Forbidden Spirits

by Patricia Watters

  "I'm going to introduce you to them in a way they will accept," Tyler replied. "Come on."

  Rose entered the pasture and closed the gate, then walked over to where Tyler stood with the mare she recognized as Stardust, one of the lead mares during his rodeo performance, the magnificent dapple gray with the lighter mane and tail. The mare was standing slightly in front of Tyler, but a little off to the side. The rest of the mares stood in an arc behind him, all looking with interest at Rose.

  "Stand directly in front of me and face Stardust," Tyler said.

  Rose looked at him with curiosity, then moved in front of him, and with her back to him, waited. Curving his right arm around her from behind, Tyler made a fist with his hand, and said, "Put your palm over my fist."

  Rose raised her hand, so the bottom of her arm was resting against the top of Tyler's arm, and placed her palm over his balled fist. His hand was large, and her fingers barely covered his knuckles and first joints.

  Lifting their hands together, Tyler said, "Your hand over my fist mimics a horse extending its nose in friendship or greeting. Give Stardust a moment to check you out. She'll smell my hand with yours."

  "She's leery of me," Rose said as the mare eyed her with trepidation. "She doesn't want me in her personal space."

  "You've come between us," Tyler replied. "It's no different with people. Some people we don't want in our personal spaces. Others…" —he paused for a moment— "we do."

  Rose caught the hesitation, and the meaning. She also realized Tyler had moved closer, until his chest was against her back. "Which people am I to her?" she asked.

  "Someone she's confused about," Tyler replied. "She's uncertain if she wants you in her world. It could upset the perfect balance of things."

  Rose sensed that Tyler was talking about himself… and her. She understood. Tyler would definitely upset the balance of her world. Her family would not take to a man who intended to desecrate the spring in the name of scientific curiosity, although when she was last in the cavern, there was little sign of chipping or chiseling in the rock wall, so maybe he was satisfied and would abandon the idea.

  While she was pondering that, Tyler reached down and took her left hand in his and flattened her palm against Stardust's neck, and with his hand coving hers, moved their hands together and began stroking. Stardust bobbed her head like she was okay with the attention. "Doing it this way, she's viewing you as an extension of me," Tyler explained.

  Rose wasn't sure about all of this. It seemed overkill to be introduced to a herd of horses in such a way, but she didn't question it too deeply because she liked what was happening, being enclosed by Tyler's arms and feeling his chest against her back. "How long have you had her?" she asked, mainly because she wanted to remain where she was and find a reason to stay.

  "Since I was twelve," Tyler replied. "She was the third horse in my Roman riding act. Before then it was Gypsy and my old horse, Caesar, but it wasn't much of an act, just something to entertain ranch guests and family."

  "Your grandmother told me about them," Rose said, as their left hands continued stroking the mare's neck while their right hands seemed fixed together in a fist for no reason other than neither of them had broken the contact.

  "When did you see my grandmother?" Tyler asked, bending around her some, until she felt his warm breath on the side of her face.

  "Just before I came here," Rose replied. "She had some interesting things to say about you."

  For a moment Tyler said nothing, and Rose wondered if he was concerned that his grandmother might have told her he was dyslexic. But then he let out a little soft laugh, and said, "Let me guess. She told you I was an introvert."

  "Are you?" Rose asked.

  "No, I'm never alone," Tyler replied. "I always have my mares and we communicate. Life is simpler that way."

  One of the other mares moved around so she was standing beside Stardust, like she wanted to be included. Tyler removed his left hand from Rose's and stroked the mare's muzzle. "Gypsy, baby, you're jealous," he said. "You don't want another lady in my life."

  Rose started to ask if that's what this was all about, Tyler including her in his life. She wasn't sure how she'd react if that was the case. She and Tyler had barely exchanged words, and she'd learned some things about him from his grandmother that she hadn't had a chance to process, yet she felt a strong connection with him, or maybe it was simply that she was infatuated with what he could do with horses. She looked at Gypsy, who was staring at her, and said, "She seems perfectly calm. What makes you think she's jealous?"

  "Her nose is pinched," Tyler replied. "Humans are primarily auditory communicators, but horses are visual ones so body language is important. The way humans use voice inflection and volume to get a point across, horses use degrees of body language—pinning their ears back, a pinched nose, swishing the tail."

  "I still don't understand how you've gotten them to respond to what you want them to do," Rose said. "It's as if they get a mental picture from you. You weren't giving any signs to them when you were working them in the meadow the day I came with Tundra, yet they were doing whatever you wanted."

  Tyler continued stroking Gypsy's muzzle, while saying, "What you saw was an end result. Long before my mares respond to simple aids they've had hours of other commands. When I ride them I use my voice, my hands, my legs, and my whip to give them signals. If that doesn't work, I take up the conventional seat again, and I always have my spurs if everything else fails."

  "I didn't know you ever used spurs," Rose said, feeling Tyler's chest and arm moving against her back and shoulder as he continued stroking the mare.

  "I only use light prods," Tyler replied. "They don't like it and quickly get the message I'm trying to send. If that doesn't work I return to using a bridle if necessary, then gradually, in small stages, I eliminate one aid after another until it's only my voice. When it appears to outsiders that I'm giving no commands, the partnership's complete and my mare knows what's expected of her. The key is giving clear, precise instructions. My mares understand everything. They figure things out on their own. They're intelligent and always one step ahead of me. I also know what's in their hearts. They won't do one thing while I'm watching and another when I'm not. And they have justice in their hearts. If I mistreated any one of them it would just about kill her."

  As he spoke, while stroking the mare, Rose could feel Tyler's breath against the top of her head, sending tiny tingles moving down to her scalp and ripples of awareness through her…

  …hair's an extension of the nervous system, like highly evolved antennae…

  She wondered if Tyler was picking up on other reactions that his nearness caused. It was impossible to disguise her rapid breathing, or the dampness of her palm still curved over his fist, or the slight flutter in her voice when she spoke…

  "Are you okay with this?" Tyler asked, his lips close to her temple.

  Rose realized he was asking more than just was she okay standing in the pasture with him wrapped around her, while petting the horses. Uncertain how to reply, not knowing her own feelings, she said, while stroking Stardust's neck with her left hand, "Yes. Her coat is soft and beautiful." She knew her response was a mixed message, as it was meant to be. "I saw your performance at the Cody Stampede," she added.

  Tyler stopped petting Gypsy's muzzle. "You were there?"

  "No, I was at your parents' house for dinner," Rose said. "I saw the You Tube video there."

  "It was a good performance," Tyler replied. "My mares were all in sync. I couldn't have asked any more of them." He removed his hand from Gypsy's muzzle and placed it on Rose's shoulder, with his thumb on the base of her neck and his fingers resting on her chest, and she responded by tipping her head back until it touched Tyler's chin.

  It was strange to be standing in a field, surrounded by horses, and be encircled by a man who was one of them, yet he was separating himself from them by putting her in between. She got the impression it wasn't something he did
with other women, and she wondered why her? Their first encounter at the spring had not been a good one. She got her point across and so did he. Yet, for the moment, the things dividing them didn't seem to matter.

  For a while they stood silently together, Tyler with his hand on her shoulder, and her with her back against his chest and her head against his chin, and both their hands together with his fist. Then Tyler tightened his hand on her shoulder, leaned near her ear, and said, "Let's go to my place. I think we have things to talk about."

  CHAPTER 7

  While walking side-by-side toward the stable, which Rose learned was actually where Tyler lived, Tyler didn't touch her, which surprised her. From the way he'd acted in the pasture, along with his openness about wanting to talk, which she assumed pertained to talking about them, not horses, she thought he would have placed his hand on the base of her neck, or taken hold of her arm or maybe even tried to hold her hand, because the one thing she had not done in the field was to send him a message to keep his distance.

  On approaching the stable, however, Rose was momentarily distracted when something in her peripheral vision caught her attention. She glanced around and was startled to see a red-tailed hawk landing on top of a round wooden fence post not more than fifteen feet away.

  Catching the focus of her attention, Tyler said, "That's Diana."

  Rose eyed him, curiously. "It's your hawk?"

  Tyler shook his head. "She's been here a few days. Initially, when I was out with the mares, she'd sit on the lower branches of a fir and watch us, like she just wanted to observe, then she started sitting on that post. Maddy was here the other day and named her Diana after the huntress in Roman mythology. The hawk seems okay with it."

  Rose looked at him to see if he were joking, and when she saw that he was serious, she said, "What makes you think she's okay with it?"

  "I asked her," Tyler replied. "After Maddy left, I walked up to stand maybe ten feet from her and called out the name, and she opened her wings for a moment, then folded them back again, so I've been calling her Diana ever since, and she responds to it. When I have meat scraps I call her name and she comes."

  "How do you know it's a female?" Rose asked.

  "Her size. Females are bigger than males," Tyler replied. "She also has yellow eyes, which is characteristic of a young hawk. Later the irises turn reddish brown. I figure she's a passage hawk, which is a young hawk that's left its nest and is on its own but is less than a year old, which is probably why she's been sitting and watching me. She's dislocated and doesn't know what to do."

  "Hawks are significant," Rose said.

  "I know," Tyler replied. "They keep rats and mice out of the stable."

  "That's not what I mean," Rose said. "She could find rats and mice anywhere, but she came here. I think she's an animal messenger guide, which is an animal that comes into your life to deliver a message then leaves when you understand what it is. Her message can be a wake-up call to take action about something, it can be spiritual in nature, or it could be a warning, but you should not ignore her."

  "I don't," Tyler said. "I talk to her and throw her meat scraps."

  "She's not here for your meat scraps," Rose argued. "She has a message for you and she won't leave until you figure it out."

  Tyler looked askance at her, like he wasn't buying into the idea of a bird being there to deliver a message, and said, "I don't mind if she stays. She's company."

  Rose started to expand on the significance of an animal's sudden presence in a person's life then decided that Tyler would give it about as much credibility as spirits in the mountain. But maybe, in time, he'd be open to listening and learning and even developing an interest in his Nez Perce roots and allow them to become a part of his daily life. He was close but didn't know it, but there was a big gaping void that needed to be filled. Why it suddenly seemed important that he tap into his spiritual side, she couldn't explain, other than the hawk's presence had triggered it. The bird was there for a reason.

  As they entered the stable through the double sliding doors at the end, Rose couldn't imagine what Tyler's place would be like. The stable was a newer building, undoubtedly built by a pack of brothers as, she'd learned from Marc and Kit, seemed to be the way things were done on the ranch, but she'd seen nothing from the outside that looked like it contained living quarters, which had her imagination running wild again, from finding a cot inside a stall, to maybe a bed in the tack room, until she realized Tyler probably didn't have a tack room because he rode his horses without saddles and bridles…

  Tyler flipped on a light switch, illuminating a wide passageway lined on both sides with large box stalls with sliding doors, each stall having a window big enough for a horse to poke its head out, and an exterior door that opened directly into the pasture.

  "Come on back," Tyler said. He walked on ahead, like he was leading the way and she was to follow, which Rose found mildly amusing because he was so used to leading mares around that she felt as if she was one of them…

  At the end of the passageway she could see a rectangular splash of light coming through a doorway on the right, like there was a large window in the room that she assumed was Tyler's living quarters. As she approached, she passed a tack room on the left and she noted a lineup of bridles, but only one saddle, which had a blanket tossed over it like it was rarely used. Beyond the tack room was a closed door to what she assumed was the feed room because she detected the aroma of molasses and horse grain, and there were several grain buckets stacked just outside the door. At the end of the stable was hay storage—the portion of the stable that jutted out—which was closed off with a half-barred sliding door to keep the horses out. The passageway was so wide, she imagined Tyler letting the mares out of their stalls so they could all socialize in the evening, Tyler included.

  She followed Tyler into his place and was surprised to see that it actually was living quarters, with a finished wooden floor, pine-paneled walls, and large windows that looked out onto the pasture. Although the place was compact, it housed a couch and a matching recliner, with a side chair to square things off, a small dining table with one chair where a person would eat alone, a kitchenette with an apartment size range and refrigerator, and just enough cabinets and counter space to serve the needs of a single man, and a door that opened into a small bath. Through another doorway was the bedroom. She glanced in to see a desk with a file cabinet beside it, a dresser, and one twin bed—definitely the quarters of a man who lived alone and intended to remain that way.

  She moved to one of the windows in the living room and stood looking out while wondering what was coming next. It was all very strange, Tyler leading her here and her following, yet he'd said nothing about why, exactly, he wanted her there, and she hadn't asked.

  When the silence became awkward, she turned from the window to find him standing across the room looking at her, like he wasn't sure what to do next, and for the first time since she'd met him she felt a little emboldened in his presence, unlike the times before when she was all jelly-knees and fluttery chest. To give him some direction, she said, "You invited me here for a reason?"

  Tyler nodded, and replied, "I'm not very good at this, but I think there's something going on between us."

  "Because of what happened in the pasture?" Rose asked. "We were petting the horse."

  "Let's be open about this," Tyler said. "I invited you into the pasture so you would pet the horse because that was the only way I could get near enough to you to do what I've been wanting to do and haven't done yet, and you stood petting the horse, when you could have walked away, because you wanted something too. I just haven't figured out exactly what that is."

  When Tyler did nothing but stare at her, looking uneasy, it came to Rose that he had limited experience with women, which undoubtedly arose out of his troubled youth while battling his dyslexia. Yet, he was a very handsome man, and his performance at the rodeo with his horses was magical, so there would be women every place he performed who
would want to get something going with him. But maybe, living by himself as he did, and being involved with horses all his life, and even more involved with them before and after performances, there was no time to interact with even one woman.

  "Okay, yes maybe there is something between us," she admitted.

  Tyler smiled, which sent her into female mode again, with all the usual reactions, except that this time there was a chemistry between them that neither of them were denying. Yet, they were standing across the room from each other, like neither knew what to do next, when all Tyler had to do would be to take about two long steps and open his arms and she'd be in them.

  Instead, he looked at her perplexed, and said, "Maybe we'd better cut to the chase. With me, what you see is what you get."

  Rose laughed. "You're right. You're not very good at this, but what you just said is so untrue. You were an entirely different man at the spring the morning I first met you. I didn't like the man you were then."

  "So what happened in between?" Tyler asked, clearly puzzled.

  "I saw you working with your horses," Rose replied. "You're different with them. But with us, because of our cultural differences I don't see how we could ever have any kind of a relationship, if that's where this is leading. You want to violate Whispering Springs, and I believe there are spirits in the mountain that communicate with people as intermediaries. There would be no coming together with us unless you began to understand that everything in the world can't be explained by science, that maybe there are things beyond our senses that even the most sophisticated scientific instruments can't detect."

  "Those are incidentals that can be worked out," Tyler replied.

  "Incidentals?" Rose said, incredulous. "A giant cultural divide is not an incidental."

  "There's a giant cultural divide between horses and humans too," Tyler said. "A couple of my mares were completely unapproachable when I first got them, but we worked together, and before long we started to communicate and everything fell into place. There's no divide now."