Unbridled

by Fox Brison

  “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that, there’s plenty to do around here, work and leisure,” Dani chuckled wryly, “and infinitely more work at the moment. You could go a coupla months only seeing each other for breakfast and supper.”

  “I’m only here for another few weeks, so we should be safe.” I smiled but tried not to think about leaving this glorious land.

  Or the woman who called it home.

  Chapter 27

  Haley

  We rode on in silence; words could never do justice to the beauty that surrounded us, and although Dani’s voice was soft and soothing, a drawl that echoed tenderly through every nerve, there was no need to speak when we were content just to be.

  We started out riding on close cropped grassy areas close to the main ranch which led to rougher terrain and pastures as far as the eye could see. And the eye could see for miles, although the slight heat haze hid the full impact of the mountains in the distance, the wavering effect concealing a landscape carved in the past and dominating the present. Dani called it right because the day was proving to be hot, but a light north westerly wind kept it bearable, and the clement weather certainly added to the majesty.

  “So, do you think this would be a good starter trek for our guests?” Dani asked.

  “Absolutely. The terrain is flat and stunning, nothing too difficult and there’s plenty to keep the interest of even the most jaded of city slickers.”

  My answer seemed to please her. “I’ve ridden the trails on this ranch for twenty five years and one of the hardest things, when we started to make the modifications for visitors, was deciding which ones to use. It’s good to hear someone else’s perspective.” The conversation ended as abruptly as it had started and we both lost ourselves in the view once more.

  Or rather, I was lost in my thoughts.

  Riding had always meant freedom for me. As soon as I mounted one of these magnificent creatures it was like I was transported into a parallel universe, one where lost loves could kiss my backside and perceived disasters were lessons learned. Every emotion would slip from my shoulders the minute I threw my right leg over the saddle and clicked the horse into a walk. And then a trot. And ultimately a gallop, the wind blowing away each and every grey cobweb binding my mind.

  Riding was as inherently tied up in my psyche as being a twin was, but with the advantage of relieving my stress rather than adding to it.

  “You’re handling Scrubby like an expert there, Haley. Where do you ride back home? Are your folks farmers?” Dani asked, almost subconsciously, as she drank from her canteen of water.

  “God no,” I laughed imagining my Mum as a farmer’s wife. That made me laugh even harder because everything she knew about farms came from watching one of her soaps, Emmerdale, or Emmerdale Farm as it was, every night. “I grew up riding on The South Downs. It’s a national park not far from where I live in Brighton, on the south coast of England.”

  “Like Yellowstone?” Dani picked up one of Jolie’s hind legs and checked his hoof. Clearly it was an action she performed regularly, because Jolie waited patiently whilst it was inspected. “Stones,” she said, explaining her actions, and I instinctively began checking Scrubby’s as we talked.

  “Yes, except tinier and with no super volcano.” I lifted the last of Scrubby’s legs and then smiled. “All clear. The South Downs are about sixteen hundred square kilometres of rolling hills and patchwork quilt fields… sparse chalk grasslands… meadows and woodlands…It isn’t as dramatic as Yellowstone but it is beautiful. Maybe I’ll get to take you riding there one day,” I said without thinking.

  “I’d like that,” she replied easily. The slow trek away from the Lazy Creek buildings relaxed Dani and she was more open. “So not farmers then. How long have you been riding?”

  “Oh God, now you’re asking. It’s coming up for what, twenty five, twenty six years. Mum and Dad took Jen and I to visit a stables and petting farm for our sixth birthday. I spent the whole day with the horses and fell in love with them there and then. Every year I wrote to Santa asking him for a horse, and, unsurprisingly, he never quite managed to fit one on his sleigh, but he did bring me a Barbie doll dressed in riding gear and a plastic pony, a beautiful grey with mottled dark spots on its neck. I named her Misty and she was my first patient.”

  “Did you have to perform many operations?” Dani asked smiling at my enthusiasm.

  “Countless,” I replied with a matching grin. “I read every book I could find about horses and riding from the local library, both fiction and non-fiction.”

  “Let me guess, Black Beauty?”

  “Definitely. It was and still is, one of my favourite books. I think it was certainly one influence on my decision to work with horses.”

  “Mom read it to me when I was younger. That’s why I bought Jezzie because she reminded me of the horse in that book.”

  “She certainly has the colouring. I owned aspirations of becoming a jockey but my height soon put paid to that dream. Anyway, from that moment I begged my parents for lessons, but it wasn’t cheap so I went once a month to begin with. At twelve years old I asked Theresa, who owned the local stables, to take me on as a volunteer hand. I’d muck out, clean equipment, and, my favourite task, feed the horses. In return I was given one free lesson a week. When I got older Tess offered me a part-time job but nothing really changed. I spent my wages on riding lesson only I could afford two a week instead of the solitary one. It was honestly the best time of my life.” I grinned.

  “Wow that’s some love of horses right there,” Dani said, impressed by my dedication.

  “How about you, did you grow up here on the ranch?

  “Sure did.” She mounted Jolie and I mimicked her action. This time, instead of riding away from each other, we neared. The conversation flowed easily, the stress of the past few days diminishing with every mile travelled. “Mom married my Dad straight out of school. He wasn’t a good man and he eventually gambled away the ranch his folks had left him up near Billings in Montana. We were long gone by that point.” Dani removed her hat and wiped her brow it was a nervous habit I’d noticed. “It wasn’t a happy marriage. When I was born Pa seemingly went nuts. I don’t really favour him, nor Mom. Turns out there’s some Comanche ancestry in the family and I’m what some people might call a throwback, but Pa basically thought Mom had been cheatin’ on him. He wanted a paternity test and even when that proved he was my father he still couldn’t take to me. Called me squaw. I thought it was affectionate when I was younger, but then I learned better.” She smiled but it was clear those early experiences affected her greatly, there was a quiver in her voice and a tremble in her hand.

  “But you’re beautiful,” I said softly. “Both inside and out.” How did her father fail to take to her? It truly was unfathomable.

  “He never said it in front of Mom, not at first anyway. Then when he did, well there was so much shouting I thought that’s how folks talked to each other all the time. The last straw was when he lost a pony my Grandpa gave to me in a bet. I was devastated when I watched Star being driven away. I didn’t understand and couldn’t stop crying. When my Pa eventually came home smelling like a distillery Momma couldn’t take it no more, she went after him with a shotgun. I think she was tempted to pull the trigger and scared herself half to death! That night she packed us up into her truck and drove down here. Grandma had died a few months before and Grandpa appreciated the company I guess.” She chuckled. “Grandpa was a proud man, never took much help from anyone, excepting when it came to cooking.”

  “Oh, Dani,” I put my hand on her leg. “I’m so sorry. Is your Dad still part of your life?”

  “Nope. He died a few years back from liver failure. He was a gambler and a drunk. In the end he lost his ranch, his dignity, his friends and us, his family. I paid for him to be buried in his family plot in Billings much to Mom and Grandpa’s consternation, but I thought it was the right thing to do”

  “It can be hard to do the rig
ht thing sometimes.”

  “Yes.” She narrowed her eyes as she looked at something in the sky. “Can you see ‘em?”

  “What?” I looked skywards where a couple of birds were competing in an aerial ballet.

  “Red tailed hawks. If we’re lucky we might see an eagle closer to the mountains. You can sometimes spot them in a gully nearby called Devil’s Ditch.”

  “That would be amazing.” I realised Dani had changed the subject because talking about her father was plainly still difficult even after all this time. I thought I might try and lighten the mood. “Devil’s Ditch ha, that’s funny because I learnt to ride in an area called Devil’s Dyke.”

  “What’s so funny about that? Lots of places are named after Satan.”

  “I guess it’s more ironic than funny, because a few years later I ended up living with the devil dyke.” I snickered and Dani did likewise.

  “The wind pitches a fit through Devil’s Ditch. Moans like a bitch in heat.” Dani said with a grin and a wink.

  I smiled, “That also works.” And I winked right on back. Finding inadvertent puns about Dawn was my new favourite game. The stream we’d followed for the past few miles led to a slow moving and shallow creek and we shadowed its lazy meandering path towards the mountains in the distance.

  “This crick leads down to Mudpie Pond,” Dani swivelled in her saddle and pointed back towards the ranch.

  “Mudpie Pond?”

  “Yup. That’s where Jack and I spent most of our time when we were little and where I built my cabin.”

  “And let me guess, you made mudpies?”

  “Nope. We fished there.”

  “Then why Mudpie Pond?”

  “I have no idea,” she furrowed her brow and pursed her lips. “It’s always been called that. I’ll ask Mom when we get back. She might know.” Dani looked up at the sky again. “Another couple a hours should see us at the campsite.”

  “Sounds good.”

  The rhythmical clip clop and thud thud echoed through my whole body. I’d forgotten how good it was to ride in the wide open spaces of the countryside, although this was a far different countryside than what I was used to. The scenery changed dramatically from plains to rock formations and valleys, and Dani began giving me a running commentary. Extremely knowledgeable about the history of the area, she told me stories, real and mythical, of the native tribes and how the fur trade, European settlers and the Louisiana purchase transformed the western great plains. I didn’t feel overloaded with information because Dani fed me just enough to make the land come alive.

  She was an excellent guide.

  “I’m impressed, you have a real gift,” I praised. “I didn’t realise what a rich history this area has and its importance in America’s development. Did you learn all that in school?”

  “Some, but mostly I like to read,” she said with a blush, brushing off my compliment. “The winter can get pretty desolate round here and I love losing myself in the past. Non-fiction books mostly.” She smiled, softly. “We’re merely wardens; people come and go but this place remains eternally beautiful. It’s up to us to preserve it for future generations.”

  Just when I thought I couldn’t possibly like this human being any more she opens her mouth and something like that comes out of it.

  Dear God, I was in so much trouble.

  ***

  The landscape was harsh in many respects, yet lush in others; it was my cowgirl personified. You know how some people say owners look like their pets? Well Dani didn’t exactly look like the land, but she had its essence. Hard earth was carpeted by tough grass and rocks, yet it possessed a gentle curvature which cocooned you, suspending you in time and space; we could easily have been settlers in the 1800s. The mountains, browns and beiges with a hint of grey, grew in colour and size and the craggy outcrops towered aggressively over the trees that nervously skirted their base.

  The solitude was a mix of breath taking space and crushing beauty.

  The soundtrack to this magical ride increased in volume the closer we came to the mountains. Rippling water over rock filled beds, the shrieking warning call of a bird of prey chasing us from its sacred hunting ground and the wind gusting through the trees in the distance seized me in its haunting embrace.

  Dusk was gently approaching when we reached the designated camp, a clearing next to a stretch of the creek that was slow moving and low. The flat white stones that bordered the curving stream, washed down from the mountains decades before, were worn and smooth through the perpetual action of the water sanding them. I could have made it from one side to the other troubling only the soles of my new boots. I moaned in pleasure. That was the best money I’d ever spent. It was as if they were made from a mould taken from my very own feet.

  “There hasn’t been much in the way of rain for the last few months,” Dani explained when I asked about the water levels. She had a little ridge between her eyes where she was frowning.

  “Is that a problem?” I asked

  “It will be if it continues. We nearly went under a few years back after suffering three straight years of drought. We had to sell the calves earlier at a time when the bottom fell out of the cattle market. We couldn’t grow the hay so had to buy in feed. The ranch was running at a huge loss, luckily Gramps had a little put aside that got us through the worst of it.”

  “In England the farmers are having the opposite problem, we’ve had terrible flooding. And when the land gets water logged it can take the earth years to recover the leached nutrients to make it useable for growing again.”

  “It’s a hard life, working the land. It’s completely dependent upon the weather, you know? Grandpa was dead set against using the ranch as entertainment, said that was for rich city folk not real ranch men, but after the drought, and facing the real possibility of bankruptcy, he began to relent. We’ve used every cent we have building the guest accommodation and making the trails safe, setting up campsites like these and investing in a herd of good quality trail horses. It’s a shame Pops won’t get to see it come to fruition,” she paused and pursed her lips, “then again maybe he didn’t want to.” Dani looked troubled.

  “Why would you think that?” I asked gently.

  “I kinda railroaded him into the whole dude ranch thing and he died so suddenly I sometimes wonder if my pressuring him may have had something to do with it.”

  “Dani, you can’t think like that. Change is simply hard for some people to accept. I’m sure your Grandfather knew what you were doing was in the best interest for the ranch. Perhaps he could see it was going to be in good hands and he felt it safe to leave it to you and Jack.”

  I think I might have helped because her frown lifted a little, although the tiniest of creases still remained above her nose. “Truth be told I’m kinda with Gramps on this. I’d rather not have to play host to vacationing city folk, but breeding horses and keeping cattle involves an awful lot of risk and influences outside your control; things can go down the Swanny very quickly if you’re not careful or are simply unlucky. The dude ranch will ensure we keep our head above water. There’s a lot of work and not much money in what we do, Haley, but the reward is being able to wake up to this every day.” Dani swept her arm around. “All my life I’ve worked this land at times till my fingers bled. I wouldn’t know what I’d do if I ever lost it.”

  Chapter 28

  Haley

  It didn’t take long to set out the tents and get the fire started. Dani and I made a good team, I think anyway, both of us instinctively working together and doing what was needed without fuss. Dani collected wood from a stock pile which had been readied for her future guests to use, and I boiled the water for a vegetable soup.

  “You can be camp cook anytime,” Dani finished mopping up the last of her meal with a hunk of bread Nora had sent us off with.

  I curtsied and then poured her another coffee. This felt good. It felt right. “And thank you, Dani. I can’t begin to tell you how much I needed this. Riding is
like therapy for me. Whenever I have something playing on my mind or need to work things through, a good ride often provides me with clarity.” Although an entirely different kind of ride with you would’ve given me the clarity I needed. “It’s a hell of a lot cheaper than therapy.”

  “Ahh, so that’s why you were so keen to come camping,” she looked at me askew. “Was I that bad?”

  “No, you were that good,” I said it jokingly, but you know what they say about many a true word spoken in jest? Well it gave me a glimmer of hope.

  Dani fussed with her hat; there it was again, her tell. Was there a chance we could be something other than purely friends? I threw another small branch onto the fire. The evening sky was darkening and I searched above for the first star of the night. When I found it I smiled and made a wish.

  “The last time I saddled up was straight after I found my ex in bed with someone else,” I said quietly.

  “She must have been crazier than a jackrabbit chasing a coyote,” Dani blurted out, angrily.

  “I’ll have to remember that saying,” but Dani’s intense reaction reinforced the nebulous sense of possibilities. “I needed to clear my head, get rid of the cobwebs. Plus, I had to kill a few hours until my best friend Olivia finished work. She has the best cure in the world for the blues.”

  “Go on,” Dani encouraged with a grin.

  “Rapier wit and her erstwhile companion, white wine from a box.”

  Dani threw her head back and guffawed. “Wine from a box! I’ll have to meet this friend of yours, she sounds like a hoot.” I chuckled, only slightly, but there you go. Memories do that to a person. They can drag you into a pit of melancholy, or wrap you in tendrils of grief. But they can also lift the spirits and warm the heart.