“But could you drive his car and take me back to town? I’ve called everyone I know and can’t get a hold of anyone who can pick me up.”
“Can’t you call your parents?”
She snorted. “Could you call your parents if you needed a ride?”
“Oh…why don’t you just take his car?”
“It’s a stick. I can’t drive a stick. Can you?”
“Yeah, but I’ve only driven in the fields. I’ve never driven on the highway.”
“But you could drive me.” She smiled and leaned toward him again. He could smell smoke on her breath, but also a musky scent emanating from her skin; a nice scent.
“I don’t know.” He felt bad she was stuck here, but it really wasn’t his problem.
“Please,” she said in a low, husky voice.
River shoved the column of saltines back into the box, rose from the table, and tossed the box on the counter. He put the catsup back in the refrigerator and then leaned back against the door, giving himself time to think.
“What’s your name, gay cousin?” she asked in a lighter tone.
“River. What’s yours?”
“I’m Laila.”
“Like the girl in the song?”
“No.” She scowled and he realized she must hear that all the time. “I spell it different. Are you River like the one in the song?”
“What song?”
“I don’t know. There must be hundreds of songs about a river.”
He laughed. “Maybe, but only one Laila that I know of.”
“Well, what about it?”
“What?”
“Can you drive me back to town?”
He frowned, thinking. Strange, but he kind of liked this girl and wanted to help her; but he wasn’t sure if he dared. He had driven his father’s truck many times around the fields and back roads, but never in any kind of traffic. He was a little afraid but he didn’t want to admit that to her. “I have to take a shower before I do anything,” he said.
Laila came around to stand directly in front of him, inches away. “Sure; want me to help, gay cousin?” She glanced down at her chest which drew his eyes helplessly to follow where she led. Then she placed her hands on his shoulders and brought her body against his.
River pushed his palms flat against the refrigerator, and met her eyes. His face flushed again with heat as he felt himself responding to her closeness.
“Hmm, I don’t think you’re gay at all, cousin.” She kept her eyes open, gazing into his, and then kissed him softly on his lips.
River could not turn away from her eyes, ensnared by their intensity and the feel of her mouth on his. He felt confused and embarrassed. Who is she? What would Steve do if he walked in right now?
“Are you?” she whispered, pressing tighter against him and moving her hips.
“No,” he whispered back and he brought his arms up to place around her. When she moved her face in, this time he started the kiss. Her lips parted; they were pliant and warm, and he liked the smoky and salty taste of her. He dared to touch her with his tongue and it was almost a shock when her tongue met his. It sent a surge of electricity from his mouth down his spine and resulted in a throbbing hardness.
The noise of a car driving into the yard shattered the silence. The engine cut and car doors opened and slammed amid loud voices and laughter. Many footsteps crossed the yard and pounded up the front steps of the house.
Laila gave a little squeal and the kiss ended. River dropped his arms. Laila smiled and touched the tip of his nose with her black nail-polished index finger.
“You’re nice, gay boy,” she whispered, and then skipped off to greet the new arrivals.
River heard the front door open and her voice greeting the others as they stepped inside. He shivered with cold, his clothes still damp, and especially with the sudden loss of her body’s warmth against him. Disconsolately, he left the kitchen and went back out to the barn. Storm stood up from where she had laid down next to her food dish, wagging her tail. The thumping of loud bass vibrated through the air as someone in the house turned the stereo back on.
River climbed up an open wooden staircase to the barn’s loft where he had constructed a room out of plywood panels and scrap lumber. He didn’t like it in the house any more than Storm, and he had long ago created this space for himself. He had furnished his room with a mattress on the floor made up with old sheets, a sleeping bag for a blanket, and one pillow. He had two large plastic tubs for his clothes; a wide board on two cement blocks for a shelf; an electric heater, a boom box, and an old lamp on a block of wood next to his mattress. A heavy duty orange extension cord threaded up through a crack in the floor provided power from an outlet below.
River pulled off his damp clothes, put on a pair of baggy dark gray sweatpants and a thermal shirt, and threw himself face down on his bed. Storm jumped up to lay down beside him and he absently stroked her fur, finding comfort in her warm presence and the softness of her coat beneath his fingers.
He had really liked that kiss…and the feel of the girl in his arms!
Loneliness seeped into him, and Sierra’s face appeared behind his closed eyes. Her image triggered a knot in his stomach and emptiness worse than that from hunger. Storm emitted a soft whine and nudged against his neck with her cold wet nose, tickling him.
River laughed and sat up, allowing Storm to scrabble part way onto his lap. “What have I done?” he asked, looking into her sympathetic eyes. Storm gazed back at him, and River imagined it a reproachful look. “Okay, I’m the stupid one,” he admitted. “She’s the sweetest person in the world and she doesn’t deserve someone like me making her sad.”
Storm licked his hand, as if agreeing with him.
He laughed again and reached for his jeans, dragging them close enough to fumble in the pocket for his cell phone. He scrolled through the photos for a picture of Sierra; one he had taken the day she had shown him how to use the camera. He had caught her by surprise and she gazed back from the phone’s screen, her large brown eyes opened wide and a hint of a smile on her lips. The camera had caught the flush of her cheeks and the freckles across her nose that he had always thought so cute. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. He flicked her image away and instead looked at the one of the black horse and turned his thoughts to the pitiful condition of the neglected animal. He wondered again about the history of this horse and where he came from. The one bright spot of his day had been when the horse had finally relaxed enough to eat in his presence without bringing his head up between bites. It was going to take a long time, but River felt sure he could win the black’s confidence.
He shut off the phone and set it aside. Then resolutely he rolled off his mattress to grab his school backpack and bring it to his lap.
Schoolwork had always been hard for him. Many times João had offered to help him and River had stubbornly refused. It resulted in a contentious rift in their friendship every school year since João pushed and pushed, not letting the subject rest until River avoided visiting him. Ironically, now with João gone, the shame of his past behavior motivated him to at least try to do homework, for his friend’s sake. Why had he always refused help? João had called him a coward, and perhaps it was true. Perhaps he had been afraid that even with help, he would still fail. And failure would prove what a teacher had once said to him, “River, some people are only meant to shovel manure.” He did not want proof of his stupidity.
He pulled out his history book to start reading the assigned chapter. He knew he would have failed the last exam without the answers Allison had given him. But now he probably had passed, so maybe he should try to keep up in this class. Leaning back on his pillow, he started to read.
But the light was poor and it strained his eyes. The growling of his empty stomach distracted his ability to focus. He closed his eyes to rest them and almost immediately fell asleep.
*****
7 Problems, Promises, and a Prom
A true horseman does not look at
the horse with his eyes, he looks at his horse with his heart. – Author Unknown
*****
Throughout the afternoon, as Sierra and River moved around each other in avoidance, the lump of hurt that began as an icy point of pain in the middle of Sierra’s chest, melted into a smoldering pit of resentment and anger. I’ve done nothing wrong. She determined she had quite enough of his foul moods and rudeness. She had even apologized when he should have been the one to apologize to her. Well, two could play at the avoidance game and she was not going to chase after him and beg him to forgive her so they could be friends again. She was more than happy to restore their friendship, but he was the one who was going to have to patch things up…if he ever wanted to.
Instead of helping with the evening chores, Sierra left the stable as soon as she finished cleaning her tack. She passed by Fiel’s stall one last time to give him a carrot and hug him around the neck, always finding comfort in his solid, warm presence.
Tonight, Allison and her mother were picking Sierra up to go shopping, and as she pedaled home, she switched her thoughts to Luke; wondering what he would think of her in a dress.
*****
“Sierra, I am so sorry,” Allison moaned after Sierra related to her River’s reaction to their meeting. They sat at a table in the food pavilion at the mall, eating wraps from the Mediterranean booth. “I really didn’t think when I gave him the answers, but I guess it was cheating.”
“Of course it was cheating,” Allison’s mother said. “Just what were you thinking?”
“Like I said, I didn’t think,” Allison admitted. “I just wanted to help him pass his test. I thought it might encourage him. I can see now how dumb that was.”
Allison’s mother emitted a short laugh and said, “We are all smarter looking backwards.”
“What should I do?” Allison asked.
“What do you think you should do?” her mother countered, raising her eyebrows.
“I guess I can start by apologizing and letting him know Sierra had nothing to do with my stupid blunder.”
“Yes,” her mother agreed. “What do you think, Sierra?”
“That might help,” Sierra said. “I never know with River.”
“I will apologize at the first opportunity,” Allison stated definitively.
“Girls, we better start shopping,” Allison’s mother stated as she looked at her watch, and then began to gather the trash.
It took two and a half hours and trying on at least thirty dresses before Allison surrendered to Sierra’s declarations that she was not a ‘frilly, formal dress kind of girl’.
“Sophisticatedly simple and elegant,” Allison described the dress they finally agreed on, which Sierra thought was a fancy way of saying plain. But Sierra did like the dress and it was the only one she really felt comfortable in; a navy blue knit with a scooped neckline, capped sleeves, and knee-length flared skirt. It pulled on over the head without a zipper or other fastenings, so retained very sleek and simple lines.
They found a pair of navy blue pumps with a short heel that Sierra was willing to wear. She had never in her life worn anything but sneakers and riding boots.
“Now for accessories,” Allison said as they took a break at a juice stand where they ordered fruit smoothies. “Sierra, why don’t we get your ears pierced while we’re here?”
“No way,” Sierra stated emphatically. “Allison, I am not a jewelry kind of girl either. It’s going to be a big enough change for me just to wear a dress!”
Allison pleaded, but Sierra stubbornly would not give in. “Okay then,” Allison said with a sigh of resignation. “I guess no accessories will be your signature style. Is Luke going to get you a corsage?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’m sure he will. Mums are traditional for homecoming and Peter showed me the order form so I could pick one to go with my dress. They’re all in our school colors; blue and gold, and will go very nice with your dress,” she relented, and then added more graciously, “flowers will suit you.”
*****
Throughout the week they kept a look out for River so that Allison could apologize, but they never saw him at school. At the stable, Sierra purposefully stayed out of his way.
Saturday, when they had finished cleaning stalls in poignant silence and were sweeping the aisles, River suddenly spoke up, “I’ll give you a lesson today.”
Startled, Sierra looked up from her broom. “What did you say?”
“Do you want a lesson today?” He answered without looking at her, still sweeping.
“I thought you hated me.”
“No, I don’t. I promised you lessons. I keep my promises.”
Sierra stopped sweeping to study him. He refused to look at her but at least he admitted he didn’t hate her. Is this his way of apologizing? It didn’t feel like an apology and she didn’t feel like making it easy for him. “Oh, well that’s very nice,” she said in a sarcastic tone.
He glanced at her with a dark frown on his face.
“You are so very honest. You don’t cheat. You keep your promises. But what about lying, River? Do you tell lies?”
He stopped his sweeping to look at her again, his frown deepening into suspicion.
“Do you?” Sierra persisted.
“No,” he retorted and returned to sweeping.
“Good. Tell me about how you fell off the horse.”
He froze. Sierra heard Storm emit a brief whine, sensitive to his mood. “That’s none of your business,” he said so low she almost didn’t hear.
Sierra went back to sweeping, her anger churning in her stomach along with her bitter feelings over his rudeness. They finished the aisles, moving in opposite directions from each other, but met again at the equipment bay to hang up the brooms.
“Okay, I didn’t fall off,” River snapped out.
“I knew that,” Sierra said, speaking calmly. She stood with arms folded, facing him.
“What difference does it make? I don’t even remember how I fell.” He turned from hanging up his broom to glare at her.
“Liar.”
“Why do you even care?”
“Because I do; because we were friends.” She met his glaring eyes and kept her own expression soft and her voice low.
“Friends don’t talk about each other to other people,” he retorted back.
“Wrong; that’s exactly what friends do. They talk about people who matter to them.” She forced herself to keep her voice soft and neutral, although she wanted to yell at him.
She watched him struggle to find a response. Finally he managed, “Do you want a lesson or not?”
Sierra’s pride wanted to refuse. But she had been having difficulties riding Fiel in dressage movements. She couldn’t seem to keep him on a straight arc when trotting circles to the left and their transitions from canter to trot were not as smooth and fluid as they used to be. She had not had instruction since her last lesson with João. When she had him to constantly tell her what to do with her hands, her seat, her legs, from moment to moment; then riding Fiel was easy. Things had deteriorated since then. Until she was old enough to drive so she could haul Fiel in the trailer to some other instructor, she was limited to either River or Tess to teach her, and she would never take lessons from Tess again. She swallowed her pride. “Yes,” she answered. “I’ll go get him ready.” She added, “Thanks.”
“No problem,” he responded in a tight voice. “I’m doing it for Fiel’s sake.”
That really stung! Sierra froze in her tracks and almost changed her mind. Is my riding that bad? Does he think I’m ruining my horse? Instead, she flung back over her shoulder, “Right, for Fiel,” and hurried away. She would take the lessons; for Fiel and also for João. She didn’t want his wonderful horse ruined by her inexperience. But at that moment, River’s unkind remark ended their friendship. He deserved all his problems.
The lesson actually went very well. River, like João, could see exactly what Sierra needed to do to k
eep Fiel in correct, energetic movements. The improved responses from Fiel confirmed for her how much she needed River’s coaching.
“That’s good,” River complimented their last figure eight and transition from trot to walk. “Cool him out now. We can do this next Saturday if you want.”
“Fine,” Sierra agreed. “Thanks,” she said to his retreating back, not hiding the sarcasm in her voice. Tess didn’t like me either when I took lessons from her, Sierra reminded herself. I suppose I can take the same from River. At least he doesn’t yell at me the way Tess used to.
Still, an aching sense of loss wafted up from a vague empty space deep inside; a mourning for the way things used to be. Instead of working and riding together, she and River avoided each other. When she went out on the trail, he worked a horse in the arena, and when she rode in the arena, he went out on the trail. She no longer stuck around to help with the evening chores.
“You okay?” Manuel asked Sierra one afternoon as she retrieved her bicycle.
“I’m fine, thanks, Manuel,” she smiled at him.
“You and Reever?”
Sierra just shook her head and for some reason with Manuel asking, she had to fight back tears.
“Reever, ‘ee sometime need a knock in ‘ees ‘ead,” Manuel said, shaking his own head.
Sierra laughed, feeling a little comforted by his sympathy.
*****
Homecoming week! The atmosphere at school radiated excitement as pep rallies, skits performed during lunch, a costume day, and voting for the homecoming king and queen and their royal court, all led up to the football game on Friday night and the homecoming prom on Saturday night. Sierra’s mood vacillated between eager anticipation of her date with Luke, and stomach-wrenching dread that he would not like her dress, she would not be able to think of anything to say, and he would be bored and disappointed with her.
“Are you going to watch our JV game Friday afternoon?” Luke asked, stopping by the girls’ lunch table early in the week.
The Boy Who Loves Horses (Pegasus Equestrian Center Series) Page 6
