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The kiss shook me to my boots, literally. I haven’t felt that passion for years. Who was I kidding, Vance never kissed me like that. It was more about my status and his money. Between the two, we could get into any resort or country club. But with Pete, that was just... Wow! With lots of exclamation points.
I had to get my head on straight if I was going to make it through the rest of the afternoon. I mentally shook myself and turned towards Belle’s stall. Even though it’s been years since I’ve ridden, being with the horses was like coming home. I slipped the leather halter over her head and brushed her coat until it was glistening, stroking her was relaxation in itself. I threw the saddle blanket over her broad back. I bent over, grabbing the saddle horn and the back of the seat. It was heavier than the English jumping saddle I was used to. I tried to pick it up, but my muscles strained to lift it more than just a few inches off of the dirt floor. I tried again but ended up dropping it before making it to the stall. I heard a chuckle from behind me. I spun around, and Pete leaned against the wall holding the reins to a giant grey horse.
“If you hold Gaston,” he handed me the reins, “I can tack up Belle for you.” He walked over and lifted the saddle with one hand and threw it over her back like it was a feather. He brought her out of a stall and handed the reins to me.
“Do you need help getting on?” He raised one eyebrow at me.
“No,” I tossed the reins over her neck. “I have ridden much taller horses than this little Quarter Horse.”
He raised an eyebrow at me, the corner of his mouth twitched. “Alright, you’ve got it.”
I stretched my foot to the stirrup, grabbed the saddle horn, and sunk a little bit for an extra push off to jump on to the horse. In that briefest of moments, I heard what every girl dreaded to hear when they try to get on a horse with too-tight pants. A loud earth-shattering rip sounded. All of a sudden, the warm Texas breeze hit my backside. I quickly swung my leg over the back of the saddle and settled into it. My face flushed scarlet, and it was not from the sun. I chanced a glance at Pete, who was sitting on his horse behind me. He had his face averted, but his shoulders shook. I pulled my sunglasses down and straightened my spine.
“Lead the way, cowboy,” I called to him as Belle pulled at the bit, ready to go.
“Yes, ma’am.” He tipped his cowboy hat at me and nudged Gaston over to the gate.
He opened the gate with practiced ease and ushered me through. Pete led the way past the cattle pens, around the feed bunks, and opened the last gate to a wide-open pasture. After we made it through, he grinned at me, his hat shaded his eyes, making them unreadable. He nudged Gaston into a fast lope. I whooped and urged Belle to give chase. She stretched out her lithe body, her long strides eating up the ground as she gained on Pete. He glanced over his shoulder and saw us right on his tail. He urged Gaston faster. I leaned forward and whispered in Belle’s ears.
“Let’s catch them, girl!”
I rose out of my stirrups as she lengthened her strides to eat up more ground. Clumps of cactus and mesquite trees flew by. Jackrabbits scurried out of our way. Belle’s nose came even with Gaston’s hip. Then, Pete’s leg, then Gaston’s shoulder, and finally she pulled ahead. I whooped again as we pulled away leaving Pete in the dust.
The last thing I saw before a cloud of dust enveloped Melanie and Belle was a flash of red underwear. I pulled Gaston down to a slow lope. Belle was the faster horse. Gaston had a bit of draft in him, it made him the perfect ranch horse, but he was made for power, not speed. I wiped the sweat from my forehead as Gaston slowed to a jog. Up ahead, Melanie had circled Belle around. I lifted my hat off of my head and waved her down. We waited as she loped Belle back to me. She sure looked good on a horse.
“What’s up, cowboy?” She tossed her hair like an unruly filly. “Couldn’t keep up.”
“No, ma’am,” I drawled. “I just wanted to see you ride away.” A blush crept up her neck. “We’re going this way.”
I turned Gaston toward a little snake trail that wove through the brush as Belle hurried after us. We rode back and forth up the butte, past the cacti, mesquite trees, and blooming clumps of flowers. Jackrabbits jumped out and deer skittered away. Finally, we made it to the top. Melanie’s face was streaked with sweat and dirt. She lifted her sunglasses, and her eyes were outlined like raccoon eyes. I stifled a laugh, but she must have heard and gave me an ice melting glare.
“This better be worth it.” She muttered as she wiped at the grime on her face.
“I’ll let you judge for yourself.” I nudged Gaston over to the western edge.
She pulled up Belle next to me and a gasp escaped her lips. The sun cast long shadows across the ground as it moved toward the horizon, filling the sky with vibrant oranges and reds that gradually faded to pinks and purples. A river snaked through the floor of the valley turning a soft pink color. She relaxed against the back of the saddle, taking in nature’s show. Gaston sidestepped closer until I could reach her hand. I palmed her hand in mine and rubbed my thumb across her knuckles. She smiled at me, appearing completely relaxed.
“You are so beautiful.” I was completely transfixed by her.
She turned and lifted her sunglasses and smiled over at me. The sun was adding highlights to her hair. We sat in silence until the sun had sunk below the horizon.
“It was a lot of work to get up here, but it’s worth it.” I straightened in my saddle.
“It was.” She sighed.
“We probably should head back before it is totally black.” I turned Gaston towards a different, easier trail than the one we came up on.
It was dark by the time we got back to the barn. Melanie slid off of Belle and leaned against the pipe fence.
“Hey, honey, why don’t you sit in the truck and I will take care of the horses. It will only be a few minutes.” I kissed her forehead as she staggered to the truck and climbed in. Her red panties made an appearance with every step. I chuckled and led the horses into the barn, as the stars blinked in the night sky.
I was bone-tired. I hadn’t ridden that much in years and forgot how physical it was. I climbed into Pete’s truck and rested my forehead against the cool glass. My eyes closed only for a minute and the next thing I knew, strong arms wrapped around my knees and behind my shoulders. A feeling of weightlessness overtook me.
“Shh, honey. I’ve got you.” Pete’s masculine voice purred. The weight of my eyelids was too much for me to fight as I slipped back into the dream world.
An owl hooted outside the window causing me to become wide awake. I glanced around the room, confusion slowing my thoughts. This was not Delilah’s. The room was dark and held a masculine scent. I pushed the dark covers off. Definitely not Delilah’s, everything at her house was a shade of purple. My feet sunk into the thick carpet as I left the room. I crept down a hallway past what looked like the living room as soft snores came from the couch in the center of the room. Pete’s body was draped in what looked like an uncomfortable position. His knees hung over the armrest and his head rested on his arm. His face was soft in sleep with the lines around his eyes and on his forehead smoothed out. His shaggy hair fell forward onto his forehead. He wore a faded T-shirt, advertising some bull event. It stretched across his shoulders, showing off bunches of lean muscle.
I stumbled around Pete’s house in the dark, opening doors until I found the bathroom next to the living room. It appeared to be a small three-bedroom house with very little furniture and even fewer decorations. The only photograph in the whole place sat on top of the mantle of the fireplace in the living room. It was of a woman with jet black hair holding a baby on the edge of a pier. Whatever was said off-camera must have been funny, because she had thrown back her head to laugh at it. A layer of dust covered the mantle, except the picture was wiped clean. I picked it up and peered at it. What was the significance of this woman? Who was she to Pete?
I wandered into the kitchen to look for a glass of water. There was one plate in the cupboard and three cups that did not match. I opened the fridge to see if there was any water in there. It contained only a half-gallon of milk and a grapefruit. I filled my glass at the sink. I took a sip and spit it out. Yuck! It tasted like sulfur. I gave up and went back to the bedroom for the rest of the night.
I awoke to the morning news broadcast as it leaked into the bedroom. Pete had covered me with a quilt sometime in the middle of the night. I stretched out and winced at the pain radiating from my shoulders. Pete appeared around the doorframe.
"I heard you moving.” He said awkwardly. He held out a jar of green goop. “You got burned pretty bad yesterday. This will help.” In his other hand, he passed me a large glass of ice-cold water, which I gulped like someone just rescued from the desert even if it had a funny taste. I gingerly spread the salve over my shoulders and down my arms. It was tingly at first until it numbed the pain. I sighed in relief. Pete appeared again, this time with an arm full of clothes.
“These might be a little big on you, but better than the ones you are wearing. The bathroom is down that way.” He hooked his thumb toward the first door down the hall before disappearing back into the kitchen.
“Thank you,” I called before heading to get showered and changed. A grunt was the only response I got. I shrugged and headed down the hall.
After the shower, the smell of bacon pulled me to the kitchen. Pete was at the stove flipping piece after piece. I padded behind him and wrapped my badly burned arms around him. I rested my head in the center of his back and inhaled his clean scent. His back muscles tightened at my touch. He inhaled and held his breath.
“Thank you for the wonderful time yesterday.” I murmured. “Thanks for taking care of me.” He turned around, ignoring the bacon to wrap his arms around me and squeeze tightly.
“My pleasure.” We stayed like that until the smoke detector went off from the bacon forgotten on the stove. The smell of burnt bacon and fat filled the cloud of smoke that rose from the stove behind us.
Pete muttered a curse as he slid the burnt dish off the burner and into the sink full of soapy water. “I guess I can go get us something to eat unless you want to come with me?”
“I’d love to.” I grabbed my sandals to follow him to his truck. Questions about the picture weighed on my mind. Who was she? Why did he keep a picture of her? I had to know. I steeled myself to ask him the next chance we were alone.