Love Tangle: Riding Bareback

by S. E. Margaux

“And how do I get on?”

  Anita bit her lip, trying not to laugh. As someone who had ridden horses since she was old enough to walk, this felt a bit like trying to explain how to use a spoon. But it was the first time she had seen this confident Adonis look uncertain, and she reveled in his vulnerability. So she kept a straight face, and showed him the technique, swinging herself onto Wildfire. He looked warily at Chestnut, a giant by any standards, and Anita hopped off, gently pushing a crate towards the mammoth animal. Stepping onto the box, and a few (a few more than a few, perhaps, but who was counting?) attempts later, Tristan was astride the velvet beast looking both ecstatic and alarmed. Anita stayed on the ground beside him.

  “Ok, so press your heels — gently! — into his side.”

  Chestnut started forward and Tristan called out in surprise. “Help. Help!”

  Anita laughed. “Don’t worry, you’re doing great. Now pull back on the reins — not too hard!”

  The horse halted in its tracks.

  “And that’s it — start and stop. You’re pretty much a pro already.”

  Tristan smiled nervously as Anita hopped onto Wildfire. She pulled up beside him and gestured to the open field before them. “Shall we?”

  A flicker of fear crossed his piercing blue eyes, but he nodded, gripping the reins tightly. They walked forward together.

  Anita chattered about the riding school and horse speeds. Tristan half listened, worried about the animal beneath him. “Ok, let’s try a trot,” she said. “Squeeze a little harder.”

  Suddenly the horse lurched out, striding forward. “Not that hard!” Anita cried, her own horse cantering after them. “Pull back!”

  In a panic, Tristan jabbed the horse’s rein hard to right. The horse veered sharply, nearly cutting Anita off. “Gently, back straight!” She yelled.

  The horse slowed, and Wildfire pulled up beside him. “Ok, watch out, I’m coming on.” She hopped from her horse onto the back of Chestnut. The horse whinnied a little. She placed her hands over his, unable to see past his broad, muscular shoulders. “Ok, feel my movement,” she muttered. Her legs twisted around his, and he felt her heels move ever so slightly into the horse’s flank.

  Chestnut began to walk forward. Anita moved her left hand a fraction, and the horse turned, gently, to the left. She shifted her heels again. Tristan felt the flex of her thigh muscles against his, and Chestnut moved into a brisk trot. A hand gesture to the right and the horse followed her; another pulse of her thighs, a tightening of her calves, and the horse was cantering through the field. The wind whipped his hair, her long black hair streaming out behind them both.

  “Ready for some speed?” she whispered in Tristan’s ear. She didn’t wait for an answer. Squeezing her heels to Chestnut’s side, and gripping his hands tighter, suddenly the horse was galloping over the pasture. Tristan tried to remember when he had moved this fast. Driving in a car or riding a plane was different, an easy way to forget about the journey, to get from A to B with as little thought as possible. But this... the wind on his cheeks, the air snatching from his lungs… Even on the heavy saddle, he could feel Chestnut’s muscles work with every bound, could feel the horse’s power beneath him. It was unlike any modern form of transport. There was something utterly elemental about riding.

  Anita pulled the reins back gently, and Chestnut slowed. She lingered a moment, her arms wrapped around Tristan’s strong body, and then she swung her leg around and hopped to the ground. “What do you think?” she said breathlessly.

  “That was… exhilarating.”

  “Are you ready to go solo?” Anita asked, gently touching his leg.

  He looked down at her. “I guess I can give it a go.”

  Anita stood back and watched him trot across the field. He was a quick learner. Something about his deeply intelligent blue eyes told her that he’d never struggled to pick up anything new. She watched his figure receding towards the horizon, and rejoiced as he successfully turned and began cantering towards her. Nothing gave her more pleasure than his bronzed face smiling at her as he approached. She called over Wildfire, who dutifully trotted to her side. She was back in the saddle and darting past Tristan and Chestnut in an instant.

  “Hey! Not fair! You’re-” but the rest of his complaint was lost to the wind.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  -

  The sun streamed across the yard as Jo walked from the farmhouse to the guesthouse. Taking a detour past the small paddock between the barn and the stable, she spotted Midnight grazing with Agnes and Fleetwood, the new arrival.

  Jo whistled, and Midnight came trotting to the fence, shaking his black head in greeting. He was closely followed by Fleetwood.

  “Hey boy,” she said, scratching behind Midnight’s ear, “what they do, forget to take you out to pasture? Not you,” she said, pushing Fleetwood’s head away from her pockets. “Who even put you out here? Anita would forget her own head if it wasn’t screwed on. Although I think her forgetfulness might have something to do with a certain someone.”

  Midnight whinnied in agreement.

  “You think so, too? How about you, Fleetwood?”

  Fleetwood nudged her side.

  “I don’t know. He doesn’t seem that bad. I don’t get the fuss, though. He’s not that good-looking, really.”

  Agnes, standing a few yards beyond the fence, snorted loudly.

  “Alright, fine, he’s not that bad. Not my type. I just wish everyone would stop drooling over him. It’s like they’ve never seen a man before.”

  Midnight flicked his ears sympathetically.

  “Exactly. Thanks, boy. I’m checking in with Sally for a bit, but how about a ride later, yeah? You can come too,” she added, gingerly patting the Appaloosa’s nose. He was the newest to the group and had already bitten four kids. But he seemed happier around adults and outside in the open, which Jo could appreciate. Midnight, Jo’s own, was perfectly affectionate, and only rarely nippy.

  She patted both animals goodbye, then turned towards the guest house. She had seen Sally go in not a moment before, and had decided the oil change on the truck could wait. She breathed in the fresh ranch air as she walked through the grassy patches between trampled ground, and smiled inwardly. Even here, she could smell the pine, the fresh needles that would just be coming out, soft and light, and which dappled the trees in the surrounding forests. Songbirds chattered noisily in trees and leaves alike, and somewhere — Jo suspected the garden — the low thrum of a lawnmower could be heard. Probably Raoul, mowing over all the flower beds. Bella would have a fit, but the freshly cut grass smelled like happiness, even all the way out here. It was all she’d ever wanted as a child: wide open fields, the smell of freshly cut grass and the sound of the wind through the trees — and now she had it. Her mind fogged over at the thought of the searing, dried-up landscape she’d left behind three years ago. She had never regretted it, not for a second. She heard from her family regularly enough, had even gone back to visit a year ago, but she didn’t miss it. It wasn’t really a loss at all, she thought, considering the family she’d made here. Her parents had always disapproved of anything she did, and as an only child, she had had no one else to divert their attention to. But here... here she had been accepted, immediately, no questions asked. She had arrived like a lost puppy and had been adopted without hesitation. And now, she thought, stepping into the guest house, she’d defend the place from anyone who broke her friends’ hearts.

  “Sally? Sally, you here?” She asked softly. Sally opened the door to her room. Her eyes were rimmed with red, but she wasn’t crying anymore.

  “Hey,” she said, stepping out. She had changed into her pajamas.

  “You going to bed?”

  “No. Just getting comfortable.”

  Jo could never understand that. Locking herself up in a dark room when she was upset seemed like the worst possible course of action; she always turned to the outdoors when she needed thinking space. Her favorite spot was the roof of the barn, acc
essible through a skylight in the loft. People rarely went up there, although she had once received an unwanted surprise when she’d climbed back down and found Sally and Connor rather busy in the loft. But she loved it. The air was always fresh and just slightly breezy. She knew Anita was the same, she had seen her a few times, heading north towards the lake, or found her, lying on the jetty, staring into the water. Anita always frowned, when deep in thought, as if all her questions might be answered by the waves if she could only figure out the language. One summer her hair had been so long it had reached into the water, sending small ripples radiating outward every time Anita sighed. Bella, too, had a private spot: she sometimes disappeared for an hour or two, though where she went was anyone’s guess. Somewhere around the lake, probably in the woods.

  But Nikki and Sally, they were different. Nikki would shut herself in her room and blast out music, and probably read or write, who knew. And Sally would curl up on the couch, or the bed, or the nearest available soft surface, and stare at the wall, and look so utterly desolate she could have brought rocks to tears.

  “Want some tea?” Jo asked.

  “Yes please.” Sally disappeared in her room, and came back out a second later, trailing her blanket behind her, despite the pleasant warmth in the sunlit living room. She sat down on the couch, knees up to her chin, blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

  “So, what happened, exactly?”

  “I don’t know. He just ended it.” Sally sniffed.

  “Just like that?” Jo asked. “That’s strange.”

  “I know. We were having such a good time, we were having a drink, and then suddenly, out of nowhere, he just ended it. Said it wasn’t working. That I should get on with my life and leave him alone.”

  “Darn.” Jo grabbed a pack of tissues from a drawer and took them to the living room, along with the cup of tea. “What a jackass.”

  “I know,” Sally said, with a nervous laugh. She raised the cup of tea, sniffed again, set the tea down and took a tissue. “I’m so mad. I mean I’m upset. But I’m so mad, you know? I thought we had something, a future, a… a something. Why would he do this?” She wiped her eyes.

  “You know what, you’re better off without him if this is how he treats people who love him. You don’t need that.”

  “But I do,” Sally whispered.

  “Come on, cheer up. The world is full of men. Positively seething. Or, date women, that works too. Especially in small midwestern towns. You’ll never have your heart broken.”

  “That’s cause there’d be nobody there to break it,” Sally said.

  “You’d think,” Jo muttered, but another sniff from Sally pulled her away from half-formed thoughts. “Alright, what can I do to distract you? Want to play a game?”

  “What sort of game?”

  “Any game.”

  “I don’t know. I think I want to take a nap.”

  “Alright, alright. But do it out here. That dark room is depressing, you’re much better off in the sunshine. There’s more tea in the pot in the kitchen, want me to bring it out?”

  “Yes please.”

  Jo obliged, and gave Sally a tight squeeze. She’d always believed company was the best cure for sadness, but she’d heard Sally up and sniffling for the past three nights, and a nap would probably do her well. Any sleep she could get at this point was a blessing.

  “I’ll see you in a couple hours. Don’t eat anything, Nikki said she’s making dinner tonight.”

  “I think I’m just going to nap tonight.”

  “No, you’re coming to dinner tonight,” Jo insisted. “You skip any more meals and you won’t need a horse, you’ll just be floating around.”

  Sally gave a feeble smile.

  “See you in a bit.” Jo stepped outside and closed the door. On second thought, she went back in, pulled open the windows in the living room, and left again. It was all good and well wanting to have your privacy indoors, but anyone who said they didn’t like the smell of freshly cut grass was a liar.

  CHAPTER SIX

  -

  Anita and Tristan were leaning against the pasture gate, deep in conversation, when Bella rode up to them. “Hey! You guys want to go to the lake?”

  “I thought you were taking Sally’s riding class?” Anita asked.

  “I did the morning session, Nikki’s taking over this afternoon,” she said. “There’s only so many times you can say ‘Heels down!’ in a day,” she said to Tristan. He smiled politely. “So, the lake? And lunch? I brought food,” she said, pointing to her saddlebag.

  Anita looked at Tristan. “The lake sounds fun,” he said. “I could do with a swim.”

  “Exactly,” smiled Bella. “Come on!”

  She burst into a gallop, slowing to a canter as she and Artemis cleared the field. Anita watched Tristan struggle into his saddle — though he made it, unaided. She easily pulled herself onto Wildfire’s back. “Ready?” His striking blue eyes smiled, he nodded, and they rode together at a gentle trot behind Bella.

  The fields gave way to forests of ancient pines and stoic oaks, lofty beeches, sweeping sycamores. The midday sunlight was scattered in a kaleidoscope of emerald and jade by the leafy canopy above their heads. The horses wove between the copper trunks, glimmering with wet, juicy sap, their hooves denting the soft, moist earth. In winter it was a frozen, dry dirt, and not the rich eggplant-colored soil that was now abundant with buds and saplings.

  The lake lay to the north of the ranch, in a deep valley surrounded by the mountains and forest. While the north side was a steep descent of rock and forest right to the lake’s edge, a grassy clearing on the south bank allowed easy access to the crystal clear sapphire water. A small gray wooden jetty, built in years past by previous ranchers, jutted whimsically into the lake.

  Bella was already sitting with her feet dangling from the edge of the jetty when Anita and Tristan arrived. Artemis was grazing in the clearing, content with the dense grass.

  “You must have been keen to swim,” Anita remarked as they joined Bella at the end of the pier. Her bare toes grazed the water’s surface, creating dark ripples in the glassy lake.

  Bella tossed her head back, scrunching her eyes against the sun. “It’s such a beautiful day.” Anita slipped off her sandals and sat beside her. Tristan kicked off his trainers, and stood behind them, surveying the view.

  “Do you come here often?” Tristan asked.

  “Every other day,” Bella said, “if I have the time. I think Anita is down here every day, though. She loves a swim when the weather’s hot.” She smiled at Anita playfully. “Sometimes she doesn’t even undress, she’s so desperate to get wet.”

  Tristan crouched behind Anita as she protested. “Is that so?” Before Anita could speak, he’d scooped her up as if she weighed no more than a feather. His chest was as hard as the granite rock of the mountains. “What will you do if I throw you in?” he asked, his brow furrowed very seriously.

  “Drag you in with me!”

  Bella ducked as Anita went flying over her head into the lake. Her head disappeared for a moment, reappearing with her long dark hair slicked back in a glossy black waterfall.

  Bella cackled at the side. “That was — oh, no. No no no!” she exclaimed as Tristan lifted her too.

  “You didn’t think I’d forgotten you, did you?” he asked playfully. Bella was caught off-guard by the piercing blue of his eyes. That moment of hesitation was all he needed — she was flying through the air, landing in the water with a splash the next moment.

  Anita watched her friend resurface, gasping.

  “Your friend is a jackass!”

  They both turned to where Tristan stood laughing on the jetty.

  “Aren’t you going to join us?” Bella asked. She kicked back, floating like a starfish. “The water’s warm.”

  “Well, how can I turn down an offer like that?” He unbuttoned his jeans and shrugged off his shirt. While Bella floated beside her, Anita watched him, her eyes riveted to his glow
ing, tanned body, his chiseled abs and toned arms. His fitted black boxers snugly wrapped around his--

  Anita felt something tug her foot and suddenly she was below the water. Bella’s face smirked at her underwater. From below the surface, she felt the water shudder as Tristan dived in.

  The three of them resurfaced simultaneously. “You said it was warm!” Tristan cried.

  “You threw me in,” Bella pointed out. Tristan splashed her, and she splashed him back. Anita, caught in the crossfire, sent a spray of water in his direction. He playfully leaped on her, wrapping his strong arms around her. Even in the cold water, the heat radiated off him like sunlight.

  Anita didn’t know how long they wrestled for. Their heads came to the surface just often enough for them to breathe, but otherwise, their fingers tangled together like lake reeds, their legs intertwined like the roots of the underwater foliage. He tickled her side and she laughed a stream of silver bubbles before he pushed her to the surface to gasp for the fresh summer air. His hands slid up her calf, her thigh, his head gently butted her stomach before he too surfaced; then she would dip below again, tugging playfully at his arm, wrapping her body around him to use her full weight against him. It was useless, of course, with his gently bulging biceps.

  When they both surfaced, finally, Bella was sitting on the jetty in her underwear, shaking her wet hair out, squeezing water droplets from her t-shirt. “You two want food?” She asked as they swam towards her. She stood up, adjusting her underwear.

  “Yeah. Did you make it?”

  “If I say yes, do I get to eat it all?”

  “You’re hilarious. We’ll eat. I’m starved.”

  “Me too,” said Tristan, climbing out. He offered Anita a hand which she gratefully accepted. Bella was already rummaging through the saddlebag, pulling out ginger beer, lemonade, and cling-wrapped sandwiches.

  “Ham, cheese, or tomato,” she stated, laying them out on the makeshift blanket of Tristan’s shirt. He forewent redressing at that moment in the spirit of the picnic and instead sat basking in the sun, his tanned chest glowing in the iridescent light. He did, however, pull on his jeans — or Anita might have had difficulty concentrating on her sandwich.