

  I lifted my arms to bury my fingers in his hair, but my shoulder protested and I winced in pain.

  He pulled back immediately, looking down at me with eyes dark with desire and lips swollen and wet.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered as he started to pull away. “I shouldn’t have—”

  “Oh, good grief, Dax! Shut up and kiss me!”

  I placed my hands on either side of his face and brought him back to me, taking my turn as the aggressor as I moved my tongue between his lips and dug my fingernails into the back of his head.

  He shifted so that he could put both arms around me, and I moved tighter against him until I could feel his heart pounding with mine.

  I wrapped my good arm around his neck, nestling in even closer and pushing the kiss deeper until his tongue twisted with mine and he tilted his head to take back control.

  He laid me back against the hard earth, and I pulled him with me, parting my legs as his knee wedged between them.

  I tugged at the back of his shirt until I could get my hands underneath to make contact with his skin, which was surprisingly warm despite his lack of a coat. I raked my fingernails up and down his back as his mouth continued to ravage mine.

  He burrowed his hands inside the heavy coat I wore until he had them beneath me, his arms encircling me. He held me tight as he rolled over onto his back, positioning me on top of him as I broke free from his kiss.

  My hair fell forward to shield us as I stared into the deep green velvet of his eyes, my own desire reflected in the heat I saw there.

  I touched my lips to his, more tentatively than before, and he reached to brush my hair back, grazing his knuckles across my cheek.

  The frenzied passion had passed, leaving in its place a gentle exploration that was tender and inquisitive.

  We touched each other’s faces, traced each other’s brows, and took turns sharing the softest of kisses.

  Just as the sense of urgency began to take hold again, Cody lay down beside us, reeking of dirt and the sweetly sour smell of a dog who’s exerted energy and gotten hot.

  It was quite distracting, and I laughed as I sat up, still straddling Dax.

  “I don’t know whether to thank that damned dog or kill him,” Dax whispered, pressing my fingertips to his lips.

  “You can’t kill him. But how did he get out?”

  “Beats me. He’s a freaking Houdini sometimes. I’m positive I latched the stall door, so unless he climbed it, I’m at a loss.”

  “Maybe Mama Dog Debra let him out. Or Kratos.”

  Dax rolled his eyes and grunted. “Yeah. Wouldn’t surprise me if it was Kratos. I swear he’s out to get me.”

  “You? It was me who got injured!”

  Worry creased his forehead, and he reached up to touch my shoulder. “I’m so sorry. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  I nodded and lifted my shoulder in a slow rotation. “It’s probably going to hurt like hell tomorrow, but I’ll be fine. I have an insanely high tolerance for pain. Ballet does that to you.”

  I got up and extended my hand to Dax, who grinned as he took it and stood, bending to knock the dirt off his jeans as I wiped my hands across the back of my own. “Your white shirt is ruined,” I said as I looked at the dark reddish-brown blotches of dirt that covered his b
ack.

  He glanced over his shoulder to look at the shirt and shrugged. “It was worth it.”

  I smiled as I brushed it off as best I could and waited as he did the same for the back of the coat I wore.

  “Here, I’ll take it off,” I said. “I think there’s less areas without dirt than there are with.”

  He helped me shrug out of his coat and held it out to the side, beating his palm against it as puffs of dust rose up around him.

  “This might be a lost cause,” he said, walking over to Dallas and taking the coat that was thrown across the saddle and replacing it with the dirty one. “You can wear this one instead. It may not be as warm, but at least it’s clean.”

  “Where’s Fallon?” I asked as he slid the coat over my arms, taking care not to jostle my shoulder.

  “Probably back at the barn by now,” Dax said, scowling at Cody, who was lying beside us with his head on his front paws, calm as could be.

  “Can Dallas carry both of us?” I asked as I brushed more dirt from my jeans.

  “Yeah. He’ll be fine.”

  He held the stirrup for me, then he gave me a little shove up as I heaved to get my leg over Dallas’s back without the use of my right shoulder and arm.

  Being on Dallas’s back was even higher than on Fallon’s, and after taking such a hard tumble, I was even more uneasy. Fortunately, Dallas stood perfectly still as Dax swung up into the saddle behind me, even as I scooted forward to give him more room.

  His thighs were snug against mine, and his chest was firm against my back, which made me feel secure but oddly aroused at the same time.

  “You can lean back if it’s more comfortable,” he said, reaching around my waist to switch the reins to his other hand.

  I politely refused at first, not wanting to overload Dax, but as the gentle sway of Dallas’s footsteps rocked me back and forth, I gave in and relaxed against the comfort of his solid strength.

  By the time we could see the barn, the sun had dipped just below the trees beyond the lake, and the hazy gray of twilight had descended. We’d ridden in silence the whole way back, and I couldn’t help but wonder if his thoughts were as jumbled and conflicted as mine.