by Julie Cannon
Because of her nomadic childhood, Rachel didn’t make friends easily. She had lived in eight different foster homes by the time she was eleven and had attended seven different schools, three in one year alone. She lost count of the foster sisters and brothers she had during the thirteen years she was the property of the state of Montana. She didn’t allow herself to get too close to anyone, anticipating she would soon move to another home and have to try again to fit in. Looking around, Rachel sensed that once again she was the odd girl out. All that aside, Rachel realized that so far she genuinely liked each woman. Well, almost all of them.
Rachel watched Christina cozy up to Shivley. Having made all the moves herself, she knew Christina was on the prowl and had set her sights on their handsome host. Shivley, however, wasn’t giving any indication she was aware of the attack. On the contrary, she spread her attention equally between her guests, ensuring each woman was included in the conversation. Christina was sitting closer to Shivley than was necessary on the big couch and used every opportunity to touch Shivley’s arm or leg in the course of conversation. Rachel was surprisingly relieved that Shivley had not acknowledged the gestures and surmised that Christina was probably getting frustrated.
But Shivley had noticed and with practiced ease didn’t let on. She was not interested in Christina and had to walk a fine line between letting her know and not pissing her off. She was, after all, a paying customer; a young and beautiful one, but a customer nonetheless who could choose to refer other women to the Springdale or just as easily badmouth it to everyone she knew.
Several times Shivley caught Rachel piercing Christina with a look that could probably bring a grown man to his knees. Rachel never made eye contact with Christina, and Shivley wasn’t sure what Christina would do if she did. She’d probably slide her hand farther up my leg and lean into me some more. Not that Shivley would mind a hand on her leg and a pair of soft breasts pressed against her, but not Christina’s. Rachel’s reaction was almost comical until Shivley realized that it felt good to have someone angry about the attentions of another woman.
Rachel was angry more with herself than with what Christina was currently doing to their charming host. When Christina started to make her move, Rachel felt something other than the usual challenge to see who could score first. It was a slow burn deep in her gut that had worked its way to the back of her throat, and there it sat. She fought the urge to wring Christina’s neck if her hand wandered any farther north on Shivley’s leg. She was a smart girl and knew that jealousy was “stuck in her craw,” as one of her foster parents used to say. Why else would she be bothered so much that someone else had her hands on the woman she wanted? The next question that crossed her mind was what was she going to do about it? It would be a long ten days if she got this hung up on Christina’s attraction to Shivley.
Several women yawned, and Shivley suggested that they all turn in. She briefly explained the schedule for the next few days, and tomorrow would come sooner for some than others. The two couples rose first and bade the others good night, with everyone except Rachel and Christina following closely behind. The sound of solid doors closing above echoed in the now quiet room. Neither Rachel nor Christina had moved, and after a few minutes Shivley stood, and before she left the room, she encouraged her remaining two guests to do the same.
Chapter Seven
Six o’clock couldn’t come fast enough for Shivley, so she decided to rush it and get up even though it was only a little after five. She had not slept much, images of Christina, Rachel, and Dale swimming around in the dreams in her head. She was making love to Dale, like she had hundreds of times before, when the faces of the other two women superimposed themselves over Dale’s face. The images disturbed her when she realized that she had continued to make love to the body regardless of whose face was under her. Before Dale had become ill, their sex life had dwindled from passionate to perfunctory. They were to the point that one of them would simply ask if the other wanted to make love and would not be disappointed if the answer was no. Even before Dale died, Shivley could not remember the last time they made love, and now, four years later, only had a vague sense of what it was like. Several times during the night she’d woken up, and when she finally fell back asleep, the dream began again like a movie rewound in her head.
It had been several months since Shivley had dreamed of her partner. After Dale’s death Shivley would see her face every time she closed her eyes. She didn’t sleep for days, and when she collapsed in exhaustion she was tormented, reliving the final days of Dale’s life. She prayed every day for strength and every night for peace. Eventually God answered her prayers and she stopped dreaming of Dale. In fact, she stopped dreaming altogether and even went so far as to no longer be able to recall Dale’s face or her laugh or the smell of her skin. At times she couldn’t remember what she looked like without looking at her picture. She endured the stages of grief and eventually resumed her normal sleep patterns. Dale popped into her dreams every now and then, leaving her with a vague sense of guilt that she attributed to not doing more for Dale in her last days. Shaking off the image of a three-headed lover, Shivley showered, dressed, and quietly walked down the long hall to the stairs.
After breakfast Shivley led the women to the barn, where she introduced each one to the horse she had selected for her. She discussed the peculiarities of each of their mounts and even went so far as to tell a funny story about each one as well. Rachel was the last to receive her horse assignment, a buckskin, the kind ridden by Ben Cartwright. The horse was aptly named Bonanza.
Rachel took the reins from Shivley and almost vaulted into the saddle. She had spent hundreds of hours on the back of a horse. She thrived in the outdoors with the responsibility of caring for a horse. She had even begun to enjoy living with the Stewart family until they too were jerked out from under her and she was sent to live elsewhere. Those three years had been one of the rare times she was happy during her childhood.
Shivley watched Rachel’s expression go from joy to sorrow before a mask of near indifference appeared under the brim of her brown hat. She wondered what her story was. The way Rachel mounted the horse told Shivley that it was not her first, second, or even tenth time in the saddle. Rachel had experience and lots of it, and Shivley was very curious where it came from. She made a mental note to find out.
The women spent the morning getting the feel of their horses before starting work with them the following day. Shivley kept a close eye on each rider, offering helpful tips for the mildly experienced and encouragement for the novices. She was impressed with Rachel’s handling of her buckskin and the assistance she provided to the less experienced riders. She sat tall in the saddle, never once slouching like the others, and rode the stirrups like a pro. Experience had taught Shivley that the other women would be stiff and sore that evening, but she doubted that Rachel would feel much of anything.
Rachel could not remember the last time she felt this exhilarated. It was good to be back in the saddle even if it was a poignant reunion; it felt like it was where she belonged. After only a few minutes, the well-trained buckskin was responding to her commands with only the slightest touch of her leg or movement of the reins. The brawny animal beneath her didn’t frighten her. She felt in control of her life for the first time in a long time.
Shivley had surprisingly left her alone. Rachel had checked the box on the registration form that signified her level of horsemanship as “some,” and she had expected her host to spend time with her, if not out of politeness then out of legal necessity. She was a little pissed at first when she hadn’t, but her anger was quickly forgotten and she maneuvered the strong gelding smoothly around the corral. The wind in her face and the warm sun on her back lulled her into a sense of peacefulness that had eluded her for years. She did not hear Shivley approach her from behind.
“You’ve obviously spent some time on the back of a horse. You’re very good.”
Rachel smiled and glanced to her right. “Th
anks. It’s been a long time, but I guess it’s just like riding a bike, it comes back to you after a while.” She reached down and patted the horse on the neck. “He’s a beauty.”
Shivley kept one eye on Rachel and the other on the riders in the corral. “He is a good boy. I got him when he was about four. At least that’s as best as the vet could tell. I found him starving in an abandoned corral, and after the necessary legalities of trying to find his owner, some rehabilitation, and a lot of love, he’s been here ever since.” Shivley looked lovingly at the healthy horse, remembering how he looked when she first saw him. “I must admit, I didn’t look very hard to find his owner, and the sheriff’s office wasn’t interested in sending him back even if we did.”
“He’s marvelous. How could anybody be so cruel to something so beautiful?”
“Unfortunately, it happens all the time. Horses, dogs, kids. Some people are just pure assholes.” The expression that flashed across Rachel’s face told Shivley she had stepped into something, but she didn’t know what. One moment Rachel was glowing and the next she was slumped in the saddle looking defeated. Shivley didn’t know what she’d said and certainly didn’t know what to say to make it go away.
Rachel loosened the grip on her jaws and took a deep, calming breath. Shivley had meant no harm in her comment and had no idea of her background, and Rachel knew she had to stop reacting this way. Someday. That was what her shrink had been telling her for months. “Yeah,” Rachel replied noncommittally and rode Bonanza to the other side of the coral.
The lunch bell rang, and the women dismounted among moans of pain and talk of never being able to sit again. The Springdale had a large Jacuzzi on the back patio, and it would definitely be full tonight. The women hobbled inside and staggered into the kitchen to eat. All except Rachel. Shivley noticed that she was the last to dismount and spent a few moments gently talking to her horse in low, hushed tones, stroking his neck with affection. Shivley wondered what might be in Rachel’s history that was eased by the love of a horse.
Chapter Eight
Later that afternoon, half of the women were back on their horses with Shivley in the lead, Lucy trotting not far ahead. Debra and Jane paired up behind Shivley, then Christina and Sue, with Rachel bringing up the rear. They covered mile after mile of flat timberland touring the ranch, and Shivley was impressed with their stamina. They stopped beside a small creek running swiftly from runoff melting high in the mountains above. Leather creaked as the women dismounted and led their horses to drink. At Shivley’s request, each woman had packed a canteen before they left the corral and they drank their fill while their horses grazed along the bank of the stream.
“It’s beautiful out here.”
Shivley was double-checking her stirrup and didn’t hear Christina approach. She finished tightening the buckle before she replied. “I’m glad you think so. You should see it in the winter right after a snowfall.”
“Is that an invitation?”
Christina stepped closer and Shivley immediately regretted her words. How could she have forgotten how Christina had made her interest known the night before? “I’m sorry, the ranch isn’t open for guests during the winter. Nothing really much to do but feed the horses and sit around and watch the fire.”
“I bet I could think of lots of things to do, including some in front of the fire.”
Jesus, this girl is persistent. Too bad I’m not interested. “I’m sure you could, Christina, but the ranch is still closed.” Shivley was polite in her refusal of Christina’s advances, but if she didn’t get the hint pretty soon Shivley would have to tell her point-blank, and that was something she really didn’t want to have to do. She glanced at her watch as a means of escape. “Better get ready. It’s time to head back.”
Shivley walked her horse back to where the women were resting. She looked at Rachel and immediately thought, Now that’s someone that I could spend the winter in front of the fire with. It was apparent that Rachel had been watching her exchange with Christina, and Shivley thought she caught a hint of jealousy in her eyes but didn’t know Rachel well enough to be certain. She maintained eye contact and asked, “Everything okay?”
“Fine by me. How about with you?” Rachel noticed that Shivley picked up on the inflection in her voice that was meant to tell Shivley she knew what was up with her and Christina. Anger had bubbled its way to the surface when she watched Christina approach Shivley like a tiger stalking her prey. Rachel was too far away to hear what they’d said, but Shivley appeared to be aware she was the quarry. Rachel didn’t like it.
“Fine by me as well. Having a good time so far?” Shivley answered, sidestepping the entire issue.
Shaking her head in understanding, Rachel replied, “Yes, I am. It’s beautiful out here.”
“I’m glad you like it. You should see it in the winter right after a snowfall.” So far their conversation mirrored the one Shivley had escaped from with Christina. She knew Rachel was attracted to her, and she waited to see if Rachel would come back with some sort of pick-up line.
Rachel took the high road. “I imagine it’s breathtaking. I’ll bet it’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop.”
Shivley detected a longing in Rachel’s voice that she had not heard in the short time she had been on the ranch. She glanced at Rachel and noticed that she was looking at the stand of pines as if she could see the snowy image in her mind. Rachel was not simply being polite or humoring her like Dale had. She gave every indication that she would love it here. Shivley felt a stirring to share it with her.
“Everywhere you look, everything is covered in snow. It’s like an Ansel Adams photograph. When the wind blows, it pushes the snow into drifts, and it’s so soft you can take a step and end up in snow up to your waist. You fill your lungs with air so crisp and clear you think it’s the first day God made the earth.” Shivley gazed over her land in awe that it was actually hers and she had the opportunity to love it each and every day. She hadn’t realized it until she had spent some time on the ranch, but life had been passing her by every day. She was going through the motions of living, including her relationship with Dale, and like most people, she didn’t even know it. She had vowed that she would never find herself in that position again.
Rachel watched Shivley’s face transform as she talked about the land and the sky. It had been a long time since she had seen anyone so honestly enthralled with anything having to do with nature. The tingling of what she could only describe as renewal filled her chest, and she closed her eyes and took several deep, cleansing breaths. The pure air seeped into Rachel’s bloodstream, making her light-headed. She spent most of her time on the campaign trail in big cities, and this was more oxygen than she had been used to breathing in years.
Rachel had never felt for any place what she felt now after only a day on the ranch. Most of the families she lived with were decent people, but she never felt as if she belonged. More times than she could count, she had to defend herself from the unwanted attention of the teenage boys and occasional father in the houses where she was placed. School was never a haven to escape her home life, the kids often ridiculing her as soon as they found out she had no family. She had learned to have eyes in the back of her head and sleep with one eye open. When other children were safe in the arms of their parents and loved unconditionally, Rachel was shuffled from house to house. When other children brought in baby pictures for a school project, Rachel had none. Rachel never went to a mother-daughter tea or danced on top of her father’s shoes at the father-daughter dance. She had never been invited to a slumber party or the prom. She was forty-three years old and had not shed a tear since she was six.
As a result, Rachel had matured into what she thought was an extremely self-reliant woman. She was proud of the fact that she was financially independent and didn’t need to be a part of a group like other women she knew. She didn’t have a best friend, but a series of casual acquaintances she could call at a moment’s notice and go to dinner or a movie if
she felt like it, which she rarely did. After spending days and nights with politicians and their handlers, Rachel preferred to be alone when she came home, or so she told herself. She seldom felt any personal connection with anything, any place, or anyone.
But being here on the ranch was very different. Rachel felt a gaping hole in her chest that she didn’t know existed until she arrived. It wasn’t just the luxuries in her apartment, the leather seats in her BMW, or her BlackBerry that were missing. What was missing was everything. Everything that made life worth getting up for every day. Everything that happened that made her imprint on the world something significant; that what she left behind mattered, really mattered. All of the little things that made life complete. And that something was someone to share it with. The realization was profound. She reached out and grabbed a low-hanging branch on a nearby tree to steady herself.
“Are you okay, Rachel?” Shivley asked, noticing Rachel sway into the tree beside her.
Rachel lifted her head, suddenly very tired. She looked out over the clear meadow. “Right now, at this very moment, I’m seeing things that I’ve never seen before.” Her voice shook.
The shift in Rachel’s voice told Shivley that she was talking about something more than the view in front of her. Many guests to the Springdale came to get away or clear their head and often left rejuvenated or with a totally different perspective. She wondered which it was for Rachel. “I hope you like what you see.”
Shivley’s voice was soft, and Rachel turned her head and met warm eyes looking at her. Shivley held her gaze and Rachel could swear they were communicating on a totally different level. Shivley was offering her space to find whatever it was she needed, no questions asked. Very few people in Rachel’s life had given her anything without wanting something in return. Yes, Rachel was expected to pull her weight on the ranch, but this was different, very different. Rachel wanted to work, wanted to give. It suddenly felt as if she needed to make a payment on her soul or she would dry up and blow away. But most importantly, she wanted to do it here, at the Springdale Ranch.
